Her Biker Daddy

Chapter 1

Tate

T he light on my bike reflects off something shiny up ahead, and I slow down a hint, not taking a chance that whoever’s in the car with no lights on isn’t inebriated. The drunks use this road to get from the bar just outside of town that won’t cut them off as long as they have cash, making it a hundred times more dangerous than any interstate or major highway I’ve ever traveled. Three or more times a year, one of the guys in the club gets in a wreck—or at least moderately injured trying to avoid a massively serious one.

I realize the car is on the shoulder when I get closer, then let off the gas completely when the little sticker on the front bumper gets my attention. I know that car. Look to see if it’s the parking lot of the diner every morning when I go into town. When it is, I pull in to get some breakfast. Always sit in my little Everly’s section so I can be closer to her. Make sure to leave her a cash tip over what I put on my card so it stays as just hers, rather than force her to give part of it to the damn cooks—who can’t cook for shit—or the busboy that never does the work, makes her clean her own tables if she wants more customers. The creep doesn’t do it to her co-worker Lena. Then again, Lena sucks his cock to keep him from taking her tips as well as to do his job.

My sweet Everly doesn’t do that shit and while I know it shouldn’t, it makes me happy that she keeps bastards away from her. From what’s mine—even if it feels like there’s no fucking way she’ll ever really be mine.

I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do if some asshole comes in here and finally gets her attention. Probably run him through with my knife.

She’s too good for me, to get her mixed up in the seedy darkness that’s my world. But that doesn’t mean I don’t fantasize about every last dirty thing I want to do to her. Doesn’t mean I don’t follow her home whenever I get the chance, to make sure she’s safe. Doesn’t mean I didn’t make it perfectly clear to the bastard that moved in next door to her at the trailer park that if I ever saw him near her, watching her, or especially catching him jerking off to the sight of her through the thin curtains in her bedroom again, I would make him wish I’d simply killed him.

I’ll make damn sure nothing and no one ever harms her—me included, even if only by accident—the same way I have for the last year since I first saw her. I’d just gotten back to town after a run with the guys to move some merchandise. After the drop, I’d turned off the bluetooth in my helmet and just let the road take me. Ending up a good hour ahead of the others, hitting town as the sun was coming up, and my stomach didn’t want to wait the extra time to make it to the clubhouse for food.

I pulled into the diner’s parking lot, and almost face planted when I saw little Everly in the waitress uniform carrying a tray towards a table. My dick woke immediately, wanting to get between the thick thighs that were bare beneath the uniform’s skirt. It just got harder when she lowered the empty tray, showing off her chest and the buttons straining to keep it closed around her more than generous bust.

I’ve never had a type. Slept with a shit-ton of women when I was younger—before I met my brothers and became part of the club, nine, going on ten years ago—and there wasn’t ever a single type that kept me coming back. Not girls that were skinnier, bigger, or even the same size as Everly with her fucking delicious curves. None of them kept my attention long, some not even long enough to fuck them, but little Everly…I can’t stay away from her. And despite those fucking incredible curves, my girl is little in every other way.

I knew I was screwed when I caught a real glimpse of her face. Certain she was far too young for me to want, let alone to be working at the diner, but I had to learn just how long I’d have to wait for her. On one hand I was glad to learn it wasn’t an issue, but on the other, it’d have been easier to know I couldn’t have her because she was too young, than because she’s too damn good and sweet to pull into my world.

She’s the brightest light in the cesspool that’s this town and I’ll kill anyone that tries to dim it.

My world is complete darkness. It has been since I was young. Starting with my father killing my mother in a fit of rage when she ‘talked back to him’ all the way up through me taking out the previous president of our club almost three years ago now. That man was as bad as the cops in this town and instead of protecting it from them and their shit, he wanted to add onto it by switching from gun running as our main form of income, to running ‘women’.

The sick bastard didn’t really care how old they were. If they were female—or at least looked feminine as was the case of some of the boys he was showing off photos of as examples in our meeting—they were up for grabs as far as he said.

I don’t condone that shit. My closest friend growing up is in prison for killing the sicko that kidnapped his twelve-year-old little sister, assaulting her for nearly a year before someone finally caught up to them.

She was too broken to save. Took her own life six months later, and my friend showed up at the courthouse with a gun, killing the jackass that’d took a plea deal to avoid spending the majority of his life in jail.

If I’d known what he was planning, I’d have gone in with him, but he hadn’t said a word to anyone since she died. He barely speaks even in jail from what I heard the last time I was out that way to catch up. Shit, that was likely seven years ago, but I don’t anticipate him changing. He once said he was dead from the minute his sister was taken so it didn’t matter what happened to him anymore.

We were seventeen when that happened, and since then, I may have done some stupid and illegal shit, but I’ve never touched a woman that wasn’t legal and willing. If I find bastards that do…things don’t end well for them.

Not a chance in fucking hell was I going to let our old president turn us into the monsters like that. So, when we were sitting in church, and he told us of a ‘shipment’ we could get our hands on for nothing, saying how much we could earn just by taking them up to the city, I was done sitting back unless it was to enforce the club rules.

I took my knife, moving before anyone realized it, and stuck him in front of the others, showing him exactly what I thought of the idea. Only a handful of guys jumped up to try and stop me, but you learn a thing or two on the streets, including just where to stick a guy so he bleeds out fast.

He wasn’t the first life I’d taken, and he’s not the last. I’ve got more blood on my hands than I could ever wash off. Which is why I’ve kept them off Everly—no matter how much I don’t want to, how hard is it to not throw her onto the back of my bike and take her home with me.

She was just barely eighteen last year, nineteen now versus my thirty-nine. I was deep into criminal shit when she was just a baby, making money however I could, then spending most of it on stupid crap—and women. The ink on my body is the only thing I don’t regret getting. Well, that and my bike.

They brought me out this way, originally ending up in the city about an hour and a half away. I had an older tattoo that I wanted covered up but couldn’t find anyone willing to do it because of a nasty cut that ran down the inner part of my arm. I finally found a guy in the city that said he could do it without it looking like total shit and being nothing but a block of black ink the whole way through.

While I was getting the work done, I met up with my now Vice President, Meyer, who was coming in to get some work of his own done. We shot the shit, and I ended up in town, meeting the rest of the club, including the bastard Hinton who was the former president. His eyes lit up when he saw my size, the bulging biceps, and for once, my record back east was welcome.

I never served time in jail, but I was arrested more than once, almost convicted of theft and assault more than once. My last lawyer said it was only the ‘good guy’ stare from my light blue eyes that had the old ladies on the jury finding me not guilty of assaulting some scumbag frat boy who attempted to drug and assault a girl. I beat the ass black and blue, and he filed charges against me, but thankfully, the girl came in to testify that she’d been drugged and had already turned the douchebag down three times. Between that, the security video that shows I didn’t take the first swing, and my face, it had them finding me not guilty.

I doubt that would happen now if I was put on trial. I’m thirteen years older for one, ten times more tatted up, and my beard hides most of my face. I could shave it, and it might make me look a little softer, but I won’t, because I know—despite it being unlikely that anything will happen between us—my Everly likes the beard.

My eyes are glued to her car as I slow to a stop, not finding her in it, or behind it when I make a U-turn and pull in behind her. I park my bike, getting off to check the bit of a slope down to where the ditch is, breathing in immense relief that she’s not laying in it hurt. The back tire there is flat as shit, the jack just sitting next to the car, and the trunk is just barley open. My jaw tightens as I lift it, seeing the spare tire and tire iron both dug out as well, and my gut tells me something here is seriously not right.

I look all around us, knowing I didn’t miss her on the road back towards her place. Anyone walking out here would be doing it on the pavement, not on the grassy edge, and I’d sure as shit have recognized her gorgeous red hair.

I move up towards the front of the car, letting out a curse when I see her purse and cell phone on the seat. There’s no way Everly would leave that behind. She always tucks her cash into her purse when she leaves for the day. She wouldn’t begin to just leave it in the car and walk away, which means something happened to her.

She’s not next to the car, which means someone else either picked her up or took her from here. If it were an ambulance, they’d have taken her purse with them, not left it behind.

The door is unlocked as well, and the car starts dinging when I open it, showing the keys are still in the ignition. I grab them out, then gather Everly’s purse and phone, moving quickly back to my bike. I stow them before jumping on and roaring down the street, heading back towards town to find my girl.

A little over two miles later, I see the dark outline of a car pulled off into an unused driveway. The owners of the place abandoned it about ten years ago and no one uses it. At least not for legal purposes.

There’s no hiding the roar of the bike, so I don’t even try. Instead, I kick it higher, flying up the street as the moonlight reflects off the lights on top of the cop car. No fucking way am I not checking this out. If the cops were just sitting out here waiting to give tickets, they’d try to run me down in a flash. They’d love to put any of my guys in jail and if they got me…they’d throw a fucking parade.

Hell, they came looking for answers when Hinton and the others disappeared, but after the rest of my brothers backed me up against the few that’d tried to jump me for killing him, no one would dare utter a single word. Hinton and the handful of guys that were looking forward to getting rich off that shit are all scattered around the woods back beyond where our clubhouse is. No one goes out there, so no one’s coming across any shallow grave. Not that there’s likely any grave left after the animals went and scavenged the area. Which is precisely why we left the remains out where we did.

There’s not a single flicker of light coming from the car and I turn down the driveway, knowing whatever the fucking hell they’re doing, isn’t their job. I slam on the brakes, spraying gravel over the car, and I finally see a head pop up from the front of the cruiser. It’s outside it and I put down the kickstand, hopping off, and the sound of a scream comes to my ears. It’s muffled, but not by my helmet or the roar of my bike as I shut it off. No, that’s the muffling of someone’s hand against a mouth and I’ll kill the bastard if it’s on my Everly.

One of the pricks from the squad car comes my way but before he reaches me, I get a flash of long red curls as a scream breaks the into the quiet of the night. It’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull and I lay out the cop with a single punch. No way do they have their dash cam recording and the town’s too corrupt to begin to get them body cams, which means I can do whatever the hell I want to them, and no one is going to know it.

I quickly make my way towards the bastard that pulls Everly up, letting me see her tear-streaked face, the way the buttons on her top are popped open, the fabric that’s ripped, but what pisses me off the most is the red shaped handprint on her face. I’m twice her size, a good fourteen inches taller than her little five-four height, which is also at least half a foot taller than the idiot that touched what’s mine. Meaning I have a hell of a lot longer reach than he does, and I can easily grab his neck without him landing a punch to me.

In his attempt to fight back against me, his hold on Everly loosens, and I move quickly, gently guiding her behind me while moving towards the dead bastard. He squawks as I cut off his air, his hands trying to claw free of my grip but all he gets are my gloves. I hold on until his eyes are rolling backwards, then drop him against the hood of the car to get my girl.

“Everly,” I call out, turning to check on her as well as ensure the other asshole isn’t back up yet. I almost fall over her, surprised that she’s so close, and yet, I love that she’s right there, staying by me. That she knows I’ll keep her safe. “It’s okay, baby,” I assure her, seeing the fright still in her gorgeous green eyes. “They’ll never touch you again. Did they hurt more than your pretty little face?”

She lets out a little gasp, sucking in a deep breath but I’m not about to back off now. The only way to keep the rest of her light from dimming is to ensure it’s always protected, which means keeping her entirely safe and secure. That’s only going to happen with her next to me, destroying anything and anyone that threatens her, her peace.

“Baby, I need you to answer me. If they…raped you,” I force out, the mere thought of it enough to make me want to rip off their dicks and choke them with them.

“No…they said they were going to, but you got here just in time,” my girl answers me, and I pull her into my chest, holding the back of her head as to calm my own racing heart. “I don’t know how…” she starts to add, and I lift her face to mine, so I can see her eyes.

“I saw your car off on the side of the road. Saw the flat, then your stuff still inside it. I knew you hadn’t passed me on the road headed towards your place, knew it didn’t make sense to leave your bag behind, and I caught sight of the car pulled off here. I wasn’t about to let anyone hurt you if I could stop it. Your stuff is in my bag on the bike. Let me take care of these bastards. You be a good girl and stay with the bike.”

“Take care of them? How?” she asks, tensing when the one closer to the bike lets out a groan.

“Depends on how they respond. If they plan to get the fuck out of town or if they think they can touch what’s mine again without consequence,” I tell her, making her brows scrunch together not understanding. “You, Everly. You’re mine.”

“Do you mean that?” she asks, and I cup her face, giving her quick kiss to show just how much. “Tate…” she moans when I pull back, making my cock ache like mad, but I turn her behind me and catch the end of the baton the bastard who’s now up swung towards us. With the way it comes down, if I hadn’t moved Everly, it’d have hit her straight over the head, and that ends any possible outcome other than death for him now.

I land a kick to his gut, putting him down on his knees, and land a swift hit across his face with the baton, sending him back down to the ground. “Go to my bike, baby. I have some garbage that needs composted.”

“Should I call anyone?” she asks me, shooting a quick glance towards the other asshole that’s out cold at the front of the car still.

“Not for this. I take care of what’s mine and what’s threatening what’s mine myself. Stay next to my bike and if anyone comes by, hide behind it. If it’s not one of my guys, I want you to get to those trees there as fast as you can, after yelling as loud as you can for me,” I tell her, nodding towards the thick copse of trees that edge the property.

“I’ll make this as quick as I can,” I promise, giving her another quick kiss, before grabbing the handcuffs from the jerks, and cuff them. The one I choked out rouses, jerking backwards, trying to get away from me, but I pull his belt that I’d wrapped around his throat tight, keeping him from going anywhere.

“Pick up your shitty friend and move your ass,” I instruct, one hand on the end of the belt, the other holding his gun on him. The other guy’s is in the back of my jeans. Neither idiot is carrying a drop gun because they think it won’t matter if they kill someone with their department issued ones, whether they’re in the right or not, so it’s just their patrol weapons and I know a lot of guys that’ll pay top money for a cop’s service weapon.

Another jerk on the belt has him listening and I motion him forward, deeper into the tall grass that’s taken over the drive and on towards the barn. He struggles the entire way there with his friend’s heavier weight, and I give him a sinister chuckle when he drops the fucker onto the concrete ground inside the barn.

“Get on your fucking knees,” I order, grabbing the chain and toss it over one of the beams. The barn’s in better condition than the house, so I have no worries that it’ll come crashing down.

I loop the chain through his cuffed arms, tying the belt in some of the links, then pull upwards on it, straining both his arms and his neck, before landing a direct hit to his balls, making him scream.

“You’re fucking dead when we get out of here. You and that stupid fucking bitch! I was going to be gentle with her, but now…I’m going to make her bleed,” he claims, the dumbest possible thing he could ever say, because I was just going to kill him. Now…now, I’m going to make it hurt even more.

“The only ones bleeding tonight, will be you and your fucking partner. No one’s going to know what happened to you. Your car’s going to disappear, and it’ll take them months, maybe years to find you because you fuckers never have your GPS turned on, so you can’t be tracked.” His eyes finally show fear as I speak, but I’m just getting started now.

He struggles and calls out for his partner, while I look through the items that were left behind, a smirk settling on my lips when I find a cattle prod—two of them actually. One’s electric and appears to have been left on the charger, the indicator lights telling me the barn still has power somehow, which will only make this better. The other is a metal poker, and I take both of them with me along with the old dog chain—the kind that’s a choke chain with spikes for the Dobermans the family used to have. There’s a field machete on a hook that I take as well, letting it swing as I get back into the asshole’s view.

He gulps in a breath, stopping his painful struggles against the chain, as I near him, setting the other items aside, and I quickly use the machete to turn his clothes to rags. His pants are barely two strips underneath his legs, and I turn the blade onto his partner, not caring if I cut them, just making sure it’s not too deep if I do.

I toss the choker around the other’s neck, holding onto the end tightly, then set the electric cattle prod against the jerk’s balls and give him a zap. It brings him awake, pushing up and away from me, which just makes the choker dig into his throat.

“What the hell? You sick fuck,” he screams seeing the state of his and his partner’s clothes, and I give the choker another pull. It makes his words stop, just a pained cry in it’s place as his hands lift, trying to get the choker off him.

“The only ones around here that are sick are you and the rest of you useless, corrupt, pigs with badges. You think that it’s okay to try and rape a woman you found on the road with a flat tire? Outside your fucking patrol area,” I add because they always do shit like that. Write tickets claiming they chased us from city limits so it’s legal. “You think I’m going to just let you attempt to rape my woman and walk away unscathed? Only a fucking moron wouldn’t realize she’s at least under my protection when I’m in the diner every day that she works, and yet you still put your dirty, nasty hands on her!” I seethe, and the one with the choker on somehow thinks it’s a good idea to try and run. All that does is put him on his ass as he chokes, until I release the pressure a hint. I toss him his baton, watching him debate about trying to use it on me, but he stays still when I pull the trigger on the cattle prod, showing him just how powerful it is.

“What the fuck do you want? You can’t kill us with that thing,” the other one yells, and I just let out that dark chuckle again.

“I’ve got both your guns, a machete, and my favorite blade. I can kill you with any of them in an instant, but that’s too quick of a way out for the two of you. No, right now, your buddy there,” I say nodding towards the one in the choker, “is going to take that baton, and show you what it’s like to be raped.”

“No fucking way…not fucking happening,” they both shout, and I give the one standing a zap to the leg with the cattle prod.

“You’ll do it, or I’m using this right on your fucking balls, until you pass out again, then I’ll switch to the metal one and stab it right through your dick bringing you back awake,” I threaten, and when he doesn’t begin to move, I pull on the choker hard, making him stumble then lay the cattle prod right up against his scrotum. “Now motherfucker…”

His partner’s eyes are furious and shocked when he moves, and the screams that come when the idiot finally gets the baton in his ass soothes a bit of my fury for what they attempted to do to my girl, but not all of it. “Harder, the way you would if you were using it on those prostitutes that you beat up and leave for dead,” I warn him, and anytime he lets up, I give him a zap with the cattle prod, using it on the other bastard whenever he’s screaming loudest already, not letting up until there’s blood dripping from both of them.

I jerk even harder on the chain, making the spikes dig fully into his neck and move him aside, landing my boot hard and fast against the end of the baton that’s still shoved up the ass of bastard that put a bruise on my girl. His scream cuts off as he jerks forward, and I grab hold of the chain above him, giving it enough counter momentum to snap his neck. Blood drips from his mouth as he hangs there, hunched forward, and I turn towards the bastard still breathing.

“You thought you could bring that baton down onto my girl’s head. Let’s see how you like this then,” I chuckle, taking the metal prod and jam it down into the side of his head as I hold him still with my foot, while pulling even harder on the chain. It goes in just behind his eye and he stops moving as the chain rips into his neck. I don’t let up until I know he’s dead, then leave the two the way they are to get to my girl. Get her home—preferably with me—to take care of her entirely. Let the rest of the cops in this town try to come for me. I’ll give any of them the same treatment if they try to put their filthy hands on my girl, or take her away from me, any day.