Chapter 5
Franky
“How long Jack? How long are you going to keep my bike hostage?” I bellowed as I flung open the door to his den where he writes.
“Oh? Are you talking about that two wheel French Tickler you call a bike? The bike you ran off and left the ignition key in?” Jack chuckled. “That was very careless of you considering that you act like that oversized dildo is important to you.” he added.
“You-You-You…how dare you talk to me that way. This is about what I said about your bike…isn’t it?
” I shouted. “Might be…I’d bet that an apology might free the hostage,” Jack stated.
“But I’m not in the mood for that tonight.
You’ll have to bring that up in a friendly way tomorrow. Now get out of my room.”
I am livid as I leave Jack’s den slamming the door behind me. “That will be 24 hours more,” Jack yelled through the door.
Fuck this shit. I will go to a Home Depot tomorrow and buy some bolt cutters to take care of that lock. I’m not his wife. I don’t have to put up with his shit.
Jack
I chuckle to myself as I hear her talking to herself in rage. Those are military grade locks that can’t be cut by bolt cutters. On top of that, she has not noticed that I padlocked the garage door in front of her VW. She will have no way to go to Home Depot or anywhere else.
Leaving my den to go up to my master bedroom, I pass Franky’s downstairs bedroom that is her own bedroom suite with huge bathroom. I hear that she is talking to someone on her cell phone.
“That son of a bitch has my Harley locked in his garage with a military grade padlock…Naw, no reason for you guys to ride all the way up here for his puny ass.”
“This is something I will resolve myself. I saw how he looked at me when I came into the mansion. A little pussy and he’ll be eating out of my hand just like all of you guys.
Jack
Puny Hugh? Not only am I 6 foot 4 and 225 pounds of pure muscle, I have been riding big bikes since I was 16 and I have been studying Tai Chi since I was 5. I have multiple black belts to my name.
I am 30 years old. I am a highly successful author. I have a half a million dollars in my checking account and almost 4 million in my savings collecting mega interest.
If her biker boys want to take a trip up, I’ll be happy to fill their dance cards. I am well trained to handle multiple attackers. I’ve been practicing this shit for 25 years.
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It was 9am Tuesday when Franky came bolting into the garage. I guess the roar of firing up my Virago alerted her to the fact that I am in the garage. I have the garage door open and am pointed to ride out when she rushes into the garage.
As soon as her eyes land on me, I toss her the keys to her bike. “I could have left the garage wide open so your bike could be stollen. A bike like this would fetch a pretty penny in the black market,” I called to her.
Before she could answer, I coasted out of the garage. As soon as I was clear of the garage, I pulled a screeching wheely. Not only was I burning rubber, my front wheel was a good five feet off the pavement. I held it like that till I was a hundred feet from the road.
I slowed and made sure the road was clear then did a power slide out onto the road and raced away from the mansion. Leaving Franky in the garage with her mouth hanging open.
Franky
Holy shit. That fucker can really handle a bike.
I could not duplicate what he just did on my heavy Harley.
Yet he handled that 1100CC machine like it was a dirt bike.
I doubt that my buddies back in Ogden could do that with their Harley’s either.
There is rubber all the way to the street and he held the front wheel up longer than I ever seen the fellas ever do.
As I close the garage door, I feel a new respect for mom’s boytoy. And who was I kidding calling him puny? This man is an Adonis come to life. A real no shit stud. Most of my biker buddies are professional married men with very little aggression other than false bravado.