Biker Or Not Novels & Stories

“So, how did you meet my son?” Great. I adjusted my sitting position, in such a way that would make me look like the real gangster with no manners. Yes, that was my plan. Ryker’s body tensed as he saw me do that. “Actually, I met him during a match. I am an independent biker. I don't belong to any gang. I was wandering in the night, trying to figure out how petty life had been when your son found me. I won’t say much. The rest is story. Here we are about to take on a forever deal.”

Whenn she flushed, he continued, "Don't be embarrassed Sam. I haven't really enjoyed the company of a woman such as yourself in a long time." Drake opened a door previously unnoticed on the wall in the mudroom. Going through the door, they walked out onto a wide wooden deck where a table sat with beautiful china and crystal. Samantha was in awe. There was depths to this man. He was a biker. A beast of a man. Rough around the edges, but with manners to rival any old moneyed family. She began to wonder just who was Drake, President of a motorcycle club.

I just needed to figure out what to say when I messaged her. X-Biker Friend: Hi there, I wanted to let you know that I'll be unavailable for a while - more than just a few days. I won't be able to take any phone calls, and my responses to texts might be delayed, but I'll get back to you when I can. I enjoyed hanging out with you and am excited to see you again once I return.

Someone who would love me as I was and save me from my sufferings. Days passed since that incident and my wounds healed faster than normal. I ignored it, however, making sure I didn't cross paths with Melissa again, no matter what. I never set my eyes on Brian since that day either, and I knew it was because he was busy with the race that occurred between our pack and the nearest wolf pack, Moonmist pack. I always wanted to know what it would be like to be a female biker but I knew it was impossible. Only alphas were allowed to be bikers. A mere wolfless omega like me would be killed before I even made it there.

Ryker cleared his throat before answering, "To hang out at the bar as usual." "And drink and get drunk?" Rosalia shook her head. "No wonder," she said more quietly. Ryker who heard that was drawn closer to her. "What does that head shake mean?" Rosalia girded her loins even though she was scared to death of Ryker and those men. "That's what I thought about the biker gang and you confirmed it." Ryker quickly picked up the screwdriver Rosalia was holding. "We're not an ordinary biker gang. We're not what you think we are." Then he threw the screwdriver at the wall and it stuck there. "We're more dangerous than you think."

“What’s your name?” He hesitates, like he’s deciding whether I’m allowed to know it. “Jude.” “Nice name,” I lie without blinking. The corner of his mouth twitches. Is that… a smile? I keep going. “So, Jude. This Reaper of yours. Your boss?” He tilts his head instead of answering. Then I see it. The motorcycle. My stomach tightens and I rub my wrist again. Motorbikes have always meant bad things for me. Broken doors. Raised voices. Leather jackets and fear. Last night, the alcohol made me brave. This morning, the nightmares reminded me who I really am.

Clearly, Jax's claws and fangs had done brutal work. I felt a wave of satisfaction as I saw ripped throats and blood pools on the snow. The third biker lay on the snow-covered ground nearby. He clutched his gut. Blood pumped between his fingers. His face had gone pale. Jax glared at the biker. "Who sent you?" The biker coughed. Blood bubbled on his lips. “Fuck you. You… and the witch…You won’t expect what’s coming." "What does that me?"

Mason replies. " You know the lives of bikers. Dangerous missions, alcohol and women. That's our lives. It was my life before I met you. I don't need to pretend to be something I wasn't. I used to fuck,alot. Different women every time. Some who just wanted to be fucked by a biker, others who were trying to get into a relationship. I don't want to sugarcoat things for you, Hera. What you see is what you get." I assure her. She stares at me with an unreadable expression. I can't decipher what's going through her mind. Her thoughts.

"You're imagining things. There are no gods, but you have to go right now. I'd rather not get you into trouble once the fighting starts." "What?!" The biker was shocked. "Who's fighting?"

“Satan’s Bar. We own it.” “We?” “The Road Devils.” “Are what are you?” She thought about the men’s names, the matching vests, the gun, the tattoos. “Are you a – a biker gang?” “You mean, are we a motorcycle club as seen on prime time TV and in Hollywood movies?” She nodded. “Yes and no.” He sighed. “We are indeed an MC but we aren’t criminals.” “You aren’t?” “Well…” A strange look crossed his face, then he seemed to snap back to himself. “Yeah. I mean, no, we’re not criminals.”