8. Basher
BASHER
Sitting on a cement block in the back lot of Ride ’em Hard, Basher sliced another piece of the apple he was eating and tossed it into his mouth.
The fruit was sweet and juicy, and quenched his thirst in the summertime heat. There was something about eating fresh fruit in the summertime that just hit him perfectly.
It was early afternoon, and the bar was still closed. Marcus had asked him to come in a few hours early to help out with a few things, some of which included crew business.
He cut off another slice and popped it into his mouth as he waited for Marcus and Caden to finish up whatever they were doing down in the basement.
There were certain things you didn’t ask about while being part of a motorcycle club or crew—partly because it wasn’t any of your business, and partly because if you ever got arrested, you didn’t have the information to trade.
Just as he was swallowing his last bite of apple, his heart rate spiked when he heard the familiar sound of his one true love.
Basher watched as his green-and-black sports bike turned the corner and sped into the lot.
His body was suddenly fueled by nitrous oxide, giving him that sudden boost to jump up from the concrete block he was sitting on and rush over to where his buddy was bringing his bike to a stop.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Basher gushed, ignoring his friend Nick and crouching down to give his bike a kiss on its base.
Her sleek, bright-green surface gleamed under the afternoon sun, reminding Basher just how beautiful his sports bike was.
God, he loved her.
Nick removed his helmet and chuckled.
“Not even a ‘Hey, Nick! Nice to see you!’ or a ‘Hey, Nick! Thanks for riding my bike across the country and for bringing my baby back to me.’”
Basher glanced up at his old friend.
“It’s hardly across the country. Eight hours at best. Plus, you were the one who got the pleasure of riding my special lady, even though she only belongs between one man’s legs.”
Nick hopped off the bike, just as another man came riding in behind him.
“Is that Jacob?” Basher asked, recognizing the half-naked woman tattooed on the man’s right arm as he pulled in.
“Yup, Bradly sent us to pick up his delivery while we dropped off your bike. And man, does she ride fucking smooth.”
Basher’s smile nearly swallowed his face. “Man, I can’t wait to take her for a spin. I’ve been missing her ever since I got thrown in the pen.”
He stood and gave Nick a welcoming hug. They slapped each other’s backs before turning to greet their other friend as well.
“Bash! Long time no see!” Jacob hollered as he hopped off his bike and walked over to greet his old buddy. “I heard they let your scrawny ass out of prison.”
Considering Basher was double the size of Jacob, there was nothing scrawny about him.
“They said they were freeing up my bed, making room for you and your new roommate. I hear he likes to cuddle,” Basher joked, wrapping his arm around his old friend and giving him a brief hug as well.
“I don’t remember you being this chatty,” Jacob said as he pulled away. “You been drinking that funny stuff they go around calling alcohol out here?”
“I’m just happy I finally got my baby back, is all.”
“I think that funny stuff you’re talking about is called premium beer by the rest of the country. We don’t go around serving piss-water and calling it beer like they do out in those fancy Vegas biker bars,” a deep, growly voice answered.
They all looked up to see Marcus and Caden walking out the back door.
“Oh, hey, boss,” Basher greeted, taking a step back so Marcus could feast his eyes on his baby.
Marcus whistled. “Now that is one smoking-hot ride. How fast can she get?”
“About one hundred and ninety miles per hour,” Basher answered proudly.
“Damn, she’s fast,” Marcus added, stepping up to the bike and running his hand over her surface.
Basher felt like a proud father showing off his child to anyone willing to look.
He couldn’t quite explain it. Something about being out on the open road with his baby made him feel truly alive—free in a way nothing else ever could.
In those moments, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, and nothing else mattered.
Marcus turned to Nick and Jacob. “You boys look tired. How about you guys head inside and have a little food and drinks on the house, while Basher, Caden, and I take our bikes out for a spin. We can finish up the deal when we get back.”
Nick and Jacob happily agreed. They both followed Caden inside while Marcus walked over to his bike.
“Let’s see what your baby is made of,” Marcus shouted as Basher hopped on his bike and brought his bad girl to life.
Feeling the hum between his legs brought back so many memories. His first ride on a motorcycle, the first time he took his baby cross-country. Hell, even the first time he got head while parked in the desert.
That night had been a surprise. He and his crew were participating in a charity ride across Nevada when he stopped at a café to grab a quick coffee. It was late at night, and all the other guys from the Death Cruisers had headed back to their rooms for some fun between the sheets.
As he sipped his coffee in a booth at the back of the shop, he noticed one of the other civilian riders participating in the charity ride. The man appeared to be in his late forties, with messy black hair and a chiseled jaw sharp enough to cut glass.
All it took was a quick glance of the eyes, a subtle rub of his crotch, and then they were five miles down a deserted road, Basher with his jeans around his ankles and the dude with his mouth wrapped around his cock.
Getting a blow job under the soft glow of the moon, with his bare ass pressed against the side of his bike, was an experience he knew he would never forget.
Now, here he was, ripping down the road with Marcus, the leader of the Shadow Vipers, and Caden following at his back.
He zipped and zagged, floored his engine, and made dangerous turns even the most experienced riders should never attempt.
It was like coming home to a long-lost love. He and his bike, together once again. How had he survived all those years without the steady hum of his girl between his legs?
“She rides like a dream,” Marcus said, pulling up to where Basher had stopped to give his baby a rest.
“Yeah, she feels so good to be riding once again. Didn’t realize how much I missed having my bike and hitting the open road.”
“They took good care of her while you were gone,” Caden said, nodding toward Basher’s bike.
“Yeah, the guys are the best. You learn who your real friends are when you head off to prison,” Basher said as he looked off into the distance.
“Ain’t that the truth. Years ago, I did a stint myself. These motherfuckers came to visit me every week and even made sure that all my shit was taken care of until I was released,” Caden noted, nodding toward Marcus.
“Well, you did go to jail protecting Ace and me,” Marcus joked. “That was the least we could do.”
Basher got the sense that even if Caden hadn’t gone to jail to protect Marcus and Ace, he still would have done everything he could to remind Caden he was still part of their family and that his absence was truly missed.
That was family.
That was the love he always hoped for.
“So, was that a Death Cruiser’s MC patch I saw one of those guys hiding under his vest?” Caden asked, glancing up at Basher curiously.
“Yeah. Basher’s a member of the Death Cruiser’s MC. He’s hiding out with us until some shit gets settled back in Vegas. Be discreet with what you tell the guys. The fewer people that know Basher is here, the safer it is for him,” Marcus explained.
Once they got back to the bar, they all spent the next few hours drinking and catching up. The guys were going to spend the night at Basher’s before heading out first thing in the morning.
Listening to the stories about the guys back home made Basher feel homesick. They weren’t as close as perhaps Marcus and his crew, but the Death Cruisers were the closest thing to family Basher had, and even though he’d never admit it to anyone, he kind of missed having them around.
When morning came, he helped Marcus load the delivery into the SUV he had been driving since his release from prison.
Six cases of illegal contraband, including brass knuckles, switchblades, high-capacity magazines, and even grenades and a rocket launcher. Apparently, Bradly had a buyer interested in the launcher, and Marcus, of course, knew a guy who was selling.
This partnership between the New Mexico Shadow Vipers and the Las Vegas Death Cruisers was proving to be a lucrative one, bringing in a shit ton of money.