Bumpy Ride (Category 5 Knights MC Romance Book 3) (2 page)

I
wanted
to stop at Biker's Heaven on my way south and hang out with the local chapter for a few days, but I changed my mind when I saw the weather forecast. Another cold front is coming. It will hit full blast on Christmas day. I want to get to Florida before the roads are covered with black ice.

After Chaser, the Prez for South Florida, made it official, it took me a month to answer Prince's proposal to join the Defiance Chapter. I told them I needed time to think about it, but the truth is, I decided to go the very second I was told about the creation of the chapter.

It's good to go back home.

The last part of the ride feels the longest, but I finally make it to the compound.

Last spring, the MC purchased an abandoned farm and all the available acres of land around. I'm impressed with what they've done with it in such a short time.

In addition to the clubhouse, there's a cluster of small buildings. The color of the painted wood makes it easy to tell the new construction from the older, but nothing sticks out like a sore thumb.

What was a barn at some point is now a workshop for bikes and next to it there's a playground complete with swings and monkey bars.

I guess the members of this new chapter must be around my age and starting families. That should be interesting.

There's not a kid in sight, though.

When I first joined, kids were only allowed on the MC grounds when we had special family events. The rest of the time, there were way too many Sweet butts roaming around for any of the patched members to consider having their family around. It would have killed the permanent party mood.

Maybe this new style is best, especially to keep a low profile with the rest of the community. Yeah, family life is the best cover ever. Color me cynical, but I have no illusions. There's no way the activities of this club are 100 percent legit.

Prince's already told me they run meds in the country. They're being smart about it; they run prescription stuff that cannot be used for recreational purposes. I looked at the list of what they import, and I don't know who came up with it, but it's good.

They drive in meds most senior citizens need and sell them cheap. All that stuff can be purchased for a fraction of the price in Canada or South America.

I wonder what else they do that made them so excited about my joining them. I'll find out soon enough for sure.

At the sound of my arrival, a prospect comes out from the clubhouse. He greets me and shows me where to park my ride.

"Wanna see your crib first or join the others in the main room?" he asks.

"Crib first," I tell him and he guides me to one of the older structures.

"You scored Piston's place," he tells me leading me into a very large bedroom.

"Why is that?" I ask, opening a door to a decent size bathroom. There's a tiny sink, a toilet, and a shower large enough to accommodate three people at the same time. It's not luxurious, but much better than what I expected.

"His old lady came equipped with a kid so, you know, they needed a larger place." He shrugs and turns to leave. "Whenever you're ready, we're all in the main room of the clubhouse."

"Thanks, I'll be there in a bit."

He steps out, and as he closes the door behind him, I realize I didn't even ask for a name.

I throw my saddle bags by the side of the bed and decide to unpack later. There's not much to put away. I'm light on clothes since the bulk of my luggage is my emergency kit. I can't be bothered to unpack now; I'm famished.

While washing my hands, I look at myself in the mirror and consider shaving. Nah, I’ll do it when I’ll start working. I look like death warmed over. I spent the past six months working like a madman without showing my face to the sun. I badly need some rest. Sleep is what this doctor prescribes.

There's a key on my door, but I ignore it and walk out without bothering to lock it. I can't think of anywhere safer for my stuff. I retrace my steps to the clubhouse.

The first floor of the reconverted farmhouse boasts two banquet-size tables complete with benches. I count twenty brothers settled around the largest table with an assortments of chicks who all look yummy enough to be Sweet butts, but could just as well be old ladies. Half a dozen kids sit at the other table, under the supervision of another handful of girls.

No property patch on any of the woman. I'm not certain how much I like this new organization. How the fuck does one tell who's who?

Prince sees me and waves from the other side of the room. As I come closer, his powerful voice carries over everyone else’s and breaks the chatter. "Guys, meet Doc!" A chorus of voices answers. I catch a few names in the ruckus.

There's Chaser at the end of the table. On his left, a sexy brunette and on his right, his VP, Piston's holding a blond bombshell on his lap. They both nod.

Across from Prince, there's Dragon. The name will be easy to remember. The man has an impressive Chinese style tattoo. A colorful beast is etched on his arm. Next to him, there's a sort of giant called Peanut. I wonder if it's the size of his nuts or the size of his brains that earned him that name.

He smiles in earnest shaking his head up and down like a toy. I'm tempted to think he is what my grandma calls a pure-heart. It was her southern polite way to designate someone who's not all there.

"Raven, give Doc your seat and get your ass to the other table," another guy barks.

A young girl stands. "Yes, sir," she grumbles, and though she obeys, it's clear she's not happy to be relegated to the kid's table.

I look at her and wonder if she's jail bait. If she's not, she's barely passed eighteen. She's emaciated and about as pale as I am. No one should be that pale in Florida. Despite the dark make up she hides behind, her face is sort of pretty.

The conversations restart as I take her seat. Before she moves away, I catch her arm and say, "Thank you."

She shrugs and looks at my hand on her arms as if it were a venomous spider. I let her go and she mumbles, "Thanks for nothing."

I'm now sitting next to Peanut who's probably not as dim witted as I imagine cause he reads the question in my eyes and explains, "Raven is Thor's daughter." With a movement of his chin, he designates the man who asked her to move to the other table.

"Thanks," I say and he smiles again.

"So, Doc," he asks, "is it true you're a real doc?"

As I nod, about to tell him more, he changes the subject. "Do you like fireworks, Doc? 'Cause on New Year's Eve there's a big fireworks show on the beach at Point Lookout and we're all going. I love fireworks, don't you?"

I don't need to answer him. He's happy rambling on about all the fireworks he's seen, and of course, his favorite was in Orlando ...

Prince rolls his eyes and sighs as he passes me a plate with turkey and sweet potato fries. Some of the brothers look exasperated by Peanut's endless flow, but yet no one tries to make him shut up. They seem to have made their peace with the fact he's the mandatory simple cousin, the one special relative without which no family is complete.

Somehow it gives the dinner a homey feeling.

That sort of brotherhood is why I joined the MC to begin with. I needed a shelter and they provided one.

The Category 5 Knights are my family.

It's good to be home.

F
rom my office
at the Central Hotel, I overlook A1A. I go through the motions while glancing out the window every time I hear the distinctive sound of a Harley engine. There's a lot of those today. Everyone is riding into town for the fireworks.

"What's so interesting outside?" my boss asks, catching me looking out the window again.

"The crowd you've drawn," I answer sweetly. "I'm really impressed by how well this special event is organized. I mean it's the only thing everyone has been talking about all week."

The little man literally puffs up with pride. He's the second-in-command of the place and should be overseeing the day to day operations. He doesn't. Instead leaves most of it to my sole discretion.

Daily routine is boring for him. He doesn't want to take care of business, yet he can't be bothered to look past the set of rules he'd given me on the day I started. Anytime I suggest revisiting them, his eyes glaze over.

Rumor has it the only thing he cares about is organizing large events. I heard the 4th of July party he put together this summer was wild, and he always manages to find something to outshine the previous event.

He comes and stands next to me by the window. "I guess I'd better go double check that everything is ready," he says.

"Great idea," I concur. Anything to get him out of my hair. Everest and the rest of the gang are picking me up in a bit. I need to finish sorting the billing mess on my desk.

The restaurant's manager was just let go after the top brass figured out he was keeping a separate set of books, hence depriving the hotel of its cut on the profits.

Just as I'm about to return to my desk, I return to the window. Yes, that was an Harley engine roar. The Knights ride in. There's about twenty, and I scan their bikes looking for Doc's ride. My heart skips a bit as I recognize him in the pack.

My spirit soars as I imagine our reunion. I've played this scene about a thousand times in my mind. He sees me, smiles and opens his arms. I run to him and ...

Fuck, fuck, fuck! There's a girl behind him.

Okay, Bunny, let's not get carried away. Deep breath. Just because she's riding with him doesn’t mean she's with him. I force myself to take another deep breath. Right, everyone's coming to see the fireworks and there’s nothing more natural than to give a ride to some of the girls of the community.

Even if she's a Sweet-butt.

Right. I need to convince myself it doesn't mean a thing.

I watch the girl get down from the bike. She's tall, almost as tall as he is. She's young, thin, too, and when she removes her helmet, magnificent jet black hair cascades around her face. I hate her instantly, and when I see the way she adoringly looks up at Doc I want to claw her eyes out.

The skinny girl says something and Doc turns around. He pauses for a second and laughs. He throws his head back as if what she's just said is the funniest thing ever. She blushes like a teenager. Her smile grows huge, she's clearly delighted she's amused him.

He says something back and ruffles her hair. Good. That's a gesture a man has for a kid, not for a woman. She playfully punches his arm. Yep, they behave like siblings ... until he picks her up cave man style and then I wonder. I watch them walk away from my line of vision, him laughing and her pounding ineffectively against his back.

Ugly, jealousy tears my heart open, and for a moment I forget to breathe. Yet, somehow I find my way back to my desk and attempt to fight the green monster. I fail miserably. I look at the paperwork on my desk, but all I can see is him walking away, carrying her on his shoulder.

I take a deep breath. Again.

She
is
his, she must be.

Deep breath, and another.

I’m not upset; fine, not
that
upset.

I shouldn’t be upset.

Okay, I'm crying but it's the hormones.

Everyone knows pregnant women are hormonal.

Gosh, I need to concentrate. I must not think about what I just saw. For all I know, she could be his kid sister. Except he told me he was a single child. But she still could be a younger cousin. Right, he never said he didn't have cousins.

Out of sheer will, I manage to focus on my work for the remaining hour of my workday. The numbers on the sheet are a nice way to escape reality. Numbers are my friends, numbers are easy, they add up or they don't. Numbers don't cheat, numbers don't lie ... well not under close scrutiny.

When I'm done I run to the bathroom and wipe my face. The woman staring back at me in the mirror has puffy eyes and looks like she needs sleep. I close my eyes and the image of Doc's girl appears in my head. She's everything I'm not, tall, thin and elegant. She's like a young and delicate feline and I ... well, I feel like a whale washed ashore.

Before I come out with other unflattering images for myself, Birdy enters the ladies’ room.

"There you are," she says. "I was looking all over for you." Looking at my face she raises an inquisitive eyebrow. I shake my head.

"Give me a minute. I'm almost ready."

She follows me to my office to get my bag.

"Were you throwing up again?" she asks. "I thought that was supposed to stop after the first trimester."

I shrug in a noncommittal fashion. I'm happy she thinks my eyes were wet because I had been sick. I don’t feel like answering any questions.

After packing my bag, I lock my office door and force a smile on my face. As we walk by the huge lobby bar of the hotel, Birdy waves to the other bartenders. One of them was more than happy to swap shift with her. New Year's Eve tips are usually very good and unlike my sister, the girl has bills to pay.

As far as Birdy's concerned, her salary is pocket money. She's got room and board for free at Mom's house, so she can spend her money on herself.

Once I asked her if she was setting money aside and she looked at me as if I had two heads. She didn't answer, so I have no clue what her expression meant. Hopefully she knows it's good to have something for a rainy day, but somehow I doubt it. She'll live and learn ... or she'll ask our father. I wonder how he’s doing these days. One thing for sure, his new wife doesn’t seem to lack for anything.

Everest is waiting for us at the bottom of the hotel steps and he takes my arm to help me cross the street. I laugh, and even though I protest out of principle at his overprotecting me, I'm happy he's here.

We reach the beach and see hands rise and wave at us guiding us to a patch of sand that has been claimed by the Tornadoes. Coolers with drinks and ice litter the beach, and a mini stereo perched precariously on top of one blasts Blue Oyster…In our extended family hard rock still rules.

I sit next to Mimi and try to make myself comfortable while Everest gets us drinks. A bottle of water for Mimi and me. I look curiously at Mimi who usually drinks beer but do not comment.

I throw a look at her belly, but she's like me, a very curvy girl so it may be too early for anything to show if what I suspect is true.

Toussaint, her nephew and adopted son, comes to say hello and then rushes away to hang out with the younger crowd. Mimi sighs, "Ah, to be young again."

Just as I struggle finding a good position sitting up, Everest comes and sits behind me. He spreads his legs and pulls me up ordering me to use him as a back rest. I lean against him, thankful for the comfort he gives me.

"So what happened?" he whispers in my ears while Mimi looks away keeping an eye on her son.

"What do you mean?" My attempt to play dumb doesn't fly. I can't see Everest's face, but I hear him growl softly so I relent. "I saw him," I confess.

"And?"

"He's with another girl." I keep my answers short. No need to explain, I'm sure he understands, and furthermore, if I start talking about the way I feel, I'm going to cry... again.

Of course, I could always blame my tears on my
condition
. That's the perfect excuse, especially for me since I've always been moody. Yet, I'd rather focus on something else and enjoy the company of my friends. Tonight, when I'm alone in my bed, it will be time enough to sob miserably.

The baby kicks and I invite Everest to lay his hands flat on my belly to see what his future godchild is doing. He rests his palms and chuckles softly.

"It's the ocean. The kid hears the waves and want to go surfing."

I rest my head against his broad chest and sigh. I'm so grateful he's there for me. I hope one day I can repay him.