The Last Riders - First Four Votes (21 page)

BOOK: The Last Riders - First Four Votes
12.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“He’s Viper,” Evie said.

“Well, that’s none of my business, is it?” Winter saw Beth’s hand tremble when she picked up her drink.

“To answer your question, if Beth was in trouble, we were going to be here to help,” Evie answered Loker’s angry question.

“Who the fuck are you?” Killyama asked.

“Evie,” she answered in a tough voice.

“You’re the bitch who left Beth high and dry! Damn, girl, you got balls to stand there after you fucked her man then watched her man fuck these other bitches.”

Winter noticed the other club was beginning to look at The Last Riders members with dawning respect.

“How d’you manage that, man? My bitch would cut my balls off in my sleep if I touched another bitch,” Ace asked Razer.

“We did it to protect her. We had a brother who was a crazy fuck and the only way we could protect her was to put space between us,” Razer answered.

“Yeah, was the hand that was playing with that girl’s titty imaginary? Any one of these fucks do that to one of my bitches, I’m gonna cut his hand off,” Killyama warned before leaning back in her seat. Winter noticed the other motorcycle club lost their admiring expressions.

“No, it wasn’t imaginary…”

“Let’s go, Winter.” Shelly and Lexi were grabbing their purses. Winter picked her purse up, but hearing her cousin’s name drew her attention back to the bikers.

“…Bedford was arrested or he would never have made a clear move against us. We had to have proof he betrayed the club. We couldn’t take someone outside the club’s word as proof without evidence,” Evie explained.

Winter had heard that her cousin Vincent had been arrested for conspiracy to commit the murder of an investor that had disappeared four years ago. The killer who Vincent had hired must have been a member of The Last Riders.

“So instead, you betrayed Beth. She’s not club, so she didn’t matter,” Killyama threw the explanation back in Evie’s face.

“She matters.” This time it was Razer who spoke.

“Not enough,” Crazy Bitch answered. “But I have a question I need answered.” Turning to Beth she asked, “The one with all the tats, he do anything to hurt you? Because my fingers are dying to see how far down those tats go.”

Winter didn’t have to guess which Last Rider she was referring to because the women’s eyes all turned toward the heavily tattooed biker standing next to Razer. Both men had dark brown hair, but the one with the tattoos was cut short and was leaner than the other bikers. It didn’t make him look less dangerous than the rest of the men, though. The woman must be crazy to be attracted to him. Even from where she was sitting, Winter could see that he would be a merciless opponent.

“No, he is the best of the bunch. Never saw him laying a hand on the women. Never drunk, didn’t see him at the parties. I have no problem with Shade.”

Winter noticed that The Last Riders, both male and female, all had mouths dropped open. One of the women began laughing with the other women from the club also joining in.

“Are you serious? He’s the wor—” The woman’s voice was cut off immediately.

“Shut-up,” Shade’s voice gave Winter a chill down her back.

“Damn, you had to go and blow it, telling her to shut-up. Don’t let him talk to you that way, bitch. Still, if you fuck as good as you look, I could always tape your mouth shut.” Winter didn’t doubt Crazy Bitch could.

“You aren’t going to be touching nothing of his, bitch. Get on the back of my bike; we are leaving,” a biker behind Ace yelled.

“I am not going anywhere with you, Joker. We’re going to Beth’s house after we get done here. Sex Piston is going to cut her hair.”

“No, she’s not.” Razer and Beth spoke at the same time. “I was going to make an appointment next week, remember?” Winter could understand Razer’s concern. The woman determined to cut Beth’s hair had hair that was teased and tortured until it stood several inches high.

“I’m going to save you the trip,” Sex Piston said, slamming her drink down on the table, sloshing what little was left over the side of the glass.

“She’s going home with me. You’re not touching her hair,” Razer warned the woman.

“I am not going home with you,” Beth argued back. This amazed Winter because she had never known the woman to ever give a sharp reply to anyone.

“Yes, you are,” Razer said between gritted teeth.

“No, I am not.”

“Beth is not going anywhere with you.” Crazy Bitch put her arm across the back of Beth’s chair while the rest of the biker women scooted their chairs closer to Beth.

“Back off,” Evie cautioned.

“Listen to the bitch,” Crazy Bitch taunted the men.

“I was talking to you,” Evie said, taking a step closer to the woman who was practically sitting on Beth’s lap.

“Evie.” The woman who had laughed at Beth’s description of Shade tried to pull Evie back.

“Who are you?” Sex Piston asked.

“Natasha.”

“What kind of name is that?”

“I haven’t really been given a nickname yet.”

“You the new member Viper fucked a couple of weeks ago and you let Beth think it was Razer?” Winter didn’t think it was possible to hurt so badly, humiliated that she had ever believed it possible that Loker could want her. Staring at the gorgeous club member, she realized why he had no trouble keeping his distance from her.

“Viper didn’t want anyone to know he was in town.” Winter’s hands clenched on the table. She was one of the people that weren’t supposed to know he was in town.

“Instead, it was easier to stick a knife in Beth’s back. I can think of several names for you, but first there is something I wanna know, been wondering ever since they walked in the door. He fuck as good as he looks?” She pointed to Loker.

Natasha laughed. “Better.”

All the time she had thought he was in Washington, he had been here in town having sex with the woman standing right in front of her. Winter stood, deathly afraid she was going to break down in front of everyone. She didn’t look towards Loker, aware he hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

“Damn.”

“It don’t matter how he fucks; none of you bitches are going to find out. Hell, he’s keeping his own clubhouse of pussy warm, he’s not getting mine. Now get on the fucking bikes!” Ace’s face turned a mottled red.

Winter winced, realizing that Loker had obviously been with more than one of the women who belonged to their club.

The women just sat at the table, ignoring the men as The Last Riders looked at the other motorcycle club in sympathy, which Winter was sure had to sting their pride.

“That’s it.” Ace moved forward to grab Sex Piston, who threw her drink glass at him. When he dodged it, he accidently shoved the bald-headed Last Rider, who shoved him back.

“Let’s get out of here,” Shelly said, jerking Winter toward the door. Both groups of bikers began a free-for-all with the women joining in with just as much violence.

“Which of these bitches is Bliss? I’m going to take care of her tonight, too,” Winter heard one of the women yell.

Shelly and Lexi were both grabbing her arms, trying to get out of the way of the escalating fight when a hard shove almost sent the women to the ground. A scream left Shelly as they found themselves held upright by Loker and the tattooed man.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Loker ordered.

Winter tore her arm free from his grasp. “We’re trying to.” Shelly and Lexi were pushed through the doorway first while Loker blocked the fists flying his way. A grunt escaped his lips when a vicious punch landed on his ribcage. Another biker slammed his friend in the face with a tray that the waitresses used to carry drinks.

Loker managed to push her outside before the rival bikers bombarded him. Winter’s face was ashen as she tried to remember where she had parked her car. Shakily reaching into her purse, she located her keys while Shelly and Lexi, scared stupid, were standing by her car, trying to get in while the doors were still locked, causing the shrill car alarm to fill the parking lot.

Quickly, Winter hit the alarm button on her remote then unlocked the doors. The women scrambled into the car, locking the doors behind them. Exasperated by this point, Winter was afraid she was going to lose what little control she had left. Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the doors again, opening the driver’s door before they could lock her out once more.

Winter’s shaking fingers put the key into the ignition as the three women watched Razer walk out of the Pink Slipper with Beth struggling on his shoulder.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Shelly screamed.

She turned the key in the ignition before realizing they were trapped in the parking spot by dozens of motorcycles.

They could do nothing except wait and watch until the police were finally able to break up the fight, arresting all of the men and The Last Riders’ women. Beth’s friends came outside to taunt everyone as they were loaded into the waiting squad cars while Loker was brought outside with his hands handcuffed behind his back and put in the back of the Sheriff’s car. Winter hoped they locked him in jail and threw away the key, but didn’t have high expectations that her prayers would be answered.

W
inter heard
the knock as she stepped out of the shower. Hastily pulling on a pair of pink sweats and pink t-shirt, she rushed to answer it only to find Loker in the doorway. He was not what she wanted after the revelation that she had been nothing more than a pawn used to get closer to Vincent. She hadn’t been home ten minutes before the small town rumor mill had been at work. After hanging up from the third call, she had known everything there was to know about the president of The Last Riders.

She tried not to appreciate his muscular frame dressed in jeans and a black shirt. The suits he had worn disguised how physically cut he was. Winter was embarrassed that she had ever believed a man like him would want her. In the two years she had known him, he had never come to her house dressed so casually. She figured now that the whole town knew his true identity, there must no longer be a need to pretend.

“Loker, why are you here?” Her tone was less than welcoming.

“I would like to come in and explain.”

Winter held the door firmly. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Loker reached out and pushed the door open, easily forcing her back from the door.

“We need to talk.” She was smart enough to realize there was no way to avoid the humiliating end to the farce of a relationship they’d had. Sighing, she closed the door. This time it was her turn to paste on an expressionless mask.

“I was just about to pour myself a cup of coffee, would you like one?”

“No, thanks.” He followed her down the hallway to her bright kitchen. The sunny room was warm and inviting with touches of her personality. She loved to cook, spending her free time in the room. She had even padded the chairs at the table because she preferred to do her paperwork there instead of in her office.

“Take a seat,” she offered, not turning around to see if he had taken her suggestion. Removing a cup from the cabinet, she poured herself a cup of coffee. Out of habit, she did not add sugar, even though she liked her coffee sweet. With the sweetener, it tended to put her in hyper drive. She already felt on edge, she didn’t need the added stimulation.

Unable to put it off any longer, she turned to face Loker to see that he was sitting at her table, grimacing as he adjusted himself carefully in the chair.

“I see you’re a little worse for wear today. I did notice they seemed especially intent on you and the one with all the tattoos,” Winter said unsympathetically.

“They were.”

“I don’t think they appreciated their women wanting to fuck you two.”

Loker froze at her use of the explicit word. Winter had never even said damn in front of him since they had met.

“Winter—” She broke in before he could continue.

“Of course, from what I heard, the women would have to wait in line. A long line.”

“Sit down and I will explain.” At one time she would have done just that—did whatever he told her, how he told her—those days were over.

“I don’t need your explanations. I am not stupid or even as blind as I obviously was. I can understand English and can figure out exactly what happened. I was a way to get close to Vincent, wasn’t I?”

“Yes. Ben Stiles, also. I didn’t know which of the two was responsible for my brother’s death.”

“Congratulations, mystery solved.” Winter could not prevent herself from tacking on, “I am sorry about your brother.”

“Thank you.”

“Now will you leave, Loker, or do you prefer Viper?”

“Whichever you prefer,” he said, trying to remain patient.

“Very well then, Viper, get out.”

“I am not leaving until I explain. I want to maintain our friendship, and whether you believe me or not, I care about you.”

“As friends?”

“Yes.” A knife to her gut would hurt less. It was time to level this playing field.

“I am afraid that’s not going to work for me. I don’t want or need a con artist for a friend.”

“You think because I’m in a motorcycle club that I am a criminal?”

“You stole something from me that I will never get back. Well, to be honest, two things; my time and trust.”

“I was very careful to maintain a platonic relationship with you. I never led you to believe that it was an exclusive relationship.”

“But you were aware my feelings were not the same.”

His silence said it all.

Winter sat the coffee cup down on the counter before she threw it at him. Viper’s dark eyes followed the movement. She had put on her shirt without taking the time to properly dry off and put on a bra, therefore the thin material clung damply to her breasts. Her hair was drying in a mass of curls that she always blow dried out and styled into a professional look, well aware she needed to maintain a certain image with her job. She had always been aware that she had to project an appearance of authority and professionalism or the students and parents wouldn’t respect her position. She only relaxed her guard in the privacy of her own home.

“Wow. You are a complete and utter ass. I thought we had a relationship; you knew I thought that. I waited patiently for you like a fool when you were out of town; while you were fucking your own personal stash of women in not one motorcycle club, but two.”

Other books

Past Tense by Catherine Aird
So Not Happening by Jenny B. Jones
Ruins of Gorlan by John Flanagan
Trip of the Tongue by Elizabeth Little
Olivia by Sturgeon, Donna
An Ordinary Me by Brooklyn Taylor
Fade Away and Radiate by Michele Lang
Steel and Sorrow by Joshua P. Simon