Page 39 of Biker B!tch

Falling back, I let them handle it. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen next. The leader’s grin faded, replaced by a look of uncertainty. "We don’t want any trouble," he said, his tone less cocky.

Pixie stepped forward, her eyes glittering with menace. "Then you’d better behave. Because if you cause trouble here, you’ll regret it."

The bikers exchanged uneasy glances before nodding. "Alright, alright. We’ll keep it cool."

I felt satisfied as they went to the bar. Those girls asserted their dominance and proved they're not ones to mess with. And I’d stayed back. I wish Tank was here to see it.

By the time the sun set again, I was at my wit's end. I sat on the steps of my own clubhouse, staring at my phone, willing it to ring. I couldn't lose Tank. She had become my anchor, my reason to fight. I needed to find her, to make sure she was safe.

Chapter 22

Boiler

The jukebox in the corner of the Lair played some classic rock tune, but I wasn't really listening. My mind was somewhere else, lost in memories I usually tried to bury.

Bull, our VP and my closest brother, sat across from me, sucking on a brew. His eyes were sharp, always watching, always assessing. “You’ve been quiet lately, Boiler. What’s eating at you?”

I shrugged, taking a long pull from my drink. “Just thinking about the past, man. You know how it is.”

Bull leaned back, his gaze never leaving mine. “Yeah, I know. But you’ve been brooding more than usual. Spill it.”

Riptide, our Prez, joined us at the table, his presence commanding as always. He patted my shoulder, giving me that knowing look. “Bull’s right. Something’s eating you. Out with it.”

I breathed out heavily, running my hand through my hair. “It’s just... everything. The truce, the Heelz, Tank. But mostly... it’s the past catching up to me. My time in the Army, the shit I’ve seen, the people I’ve lost. And then there’s Max’s mom.” It was as if worrying about Tank’s absence brought all this other shit to the surface.

Smoke, our resident wildcard, sauntered over with an evil grin. “Boiler’s getting all sentimental. Must be some pussy involved.”

I shot him a glare, but there was no heat in it. “Yeah, there is. But it’s more than that.”

Riptide spoke up, “You guys know he was in the Army before he joined the club. Did two tours in Afghanistan. Saw things that would make you piss your pants, Smoke.”

Bull nodded, his expression somber. “We’ve all got our ghosts, brother. But you’ve carried yours longer than most.”

I took another sip of my drink, the burn of the whiskey grounding me. “It’s not just the war. It’s what happened after. I came back fucked up, couldn’t keep a job, couldn’t keep a relationship. Then I met Sarah, Max’s mom. Thought she was the one. Turns out, she couldn’t handle my shit.” My brothers knew she left us when Max was just a baby. What I didn’t say was I was afraid I ran Tank off too.

Riptide frowned, his grip on my shoulder tightening. “We all know what she did to you, brother. But you’ve been a damn good father to Max. You’re a changed man. That kid has softened you. You’re nothing like the man who earned the name Boiler.”

Bull interjected, “Still a badass though.”

I appreciated the words, but it was hard to shake my past. “I’m trying, Rip. But it’s hard when the woman who abandoned her own kid keeps showing up, asking for money, strung out on who knows what.”

Smoke leaned against the table, his usual smirk replaced by genuine concern. “You’re doing the best you can, man. And you’ve got us. We’re your family.”

“Thanks, guys. It means a lot. And Tank... she’s different. She’s tough as nails, but there’s something about her that makes me want to protect her.”

“That’s love man.” Bull chuckled, raising his beer in a toast. “To Boiler and his badass biker bitch. May you both find some peace in this fucked up world.”

We clanked our bottles together, the camaraderie of my brothers lifting some of my worries.

Riptide leaned in, his eyes serious. “We’ve got your back, Boiler. Whatever happens.”

Smoke's mischief returned as he grinned. “Hell, you and Rip both fucking a Heel... Whatever, we all jerk it to the thought of bending a lady biker over. But love. Those tough bitches?”

Shaking my head, I laughed. “Maybe you’re not man enough, Smoke. Takes a real man to handle a strong woman.”

With each passing hour and drink, I felt more determined. My brothers had my back, and that meant everything.

Smoke pulled out his guitar, strumming a few chords. We usually played together. “Got a song for you, Boiler. How about some ‘Simple Man’? Feels fitting tonight.”

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