The Biker's Fate Novels & Stories

His thumb brushed the inside of her pulse and she could feel in her bones the night they’d had before, the ones before that, a history written in pressure points and denied tears. “Move,” she said, and he did because strategy turns him on more than blood. Between the three of them, the crate met water and the decoy went where the light would fall and the men without flags would shoot first. Tires hissed by the front drive; another team, another problem. “Go,” Alessio murmured to the biker without looking at him. Command sits easy on some men; resentment sits easy too. The biker didn’t argue. He revved, he vanished, and the night folded around the gap he left.

As he informed the men, the biker increased his speed and got beside their car while pointing his pistol towards the car. Umer was sitting at the window seat when he saw the pointed gun towards him. Before they could take out their own guns, he shooted first at Umer. Umer in time leaned down and the shot hit his driver's head. The car due to full speed lost the control and they hit the large tree at the side of the road. The biker didn't stopped and shooted endless shots at them. One shot hit his right hand man's chest and one hit Umer in his left arm.

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.

I gunned it straight toward them. The first biker came up fast, gun in hand. I swerved hard, clipping his back wheel. He spun out, crashing into the guardrail. Luca darted to the side, firing a shot that sent the second rider tumbling into the ditch. The third biker raised his weapon — and that’s when I recognized the face under the helmet. Rex. Bishop’s right-hand man. The one who’d cornered Saint the night he died. He fired, bullets shattering the van’s windshield. I ducked, glass slicing across my cheek.

My grandparents were tone-deaf to his pleas and told the doctor to proceed. Well, Zipco escaped. The bikers raided the hospital and left with their member. Back then, I cheered them on and was happy that someone was willing to save him from the madness in the family. But three years later, I wished they had cut his leg and that he stayed in a wheelchair and never went back to the bikers. After they raided the place, they took him to another hospital, and his leg got better. I heard he stayed away from his bike for about four months before he started riding again. But two years later, he got shot in a biker war. I can still remember the pain it caused us when they brought back his casket to t

Maybe today was the day I died. My eyes closed. At least Olivia was still alive. But my eyes couldn’t have closed for long because when I opened them again, the bikers who had been driving just ahead of our car were turning around. I grabbed a rifle and without a second thought stepped out of the car as clean bait. I heard one of the engines rev louder and one of the bikes shot forward. My bullet sliced his tires open and he and his bike went flying and crashing to the other side of the road.

It was empty, so I ran out from their coverage, but the third biker zoomed before me, making me take multiple steps backward into their middle, or else I would get hit by his bike, and I didn't want that. Before I knew it, the bikers began circling me, trapping me in the middle of their humming and terrifying bikes. "What do you want from me, you bastards?! Why are you after me? I was nowhere around your territory so what the heck do you want from me?" I demanded, my voice rising as I managed to find my voice but my bag was yanked away from me unexpectedly, forcing my frame to stumble forward. But I was stunned when I heard loud growls, and the next I saw was the bikers flying off their bike

The biker stood over him, unmoving, his presence suffocating. Then—he reached into his jacket. Lucas flinched, half-expecting a weapon. But instead— Click. The flash of a camera. A picture. A message. A reminder. The biker pocketed his phone, tilting his head slightly. “This was a warning,” he said. Then—without another word—he swung his leg over his bike, revved the engine, and disappeared into the night. The silence that followed was deafening. Lucas lay on the ground, gasping for air, his body aching, his pride shattered.

The first biker asked one of the spirits but he get no response. The silent treatment he got indicated that they'll be there for a very long time of not forever. That situation scared the first biker as he pushed one of the guards and began to make a run for it but it wasn't for long though as one of the water spirits threw a trident at the first biker from a distance nailing him to the wall. His chest bled out wnd he died on the spot. "Damnit! Nooo! Goddamnit!” Kilnu lamented in tears.

The rider wore a helmet that completely hid his enter face. “What the hell is that?” The biker matched our speed perfectly then he looked directly at me. A cold feeling slid heavily down my spine and Jax’s arm tightened around my waist. “Do not slow down.” The biker reached inside his jacket slowly and brought out a gun. “Jax!” “I know.” The biker raised the weapon directly toward us and another shot suddenly rang out from somewhere above. The biker’s shoulder exploded violently with blood which made his motorcycle lose balance instantly before crashing hard across the wet road.