Page 33 of Seized By Solo

“I am going to fuck you so hard when we get up to our room,” he growls.

“I’m looking forward to it.” I purr.

“Well, there goes the last of them.” Woody laughs, taking a pull from his beer. “Now we have to go into town for pussy.”

Everyone laughs and carries on like nothing happened. The night rolls by, everyone having a blast, drinking, before Kane finally takes me to bed and fucks me into the mattress, leaving me stated and one very happy girl.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SOLO

Tossing the dirty cloth over my shoulder, I look down at the bike in front of me, cursing up a storm at the damage. The customer got hit by a young girl who was playing on her fucking phone while driving.

Fucking kids these days think they can do what they want and get away with it. The girl actually blamed my client for putting himself in front of her car on the motorway.

“I almost got sideswiped last week by some prick because he didn’t like that I was sticking to the speed limit. We were in a fucking school zone, so I was going slow. I am not risking hitting some kid for some prick who wants to speed,” Dutch tells us, shaking his head.

“I think the older generation are just as bad as the youngest on the roads. The older people blame the kids for being reckless, but fuck me, I have been hit or almost hit by more people Pres’ age than I have people younger than me,” Kink adds.

I nod in agreement because he’s right. The older generation believe the younger generation cause more accidents on the road, but they don’t. One time, I watched Nadine’s car get hit by a guy in his seventies. He was hell bent on blaming her, but thankfully, she had a dashcam in her car (a condition from Pres). It helped her with insurance and the police because the old fucker became abusive to her, until he saw me and Woody.

“Everyone only sees what they want to see, brother.” I nod to my younger brother.

I get back to fixing this bike while Dutch and Kink pull apart a few bikes that have come in for repairs. They are using scrap parts to fix them up as the two young clients don’t have a fuck load of cash, so the club is doing them a solid by giving them second-hand parts for a discount.

Nothing should get in the way of a man and his motorcycle.

“Una and I leave next week. She has packed and unpacked, then repacked like a million times. What the hell is with women and packing for a holiday?” Dutch gripes.

Chuckling along with Kink, I smile at my brother. He may be bitching but he loves his woman and will do whatever the fuck she wants, or she will have his balls in a jar so fast it will make your head spin. Since they sorted their shit out, Una takes no shit from Dutch.

When Una first arrived at the club, Dutch changed into some kind of monster, and she received the brunt of his words and aggression. He just never told her why, at the time, he was being a cunt to her, and he almost lost her for good.

My woman and my brothers’ women are currently shopping for baby things and some things my kids need, since they aregrowing like weeds. When I speak about Ruthie and Ricky being mine, it settles the shit in my once black heart.

For years, I never thought I would find someone I would settle down with, not after my cunt ex-wife hurt me in the most messed up of ways. She fucked one of my army buddies while I was off fighting for our country, and then had the cheek to blame me for not satisfying her.

My phone rings from its place on the worktop, but I ignore it, needing to get stuck into this bike. It rings off and rings again, and something in my gut tells me something is wrong. I jump up, rushing to answer, my brothers taking notice now also.

I see Elsie’s name and my stomach drops.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“She’s gone, Kane. He took her,” Elsie wails through the phone.

“Who is gone? Elsie baby, you need to calm down and tell me what the fuck has happened.”

“The school called me. He went into the school and took Ruthie. He hurt Ricky.” She cries through her explanation.

My stomach rolls, and my heart cracks open. Someone has taken my daughter.

“Who, baby? Who took our girl?”

She cries harder. I can hear her gasping for air while trying to speak and control her sobs.

“Al- Alan took her. I can’t lose her, Kane.”

“I’m on my way now. Are you at the school?” I ask her, running to my bike, Dutch and Kink right behind me.

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