Page 16 of Single Mom for the Bikers

Acid builds in my veins, itching under the skin, but there’s no point in defending myself, not to him. “Easy to say when no one’s buying. Is this your life now? Bought a truck to pretend to be a farmer while you commute to work? You were a fucking enforcer. I don't fucking believe you gave it all up for a mortgage and weekend grill parties.” I rest my arm on his truck. “What are you doing here?”

“Take your fucking hands off my ride, or it's the last fucking thing you'll ever do.” He seethes as he comes closer, pulling up the sleeves on his hoodie and revealing the cheap home done ink all over his forearms. “This neighborhood's cheap, convenient, and up until just now, was free of reminders of my damn past. I live here, so if you didn’t know I was here, then I think you’re the one who needs to tell me why you’re standing in my driveway.”

“Or what? Gonna gun me down in front of your own house?” He doesn't look like he's packing, and even if he is, I'm prettyfucking sure that I'm faster. But I don't think he will. Not here where it would draw the wrong sort of attention. He might break my face, though.

He fucking wants to, I can see the frustration written bold all over him. “Jesus Christ, Ruin. I’m out. I told you. I don't even really blame you for leaving the Pit Vipers when you did. Crow was taking shit too far. He needed to be dealt with, but the Screaming Eagles? Were you there when they fucking slaughtered us? How did that make you feel? Did killing the people you used to ride with make you feel anything?” He points back at the street. “Get the fuck out, and if I see you again, I won’t be as friendly.”

“I’ll leave when I’m ready.” Pushing off, I smack my palm against the hood of the truck a couple times. “Someone’s been causing trouble around here. We heard about it, and when I came through the other day, they took a shot at me.”

His expression is blank. Too blank. “Not my problem, and not yours either. This isn’t Eagles territory. Maybe you should have stayed in South Side with the rest of the trash.”

“Then how would we have had this heartwarming reunion? I didn’t know you lived here, but it’s a real fucking coincidence that I thought I recognized this truck, and then who comes out of the house but my old buddy Grinder.”

“Oh fuck off. What the hell would I have to gain from pissing off the Screaming Eagles? You thinking I'm driving around, hunting for you assholes, hoping that one of them one day is going to ride through my fucking neighborhood? I have better shit to do with my time. That part of my life is in the past.” He takes a couple menacing steps closer. “I'm not gonna spend my evening gettinginterrogated by a moron like you. Get the hell outta here before I call the cops.”

I actually stop and blink at that. “The cops? You'd fucking call the cops? You? Don't they still have warrants out on your ugly ass?”

“You always had a smart mouth, didn’t you? Guess what? Nobody gives a shit how many fucking generations your family rode with the Vipers anymore. I can kick your ass and nobody’s going to say shit.” Grinder tightens his hands into meaty fists.

I can make fun of the fucker all I want, but he knows how to fight. Used to be his job to put down troublemakers, whether it was by pounding the shit outta them or putting a bullet through their skull. Flinching would give him what he wants, so I stay still, but light on my feet in case I need to dodge. “What happened to calling the cops?”

“I think I just changed my fucking mind. So what's it gonna be, Ruin? Are you going to get the fuck off my property? Or do I get to fertilize the grass with your blood?”

“I want my fucking answers.”

“I already told you. I didn't run you off the damn road. I don't know what the fuck you're doing here or why the fuck you're bothering me. I've put the life behind me, and I'm respectable as fuck. Just trying to live my life in peace.”

“Bullshit.”

Even expecting it, his fist comes at me like his shoulder is a loaded spring.

Turning away, I manage to avoid the brunt of it, but there's still enough force when he clips my jaw that I’m seeing stars. Allthose aches from the crash flare up like fireworks. Jesus Christ, he's a fucking monster.

I push off the truck, forcing myself to ignore the pain radiating through my whole face. “That all you fucking got? Retirement's made you soft.”

“Motherfucker!”

“Aw, tell your mom I said hi.”

This time I'm ready. He throws too much of his weight into it, so when I step aside, he overcommits. I stop him with my knee in his gut and he drops like a fucking stone. I follow with a boot to his ass that rolls him clear over, but he’s on his feet in a flash. I jump back before he does the same to me.

“You really wanna do this? I've got nothing to tell ya, alright?” Grinder spits. “We can fight all fucking night, but don't mean I'm gonna suddenly become the man you're looking for. Go fuck off so I can go back to pretending you don't fucking exist.”

“Pretend all you fucking want. I know you and this whole reformed man thing is bullshit.” I pat the side of his truck.

“Who the fuck are you to talk? You’ve got shit on me? So what? I know where your skeletons are buried, too, and I’m not the only one. The Screaming Eagles might’ve killed off most of the Pit Vipers, but we’re still out there, and we fucking remember. If I say the word, you’re dead.” Grinder moves in a crouch, every muscle ready for me. Maybe if I wasn't still recovering from a concussion, I'd be confident I could take him, but adrenaline's only going to carry me so far. My ears are ringing and my balance feels off.

Besides, much as I fucking hate to admit it, the Grinder I knew wouldn’t be caught dead playing suburban bachelor. Is he telling the truth?

I wish I remembered more. His truck caught my attention for a reason, but it looks the same as a million others. Maybe it was a truck that hit me, but from the damage to my bike, it was a solid hit and that would leave a mark. All I'm doing now is risking getting my teeth kicked in without getting any fucking closer to an answer.

“Fine.”

He snorts a laugh. “Fine? This some kinda trick? You about to pull iron? Never seen you back down from a fight.”

My sides are acting up and my head's ringing. Fuck. Fuck! “I guess I'm feeling generous. But if I catch you fucking around me or anyone I know, I'll fucking end you.”

“So do it already,” he growls. “You and your new buddies already took out the rest of the club. What’s a little more blood on your hands?”

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