Biker's Claim: A Bad Boy Romance (Demons MC) (Contains bonus book Cocked!) (17 page)

I
could barely believe
how fast that had happened. One second I was tripping like an embarrassing mess, and the next his hands were down my panties. And of course I was already soaking wet. I had been ever since he took me to that warehouse and I kept thinking about how alone we were.

Because I couldn’t help myself, not around Clutch. Seeing a part of his childhood made me respect him even more. Sure, he was a crude biker asshole, but he’d had a rough childhood, a lot like mine. We were so alike that it was surprising, and maybe that explained why I was so intensely drawn toward him.

My head was still buzzing with the post-orgasm glow as we rode back through Austin, heading toward the clubhouse. We pulled up outside, and I was surprised again at how many unfamiliar bikes were parked outside.

“Rebels are here again,” Clutch warned.

“I know.”

“Still want to stay?”

“It’s our clubhouse,” I said. “I’m not turning back.”

He grinned at me. “That’s what I like about you.” He walked inside the door and I followed him.

As expected, there were a bunch of Rebels sitting around. Some of them were drinking, though it was pretty early still. Noble and Ford were sitting at a table, so we headed over there to join them.

But we barely made it ten steps before one of the Rebels stood up. He was a pretty big man with a nasty scar across his neck. He looked at Clutch and wordlessly spit on the ground.

The men around him laughed. Clutch stopped walking and stared at the man.

“Got something to say?” Clutch called out.

“Clutch,” I said softly, “leave it.”

He shrugged me off, pushing me gently toward Ford and Noble. I walked over toward them, worried.

“I ain’t got nothin’ to say you ain’t already heard,” the big Rebel said.

“That’s what I thought.” Clutch turned.

“Fuckin’ murderer, that’s right, turn your back to me.”

Clutch whirled around. “Come on over here. You seem so fucking safe surrounded by your boys, you fucking pussy.”

The man growled and charged at Clutch.

“Shit,” I said, backing off. Noble and Ford were on their feet.

The Rebel slammed into Clutch, knocking him back but not over. Clutch brought a knee up and hammered the man in the face, then dropped an elbow into the back of his head, slamming them both down to the ground. Clutch landed on top of the man, who was laying facedown, and kneed him again in the head.

The guy didn’t move as Clutch climbed to his feet.

The Rebels were all standing, and there was a terrifying moment of stillness. It felt utterly calm in that moment, with Clutch staring at the Rebels, grinning hugely, the Rebels staring back. I could feel the Demons men inching toward Clutch, ready to get his back.

The Rebels outnumbered the Demons, but I wasn’t sure they cared. No words were spoken, and I didn’t think any had to be. I felt Ford gently pull my hand and push me out of the way toward the back wall.

And then all fucking hell broke loose.

Someone threw a bottle. That started the whole thing. The bottle flew out at Clutch, smacking him in the head. Clutch stumble back, blood running down his face.

And then the Demons, Ford and Noble included, went at the Rebels.

It was an all-out brawl. I couldn’t see what was happening in the chaos, but men were bashing at men with their fists, screaming in rage, insults flying. I caught sight of Clutch, blood pouring from a wound on his head, bashing a Rebel’s face against a wall.

Meanwhile, Ford was fighting three Rebels. He knocked down one with a heavy punch and had to wrestle another off him before smashing his fist into the third’s face. They kept coming at him, and even the Demons pledges got involved. I watched TomTom grab a club from behind the bar and dive into the fray, smashing Rebel skulls and hollering like a madman.

Noble held his own, too. I watched Noble grab a chair and smash it across the back of a man fighting with Ford. He turned as two more Rebels came at him and grabbed a leg from that chair to use as a club. Noble fought the guys back, bashing at them with the chair leg.

It was complete chaos, screams and shouts, fighting and blood. I watch Clutch toss a man through the air, sending him crashing into the bar, bottles flying everywhere. Two men jumped on Clutch, but with a roar of anger, he sent the men spinning, kicking skulls and smashing their faces.

I was both terrified and absolutely elated. The Demons were holding their own, despite being outnumbered. I knew I could get out of there, knew that I was in a lot of danger, but I couldn’t move.

And then an explosion ripped through the clubhouse.

At least I thought it was an explosion. The sound was powerful and incredibly loud. I cringed down, putting my hands over my ears as I looked around for the source.

It was my dad. Larkin was standing on a table with a shotgun. He fired it again, and every man in the room stopped fighting, staring up at him.

Larkin leveled the gun at the crowd.

“Having fucking fun?” he yelled.

Nobody answered.

“While you cunts are busy beating each other to fucking death, you’re ruining my fucking bar. That pisses me the fuck off, so here’s what we’re doing.”

He hopped off the table, gun still pointed.

“Rebels, get the fuck out. If you hesitate, I will murder you.” He cocked the shotgun. “Move.”

The Rebels grumbled but slowly filed out the door. I watched with astonishment as the men slowly left, Larkin holding his shotgun steady, a mad look in his eyes.

Once the Rebels were gone, Larkin turned to the Demons. Clutch was bleeding and the others looked beaten up, but nobody was down or seriously injured.

“Clutch,” Larkin said, “take Janine home and fucking deal with that wound. As for the rest of you, clean up this fucking mess and prepare to eat some goddamn shit, because I am fucking unhappy about this.” He turned and left.

I ran over to the bar, grabbed a clean rag, and then ran over to Clutch. I pressed it to his head, mopping up the blood. “Clutch,” I said, “are you okay?”

“Fine,” he grunted. “Just fucking fine. Better than those Rebel twats.”

“Come on,” I said, leading him toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“Hey, Clutch,” Noble called out as we were leaving. “Good shit man.”

Clutch grinned and gave him a thumbs up. Ford laughed.

“Whipped those pussy asses,” Ford said.

“Fuck yeah,” TomTom said, holding his club against his shoulder.

The boys all laughed triumphantly, and I couldn’t help but smile.

I followed Clutch back out. He held the rag against his head as he climbed onto the bike and kicked it to life.

He just nodded his head and I got on the back.

“Good job back there,” I said into his ear.

He turned back and grinned at me before pulling out into traffic.

M
y head hurt
like a fucking bitch.

That piece of shit Rebel nailed me with that bottle out of nowhere. Nothing I could have done about it. But that fight, that had been brewing for a while. We all felt it coming, knew we couldn’t avoid it. I was sure Larkin had let it go for a bit before breaking it up. He wanted us to work that shit out, beat each other senseless and get it out of our systems, but he didn’t want us to fucking murder each other.

Though at the time, I wanted to murder someone. I wanted to smash their skulls into tiny pieces and wipe my feet in their blood. Probably for the best that I didn’t actually kill anyone.

I kicked my feet up on the couch, leaning back. Janine came back from the kitchen with a cold compress and a fresh bandage.

“Look at you,” I said, smirking, “nursing me to health.”

“That’s a nasty cut. You might need stitches.”

“It’s fine.” I cringed as she pulled the bandage off and replaced it with the clean one.

“Here,” she said. I took the compress and placed it against the wound. “How’s that?”

“Fine,” I said. “Nice of you to worry.”

“Can’t have you dying on my couch.”

“I’m sure you’re more worried about the couch than you are about me.”

“Maybe,” she said, stroking the cushion. “It’s a nice couch.”

“Can’t blame you,” I said. “I’ve slept on this couch a lot. We’ve grown close.”

“Good. So don’t bleed on it.”

“Doing my best. Can’t control my blood.”

“Maybe you could have, you know, not picked a fight?”

I laughed at her. “That’s not in my nature.”

“Yeah. I know all about your nature.”

“And what’s that then?”

“You’re crude,” she said, standing. “You’re a biker. All you want to do is fight and fuck.”

“You don’t seem to mind the fucking much.”

She blushed and looked away. “Still, you didn’t need to do that.”

“I did,” I said. “I can’t have those people thinking I killed that Lavoy shithead. Plus, that fight had been a long time coming. It needed to happen.”

She shook her head. “That’s such a classic male thing to say. You needed to fight each other?”

“Sure.”

“Typical. Can’t think with your brains or your dicks, so you just beat the crap out of each other.”

“Pretty much.” I grinned at her. “Don’t pretend like your panties weren’t soaked watching me take down those cocksuckers.”

“Not even a little.”

“Please, you’re probably on your way to your bedroom right now to rub that little clit until you come. You’ll be thinking all about how strong I am.”

“Yeah, you look real strong,” she said, smiling, “lying there with a bandage on your head.”

“Still could throw you around like you’re nothing. Want to see?”

“Maybe another time.” She sat down on a chair and sighed, stretching. “What a weird day.”

She got quiet, and I stared at her. I wanted to say something, but I was worried about how she’d react. Still, she had a right to know, or at least she needed to be thinking about it.

“Listen, Janine,” I said. “You watched that shit, right?”

“No. I ignored that big brawl in front of me.”

“You’ve seen the way our clubs act around each other. The Rebels and the Demons, we’re oil and water. We don’t mix.”

“Maybe, but that’s what my marriage is supposed to fix.”

I shook my head. “Girl, that shit ain’t happening. And if it is, it’s not going to help.”

She didn’t answer at first. Then, finally, “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s the damn truth and you need to start thinking about it. The Rebels hate us, and we hate them. You marrying Jetter won’t solve that.”

“They respect him. They’ll come around.”

“They won’t.” I sat up. “Listen to me, Janine. You have to help yourself here.”

“No,” she said, that fiery temper flashing. “You listen to me. I’m not wasting my time on this.” She stood up.

“You could be, and you don’t even know it.”

“I’m not. It’s going to happen and the clubs are coming together. Larkin wants it, Jetter wants it, and I’m helping it happen.”

“They don’t always get it right,” I said.

“They did this time.”

I could see the anger in her, hear it in her voice. I wasn’t trying to piss the girl off, but she needed to be prepared for all this shit to fall apart.

“Sit back down,” I said. “We can talk.”

“Forget it. I’m not interested in hearing it. I’m marrying that creepy asshole and making sure the Rebels get patched over, and that’s the fucking end of it.”

Before I could answer, she stormed out of the room. I heard her bedroom door slam shut.

The girl was a fucking spitfire, I knew that much, but I hadn’t guessed how pissed off that would make her. I wasn’t trying to push her too far, but I wanted her to realize that this might all come apart.

Still, I understood where she was coming from. She’d come far and seen a few things, shit she probably never wanted to see, death and violence. She probably felt like if it fell apart now, then she just wasted all her time on this, saw a bunch of shit that fucked her up for no good reason.

Maybe she was blind to the good that already came of all this blood and terror. I wasn’t sure I could make her see it, even if I wanted to.

I leaned back farther into the couch. My head was ringing with pain, and I didn’t have the energy to chase the girl down and make her see reason. I had to get my strength back anyway, in case someone tried some more shit.

I let her stew back in her bedroom. At least I had the couch, the wonderful couch that would never storm out on me.