Chapter 2
“Fuck you, asshole!” I hear the guy holler out of his driver’s window, his hand pounding on the horn angrily as I blaze past him.
I’m not really sure what his problem is, I was nowhere near him when I overtook him and yet the hand gestures I’m seeing in my rear-view mirrors suggests otherwise.
Figuring I don’t give enough of a fuck, I leave him and his shit-coloured car in the dust as I tear down the road at a speed that’s definitely not legal.
My Harley Davidson Softail growls beneath me as I lean to my left, following the curve of the road as it winds around the bend, my foot just inches above the tarmac as I make my way back towards Stillwater Falls.
There’s no better feeling than this.
The cool chill of the wind whipping up my hair, the warmth of the sun prickling my skin as I blast down the wide open road, straddling the line between life and death.
The danger’s not lost on me, how one split second could be the difference between living and dying, but that’s what makes it exciting.
I don’t fear death itself, I fear dying having never lived, and riding makes me feel alive. The adrenaline coursing through my veins is exhilarating, the dopamine hit is addictive and I’m yet to find anything to compare it to, not even sex. That comes in a close second.
About a mile up the highway, I pull over onto the side of the road, needing to relieve the ache in my leg, my bike purring beneath me as the engine idles.
It’s rare I walk away from a fight with more than a few surface cuts and bruises, I don’t usually allow my opponents the opportunity to do any proper damage, but today was not that day.
The bastard clocked my left thigh with his foot while I was momentarily knocked off balance and while I don’t think it’s anything a couple beers and an aspirin won’t fix, it hurts like a bitch. It’s even making riding uncomfortable.
I hate that.
But aside from the kick to my thigh, I put him on the floor before he could get in another hit or kick and a round later, he tapped out and I was walking away with a fuck-ton of money.
My phone buzzes against my ribs and I reach inside my kutte, my fingers trailing over the envelope stuffed with cash as I pull out my phone from my inside pocket.
I huff out a laugh. I can almost hear Myles’ voice reading the messages aloud, all intense and grumbly. He’s my club’s President, and he’s one of the best fucking guys I know. I’d die for him if needed.
Amongst the texts from Myles, I notice a message from Jett, the club’s VP.
I’m about to type out a reply when another comes through from Myles.
I slide my phone back into my jacket pocket and rev the engine a few times before I ease back onto the road.
This is my favourite time to ride. The sun hasn’t long gone down. The road is long and wide, not a single person except for me around for miles. The cloudless azure sky disappearing as the setting sun paints the sky in rich hues of purples and oranges.
It’s gorgeous. Peaceful.
When I’m not inking someone’s skin, this is where I’m most content.
Just me and my bike, the open road with a beautiful fucking view.
Here, everything in my head goes silent.
It’s completely dark as I rumble through the quiet streets of Stillwater Falls. They’re completely deserted. I imagine everyone is at the town hall for the election, which I’m late for.
I turn the corner onto Main Street, the strip that runs through the centre of town, slowing to a crawl as I approach the red stop light up ahead. I plant my foot on the ground to stabilize the bike as I idle, the heavy chug of the engine filling my ears, the vibrations rippling through me.
Something moves up ahead and I catch sight of a woman walking down the sidewalk towards me.
A wave of rich dark hair whipping around her head in the cool breeze.
I can’t see her face because it’s buried in her phone as her thumbs tap away quickly.
She’s so engrossed in it she hasn’t noticed I’m there.
My intrusive thoughts win as I rev the engine, the thunderous sound crackling through the empty street. Her phone flies up in the air in front of her, but by some miracle she manages to catch it.
She stops dead on the sidewalk, her gaze zoning in on me.
I lean back, smirking beneath the black bandana that covers the lower half of my face as my eyes rake over her.
Her face is shielded by the shadows cast down from the dim street lamps above, so I can’t see it clearly. But from what I can see, she’s fucking stunning.
Dark hair frames her heart-shaped face, her nose is slender and her jawline soft.
My eyes are drawn to her full plump fuckable lips that would look incredible wrapped around my cock.
She’s young, maybe early to mid-twenties, no older than that.
She’s slim but with curves in all the places I like, covered in a pair of skinny jeans and a plain white shirt with a denim jacket thrown over the top.
My dick immediately approves. Rising in the presence of a beautiful woman—he is a gentleman, after all.
I’ve lived in this town for five years. Granted, I didn’t grow up here like ninety-five percent of the town’s population, but I know nearly every single face. It’s easy in a town this size. But I don’t know hers.
When you see the same people day in day out, they tend to all blend into one pretty quickly. Not much captures my attention and not a lot holds it.
But she does.
My skin prickles as her gaze sweeps over me and my bike, taking in every detail.
“If you’re looking for a ride, darlin’, I can give you one but it sure as fuck won’t be on my bike,” I call over, my voice muffled slightly by my face covering.
Nobody rides my bike but me. Ever.
Many women have tried to get me to break my rule, and not a single one has succeeded.
Her eyes dart up to mine, widening when she realises I caught her checking me out, but there’s an unmistakable pull of a smile over her lips. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Does that line usually work on women?”
I shrug. “Never used it before. Did it work on you?”
“In your dreams,” she shoots back.
My grin widens beneath my bandana.
I feel my phone vibrate in my jacket pocket and I groan.
If I had more time and I wasn’t in danger of having my balls ripped clean from my body, I’d park my bike up and spend the entire night buried inside her tight little body, fucking her in every way possible and making her scream like no one else ever has.
But luck isn’t on my side tonight, and I’d like to keep my balls right where they are for now.
“I’ll see you around,” I reply.
The light above me turns green and after shooting her a wink, I rev the engine a couple more times before I blast off down the road, leaving her staring after my taillights.
The town hall is teeming with people, not a single seat free or an empty space along the walls of the building. The sound of chatter fills the hall. There’s a good few hundred people here, all eager to see who the next sheriff of will be.
I weave my way through the throng of bodies towards the rest of my crew, and as if feeling my presence, Myles turns to me, his face like thunder. “Chill? You told me to chill?”
Jett sniggers beside him like the shit-stirring man child he is. “You’re lucky there’s a room full of witnesses, bro, because you’d be parting ways with your nut sack right now if there wasn’t.”
I flip him the finger before turning my attention to Myles. “You gotta relax, dude. Have I ever let you down?”
“Where the hell were you?” he grumbles.
“Had a few errands to run,” I lie.
He doesn’t need to know I was fighting. Sure, I fight almost every Sunday at The Ape Hanger, the bar Jett owns, but I never fight for money.
He studies me for a beat, like he doesn’t quite believe me, but he lets it slide.
I’m not ashamed to say I love this man and I’d follow him to the ends of the earth if he needed me to.
Myles knows he can count on me, it’s one of the reasons he made me his Sergeant-at-Arms a few months ago after my predecessor stabbed us all in the back and shacked up with the enemy.
Venom’s betrayal came as a shock to all of us, and to find out he was secretly working for our rival crew, The Cobras?
There was no coming back from that. Lucky for him, he got what was coming to him.
After the shit he pulled, he deserved a slow and painful end.
Myles leans towards me. “Mayor Watson and Barry Collins look pretty cosy, don’t you think?”
My fists clench, my blood pressure spiking when my eyes land on Mayor Watson, a man I’ve had the displeasure of knowing since I was a teenager, long before he became the mayor of Stillwater.
He’s a man who wields far too much power and influence for his own good, and a man I wholeheartedly despise.
He’s always insisted on playing everything straight, doing everything by the book and yet he’s one of the most corrupt sons of bitches going, though proving it is another thing entirely.
I’ve done my best to avoid him over the years since I moved to Stillwater Falls, but in a town this small, it’s impossible not to cross paths every now and then.
How the fuck was I to know this is where he lived?
Had I known beforehand, I’d be a thousand miles from here, but I’d already made this town my home and I’d be fucked if I let him drive me out of it.
It’s safe to say he hates me just as much as I hate him.
He leans towards the man beside him, Barry Collins, the man hoping to become sheriff. He’s an out-of-towner, a man nobody knows anything about. There’s no way in hell he’ll win. Who the fuck is going to vote for a stranger? A man who’s looking way too tight with the mayor. It makes me suspicious.
“Watson’s a crafty bastard, wouldn’t surprise me if he’s rigged the whole thing,” I say.
“He’s definitely up to something,” Jett adds.