by Hazel Parker
“Okay?”
She nodded.
“You ever rode a motorcycle before?”
“I used to.”
“So you know that your bike doesn’t do anything you don’t do. Right?”
“Yeah.”
“If you turn left, it turns left. If you stop, it stops. If you lean, it leans. Right?”
“Right.”
“If you lose control, the bike loses control. My bike doesn’t do anything I don’t want it to do, Molly. Do I seem like a man out of control?”
“No.”
“Do you trust me?”
She stared at me for what seemed like years. I stood there for as long as she needed, trying to show I was trustworthy. For once, I wanted someone to see me, the real me, under all the bullshit, addiction, bad attitude, and behavior. I wanted someone to see me. I was trustworthy and I wanted someone – Molly – to believe in me.
Finally, she nodded and I pulled her tightly into my arms.
“Trust me, Molly. Just trust me. I won’t hurt you. I’m not going to let anything hurt you. You can trust me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now, let’s get to that date.”
I slung my body over the bike and started it as she clung tightly around me. I pulled out of the parking lot slowly, careful of the skittish passenger. She held me like a second skin as I drove under the speed limit to the grocery store.
“We’re here, babe.”
Her face was nestled into my back and looked up only when I spoke.
“You all right?”
She nodded and took my hand to step off the bike. I could feel her hands shaking in my own.
“If you want to sit here for a minute, you can. I’m just going to go inside real quick and get some food.” She looked at me a bit dazed and shook her head. “You want to stay here?”
“No. I’ll come inside.”
She followed me inside, holding my hand, and together we grabbed some sandwiches and chips. I grabbed a blanket and a backpack too. We were checked out in less than fifteen minutes. She almost relaxed and forgot about her fear. She took the backpack full of food and as soon as we walked back outside, she froze up.
I could see the fear glistening in her eyes in the light of the street lamps.
“Remember what I said, Molly. Trust me,” I said, adjusting the backpack on her back. “Now, let’s go. I promise this is going to be fun.”
“Okay,” she said, swinging her leg over the bike a little more confidently.
I drove consciously. I didn’t speed or take any turns as wild as I might normally have if I was on my own. I made the ride on autopilot, driving through the foliage and onto a beaten path. I helped her unclick her helmet. Her hair was a sexy mess from my helmet and her cheeks were flushed from the wind. Anchored on my body, she swung off the bike and came face to face with the view. The reason why I came up there.
“Wow,” she said.
From up there, there was nothing but the stars above us and over the cliff, and lying out before us were all the lights of the city. They were sprinkled below us quite like the stars above us.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I think so too,” I said as I helped her off the bike.
We unpacked our haul and soon our picnic was set up. We lay down and for a moment, I could only hold her. I pulled her bun down, happy to play in her hair as we lay side by side.
“How long have you been afraid of riding?”
“Since I crashed.”
“Is that how you got those scars on your back?”
She nodded and looked into the distance.
“Was it as bad as you thought it would be? Riding with me?”
“No,” she said, cuddling closer to me.
“Do you think you’ll ever ride by yourself?”
“I don’t know,” she said, sighing heavily. “I hope so.”
I didn’t push the subject and pulled the food out. We ate the sandwiches in silence. I could tell something was on her mind. I waited, knowing it would emerge eventually.
“How did you get addicted to meth?”
If she was anybody else, I would have responded differently. I would have said anything in the world, but the truth was she wasn’t anybody else. This was Molly, and I wanted her to know me – the real me. Plus, I knew she would not judge me.
“I ran into it at a party. Happened accidently. I wasn’t at a good place. My dad had just died and I didn’t have anyone. Well, I had my brother and my mom, but I just felt….”
Silence fell open in front of me and she finished the word I wasn’t sure I could say.
“Alone.”
“Yeah.”
She understood me. She understood exactly what I wanted to say even when I couldn’t explain.
“So when they offered it to me, I took it. I didn’t think it was anything dangerous. You know? Everybody does it where I am from so I didn’t think too hard about it.”
I stopped talking, thinking about the moment when it all changed for me. I tried it once and I was addicted.
“It only took one sniff and I was hooked. It was like a religious experience. At first, I was kind of scared, I was so young and I didn’t know my body could feel all that. It took me so high. I felt empowered, like nothing could get me and for once, everything just felt slow and easy.”
“And it got out of hand?”
“Exactly. I lost control. I didn’t know for a while though. You know, motorcycle clubs, we party. We get wild and it’s nothing for drugs to be around. So I had a lot of enablers and no one wanted to call me out for it, but then the truth couldn’t be denied. I lost myself and finally, when the crew couldn’t take any more of it, they sent me to rehab.”
“What was that like?”
“Hell on Earth. At first. Then it became the best thing that happened to me. It wasn’t easy, but I like me better now.”
“I like you better too,” she said rolling over and smiling up at me.
“You know what else I’m glad about?”
“What?”
“Going to that NA meeting. I hadn’t been in a long time and my sponsor, Luke, suggested I go again. I didn’t think I’d like it. Well, I didn’t like it, but finding you was worth it.”
“I’m starting to feel like it was more than a coincidence. You know? Like what are the chances that I’d see you at the club and then days later see you at the meeting?”
“Right,” I said, laughing. “I thought I was going crazy when you told me about my bike and then drove away.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t remember your name,” I said, chuckling.
She slapped my arm. “You ass.”
“Hey! That’s all you were at the time.”
“And now?” she said, rolling over and pinning me to the ground.
“You’re more than that.”
I saw my happiness reflected in her eyes.
“You want to get out of here?”
“You read my mind,” she said, smirking before leaning down to take my lips.
Chapter 8
Molly
We rode to his apartment and for the first time, I wasn’t worried about what the bike was doing. My mind was focused on holding this man that I couldn’t figure out. Something was happening between us and it was as scary as it was exciting. I really liked this guy. He got me. I didn’t have to hide my past addictions. I didn’t have to hide who I really was – my fears, my work, my addiction, even my scars. Everything was perfect, except for one thing: my past. I needed to tell him about that one thing. I couldn’t imagine he would find out without me saying anything, but keeping secrets was never good in a relationship. He was a biker, and not just any biker: he was a Bandit. On paper, there was no one worse for me, but in my heart, he felt so right.
He parked the bike and helped me off. He seemed a little nervous as we walked up the stairs.
“Excuse any mess you see.”
“Okay.”
&nb
sp; “No, seriously. I can’t remember if I cleaned up or not and I never bring anyone back here.”
“So… I’m the first woman you’ve ever brought here?” I asked, feeling proud.
“Yeah,” he said, looking shy.
With the door unlocked, he pulled me inside and held me close. “Home sweet home,” he whispered, and his voice tickled my ear.
“I like your home.”
“Want to see my favorite part of it?”
“Would that be your bed?” I asked, tingling from his hot voice on my skin.
He chuckled darkly and full of unspoken pleasures that he planned to yield on me. “What do you think?”
He pushed forward, making me walk towards where I presumed his bedroom was. He smacked my behind and pushed me until I was bent over the bed.
“Are you going to frisk me?”
“I’m going to do something,” he growled, grabbing the side of my jeans and dragging them down my legs. He took my panties with the pants and kissed the center of both my cheeks. His mouth trailed down the backs of my legs, kissing, licking and nibbling my skin. I could feel him hovering over my sex, tempting me. My pants held my legs hostage, preventing me from opening them wider. He grabbed my ankles and massaged, slowly running his hands up my calves, my thighs, my hips, my back, and to my shoulders before kissing me and sliding back down.
I was panting so loud.
“Please, Ethan.”
“Please what?” he said as his hand slowly petted my mound. He thrust one finger in, causing me to whimper, and then two fingers into my aching center. My hips bucked in rhythm with his hand.
“I need,” I said, groaning and losing my words as he stuck his face into my ass.
“This?” he said, stuffing his tongue into my slit.
My back arched and I scrunched the sheets in my hands automatically, reveling in the sweet relief. “Yes!” I gasped as he gave my nipple a hard tweak between his thumb and forefinger. He chuckled at my response.
His tongue was relentless, tonguing both entrances while he ran both hands up my body. I could hear myself crying with lust and pushing back against him, wanting him to be even deeper.
“Please. Please. Please,” I chanted like a prayer.
“Climb on the bed,” he ordered, stepping on my pants so they came off, successfully forcing my tennis shoes and socks off too.
I could hear his belt buckle jingling and, trusting he was undressing, I yanked my t-shirt off.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said. It was something about how he said it that made me look back.
“You like what you see?”
His eyes held me captive and I knew that whatever he was going to say was going to touch me.
“I love it.”
I didn’t know what to say, and while I was sitting there on all fours, naked and ready for him, he wasn’t waiting for me to respond. “Turn around and get ready for me.”
I turned back around and arched my back, readying my body for his onslaught. My legs spread, showing him his prize, and I couldn’t help rotating and swinging my hips. The bed dipped as he crawled behind me, and in a quick gesture I grabbed all my hair and pulled it over my left shoulder. I could feel him at my entrance, dragging his thick head through my wetness. I looked back to see him watching the connection of our bodies. The way my soft folds engulfed him. He was shaking, just barely keeping himself from losing it. My slickness pulled him in without any resistance.
“Take me,” I whispered, turning around to support myself against the headboard.
I felt him freeze behind me. I looked back, thinking he was waiting to make plunging into me even sweeter, but the face I saw was not a man in lust. The man I saw looked both shocked and hurt.
“Ethan? Baby, what’s wrong?”
He pulled back, climbed out of bed to stand. His rigid cock standing and begging for attention, but his face was the complete opposite. “What the fuck is that behind your ear?” he asked, his tone full of accusation and guilt.
“What’s what?” I said, standing to look into the mirror on his dresser drawer.
I stood to the side, pulled my ear back and looked out of my peripheral view to see what was causing him to be so upset. A tattoo. Something I’d gotten so long ago I’d forgotten it was on my body. Wearing my hair long to hide it had become a life habit. It was small and basic. A black outline of a skull right behind my ear. It was a gesture of loyalty. A group of us got tattoos at one time, one drunken night in an effort to prove we were down for the cause and ready to be active in the MC. I was the royal family and my membership was guaranteed, but I wanted to prove I wasn’t getting special treatment. I didn’t have to get any tattoos. The skulls were in my blood, but at fifteen, I wanted to prove I was just like my friends and went with them to get it done.
“Did you hear me, Molly? I asked you a fucking question.”
He stood there naked, and in every way vulnerable, staring at me and begging for an answer. I wanted to freeze the frame. In fact, if I could have, I would have reversed and frozen time to an hour before. The next few moments were imminent doom and I wished for just a moment that I could avoid it. Somehow reverse or fast forward. I didn’t want to say a thing. I didn’t want to see the change in his eyes, but I could see that he had already changed. He was no longer looking at me like he had when we were just a couple looking down at the city lights
“Say something!”
“It’s a tattoo.”
His eyes squinted together as if trying to figure out if I was joking or not. Obviously it was a tattoo, but he wanted to hear me say it. He wanted me to confirm it was as damning and incriminating as he thought it was.
“Of what?” he said, his words so harsh I flinched.
“A skull.” My words came out as barely a whisper.
“Is this a game to you? Is that all this is to you?” His voice was so loud and strong. It was so convicting. He rendered me guilty with his tone.
“No.” I had to say something but nothing was coming.
“Then what the fuck is that behind your ear?”
“I—”
“You’re a Skull! You’ve known this entire time who I was! You had to have known. I was wearing my cut in the club! Did Casper put you up to this?”
“No. I—”
“What was the point of this? Were you just waiting to shank me in my sleep? Were you trying to infiltrate my club?”
“No! It’s just—”
“Don’t say another word. Don’t say another fucking word. You’ve probably been lying this entire time.”
He paced around the room, snatching his clothing up from the floor and yanking them on.
“Ethan, please.”
“You’re just a liar. This is BULLSHIT Molly. Has anything real come out of your mouth?”
I pulled on my clothes in a rush, not bothering to see if they were inside out or the right direction.
“Oh, my god. You almost fucking had me. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been.” He picked his vest up from where he left it hanging on the back of his chair, the emblem weighing heavily in his hands. Looking at it, I could feel my tattoo burning like a scarlet.
“You had me. You almost fucking had me,” he said, talking more to himself than me. “I can’t believe I almost fell for it,” he said shaking his head. “Get out.”
I didn’t want to push him or try to get him to hear me out. I could see he couldn’t take anything more. Fully dressed, I walked to the door and because I’m a glutton for punishment, I turned back to get one last look at him.
He was beautiful. Jeans holding tightly to his behind. His bare chest. Body tight. Muscles flinching, like he was stopping himself from moving. Thick veins bulged from his neck. Jaw clenched.
Rage emanated from him. I could practically see it coming off him in waves. He wasn’t looking at me and I stood at the door, wavering and waiting for something.
He looked up and I saw in his eyes. Those cobalt-blue eyes were stormy and sad a
nd I knew that was what I was waiting for, to see the inevitable destruction I’d caused, and I knew it was time to go.
“I almost fell for you,” I heard him whisper just before I pulled the door shut. His voice sounded more pained than anything.
Chapter 9
Ethan
I don’t know how long I sat on my bed, half naked and confused, but I sat there a long time. Nothing was what I thought it was. My world was upside down. Molly was a Skull. She was a part of the fucking Skulls. The worst gang masquerading as a motorcycle club. They were the worst of the bunch in Reidsville.
The Bandits and The Skulls had a long-standing history. Though we had no major conflicts although we occupied the same areas, it was clear we were not buddies. We had almost been at each other’s throats for years, but in the past six months, it had gotten worse. The Skulls dealt guns, both illegally and legally. The legal ones were small-time arms, but rumors were they were pushing into deeper waters trying to supply heavier and unregistered weight. Now, word on the street was they could supply anything ranging from Glocks to grenade launchers and everything in between – which was bad business for us. They were growing fast and beginning to press on us. A storm was brewing and like an animal, we could feel the tension in the air.
While the Skulls focused on destruction, the Bandits focused on pleasure. We owned a string of bars and started opening strip clubs around the region. Amongst the pleasure of flesh, we pleasured the craving of men and their toys. The garage was the most profitable of our businesses. I held no biases against bikes and fixed crotch rockets or Harleys and anything big or small in between. We did everything from oil changes to custom builds. The garage kept the legal side of our operations afloat while the bar and strip club provided drugs and pussy dealings that weren’t always clean. If you were looking for something a little harder than spirits or a lap dance, The Bandits could provide it.
In all reality, we should have been able to get along since we weren’t direct competition. But no, several small beefs along the way led us to the classic standoff. We didn’t like each other on principle and it seemed like no matter what, we couldn’t lay the beef to rest. Now that most certainly could be forgotten. I still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t some kind of trick to hurt me or elaborate scheme to find out club secrets. I put their president in the hospital and trashed his bike. That was not something easily forgotten or forgiven. If anything, I probably added 100 years of hatred to our bill. Skulls and Bandits weren’t going to be friendly anytime soon.
