Rebel Wayfarers MC Boxset 1, page 98
Winger grimaced, looking over at him. “Sorry, Bear. They are always like this. Baby girl, maybe you should ride with Bingo instead.” Bingo was an older man, president of the Fort Wayne chapter of the Rebel Wayfarers, and his bike had a rigid frame, transferring every bump to the riders’ asses.
Lockee tipped her head back and yelled, “No way, Daddy. I’m in love with this bike, not getting my ass off it until the Fort.”
Rob smiled tentatively at Winger. “It’s okay. I’ll keep her safe.”
Laughing, Winger let Melanie dismount and Rob copied his movements, holding one hand up for Lockee to grasp and steady herself. “You got kids, man?” Winger nonchalantly asked him, and Rob responded as if someone had booted him in the throat. He couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t utter a word. Toeing down the kickstand, he let the bike lean over into it, struggling to reply.
“I did,” he eventually choked out as DeeDee walked up, having alighted from her own bike a few paces away.
“Oh, fuck, man. I’m sorry. Mason said something about your family and I still stepped in that shit and stirred it, Bear. Fucking sorry.” Winger was conscience-stricken, taking in the expression on Rob’s face.
DeeDee lifted a hand and lightly brushed the backs of her knuckles down his cheek, telling him with tears in her voice, “I’m sorry, Bear.”
She walked away, and Winger said in a hushed voice, “We tried for a long time to have Lockee. DeeDee lost more than one baby, some even after feeling them move in her belly. I know it’s not the same, but we feel it every day, man. Sorry.”
“It’s been four years,” Rob said tightly. “I still miss them every day. I get it, Winger. No worries.” Standing, he swung his leg over the bike and walked into the store.
When they pulled into the clubhouse in Fort Wayne, a prospect held the gate open for the group, swinging it closed after everyone was off the street. There were a number of bikes already parked on the lot, and Winger waved Rob to one of two spots near the door. He repeated his earlier motions to hand Lockee off the bike, and was startled when she leaned into him, embracing him tightly from where she stood on the ground.
His attention was drawn back to the gate, where a solitary woman was walking past the compound. Her long, dark hair was unbound, draping down her spine, and she looked like a student, carrying a messenger bag. As if she sensed his gaze on her, she raised her head and met his eyes across the distance, her grey ones locking onto his greens. There was a crackle of awareness that blazed across his skin when their eyes met, and he saw her falter and trip, her feet keeping her from falling with a jerky stutter-step. Then she was gone out of sight, walking past the compound lot and behind the next building. He felt himself incline forward a few inches, as if he were drawn to where she’d disappeared, and then found himself pulled back by Lockee’s arms snug around his chest.
“Thanks for letting me ride with you, Bear. I felt…safe,” she told him with easy confidence. He nodded, looking over at Winger and catching a quick smile crossing the man’s face. Glancing back to the gate, he wondered about the woman and his reaction to her, thinking to himself, That was weird.
They dismounted, stretching the road kinks out of their muscles as they walked into the clubhouse, Rob with his bag in hand. The girls went into a back room, but DeeDee paced alongside Winger into the main room, her hand carelessly tucked in his back pocket and his arm slung around her shoulders. Their casual intimacy and affection set up an ache in his heart, and his mind turned again to the dark-haired woman.
After a quick discussion with a member behind the bar, Bingo came over and informed Rob, “Deke will show you where to put your bag. We’ll eat before long, but meantime, help yourself to the booze, or get a prospect to serve you. You’re a guest in this house tonight, but not a member, so don’t go straying into places you’ve not been shown. Shit’s gonna get wild here in a bit, once the old ladies go home.”
DeeDee laughed and said, “I’m leaving shortly, boys.”
A man Rob presumed was Deke motioned him over towards a staircase. “Guest rooms are on the second floor, right at the top of the stairs. It’s got a shitter and a shower, so you’re good to go. What time are you heading out in the morning?”
Rob answered, “I dunno. When I get up, I expect. You need me out by a particular time?”
“Naw, Bear, this ain’t no fucking hotel. I’m just trying to make sure we’ll have a breakfast for you before you hit the road, man. You can fucking stay all day if you want. Bingo’s made you welcome.” Deke laughed a little.
“Hey, I have a question for you,” Rob started, and waited for Deke’s encouraging nod. “Bingo said things are going to get wild? What does that mean, exactly?”
“Drinking, fucking, dancing, drinking…probably fucking some more.” Deke shrugged. “If you aren’t interested, just come up to your room. Most of the bitches will respect a closed door. If you want company though, you can leave it open. You’ll tempt one in quick that way.”
Rob nodded, not truly understanding, but he was now positive he’d be spending the evening in this room. He was right about where he stayed; however, the noises and sounds of the unrestrained party emanating from the main room downstairs fed his dreams, filling them with dark hair and grey eyes, and he woke in the middle of the night so aroused and engorged that his cock hurt. He wondered if anyone was still around, and got up to open his door slightly, acting without wasting too much time rationalizing it.
He got back in bed, and loosely cupping the shaft of his cock in his hand, he deliberately palmed it up and then down, circling with finger and thumb around the sensitive head. Hips thrusting restlessly, pushing his cock into his hand as he tightened his fingers slightly, still holding it loosely. His eyes were closed to enhance the sensations, so the first indication he had company was when the edge of the bed dipped. He froze, opening his eyes and looking to see a pretty, naked brunette resting quietly on the mattress, sitting with her legs crossed, her pussy in dark shadow while her full breasts were on proud display.
Seeing she’d gained his attention, she reached up and cupped her bare breasts. “Bear,” she called his name and moaned as she twisted her nipples between the forefinger and thumb of each hand. His cock jumped at the sound, and his hips thrust impatiently again, his fingers now tighter around the hard length of his cock. She shifted, looking as if she was going to move towards him, and he growled out, “Stay there. Keep doing that. Keep touching yourself.” He couldn’t see her eyes, but knew they weren’t brown…or grey.
She smiled and nodded, her hands once more cupping her breasts. Molding and pressing them together, she massaged and pinched her nipples again and again, pulling them into erect peaks and drawing another low-pitched moan from her own lips. Rob’s back arched, his shoulders pressing into the mattress as he slid his hand quickly up and down his shaft. Holding tightly at the base with one hand, he slipped the fingers of his other up to the head, rapidly jacking the rim of his cock, imagining the small hands of the woman today as she’d clutched the straps of her backpack.
The brunette slid a finger into her mouth and sucked, pulling it out with an audible pop. She stroked her nipples with the wet fingertip, and he watched her areolas pebble and tighten with the stimulation. Blindly, he reached out with his left hand, scarcely spanning the space between them, his fingertips tracing the outer curve of one breast.
She made a sound in the back of her throat, using her hands to raise and lift herself into his touch. As he cupped the warmth and softness of her breast, trailing the pad of his thumb gently around the erect nipple, he groaned deep in his chest and stilled. His hand and fingers tightened around his cock as he came, shooting thick ropes of semen, painting his chest and stomach with his hot come.
He felt the bed shift, and thought she was leaving, but her voice came from beside his head, humming with awe in her tone, “That was beautiful.”
He jerked to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, elbows on his thighs and head in his hands. He asked her quietly, “Can you leave, please? Shut the door?”
“Sure, baby. Want me to clean you up first?” she asked as he felt the mattress move again, hopefully confirmation of her pending departure.
“No,” he responded to her curtly.
“Okay, baby,” she replied sweetly, seemingly unflustered at his selfish behavior and tolerant of his request that she leave. He hadn’t even asked her name, hadn’t worried about her pleasure. He sat there silently until he heard the door close and latch in the frame.
“Fuucck,” he ground out between clenched teeth. He’d touched her. He’d reached his hand out and…touched another woman. Not even someone he knew, or cared about—just some random woman. What the hell was wrong with him? Surging to his feet, tense with anger at himself, he went into the attached bathroom and turned the shower on as cold as it would go. Standing in the freezing water for as long as he thought he could manage, he gritted his teeth and pushed himself to stay another five minutes, then ten—not yielding until his teeth were chattering uncontrollably and the muscles in his arms and legs were shuddering with cold.
Resting on the mattress, he tapped his still-icy fingertips against the place over his heart where the envelope would be if he were at home. His mind empty, the taps kept cadence with a heart not his own, a restless, phantom heartbeat.
13 - Forced changes
Sleepless for the remainder of the night, Rob readied himself quickly when light leached into the room around inadequate drapes across the sole window. Zipping his bag closed, he looked around the bare, impersonal room one final time, ensuring there was nothing of himself left behind, and he walked out, leaving the door standing wide behind him.
Silently treading down the stairs, he entered the main room of the clubhouse and halted in his tracks. There were men and women on every available horizontal surface around the room. Most were still sleeping, but there were a few men awake and moving, some sitting at the bar with plates of eggs and fried potatoes in front of them. Dragging his gaze across the room as he walked to the bar, he saw the naked brunette from last night asleep alone on a pool table, curled into a tight ball with one hand tucked between her legs, cupping her pussy protectively.
He dropped his bag near the bar and was directed with grunts and chin lifts down a corridor to the left, where he followed voices and noise to the kitchen. Quickly making himself a plate of food, he stood against the wall, holding the plate at chest level with one hand while the other made short work of shoveling his breakfast into his mouth. It was a familiar pose from his time in the Navy, where on a sub, space was at a premium, and even though meals were served in shifts, there were never enough seats to go around.
Rinsing his dishes, he placed them in the dishwasher and left the room. The entire exercise had taken about five minutes, and had been conducted entirely in silence, which suited him this morning. Back in the main room, he grabbed his bag and headed towards the door, surprised when an inquiry came from his right. “Ya headed out then, Bear?”
Continuing to walk, he responded with, “Yeah, I’m gonna get on the road. Tell Bingo I said thanks for the place to crash.”
“Will do,” came the voice again. “Happy trails, brother.”
He paused, looking towards the door. “Yesterday, when we got here, there was a girl walking by on the sidewalk. Dark hair, backpack. You know her?” He didn’t know why he was asking about her; he’d probably never be back in this town.
“Yeah, I’ve seen her. She’s back and forth to classes. The River Riders watch her.” The reply surprised him and he looked at the man, who he thought was called Pinto. He was seated in a chair, a nearly naked woman draped across him, his hand moving idly between her legs.
“River Riders? Who are they? Why do you think they watch her?” He told himself he was curious. It seemed unusual for what sounded like a club to keep track of someone they’d consider a citizen.
“No fucking idea. She’s probably on somebody’s radar. Riders are another club here in the Fort,” the man confirmed his suspicions and shrugged, turning back to the woman on his lap.
Outside, Rob strapped his bag into place and straddled the bike, starting it as he pulled on his gloves. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but wasn’t prepared for the full-body hug from the slight feminine form that flung herself at him. He recognized Lockee and his arms went around her in a reflexive move, steadying and supporting her, holding her upright but not against him. Hands under her arms, he set her away from him and frowned. She was so immature and impulsive, and after the way they first met, he suspected her dad wouldn’t like if it he saw her in Rob’s arms.
“What are you doing, girl?” he asked in a gruff, annoyed voice, feeling the decade of years and experience between them.
She grinned and ducked her head. “Thanking you again for the ride yesterday. Daddy doesn’t ordinarily let me ride with anyone but him or Mom, so it was a lot of fun, Bear.”
Rob frowned harder, his brows lowering over his eyes at the thought rolling around in his head. This girl was younger than Andrea had been when she died. “You already thanked me. So, again, you’re welcome, Lockee. Tell your dad I appreciate the hospitality. I gotta get going if I’m going to cover miles today. You take care.”
He rolled out of the parking space and up to the gate, pausing as the prospect on watch opened it for him to motor out and into the street. Opening up the throttle a bit, he pushed south on surface streets, working his way over to the interstate, ready to get home.
Two days later, he was about an hour out of Norfolk when he stopped for dinner. He had made good time on the trip and was looking forward to collapsing into his own bed when he reached the shop. Digging his phone from his pocket, he saw he’d missed five calls from Donny since lunch. Muttering to himself, he dialed the number, waiting through three rings before a man answered. It wasn’t Donny.
“Is Donny around?” he asked, uncertain who this man was. “Tell him it’s Rob.”
There was a noise on the phone and then he heard, “Rob?” and recognized the voice of the guys’ aunt, Judy.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately turning around to climb back on the bike, his desire for dinner forgotten in a rush of anxiety at the palpable anguish in her voice. “Where’s Donny?” He bit out the question, because she hadn’t spoken after that one word, and unless he could get her talking again, he didn’t have any way of knowing what had happened.
“Judy, what’s wrong? Where’s Donny?” he repeated when she was persistently silent, and after the third iteration, he heard her take in a quick breath.
“Donny’s okay; he’s here. We’re at Sentara Norfolk and he’s with the doctor, Rob. It’s Dennis,” she choked out.
“Okay, okay. Slow and easy. Take in a breath, Judy. Breathe with me, okay? You’re doing great. Why is Donny with the doctor? Slow and easy, all right? You’re doing great. What happened to Dennis?” He had to keep her talking or get her to hand the phone off. He was in a panic to understand what was going on.
“Dennis took a shift late last night; a driver got sick and had to go home,” she said, her voice quavering.
“In one of the taxis? Dennis was driving? Was he in an accident?” His anxiety level skyrocketed at the thought of an accident. He could almost hear the grinding metal and harsh screams of tires on pavement…like in his dreams. He was trying to piece things together to form a picture, but she hadn’t given him enough information yet, no framework for the image. “Who’s there? Who’s with you, Judy?”
“He wasn’t in an accident, Rob. He was carjacked. They shot him,” she said. Her voice trailed off, and then came back hoarse and pain-filled. “They shot him for forty dollars.” There was noise in the room with her, a loud clatter, and then silence as the call was disconnected. Rob took in a deep breath, ramming his hands back into his gloves. He put the phone in his pocket and was swiftly back on the road, covering the distance to the hospital much quicker than the laws allowed.
Parking outside the main entrance, he went to the information booth, only to find they wouldn’t tell him anything; they wouldn’t even concede that Dennis was in the hospital. Fucking privacy laws, he thought angrily, dragging the phone out of his pocket again. Dialing Donny’s number, he sagged in relief when his friend answered.
“Donny, I’m at the main entrance. Where are you guys?” he asked quickly.
There was silence on the phone, and then he heard Donny say flatly, “I’ll come get you.” The call terminated, and Rob stood expectantly near the elevators, keeping himself from pacing with some effort.
As the elevator doors hissed open, he saw Donny standing inside the car, shoulders slumped and his normally neat clothing looking uncharacteristically rumpled and creased. He stood staring in shock for so long the doors began to slide closed, and Rob jerked, holding out a hand to force them back open. Stepping into the elevator, he wrapped an arm around Donny’s shoulders, pulling him in for a tight hug. “Tell me,” he pleaded.
Donny’s tongue swept out between his lips and he opened his mouth. Nothing came out at first, and he took in a deep breath as the elevator stopped on the third floor. “It’s bad,” he said finally, pulling away. “They don’t know why he’s not dead already.” Rob followed him off the elevator as Donny shook his head, saying, “The guy shot him in the head; he shouldn’t still be here. A cop found him just before lunch in an alley not far from the docks. They had to bring him in a chopper. They Nightingaled him here and weren’t convinced he’d even survive the transport, but he keeps hanging on.”
Taking a deep breath, Donny said, “Aunt Judy’s here. We’ve been sitting with him…Uncle Paul, too. Come on. Denny’d want you here.” He looked up at Rob, unshed tears standing in his eyes. “He looks bad. They’ve got these tubes coming out of his head, and his face is so swollen it’s hard to see Denny under there.”
