Bikers Novels & Stories

She considered herself extremely fortunate to have the opportunity to talk to him. Miss Admirer: Hey, Hottie Biker! My Hottie Biker: Hi, Miss Admirer. He replied to her with a smiley emoji. Miss Admirer: Today, I saw you going in the car with a girl. My Hottie Biker: You saw me! Seriously, you're my real stalker. She chuckled. Miss Admirer: Where is your bike today? My Hottie biker: You found me travelling by car today because I don't like it if anybody sits on my bike.

My leather jacket felt too tight suddenly, constricting around my chest. I wanted to touch his hair badly, wanted to listen to him ramble all day long or watch him smile. He didn't know it, but I liked him a lot, and it was driving me crazy. We might be Alphas from different Packs, but we were all working for one person in the Bikers association, and we might take over from the old hag if we did our job right. But we were slacking lately, and folks from Summer West were the ones taking control.

Right now, I wanted all the names of the girls and boys living in that town. I needed both genders. From my research, most of the bikers were low-key gay men who wouldn’t come out of the closet but would touch young boys inappropriately. We live in a society where boys are not taken seriously when they talk about being abused or touched in the wrong places. As usual, the parents of these kids would never speak up. A biker was as deadly as a mafia mob. They were crazy gang members who wore vests and rode noisy bikes around town with no authorities to keep them in check. They’d do anything they wanted—sleep with different women, young and old, and men, young and

“They say that if the pipes are loud, ongoing traffic will hear them, but the sound from the exhaust goes straight out of the back end. All it does is make them go deaf prematurely—” “And piss pedestrians off,” Brennan grumbled. As the bike approached, I tilted my head to the side, recognizing that it wasn’t a Sunday rider on the back of it. “Biker,” Conor confirmed. “No tags,” I murmured. “Does there need to be? Nearest MC to us is the Sinners,” Brennan pointed out. “He’s not wearing a cut.” I lifted my cellphone and as the biker drove by, I snapped a photo, full frontal and a real beauty, then immediately sent it to Conor, whose own cell buzzed as he received it.

Like it was built to keep people out. As we walk, I notice the others. Men scattered along the grounds, some near motorcycles parked in neat rows. The sound of an engine roars in the distance, and I turn to see a group of riders speed past the gates. Black leather jackets, helmets, the glint of chrome. My chest tightens. A biker gang. I don’t need anyone to explain it to me. The signs are all here. The mansion. The heavy security. The bikes. This client is definitely not a regular person.

My ribs screamed with every breath—courtesy of Derek's boots three nights ago in that motel parking lot outside Tucson. "You cannot run forever, Jenna," he had said, his voice cold as winter. "I will find you again." But I had run. Again. A rumble split the air. Deep. Mechanical. The kind that made your bones vibrate. I lifted my head and saw them. Six motorcycles rolling down Main Street like they owned it. Leather. Chrome. The devil's head patch on their backs—red eyes, fangs bared. Devil's Reign MC. My blood turned to ice.

The riders all got off their bikes and the few that wore helmets quickly pulled them off. "Why the fuck are we here? What could any of you possibly want?" Shooter, ever the hothead spat at us as they lined up to face us. I glanced over the men that had come. Uncles and cousins along with my brothers, my father and Margo's father and brother and a few others. Viper seemed to stare at Margo for a moment but then quickly focused on me. Bear did the same thing. Shooter glared at Nat but then followed suit and looked at me. Most of the group ended up staring at me. What was that about? I glanced over at Joker who just shrugged at me and then gestured for me to speak.

And his voice— His voice promised war. "Two days, and you'll see exactly how much those rules have changed." He turned. Sharp. Aggressive. And his wolves fell in behind him. The Beta hesitated. Just for a second. Like he was going to argue. But Shianne revved her bike. Loud. Pointed. And he moved. The bikers formed a loose escort. Not touching. Not threatening. But there. A wall of leather and chrome and barely-contained violence that made it very clear—

I responded, and Colt slammed his helmet shut again, reversing immediately without signaling to his colleagues. I smiled into his jacket, even among a group of rebels, he was still a rebel. He did not wait for whoever was in charge here to suggest a place to wait out the storm. As he drove in the opposite direction, I stared at the bikers we flew past from behind my visor, their bandannas, neck scarfs and arm bands signifying what club they belonged to. This Hungarian club was different from anyone I had ever seen, ranging from boys and girls who were at most sixteen, to hardened men who were well over sixty.

Two bikers rode side by side with Reynold and he spun the wheel left and right, knocking them off the track. "Yes!" Reynold exclaimed. He looked at the mirrors but they were too cracked to see. "Try your best to not run us into a tree Reynold!" Iryna screamed. Reynold ignored her and accelerated. The bikers had dwindled in numbers, most of them had been knocked off while some had accidents because of the treacherous path. "Seems like they are pulling back for now!" Iryna raised her head and looked behind. "Good, we can get Lucien to a hospital and treat him," Iryna said.