Dirty Biker (An MC Motorcycle Romance) (The Maxwell Family)

by Alycia Taylor

  When I walked in, Bull and his crew were sitting around drinking…that was new, not. He looked up at me inquisitively like he wondered what I would be doing there without Terrance…a lamb in the lion pit…

  “Hi, Bull,” I said, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. “Did anyone turn in a little black purse? I lost it the other night after we were here and I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart, check with Cookie. He has a big old lost and found box back there.”

  Cookie was the cook, both for the bar and the club. Dax said he had been around as long as he could remember. He did some bartending too, but mostly Bull left that to some of the girls who hung around, he said that gave them a way to earn their keep. Cookie was a tiny Mexican man with a handlebar mustache and a quick smile. He didn’t fit in there, he was too nice. He didn’t speak much English so Bull’s guys often made him the butt of their jokes too.

  “Yeah, but if it matched any of his shoes he’s probably already taken it home,” one of the guys was saying and they all laughed. I laughed too, but mine was a nervous one.

  I started around the counter toward the kitchen to see if I could find the box full of lost treasures. I could only imagine the stuff that place must have raked in. Just as I had about made it around the corner I heard a familiar voice that stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “I got the hog all shined up.”

  Well, the voice and the fact that the rest of the room went dead silent. I guessed the guys were interested to find out how Dax was taking the news that I was dating his former best friend. This place was great like that, no one had any business that was strictly their own.

  “Good, now get a beer,” Bull said.

  Dax acted like he didn’t notice anything was going on. He reached behind the bar and grabbed a beer out of the ice trough they kept there. I willed myself to keep walking and just go out the back, but part of me also wanted to just get this over with. Dax and I were likely to be seeing a lot of each other. It had to get easier and maybe if I explained things to him and even gave him a chance to explain things to me…

  “Hi, Dax,” I said softly. It seemed that my voice was as hesitant as I was. Either that or I was hoping he wouldn’t hear me and he had walked away. It would give me an out and I could still say I tried.

  He heard me though. He looked up at me and took a swig from the bottle in his hand. He seemed to be swigging a lot of beer lately. That was new, for him. I looked at the clock and I saw the corners of his lips twitch. He knew what I was thinking.

  “Hey, Olivia,” he said finally, like he had just noticed me.

  He turned around and began to walk away. I guess that was it. I heard myself call after him and wondered if I was a glutton for punishment.

  “Dax!” My stupid voice cracked.

  He turned slowly toward me and I found myself wishing that he wasn’t so fine to look at. His green eyes and full lips and this new and improved body were almost too much for my heart to take.

  “Yeah?” he said nonchalantly.

  “Can we talk for a minute?” I asked him.

  He couldn’t control his facial expression any longer. It was suddenly obvious that he had no desire to talk to me whatsoever. I felt a pang in my chest, although I knew I deserved it. Everyone was still looking at us and I wondered if he would just keep walking to save face with the guys.

  “Just for a minute?” I asked him, trying not to sound like I was begging in front of our audience.

  “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed. We went over to one of the booths and as we sat he said, “You want a beer?”

  I rolled my eyes before I caught myself. It wasn’t even eleven a.m.

  “Um, no thanks,” I told him.

  Dax was only nineteen when he went to prison, but his dad would have had no problem letting him drink all he wanted then. He usually chose not to, unless it was a party or a special occasion. It was just one more thing that had changed.

  “So what do you want to talk about?” he asked.

  God, he was so good-looking I could melt under his gaze.

  Pulling up all of my courage I said, “Don’t you think we should talk about the past couple of years and what’s going on now? I mean, it seems like we’re going to be bumping into each other a lot and that’s going to get awkward.”

  He laughed. It was a sarcastic laugh. “More awkward than watching my ex-girlfriend and my ex-best friend walk into the bar as a couple the very day I get released from prison?”

  I sighed. “I’m sorry about that,” I said.

  I could feel the heat coloring my face. I wanted to tell him he had no right to be angry. I was his ex-girlfriend, but I knew Terrance was right when he said there was an unwritten rule amongst friends.

  “I imagine it sucks pretty badly to see your ex with your best friend. I wish we would have written to you or something and warned you.”

  “My ex-best friend,” he said, emphasizing the ex. “He was what I called a best friend a few years back. I was gone for over two years. I didn’t see him. I didn’t get a letter or a care package once. What kind of best friend is that?” He laughed again, but there was no humor in it and he said, “I guess the kind that snatches up your ex-girlfriend as soon as she dumps you, huh? I’ll bet he was waiting outside the courthouse for them to load me on the bus and then he was too busy playing house with you to come and visit me.”

  “Dax, listen. I understand that you’re angry and you have a right to be. But I was your ex for good reason. I was angry too and hurt. You never let on to me that you had anything to do with drugs. You let me believe you and I had a future together.”

  “And me getting arrested messed up that plan for you. You couldn’t wait two years and stand by your man?”

  “I didn’t want to, Dax. I don’t want to be part of that kind of life.”

  This time when he laughed he really seemed amused. “First of all, I told you that I had no idea those drugs were there. You chose not to believe me. I’m the injured party here, Liv, not you. My mother was the only one who believed me and stood by me. And then there is the fact that you protest the lifestyle so strongly yet look around you, Olivia. I’ve been out for two days and I’ve seen you here twice already. You’re dating the vice president of the Smokin’ Jokers’ son. What do you think your boyfriend is going to be when he grows up?”

  “Terrance doesn’t do anything illegal. He just runs parts back and forth, things like that.”

  “What about the rest of these guys?” He lowered his voice as he said it, but no one was paying attention to us any longer anyways. When I didn’t answer he said, “Tell me this, Olivia, what do you do these days for a living?”

  “I work two days a week for my uncle and I help out here a little, cleanup, sometimes I bartend.”

  “And my dad pays you for that? Between him and your uncle you make enough to pay your bills?”

  “I make enough to help a little. Mostly Terrance pays the bills,” I admitted, a little ashamed. Dax was not where he expected to be at twenty-one I’m sure and neither was I.

  “Terrance makes good money, does he?” Dax said with a smug smile.

  “Pretty good,” I said. I knew where he was taking this conversation. I wasn’t going to let him convince me Terrance was doing anything illegal. Terrance took me with him on his runs a lot of times. Nothing ever changed hands but parts and sometimes money. Never bags full of drugs.

  “Olivia, I know that you’re not stupid. Naïve, maybe. Think about it, look at this run-down place and the run-down people that come in here every night and ask yourself, ‘Where does all the money to pay all these guys and customize all these bikes come from?’ Bull doesn’t make enough off this place to pay the light bill. Do you ever see any of these losers paying for their beer?”

  “You’re insinuating your own father is in the drug business. I’ve heard you insinuate that before, Dax. That may or may not be true, but it doesn’t mean any of these guys are doing anyth
ing wrong, much less Terrance.”

  “I’m not insinuating anything. I’m telling you that my father is in whatever business brings in the most money and you need to open your eyes a bit before your new boyfriend is doing time too. I wasn’t running anything for him and it happened to me. Olivia, none of these guys have a real job yet they drive fifty-thousand dollar bikes. Their wives drive SUVs and have their nails and hair done every other day. They have breast implants…those aren’t cheap. All of that alone should give you a clue. You’re like my mother, I think. You know very well what goes on here, you would just rather turn a blind eye to it. It’s too late for me, but I wish that you would get out before you get hurt again.”

  It made me angry for him to talk about Terrance like that and that although he said he didn’t think I was stupid, he was talking to me like I was. He would have never talked to me like that in the past. Maybe he was just trying to convince me to leave Terrance, I didn’t know. I tried to tell myself that he had anger and resentment built up, with good reason I was sure, but he was displacing it on whoever was closest to him. Hopefully it would die down after a while and it would all get easier.

  “Terrance doesn’t talk about the rest of the club to me. Kind of like you did in the old days. If they are doing things they shouldn’t be then that’s good, because I really don’t want to know. It’s not affecting me anymore. Not like it did when I found out that you were doing the very things you had held against your dad your entire life. Terrance knows better than anyone how badly that hurt me. He would never do that to me.”

  “Believe it or not, I do hope your new boyfriend doesn’t end up like your old one,” he said. “I don’t consider Terrance a friend any longer but I wouldn’t wish prison and a lifetime of being a felon on anyone.”

  I didn’t say anything. What was I supposed to say? He was still insinuating that Terrance was a bad guy and may end up in prison someday. I wanted to believe he was saying it out of jealousy and he didn’t really believe Terrance was running drugs or something just as bad. I was hoping that someday we could all be friends again.

  Changing the subject he asked, “So how’s school, are you finished yet?”

  Oh great, another sore subject. I was hoping that his mother already told him and I wouldn’t have to.

  “I quit school,” I told him.

  “Why?” He was looking intently at me with his penetrating green eyes like he was really interested. We both had such big dreams and we had worked hard our first year in college. We had both managed to make the Dean’s list and we were proud of each other. I didn’t want him to think I was blaming him, but I was honest.

  “I just got stressed out when you were…when everything happened with you…I just couldn’t think straight and I couldn’t sleep. I was failing everything. I didn’t even wake up and get to class some days. I should have gone to the doctor. I’m sure now that it was depression and I probably could have gotten help for it if I had tried. But I didn’t even have the energy for that. My aunt and uncle let me wallow for a while and then they just told me that was it. I needed to get out of bed and get on with life or I go home…to my mom. I got out of bed and I went to work for my Uncle Jeff and honestly, that’s when I started seeing Terrance a lot. He came in almost every day and—”

  “I think I’ve heard enough about you and Terrance,” he said.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. One more thing though. He was just as upset about what happened to you as I was. We were just there for each other and didn’t plan for anything else to happen. His heart broke for you, Dax.” His facial expression was telling me I was walking a fine line so I switched back to my own feelings. “I was worried about you. I would lie in my bed at night and wonder what it was like there. I imagined it being awful. All I know about prison is what I’ve seen on television. What was it like, Dax?”

  “It’s hard to describe. It wasn’t fun and it was lonely. I would never want to do it again, but you learn how to get along and how to survive. You just have to be adaptable because it’s a whole different world.”

  “You mean doing things like getting all the tattoos and working out?” I asked him.

  “The muscles were necessary, yes. I was a skinny kid when I went in and we both know that I was awfully pretty.” We both chuckled. It was nice to hear him laugh genuinely and not sarcastically. “The tattoos were because they were easy to get I guess and I was bored. It gave me something to look at and think about and even look forward to.”

  “I like them,” I told him honestly.

  They weren’t naked women like some of the other guys had or racial slurs. They were a bunch of other designs and were appealing to the eye nonetheless.

  “I'm glad you didn't cut off your blond hair and go bald like a lot of the other guys in prison.”

  He ran his hand through his hair and said, “I know, it is pretty sexy, isn't it?”

  I laughed. “Whatever you want to believe, Dax.”

  We grinned in unison. “Well it seems not to be stopping all the girls around here from trying to get with me.”

  “I think they're trying to get with you so that they can be your old lady and take all your money,” I quipped.

  He snickered. “Yeah, they probably are. Good thing I'm not interested in any of them. They're all a bunch of whores who will sleep with anyone to get what they want around here. The only girl I want is—” He didn't finish his sentence.

  Thank God he didn’t because I did not know how I was going to respond if he said my name. My heart was thumping hard in my chest. It felt like it was ready to explode out of my body.

  He stared at me for a few more seconds before saying, “Anyways, prison can only be described as prison. It's a lot scarier when you're actually in there as opposed to looking at it from the outside world.”

  We talked for a while. He told me more about prison, even though I was sure that he was sugar-coating it. He said he spent most of his time in a cell and only got to go out in the yard a few hours every other day. He was put in another cell out there; he called it the cage. I shuddered at the term. I couldn’t wrap my head around being put in a cage. That had to make you feel less than human no matter who you were.

  He told me about a few of the famous prisoners he had met and how books and television made them seem bigger than life but in reality they were really just big thugs like the rest of them.

  We talked about his mom, Gail, who I really liked, although I didn’t understand why she put up with the things she did from his dad. It was why he knew comparing me to her would be an insult. I wouldn’t mind being like Gail the lady, but Gail the wife of the president of the club was not what I was aiming for. He told me that she had sent him a care package every week and she had come to see him every Sunday and on holidays. His eyes always softened when he talked about her.

  We talked about my uncle and the shop. I told him that he was expanding and he told me if I went back to school and finished my degree he might be talked into giving me a management position someday. I was considering it for the winter semester since the fall semester had already started.

  I happened to glance at the clock over the bar and I noticed it was getting to be after lunch time and I knew Terrance would be home soon. I really didn’t want to go. We seemed to have found an easy rhythm and were talking like we used to. I used to love sitting up with him all night just talking. I loved staying up at night with him and doing other things too. I knew I shouldn’t have been thinking about it.

  I finally said, “Thanks for talking with me, Dax. I should be getting home now.”

  He looked like he had more to say. His eyes were serious and thinking about what he might say made me nervous.

  It was wasted energy though because all he really sputtered out was, “Sure, take care of yourself, Olivia.”

  I could feel his eyes watching me as I went into the kitchen to find Cookie who did in fact have my purse in the lost and found. My one pitiful credit card and the three dollars I had in cash
last night were still there. When I came back out and headed for the door Dax was still watching. I smiled and gave him a little wave. He raised his beer to me.

  Terrance was already home when I got to the apartment. I thought about telling him about my talk with Dax, but I didn’t really have anything to say about it that wouldn’t make him feel bad. It was a good talk. He had given me the chance he wasn’t willing to give Terrance. I would always love Dax, but I cared a lot about Terrance and had no desire to hurt him. When he asked me where I had been I told him about going out to look for my purse and finding it with Cookie at the bar. That was all I said about it. He didn’t ask any other questions either.

  Thank God.

  “What do you want to have for dinner?” I asked him.

  Chapter Five

  Dax

  My morning started out with my mother yelling at me to wake up. I looked at my phone, which was wrapped up in the sheets with me. It was only eight in the morning, what the hell? I didn’t have any appointments today that I knew of.

  “Dax!” She was right outside my bedroom door. It was the same bedroom that I had slept in since I was a kid. The only time I hadn’t was the one year I lived in the dorms at college and the couple of years I lived in Pelican Bay.

  “What, Mom? Is something wrong?” I knew I was whining but I had drunk way too much beer yesterday. I really needed to start finding other things to do than hanging out around that damn bar.

  “Everything’s fine, but your parole officer is here.”

  “Oh shit! Sorry, Mom. I forgot!”

  “It’s okay, just hurry please.” She used her sweet voice, but I could tell she was annoyed. My parole officer had called two days before and said that she would be by that morning. I told her that I would be sure to be there. I threw on some jeans and a T-shirt, slipped my moccasins on my feet, pulled a beanie over my head and headed out.

  “Hi, I’m sorry.” I stopped dead in my tracks.

  My parole officer was hot. She reminded me a lot of Olivia with the petite build and the long dark hair that she wore in a straight ponytail down her back. Her eyes weren’t dark like Olivia’s; that was the one major difference. They were the most incredible shade of light blue. How the hell was I supposed to take her seriously as a parole officer when she looked like that?