Emblem Harley Hyper Novels & Stories

Yup, that's the shit my brother got me wrapped up in. I wheeled the Kawasaki to my spot and killed the stand. She was already drawing attention like the beauty she is. Her name is Sissy. The only good thing about this whole mess. Matte black with a single red stripe running the length of the body. Kawasaki Ninja H2R. Supercharged. 310 horsepower. Built for tracks they hadn't invented yet. I checked the tires. The chain tension. The brake fluid. Partly because the ritual mattered, partly because I had rebuilt this bike from components with my own hands over eight months. Checking meant I was present.

"This is a warning left in a language we do not speak yet, but one we recognize as language despite not knowing the words." Jarek moved deeper into the ruins on a parallel path, and I heard his sharp intake of breath a moment before he called me to him, and when I arrived he was holding something aloft in the dim, fractured light that fell through the canopy, his hands careful with it in the way of someone handling something that has weight beyond its physical weight. The banner was torn but intact, its fabric having survived through some combination of quality and protection that I did not yet understand, and the emblem on it was visible in full - a circle enclosing a wolf with outstretched

I ignore him and turn to bar duty. There are cases of beer and pop under the counter. The newly bought hard liquor is lined up against the back wall. There's a club emblem on that same wall above the bottles. It's the same one the club members wear on their vests. It's actually pretty damn cool, but fuck if I tell any of them that. It's a crow on motorcycle handlebars with two skulls in front. Desert Crows is written on a banner across the top. The design is in a black circle. It looks ominous, which is what the person who designed it was going for.

And that symbol belongs to the Red Moon pack! ***

"We won't let you down" Harley's excitement was palpable as she closely examined the sleek, shiny cars in front of her, "this is incredible, godfather," she said, barely able to contain her joy, "I promise to continue serving you with utmost loyalty and dedication" Harley said, As the girls left Ricardo's chamber, each holding their respective key chains, they couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment, the cars represented more than just materialistic rewards; they symbolized the trust and faith Ricardo had placed in them,

“This is gonna be good.” Tiffany mounted a sleek red Sportster, revving it aggressively. Hazel swung onto her customized black Harley, the one Jax had assigned her. The engines roared in unison. Tiffany’s red Sportster revved aggressively. Dagger stood between them, flag in hand. “Clean race. First to the marker and back. No bullshit.” Tiffany smirked. “Try to keep up, mechanic.” The flag dropped.

I think’ forever' but I don’t say it. Goof laughs “ You have it bad, brother.” Tank squeezed my hand and said low enough for only me to hear “ Yes, I do.” Before I can come up with a response the door opens. I am grateful for the interruption. Not only because I want to take Harley home. But seriously, how could I respond to that? What should I say? Thank you? No, that's not right. It is sweet but I didn’t want to say that in front of Goof. I wanted to kiss him senseless but that was for when we were alone. I feel Harley nudger me with his nose. I scratch him between his ears “ Hi, Harley. Are you ready to go to your new home?” He barks. “ Goof, could you come here?” I feel Goof come beside

Straw Hat Pack Dry Ridge, Kentucky Maria ‘Bee’ Shiver pulled her Harley-Davidson Sportster Sportster Seventy-two to an overlook. Taking her helmet off, her long black hair spilled over her back. Dark amber eyes looked over the valley below. “Damn, it is sure pretty here,” Bee said, stretching her arms over her head and turning to BC.

The cut was black leather in color with the white stitched patches which included the gang's name itself in full view as it draped along the chair. The emblem of a vicious howling black wolf with white eyes and snarling teeth bordered around a bright white moon with the name HOWLER MC. written in stitch form around the visual. The bearded man glanced at his cut and continued to make his way toward the brightly lit bathroom as the sun had burst through the small window above the shower and illuminated the entire room causing him to wince from the view once he stepped inside while his eyes adjusted to his newly lit surroundings.

The Roscoe Reagan Originals emblem was chrome. Evie knelt and was looking at the tribal design. Buried in it were the words DEVIL’S SAINTS and TEXAS RENEGADES. She turned and looked at Tank’s bike and saw the small black on black words around the emblem. “Papi…” She said as the first tears fell. “You think I’m going to let one of my girls ride without a Renegade?” he asked as two of his men handed her men Texas Renegades cuts. “Down here you two ride as Renegades.”