Booktok Bikers Novels & Stories

I said to them, pleased that my voice didn’t tremble. “It’s pretty dangerous walking around alone late at night,” the same biker said. He was getting off his bike, as was everyone else. “I don’t want any trouble…” I said, my voice coming out as only a whisper. “Well, what a coincidence. We don’t want any trouble either,” another one of the bikers said, stepping closer to me. “We just want to talk. There’s no crime in talking, is there?” “It’s very late,” I said to them, trying to step away, but I stepped into another biker that stood behind me.

If anybody could tell me what should I do to stop myself from loving her, from stop adoring her? Suddenly, I heard the thud sound. I looked around and I found that two of the bikers in front me were laying on the road and their bikes flew few feet’s forward from them. And I found myself right on the finishing line. I pooled brakes immediately and went to see them. They were not badly injured, Just some rashes here and there. I guess it’s normal for a biker to have this much. They stood up quickly and went towards their bike. “You killed it dude. It was thrilling race. I was so excited to see you. What did you eat in the morning?”

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."

I just felt a little protected somehow. “Come on. I’ll take you home,” Booker said. “No, it’s okay. If you can just call me a cab, it’ll be fine.” Booker shook his head. “We’re closed, darlin’, and it’ll take a while for a taxi, so let me just take you home.” I swallowed. “What?” he asked. I glanced at Mack and then back at Booker. “Um… aren’t bikes really dangerous?” Booker seemed to share another secret look with Mack before they both burst out laughing.

I shut the door back with a loud thud just like earlier. As I made my way out of the garage, few people greeted me here and there which was awkward because I didn’t want them to respect me just because I was Ryker’s wife. Fake wife. I want to earn the respect on my own. The world of the bikers was another story to tell. They looked dangerous with the tattoos on their faces and bodies and then the black outfits they wore. As if they were some sort of cult members.

"I need to get out of here. They’re going to catch me." He looked at my dress, then at the cars speeding toward us. He let out a low whistle. "A runaway bride. That’s a new one." "Take me with you. Please. I’ll do whatever you want." The guy, his name tag said AXEL, looked me up and down. A slow, dangerous grin spread across his face. "Whatever I want? That’s a big promise, " "Just drive!" He didn't ask twice. He kicked the bike into gear. "Hold on tight."

He howls in agony. I bite down harder. I taste his blood. It is so sweet. It is so delicious. I close my eyes. I feel his blood run down my jaws and onto my chest. I am so hungry for it. I want to drink every last taste. To consume him completely. The other bikers are shouting. I can hear the revving of their motorcycles. I hear the roar of their bikes as they jump back on them and speed away. I let go off the man's leg.

"That's not our contact here in Owensboro, we need to get outta here." "How do you know?" she asked. To her it was amazing that someone could differentiate motorcycles based on sound alone. "Those are European bikes. You can tell by the volume of the rumble. It's probably the Vojnik." "The who?" she asked, hopping on behind him and grabbing him securely around the waist. "Bosnian for soldier. They are the local Bosnian biker gang, we ain't exactly friendly. They're probably trying to steal the shipment," he flashed her what could only described as a bad boy smile. "We stole one of theirs last week."

It seems he knew all of it was a made up story. “And this biker, what's his name?” he asked, eyes still locked on his notepad. “Mordred Sinclair,” I replied, letting the hate drip into every syllable. “He’s got a crew. Black Vipers or some biker gang bullshit. Check the cameras outside. You’ll see.”

CHAPTER 1 The Knights MC The Knights Motorcycle Club is made up of 18 guys retired from special forces, thier name is Knights MC. Due to their love of motorcycles and wanting to continue the team mentality like they had when they served, the club was born. They have three teams of six men each. They call them teams A, B, and C. Team A has Prez, Scribe, Cash, Doc, Chopper, and Data on it. Team B includes VP, Soldier, Rocket, Patch, Edge, and Hacker. Team C has Radar, Tracker, Ace, Navy, Jammer, and Gamer on it.