Novel & Cerita Biker Gang Books

what? Did I just think of Knives as hot and sexy? Because dirty thoughts and bikers should NEVER be breathed in the same sentence in my mind! I hated bikers! They were the reason why my life had turned into a living hell, and the whole point in trying to get away from here was to never set eyes on another biker, EVER!

He stood up, moved away from the table, and answered the call. "Yes, Sheriff. What's going on, calling me so late?" His voice was calm, but I could feel the seriousness. "Just eat." Noah reminded me to ignore his dad. I tried to focus on my food, but Mr. Adam's words about a biker gang were clear. I looked at Noah. His jaw was clenched. Even though he pretended to be calm, I knew he was on alert, listening to his father's conversation. It seemed like chaos was happening downtown due to a biker gang.

She nodded with a smile. "Give us the money now and we will lead you there," The biker girl said. "I have no time for time wasters, lead us there and you will get your money, if not then you are of no use to me," I said coldly. "Me and my bike men feel differently, wait do you think we can not just kill you now and take your car?" She replied in a venom-filled voice. That was the Toll Biker gang for you. Always trying to make their victims remember just how ruthless they could be.

Some were so afraid to be killed that they’d rather kill everyone in the same room, including themselves. “Martil.” She called me desperately, her hand on the killer’s arms as she tried to prevent him from choking her with the gun. He snickered, watching the heartbreak moment. “I didn’t know you like bitches.” I sucked my teeth, waiting for him to make one mistake. “Who sent y’all?” I asked. The killer laughed. “You are always a wanted man. No one has to send people to kill you.” He wasn’t completely wrong. I only owned a biker gang yet it seemed like I owned a whole mafia world. Sometimes, a biker gang could be more dangerous than a Mafia’s.

The rider slammed on the brakes, the bike sliding sideways and coming to a stop just inches from my legs. He ripped his helmet off. He had dark hair, a jagged scar near his eyebrow, and a look of pure annoyance. His leather vest had a patch: IRON GRAVE MC. "You trying to die, Princess?" he barked. "Or did you just get lost on the way to the castle?" I was shaking so hard I could barely speak. In the distance, I saw the black SUVs. Edmund’s men. "Please," I choked out, grabbing his arm. "I need to get out of here. They’re going to catch me."

But I wasn't giving up that easily. "Think Matilda" I stared at my laptop hoping to conjure some answers from thin air. "Where can I get information about a loan shark biker gang that's anonymous and headed by a Man named Gideon?" Ugh. Dad the ruiner. Fucking up my life even in his death. How the hell did that drunk bozo get entangled with a biker gang? The only places he went to were the casinos and the bars. The casinos and the bars. I searched up on any casino or bar that had ties to a Gideon.

“You okay?” “Motorcycle club?” I asked. He nodded. “Like Hell’s Angels?” Booker smirked. “In theory.” “Crap.” I glanced up at him. “I really should go.” “Go where, darlin’? There’s nothing around here for over a mile in any direction.” “Clarify something for me. Are you a club because you have really nice bikes and like to hang out and drink beer on occasion, or are you like outlaws or something?”

The boys froze, their smirks faltering as the sound drew closer, louder, until headlights cut through the dark. I blinked against the brightness, my heart hammering. A group of bikers rolled into the street, leather and metal glinting under the moon. The roar of engines silenced only when boots hit the ground, a dozen shadows dismounting with lethal grace. The boys around me cursed, panicked, but it was too late. The bikers moved fast, too fast. Snarls filled the air, inhuman and feral, and before my terrified eyes, they tore into the boys with a violence that made me stumble back. Fists cracked against bone. Teeth bared. They weren’t just fighting—they were biting. Wolves in human skin unle

That’s when Amelia saw it. Tucked in the inside pocket was a small, old patch. The color was faded. But she could still see the design—a snake coiled up with its fangs showing. And in big letters underneath: COBRAS MC. Amelia’s blood ran cold. She had seen enough TV shows to know that motorcycle clubs were about land and fighting. And if Lily was carrying a rival club’s patch… "Lily," she said carefully. "Where did you get this?" The little girl’s face went white again. "I... I found it. I wasn't supposed to keep it, but..." She started breathing fast again.

He replied, while pouring her a glass of the sangria she brought. The meal progressed and she enjoyed Drakes company and his cooking. During their dinner conversation, she learned that he was a Rhodes Scholar and a Yale graduate. He had graduated with a double major of law and business. He had taught himself to cook. He enjoyed a challenge, mental or otherwise and whether he bested it or was bested, he learned from it. His double major had been proof of his love of a challenge. His family was very wealthy. Old money. With that money, he helped the people that he could. When he formed the motorcycle club, it was with the idea to help women escape from deadly abusive relationships, and assi