The Biker's Gift (Royal Bastards MC)

by Landis, Nikki

  A quick walk down the hall and around the corner led into the stock room where extra supplies were kept, and boxes of snacks towered next to the full shelves. The walk-in kept all of the frozen and refrigerated items in their proper place and temperature. I’d organized most of it myself since I’d been hired on, working extra shifts to stash away enough money for the future. At least, that was the plan.

  Before Suraya died.

  That was how I categorized shit in my head now. Life before six months ago and the present.

  Sighing, I made my way into the kitchen, sneaking up on Hank as he fried up a bunch of curly fries, jalapeño poppers, and chicken strips. He was humming to a country song and swishing his narrow hips while he lightly stomped a pair of tan suede cowboy boots with turquoise sparkles. I loved the shit out of this guy. He was the only person who could make me laugh since . . . well, you know. The headphones completely cut out all noise, so he didn’t hear my approach. It was the perfect opportunity.

  “Hey,” I called out, grabbing at the sides of his waist as he yelped and dropped the batch of fries back into the oil with a light splash.

  “Sasha,” he scolded, “girl you made me squeal like a little piglet. I’m gonna tell Rod.”

  Snorting, I acted like I was about to slap him on the ass. “Don’t start. Besides, your boy toy loves me.”

  “Almost as much as I do,” he quipped, pulling the fries out to cool as they dripped grease into the vat. “Trish leave?”

  “Yeah.” I snatched one of the chicken strips cooling in a nearby basket. “Did you make extra just for me?”

  “You know it. Hurry up, table three is nastier than a wet fart on Sunday mornin’ in church.”

  “Eww,” I responded with a chuckle, setting the chicken strip back in the spare basket. “You’re disgusting.”

  “So’s the dumbass who keeps asking for his food every two minutes since I got the order.” Hank placed the fried appetizers into baskets lined with red paper napkins and added little black cups of condiments.

  Shaking my head, I picked up the tray as he held open the swinging door. “Thanks, babe.”

  Holiday music was still playing from the jukebox as I entered, balancing the tray as I sashayed from behind the counter and headed out into the dining area. Table three had been full of a bunch of rowdy locals, middle-aged men who should be home with their wives instead of hanging out at a rundown sports bar complete with a couple of stripper poles that flashed tits and ass when there was a girl desperate enough to hang around and earn quick cash. Tonight, with the severe weather, only Elvis Presley’s Blue Christmas was keeping these fools company.

  The few big screen plasma televisions were on mute, scrolling the news, sports, or a random comedy complete with subtitles. I hated to hear them and didn’t bother with the noise unless someone asked. No one usually did, especially if there was entertainment of the scantily dressed female kind.

  It wasn’t until I was halfway across the room that I noticed table three was empty. Turning to the bar, it only took a second to be concerned. Shelly wasn’t mixing any drinks. No one was seated in front of her or any of the previously occupied tables. She was gone.

  My foot bumped into something on the ground and I stumbled, nearly tripping as I held onto the tray of food and watched it slide toward the ground. I tilted at the last minute and kept everything from spilling until my eyes found the bloody jeans and black leather vest of a man on the ground. He wasn’t moving even though I couldn’t see any visible wounds. Vacant eyes stared up at the ceiling as a chill ghosted across my spine. Something bad happened and I wasn’t sticking around long enough to find out what it was.

  Been there, done that, almost died in the process.

  No repeat performance of a near death experience for me. Hell no!

  I didn’t hesitate to place the tray on a nearby table and spin on my heel, running at a dead sprint toward the kitchen where I hoped Hank had the common sense to stay. Nobody else needed to die tonight. I was done with finding bodies on the damn ground or fighting for my life. Why didn’t I leave with Trish when she asked?

  The kitchen was empty when I entered and I didn’t pause, running toward the stockroom and the crate that blocked the old vent not in use anymore. I pried open the metal grate and reached inside, vaguely aware that only one bag remained. The back door was ajar when I approached the employee exit, but I didn’t pause to consider who could be waiting on the other side.

  Bursting through the open space, I was prepared to make a run for it. As luck would have it, I didn’t get far. Slamming into the hard body in front of me, I bounced off and hit the ground as a scream tore from my throat. A muscled mountain of a man yanked me up like a ragdoll and placed his gloved hand over my mouth as multiple shouts and the sound of running feet closed in on our location.

  The man cursed, dragging me along for a few seconds until I was lifted in the air and he sprinted around the side of the building. “Don’t move,” he snarled, caging me in with his massive frame.

  Only one thing concerned me more than the thought of my imminent death. Something that I hadn’t paused to consider until right now.

  Trish’s emergency bag wasn’t next to mine where she had left it. The backpack was gone.

  Chapter 3 – Bodie

  “Don’t move,” I snarled, pressing my body up against the curvy brunette. It had been ages since I felt the soft flesh of a woman up against my own. Her generous curves molded to my towering frame and seemed to fit into all the gaps and spaces with an ease that was downright disconcerting. Something about her was almost familiar – the way she fit into my embrace, the soft sigh that she uttered in the dark and frozen night, the feminine voice that whispered that I was practically squishing her to the point of suffocation.

  “Ease up,” she attempted to growl.

  Chuckling, I didn’t respond.

  The girl struggled against my hold and my head lowered, hissing into her ear. “Stop fighting me, sweet stuff. I’m enjoying it far too much and I don’t need the distraction right now.”

  Her body stiffened as she obeyed. The finest hint of spicy cinnamon released into the air as the wind captured and teased a few loose tendrils of her hair. My reaction was fierce and full-bodied as I sucked in a breath, inhaling more of her delicious scent. All the blood in my head rushed south and I was painfully hard, straining against the rough material of my jeans. It was the first time I had reacted to any woman this strongly in six months. I wanted to explore my reaction to this sexy creature but not while her life was in danger. This woman had no idea how dangerous the Scorpions were and how viciously they would harm her if she was caught.

  She didn’t protest as I grabbed her upper arm and made my way around the building toward the front of the bar, and the entrance that still twinkled in merry holiday colors with a false display of cheer. Peeking around the corner, I found the parking lot deserted. No cars remained. The Scorpions had parked their bikes close to my own and were the only means of transportation left. A stupid and costly mistake. Lifting a finger, I placed a single digit over the bandana and close to my lips to ensure the female’s silence. She nodded, flattening against the wall as I moved stealthily forward.

  I inhaled a deep breath and briefly closed my eyes as I sought out the presence of my Reaper.

  Beneath my skin, buried in the depths of my soul, the demon who owned and commanded my allegiance took control once more. I felt the change come over me as my upper lip curled into a snarl. My vision sharpened as I listened for the Scorpions and slowly approached the five motorcycles lined up in a row. My first instinct was to destroy the bikes, but I needed to protect the female who was in danger and hovering just out of view.

  As it turned out, my Reaper was denied his right to a kill.

  I was jumped by the other bikers and had to resort to using my gun. Never a preferable way to end an enemy. It was so quick and final. No fun at all. Plus, the bodies were gonna be a problem. Right now, there were other issu
es.

  Sighing, I ran back toward the bikes and found one of the Scorpions already riding away, slipping and sliding down the road in haste. I’d have to tell Grim about him and deal with it later. When I returned to where I’d left the female, there was no sign of her. Only a slight hint of cinnamon that lingered in the air.

  She was gone.

  Shit. She’d freeze to death if I didn’t find her soon. It wasn’t safe to remain here at the Blacktop. More Scorpions would show up and be ready for a fight.

  I bumped into her when I walked back inside the bar, hiding in the stockroom. She didn’t seem very bright but hell, she was probably panicked. I wrapped my hand around her upper arm and led her back to my bike, ignoring the way she fought me the entire time.

  “That storm is only going to get worse. We need shelter and a warm place to wait out the worst of it.”

  She didn’t reply, probably pissed that I forced her to join me.

  I had her plopped down on my bike, helmet over her head, and the miles already behind us before I even considered that this was probably kidnapping.

  We rode for a half hour before I could find a place for us to stop. The guy behind the counter of the cheap hotel barely glanced my way as I slapped cash down on the counter and picked up the room key. I led the girl inside the room as she shivered, and I dropped my bags on a nearby table. At least it was warm.

  We’d be comfortable enough until we needed to leave.

  I was shrugging off my soaked leather when I noticed her removing her own soggy clothes. Light danced across the attractive curves of her body and glistened on her slightly damp skin. Every layer she peeled off revealed more of her creamy skin and luscious, voluptuous frame. When her eyes met mine, all the breath rushed out of my lungs.

  The woman was a fucking stunner.

  I stumbled backward, ass dropping on the edge of the queen-sized bed, jaw clenched hard in sudden surprise and disbelief.

  The jet-black silkiness of her long, thick hair gleamed in the pale lighting of the cheap hotel. Her throat had a graceful column that drew my eye straight down to the luscious swell of her ample breasts. Those tits would be my undoing. I couldn’t help dragging my gaze over the generous curve of her hips or the long, long legs clad in skin-tight denim. When I managed to lift my eyes back up to her face, I caught the glare of bright green, cat-shaped eyes that narrowed with suspicion.

  That wasn’t the shocking part.

  No, it was something else entirely. A nice little trip back into my fucked up past that I thought I had dealt with until this moment. My chest grew tight and my temper flared. I stood up, rushing forward as I slammed her back into the wall.

  This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

  The months had sped by with my thirst for vengeance and the agony of what I had lost still hadn’t diminished. Never would, I reckoned. Not until I took what that motherfucker Acid had taken from me. He would pay for his choices. I’d see to that. Revenge had been my only mistress, my only need besides the hate that festered deep inside. I didn’t need to be fucked in the one way that hurt the most.

  The woman staring me in the face was the exact image of my ol’ lady Suraya.

  And there was just one problem with that.

  Suraya was dead.

  Chapter 4 – Sasha

  He was going to kill me. The big, bad biker was gonna pull out a knife and slit my throat any second. I didn’t know what I did to piss him off, but the man was coiled tighter than a rattlesnake and twice as mean. He seemed on the verge of losing his shit which didn’t make any sense at all. The only thing I could thing of was to try to calm him down and plead for my release.

  “Please don’t kill me,” I begged, tentatively placing my hands against the hard planes of his chiseled chest. “I don’t know what I’ve done, but –”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  Blinking, I didn’t understand what he was asking or why he was so hostile. “Huh?”

  “Who. Are. You.” The words were growled so low he sounded like a beast ready to rip apart his prey.

  Trembling with fear, all I could think about was my own stupidity. I should have left Nevada when I had the chance. After the Scorpions and Suraya’s death, I never should have lingered on borrowed time. This was nothing more than the inevitable result of a long string of stupid and selfish choices.

  “Your name.”

  Daring to look into the cold, icy blue eyes of the man in front of me, I answered him truthfully. “Pratt. Sasha Pratt.”

  He blanched, shaking his head slightly. “That’s impossible.”

  Frowning, I tilted my head to the side. “You’ve heard of me?”

  “Are you sure you want to insist on this? That’s really your last name?”

  What the actual fuck? “Yes,” I replied with attitude.

  As soon as I spoke, he slammed his hands into the walls, banging against the drywall with such ferocity and rage that I managed to duck out of his embrace and make a run for the door.

  I didn’t get far.

  Tackled to the ground, I ended up with my ass in the air and my right cheek pressed into the nasty, stained carpet while he pinned my arms behind my back. “Let me up!” I screamed, right cheek squashed and growing hot with my own ire.

  Who the hell was this guy? Who did he think he was? Another biker who acted like everything and everyone was his personal property?

  The big guy had straddled my hips and his grip tightened more with every second I struggled. Panting, I finally stopped and blew out a frustrated breath.

  “That’s better.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Not now, little hellfire. You wouldn’t like it that rough.”

  My lip curled up in a snarl as I released a few curses. “Let me go!”

  “Listen, you stop struggling and I’ll let you up but fight me and I’ll keep you exactly where you are as long as needed.”

  Shit.

  “Fine,” I relented.

  A few seconds later I was hauled upward and forced to sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing the feeling back into my tender wrists. That man had a grip that was no joke. He was incredibly strong. I didn’t say anything but watched as he stood before me, a frown marring his handsome and rugged features while the intense but deceptively attractive color of his eyes watched me with something close to malice. He crossed his thick arms covered in black ink, thinking in silence for several minutes.

  “We aren’t staying here.”

  Huh? “I thought you said we needed to ride out this storm and stay off grid.”

  “I did. That was before I found out who you are.”

  “You believe me?” I asked, a little too hopeful. Maybe he was acting this way because he knew of my sister. He was certainly acting like it. The smug, arrogant biker was wearing a Royal Bastards MC leather jacket. He had to be familiar with Suraya. She knew the whole club. At least, that was what she told me once, months before she died.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” I admitted.

  “Exactly.”

  Asshole. “Fine, I’ll play along. Where are we going?”

  He didn’t answer, packing what few belongings were scattered about the room, and grabbing my left arm as we approached the door. I eyed the bathroom with longing, already regretting the lack of a hot shower in the near future.

  The biker paused, dropping everything as he pulled out a big, long-sleeved shirt in heavy denim from his bag. I was immediately dressed like a fucking Barbie as he shoved my arms inside and buttoned it up, placing my heavy winter jacket over the top until I looked like that kid on the Christmas movie. You know the one – where the kid gets the BB Gun, but the little brother is dressed up like a tick about to pop. Yeah, that was me. I could feel the sweat beginning to gather on my lower back. In case anyone asked, puffy was not pretty.

  “You won’t look so disgusted when the icy Nevada winds are whipping around us on my bike.”


  I didn’t argue. He was probably right.

  “Braid your hair. Now.”

  “Bossy,” I muttered, quickly taking the heavy strands and plaiting them, knowing I didn’t have anything to secure the end with when I looked up and caught the rubber band stained in motor oil he held out in his meaty fist. “Whatever.” I quickly secured the end in a few loops and tossed the braid over my shoulder. “Happy now, Mr. Dictator?”

  Yeah, I was being sassy. And I didn’t care.

  “Watch that pretty little mouth or I’ll put it to better use.” His smile wasn’t a leer or even heavily laced with lust. I’d say he looked menacing and decidedly predatory. Almost like he hoped I would give him an excuse.

  What the hell did I get myself into this time? Trish would never let me hear the end of it.

  My smile faded as I turned away and locked my jaw, closing off my emotions. I didn’t know this man. He didn’t know me. All I could do was hope that he would take me back to his prez and I could negotiate for a phone call and a day or two of rest before I met up with Trish. She wouldn’t leave me behind. There had to be some kind of explanation for taking her bag.

  Maybe she sensed the danger and planned to come to my place later tonight.

  Only I wouldn’t be home.

  “Let’s move.”

  The freezing wind blew into my face as we approached his bike. He mumbled under his breath, mild expletives leaving his mouth as he kept glancing in my direction. A skull print bandana was lifted over his nose and mouth so I couldn’t make out his features clearly. The biker yanked another from his back pocket and tied it around my neck, filling in the gap from the collar of my coat and the helmet he placed over my head. He gestured to the bike and then hopped on, daring me to refuse to climb on behind him.

  It wasn’t my first time on a motorcycle, and I lifted my chin as I sat on the bike and loosely wrapped my hands around his waist. With a grumble of frustration that must have been loud because I heard him clearly, he yanked my hands closer together and I knew what he was saying. I had to hold on tighter, especially in this weather.