Page 2 of Merry Merry Biker

Groaning in pain, I started moving each of my limbs to ascertain how much damage I’d sustained. Moaning as I moved and then hissed as my muscles pulled. My head was pounding, and I could feel the nausea in the pit of my stomach and hoped I’d get my helmet off before I spewed, if I spewed. It was not one of my favourite pastimes, and I held back more often than not.

From experience, I knew that I had a mild concussion. Although my concussion wasn’t a bad one, my head still thumped in time with every beat of my heart. Slowly moving around, it didn’t seem like any of my limbs were broken. Bruised and strained but not broken. My leathers and helmet had done their job except on my left side which felt like it was covered in road rash from where I’d skidded down the road. Guessing that they hadn’t been able to hold up to the friction.

I’d kept my eyes closed as I was cataloguing my injuries. In the background, I thought I heard a voice, but I’d not hearda car drive up, thinking it must have pulled up while I’d been unconscious. Knowing I wasn’t up to moving my head yet or I’d throw up, I waited. Yep, it was definitely a voice, female, and she seemed to be chanting something, but I couldn’t quite make out what it was. It was only as she got closer that I could hear what she was saying, and I wanted to laugh when her chants turned from‘don’t be dead’to‘don’t let there be blood.’Just my luck to be found my somebody squeamish.

And then there she was—my cheerful, singing and dancing Sprite from the window. Her red hair covered in a green wool hat with a massive red pom-pom on the top. She fell to her knees and started to run her hands up and down my legs to check if they were broken. It was then that I realised from how she was assessing me that she’d had some form of medical training.

She was muttering all the time; I felt a wave of nausea come over me just as she reached my head and lifted the visor up. Closing my eyes and inhaling, I hoped like hell I didn’t throw up.

Opening my eyes, I looked into eyes that were a dark chocolate brown, ringed with dark lashes; there was a dusting of freckles dotted across her nose and her lips were plump and pink.

“Hey,” she said softly. “I’m calling an ambulance, but as we’re in the middle of nowhere, it may be a while before they get here. I can’t find anything broken, but I’m not sure if you have any internal injuries.”

Calling an ambulance was something that I couldn’t let her do. I’d had to resurrect my identity, and it wasn’t ready for close scrutiny yet. It had been a long time since I’d used my real name, having used several aliases over the years and while I had a contact filling in a fake history that would explain the missing years, it would take time. He was almost done and by the new year, all the relevant information would be in place, but untilthen I didn’t need to have any official government departments pulling up my legal name.

“No hospital,” I muttered, my eyes closing as darkness threatened again. “Promise, no hospital.”

“Mister, you need a hospital after that fall.”

Grabbing her hand, I said louder, “No hospital, Sprite, dangerous. Promise.”

“Okay, okay,” she agreed shakily. “No hospital. Do you have a name?”

Opening my eyes again, I struggled to focus on her and for some unknown reason I needed her to know my real name. A name I hadn’t uttered in years, “Tommy, Sprite, name’s Tommy.”

Darkness took me again; my last thought was that I hoped she did as she promised. Me being in a hospital would raise all sorts of questions that I wasn’t in any condition to answer.

CHAPTER 2

LANA

It was the twenty-third of December, and all was right in my world. I'd really lucked out in finding this job, it was perfect for me. I was happiest when I was taking care of people.

And since the sight of blood usually makes me pass out. As I’d found out the hard way when I started nursing, this job suited me better. Nobody wanted a nurse that passed out at the sight of blood. I mean, passing out was never a good thing, but a nurse definitely didn’t need to be passing out over patients. So, that meant my dream job went out the window in a hurry. I tried being a paramedic but that involved blood too, so that was another dream down the drain. I’d changed direction and become a massage and beauty therapist instead.

Now here I was running a hair and beauty salon, and I loved it. It was the next best option for me. No blood involved. There was nothing like job satisfaction when someone came in stressed and overwhelmed with rock-hard and tense muscles, and they left you feeling relaxed and happy with a smile on their face.

To make my life even better, it was Christmas, my favourite time of the year. I'd always loved Christmas, especially as it had been my mum’s favourite holiday; her next favourite had been Easter. She'd go all out at Christmas and start decorating our frontgarden in November. Our house, by the first of December, was always fully decked in Christmas lights and decorations. It must have cost my parents a fortune in electricity, but my dad never complained.

This would be my sixth Christmas without them, and it didn’t get easier. I missed them most during the Christmas holidays, but at least they were together. Or I hoped so. God wouldn’t be so cruel as to split them up in the afterlife.

I'd been invited up to Crow Manor by both Bren and Avy for Christmas Day, but I decided I'd rather spend this Christmas by myself getting my new house sorted and painted. I’d sold the house I’d grown up in when I’d moved here to take this job, and I’d bought myself a fixer upper in the next town not far from the O’Sheas.

I loved it. It was a small plot that butted alongside their property, and I know that Mr. O’Shea had sold it to me at a lot less than market value, but his argument was that he didn’t want neighbours and if he had to have them, then he’d rather have someone he liked. The plot of land had a small three-bedroom bungalow that I was slowly refurbishing. I never thought I’d be any good at doing handiwork, but I found myself loving it.

There was something so satisfying in making my home habitable. I’d worked hard over the last year to get it liveable, and I was now in the final stages. There were just the floors left to sand, a few of the walls left to paint.

Once that was done, I’d be able to start moving furniture in. It was going to be bliss to sit on a couch and not on the camping gear that I was using at the moment. The only piece of furniture that I’d been using from the start was my bed. After only two nights on a blowup mattress, I’d had enough. I wasn’t a niceperson when I was tired, and for the sake of all those around me, I’d set my bed up so that I could get a decent night’s sleep.

I’d had to use contractors for the big jobs like the plumbing, electrical, and fitting of the kitchen and bathrooms, but my bosses had lots of contacts, and they were willing to help me; plus, I got a decent discount as I worked for the Crows. It seemed they were related to most around the village either by blood or by marriage.

I may have lost my family, but I’d certainly found a new one with the Crow MC. They’d welcomed me with open arms. I found it so hard to believe that I’d been living here a year already.

Shaking off my weird mood, I put my Christmas music on, turning the volume up high. Going to the cleaning cupboard, I took the broom out and started pushing it around the front of the salon, making sure everything was clean and ready for us when we came back in January. The thought of having the next ten days off filled me with happiness. There was so much that I wanted to get done during my time off. With a happy smile and a bounce to my steps, I danced around the room, stopping every now and again to sing into my broom.

I was happy. I had a good life, a job I loved, and a house that was mine. What more could I want? I loved my life. Was I lonely sometimes? Sure I was. But so far, nobody had piqued my interest. Maybe one day, if I was lucky, I’d find the right man.

I danced and worked my way around the room with the broom until I ended up by the large floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the salon. Looking out of them, I noticed the lone biker sitting at the one traffic light we had in the village. He seemed to be watching me through the window, but with his visor down on his helmet, it was hard to be sure. He wasn’t part of the MC as there was no Crow logo on his bike, his jacket, or his helmet.I guessed he was just riding through. Maybe on his way to his family for Christmas.

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