Motorcycle Gang Books Novels & Stories

“We’ll stop at my girl’s before Riccardo. The tire’s ruined anyway. That bastard shot it.” He lifted his phone. “Tell the boss his son’s here. Bring backup.” I closed my eyes. The car reeked of blood and smoke. Despair sat heavy in my chest. The Colombo. Everyone knew their reputation. They were the rot of Cosa Nostra. Dishonest, vile, feeding off the trade the other families despised. Flesh for profit. Girls stolen and broken. Faces flashed in my mind.The missing girls plastered across the news, smiling in photographs. Smiles that would never return.

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"You're right that we can run faster in our wolf forms. But riding gives us something different. It's about the experience and the feeling of the road beneath you and the wind in your face. It's about being part of something bigger than yourself." "Plus we can't exactly shift into wolves and run through the city in broad daylight," Ryder added. "People tend to notice things like that." I couldn't help but smile at that. "Fair point." "The bikes also help us blend in," Jax said. "The Steel Vultures is known as a motorcycle gang and that gives us a cover for our real activities. People see the leather jackets and the bikes and they make assumptions about who we are and what we do. They don't l

Blair's Pov “Yes, top five: the Silent Cartel, the Shadow Syndicate, the SpiderFang, the Diablos, then the Red Vipers. The rest are underdogs who've been trying to live up to us for the longest time without making a bodge. " He laughed. “Ah—I see,” I muttered to myself more than anyone else. This was it; my faith was sealed. It was over for me. The fact that they were the third-strongest Mafia group wasn't as concerning as just how the heck Dimitri was expected to find me in a place as big and profound as this.

I hear the roar of bikes coming from the road and glance up placing my mobile away. Lex is reading lead with Roger, Jax, Michael and Dean following behind. They’re all on mean-ass Harley’s the low rumble ordinarily a sweet noise to my ears. Tonight, as it starts to get dusky, it reminds me of the days when we were in the gang and had wars on our hands, battles to fight, stakes to claim.

Bhuvi asked when Glara's office door closed. Tommy took out a black folder and handed it to Bhuvi. Bhuvi then opened the folder and read each page of Tommy's report. "They are active members of a motorcycle club that often causes trouble. Some of them have been suspects in cases of vandalism of state assets, drug use, rape, and robbery. The worst was when they were involved in a murder case during a motorbike club leadership transition." Bhuvi nodded as she listened to Tommy's explanation. "What about these photos?"

“We already have enough sea and air trades, if that’s what you’re suggesting.” “No, it’s not that,” he clarified. “I was thinking about focusing more on our road trade since that is the problem. Every other alternative is covered.” Receiving a hum of approval from me, he continued, “The Bandidos bikers run most of the roads of America. Plus, they are the only ones with the personnel against the Outlaws.” “So you’re suggesting an alliance with the Bandidos MCs.” I asked, “And how do you suppose we’ll do that because they do not go into fair negotiations?”

Riley reminds me and informs the others in the room who don't know. Humming in response, Riley continues; "All of us in this room are members, Patch holders and hold positions in a motorcycle club called 'The Gray Rebel's."\ Jerking in surprise as I turn my head to look at him; "Y-you g-guys are in a-a g-g-gang?"

I don’t get off, just scan. Three hulking men lean against the van like statues of menace. My stomach churns — not fear, exactly. Anticipation. The kind that tastes like iron and sweat. “And so it begins,” I murmur, unhooking my helmet and hanging it on the bars. “You Damion?” the biggest of the trio bellows. His voice rattles like gravel. I swing my leg off the bike, chin lifted, eyes locking onto his. “Who wants to know?” I size them up — gang tattoos, scars, muscle coiled like springs. Tough. Dangerous. A fight here would be messy. If I can avoid it, I will.

In less than five minutes, Pisces confirmed the motorbike gang’s position, and Thomas rushed over alone. When Thomas arrived, he was in time to see a large group of motorcyclists drinking and eating. One of them was a blonde who looked like the leader. He was eating a drumstick while holding a loudspeaker and bragging, “Brothers, Hunter has already fallen, and Galiot, that old bastard, is also finished. This area’s our territory now. No other power comes close to us, and we’re about to have a good life!” Everyone cheered loudly. Thomas chuckled in resignation and shook his head. No matter the time, such idiots would always exist. Ignorant people existed everywhere and in any period.