Novelas y relatos de Biker

Vex was a famous biker, yet nobody knew Vex's background or gender. ‎Vex swung a leg over Biker No. 13. The bike dipped under the weight as if it recognized its owner. Gloves on. Helmet down. Visor shut. Now there was no face, nor gender, just a devil on two wheels. Thumb to ignition. The engine coughed once, then roared. The ground vibrated. Vex's heart didn’t. Headlights cut through the night like knives.

“Stop looking at me like that.” I snap out of my horny daze and look up at him. He’s frowning, clearly not enjoying being checked out. Never met a biker who didn’t like the attention of a woman. Then again, I’ve noticed he’s different from every other biker... or any healthy man, for that matter. Maybe he’s gay. The hot ones always are. “Fuck you. My room, my rules. You came in here, so I can check you out if I feel like it.”

A black shape drifts around the corner of the alley, tires screeching on the wet pavement. The bike is massive. A beast of matte black steel. The rider doesn't slow down. He accelerates toward the Reapers blocking the exit. They scramble, diving off their bikes as the black Harley plows through them. Metal screeches against metal. Sparks shower the alley like fireworks. The rider skids to a halt ten feet from me. He plants a boot on the ground, stabilizing the bike. Drakon. He’s not wearing a helmet. His dark hair is plastered to his skull. His face is a mask of pure, concentrated violence.

But make no mistake: you do not mess with me, my brothers, or their old ladies. ​I climbed down from my bike. The house wasn't completely dead, but it was quiet for a Sunday morning. Most of my club brothers were back home with their women, though a few were definitely upstairs in the clubhouse rooms, hooking up with the club girls. Even the guys with old ladies still mess around at the clubhouse sometimes. I guess their women know exactly what they signed up for when they chose the biker life. But me? I could never imagine cheating on Ella. Once we are together, that's it. She's my only one.

He warned, before walking out and heading to the entrance. I finished work with Rider standing close. He was the only brother, beside Alex, who stayed this close to me. He was constantly looking round, trying to spot any threats. Everyone had been vetted by Holgate, he was just being precautious. It was coming up to 5pm, time to clock off. I wasn’t working late today, I had the rest of the week, because I wanted to catch up on what I had missed, but I had nothing left to do. I logged out of my computer, signaling to my boss that I was done for the day. He nodded and gave me a thumbs up. He also nodded to Rider, Rider was intimating to everyone I worked with, he was tall, around 6ft 6. He pro

tomorrow.” He gave me his card with a number on it. I headed out back to the bar where Axel was waiting. “So? You gonna prospect for us?” I don’t know yet, I’m thinking about it.” “Ok brother, I can respect that. Come on, let me introduce you to some of the brothers. He led me to the biggest guy I had ever seen. He must have been easily 6ft and built like a wall. I don’t know how but he looked familiar. I couldn’t place him though. “This is Tank.” I shook his hand. “Ryan.” He nodded. “This big guy over here is Rider, he is the club enforcer. He will make sure you are following the rules and not bringing trouble back to us.” Fuck me. This guy is even bigger than the last. He was about 6 and

The bikers are clad in just black and they're both wearing helmets. " Fuck." I look at the handgun in my hand and smile. I might not like violence, but I've always envisioned myself using a gun. I know I'm messed up. Asa pulls out another gun as he shoots at the biker that's already next to us. The biker ducks, swerving to the left as the biker pulls out his gun. I shoot him in the head as his bike flies backwards, slamming itself against the cars behind. " Not bad." Asa says and I smile.

Krystal's resolute nod reinforced our commitment to follow his advice, understanding the necessity of maintaining a low profile in this volatile Following Krystal's lead, I followed her towards the bar, the familiar strains of Bob Seger's "Main Street" resonating through the air. The choice of music only confirmed what I had already suspected – we were indeed in a biker bar. In my mind, Fat Bob had always been associated with images of Harley-Davidsons, cold beers, and Tom Cruise's infamous underwear dance. Little did I know that tonight, I would be adding toothy strippers to that rather eclectic mental picture.

The fourth biker says nothing. He is smaller than the others. He is covered in tattoos. And he has a gun. He points his pistol at Jim. I don't want Jim to die. Jim turns to face me, his eyes wide. "Run!" he says. "It's okay. I can take care of myself." I roll my eyes. "No you can't, human," I say. He looks so bemused. But he's going to look even more so in a second when I shift. Somebody else emerges from behind the wall of bikers.

It's definitely one of dad's people, someone on the inside. I'm confident that the few I threw out aren't who I'm looking for; they were just plain thugs who tried to live up to the myth of the roughneck biker but were too stupid to cover their tracks. If they had the balls to pull off something like this, I would've noticed it in them. Maybe I shouldn't have kicked them out so soon, but the thought of being in the same airspace as those assholes was too much for me to bear.