Integrity Has No Bounds (17 page)

He missed catching her staring at his ass
through the glass partition separating the client waiting room and
the shop itself. Twice he’d busted his knuckles while staring at
her instead of paying attention to what he was working on. “Face
it, dumbass, she’s got your dick twisted up in a knot.”

Sex with other women was physically
satisfying, and now that he thought about it, every one of the
handful of sex partners had been blonde for almost a year.
Fuck
.

He fell asleep with a swollen cock, and woke
up to the sound of something moving nearby. The colt was in his
hand within seconds and pointed toward the sounds of movement in
the grass. It was a deer running through the trees being chased by
a small pack of mangy dogs. None of the animals paid him any
attention, and he thought about shooting the damn dogs, but he
didn’t want to draw attention to his resting spot, and hell, the
laws of nature. The dogs were at least working for their dinner, he
hoped the deer got away, but if he didn’t, at least the meat would
keep the dogs from attacking someone’s kid or a farmer’s
livestock.

He groaned as he got up and stretched the
kinks out of his back. Damn, it seemed the ground got harder each
year. He took a piss and pulled a bottle of water from his
saddlebags and rinsed his mouth, before drinking the clear liquid
to quench his thirst. First stop would be for food and gas, it
would be another long ride today to reach Wescott, Alabama.

He pulled into the parking lot of the former
corset factory turned into the Mother Chapter for Thor’s Legion.
There were several scoots already there, and once he parked his
bike, he admired a beautifully restored 45 flathead 1948 model.
Painted a bright candy apple red, with added chrome accents, and he
envied the owner.

He could hear muffled sounds that sounded
suspiciously like a bar fight. The man sailing through the door
confirmed his suspicions. Unfortunately for the man, whose neck got
slammed by the heavy steel door, a long arm grabbed the head of
greasy hair and tried to pull it back into the building without
moving the door from where his neck was wedged between the door and
frame.

John decided to save the cleaners the trouble
of cleaning up a decapitated head and pulled back on the door
handle to allow the unmoving body to be moved on the next jerk of
the head. The noises of breaking furniture and the continuous roar
of a deep voice gave him reason to sneak a look around the opened
door and step inside.

He looked around to see several hands
exchanging money while a man roughly resembling a Kodiak bear was
tossing men around like they were matchsticks. His hair was as wild
as his eyes, and John had seen men in this condition before and
wanted no part of what this man was dishing out.

He was tossing tables and chairs out of his
way in his quest to capture the men that scrambled on hands and
knees to avoid whatever punishment he was planning for them. One
man was holding his bleeding side and had been heading toward the
door when it was open. The crestfallen look on his face as the door
slammed shut was almost comical, and the man hung his head in
defeat. The berserker sent his huge booted foot under the bleeding
man’s ribcage sending the man onto his back, only to be picked up
from the floor by his cut, and having a meaty fist pulverize his
face and head.

John kept his eyes on the battle blinded man
and backed himself up slowly to the bar. He backed into a barstool
and quickly looked to see if he’d violated anyone’s personal space.
He was here for information, nothing more—and hopefully nothing
less. The man siting on the stool next to the one he’d bumped into
was giving him an unfriendly look. His cut had a president patch
and John nodded to him and introduced himself.

“I’m only here to ask where I can find a man
by the tag of Rolf, I’m not here to cause any problems or
interfere. Baron would have called, but there’s not exactly a
directory of phone numbers for MC clubs, I can give you his cell
and you can get confirmation from him if you want.”

Trencher eyed the motherfucker who had the
balls to waltz into their clubhouse like he owned the fucker. “What
business do you happen to have with Rolf?” He ignored the sound of
glass shattering behind him.

John looked at the men congregated near the
wall, then looked at Trencher. “My woman is his daughter, I think
she’s here, or headed this way. Time to take her home.”

Trencher looked ready to burst out laughing
and shook his head. “Are you familiar with the James family?”

John shrugged his shoulders. “I know Stevie
and Viking, Stevie calls him Harry. I’ve heard stories about the
old man but I’ve never met him. I’m just here to collect my
woman.”

That statement caused Trencher to laugh, and
it took a few minutes for him to calm enough to talk. “Do you see
that big son-of-a-bitch that’s probably finished with his fit about
now?” He waited for the nod from John and jerked his thumb over his
shoulder. “That is Rolf, and the lady standing right here next to
me, the one with the gun in her hand? That’s June Bug and Stevie is
on the other end of the bar. The women of that family are as wild
as the men.”

He started laughing again as John’s mouth
hung open for a minute. His lips shut and his eyes narrowed.

He hadn’t bothered to look at the women
standing on the bar when he’d come in. He’d registered that someone
was standing there but seeing the gun in the older woman’s hand
trained toward the men standing on the edges of the room made him
look around to see Stevie standing five feet from her mother in an
identical stance and with gun in her hand.

This wasn’t his Stevie, this was a glorious
Amazon biker chic princess. Seeing the way her vest cradled her
tits made his cock stir in interest. The low riding jeans showed
her pierced navel. She wore the same dangly sapphire blue jewel
that hung from its curved ring. His lips had been there just a few
days ago. The creamy skin that showed under the vest and above the
waistband was maybe two inches, and he loved seeing it for himself,
but he looked around to see who else was looking at his woman.

A skinny Prospect and two older men were
watching her watch them and they were grabbing their crotches and
gesturing for her to come on down off the bar and play with
them.

He was torn between beating some gawking
fuckers’ heads in and dragging her happy ass down from her perch
himself. He stepped around broken chairs and a body that was lying
in his direct route to the woman he considered his own.

He stood directly in front of her and she
finally looked down at him.

Stevie had been nervous standing there, but
she would rot in hell before she let her parents down by not
standing against the family’s enemies. Her father was still
prowling, looking for his adversaries and when she looked down,
John was there. He was so handsome, so sexy wearing his leathers,
the way the chaps cradled his crotch made her stare at that small
space remembering what was hidden from her view behind the denim
and leather. His hands were on his hips, and the look on his face
was a mix of pissed John and turned on John. She wondered what he
was mad about, and the big question was what was he doing here?

She lowered the gun in her hand and he
reached out to pull her hand down to take the weapon, and he was so
focused on her face and body language that he barely registered the
roar behind him.

Too late, he saw Stevie’s mouth open to say
something to the man who grabbed him from behind and slammed his
head into the wooden bar. John knew what was happening, but his
eyes closed and his body crumpled to the floor.

Stevie screamed at her father to stop, but he
was still in his haze of battle and she didn’t know what to do, he
was reaching for John again, and she set her gun down on the bar
and jumped on the big man’s back. She set her long arms around his
neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, and held on for dear
life. Her face was tucked into his neck as she screamed at her
father to stop.

“Daddy, stop, he is a friend, he wasn’t
trying to hurt me, Daddy, please stop, you’ll hurt him. Daddy,
please, I think I love him.” She was crying and was wetting his
neck with her tears, but she didn’t care about looking weak or
vulnerable. She was happy to see John, her heart felt like smiling
every time she’d laid eyes on him since the day they met, but if
her father broke him into pieces, he wouldn’t be the same
thick-headed Neanderthal she cared about.

Rolf’s hands held leather and cotton
material. The soft hand that laid against his cheek didn’t move
from the spot it first touched. He was slowly registering something
wet on his neck and the noise of a woman crying, begging her dad to
stop hurting the man she loved? He shook his head trying to clear
the red fog that clouded his brain. Another woman’s voice was
telling him how brave he was and how proud she was to have him as
her man.

“Come back to me, Daddy, you destroyed our
enemies, it’s over now, let’s go home, baby. Momma’s tired and you
need to help Stevie, she’s crying for you.”

The man’s body dropped to the floor and June
Bug was enclosed in Rolf’s thick embrace. The big man was vibrating
as the crazy left his eyes. The men still standing upright in the
club breathed a sigh of relief. They weren’t stupid enough to move
from their places yet though, this was not a new thing for Rolf,
the man was a tank when riled.

Finally June Bug pulled her lower body back
enough for Stevie to lower her legs to the floor and let her arms
relax their death grip on Rolf’s neck. She went to her knees as
soon as she gained her balance, and crouched next to John’s
swelling head.

Someone handed her a plastic bag filled with
ice and she didn’t bother to look up when she thanked the man. Her
eyes were only for John. His face was swelling with the side of his
head and she wondered if she should call an ambulance.

June Bug was still petting and talking her
husband down and wouldn’t be any help but Trencher, the President
of the charter, crouched on the other side of John’s prone body
while she pressed the ice on his face and head.

“He told me he came to take his woman home,
but he knew he would have to deal with your father. He didn’t know
that the big guy was your father until I told him. The dumb fucker
only had his sights on you once he saw you and your mom standing on
the bar like that. He walked right passed Rolf to get to you.” He
lifted one of John’s eyelids and could see the man had a
concussion, fuck.

“We need to get him medical help, and from
the looks of your pant leg, he’s not the only one. Are you
bleeding, or is it Rolf’s blood soaking your thigh?”

Stevie looked down at her thigh and saw the
blood that he mentioned. She had to swallow back a scream, it had
to be her father’s blood, and she looked up to search out where her
parents were standing.

Her mother already stood at her husband’s
back with his shirt wadded up into a pad that she was pressing over
the wound. Her head was on his shoulder and she was whispering next
to his ear.

“I, uh, I need to get them help.” She took a
deep breath to center her thoughts before turning her attention
back to Trencher.

“Do you have some way to transport them, or
should we call an ambulance.”

He grinned at her and stood. The girl was a
James alright, cool as hell in any situation. He’d like to see how
she reacted after the danger was past, but he had enough to worry
about taking care of damage control right here. He walked behind
the bar and pulled a key from the box under the bar and brought it
back to her.

He handed the key to her. “I’ll help get them
loaded up, can you deal with the clinic?”

Stevie nodded her head and gave him a tired
smile. “Sure, I found them on the side of the road like this.”

She got a half smile from Trencher and he
signaled for a couple of beefy brothers to carry John to the van.
She followed the awkward shuffling trio out of the front door,
while June Bug led a still wild looking Rolf out behind them.

Stevie drove them to the hospital in the next
town, and let her mother deal with her father, while she gave the
admitting nurse what little information she had about John. She had
to tell them that she was his fiancée so they would allow her to
stay with him and gain information. His wallet yielded his license
and insurance cards, and a grand in cash.

She said that he’d fallen off his bike when
he hit a woodchuck hole in the ground and hit his head on a rock.
It was the only excuse she could think of to explain his
injuries.

Luckily her father was treated and released
within two hours. Unluckily for her, he was clear-headed and wanted
answers about her relationship to the man he’d come close to
killing.

She told him almost everything, while her
mother sat with a small smile on her lips. “He’s not as smart as I
thought he was though, Trencher told me that he walked right into
the clubhouse and once he saw me, he walked right into the path of
your sight. How dumb is that?” She burst into tears, and had her
face buried in her hands, and didn’t see the look her parents
exchanged.

Rolf looked at his daughter and shook his
head,
yep she’s got it bad for the man
. The thought made him
sad, his little girl was a grown woman now.

June Bug was smiling gently at Stevie’s bent
head and turned to him, meeting his frown with her smile.

If there was anything more certain than the
sun coming up each morning, June had as much faith in her heart
knowing that Rolf loved their children more than life itself.
Stevie had turned into a beautiful young woman in their absence,
but this developing love with the big tattooed biker gave her a
reason to really smile. She leaned in close to Rolf and whispered
the new hope she had into his ear. “Just think, if this works out
for them, we’ll get babies to play with. Wouldn’t grandpa sound
nice to hear from a little one’s mouth?”