Page 8 of My Three S**y Bikers

I nodded. Of course, I’d noticed the back of his jacket said Devil’s Legacy. I didn’t know much about MCs, so the idea that his MC was called the same name as his jacket made me feel a little silly not to make the connection. It would be like being a democrat and wearing a republic shirt. Of course, that was why his jacket had Devil’s Legacy on it, because that was the name of his club.

I bent down to get my purse then walked beside him as we headed inside. He opened the door, and then I stepped inside while feeling a little on edge about who we could encounter. It was silly, because I’d been nervous about it being full, and now, I was worried about it being empty.

I’d watched too many Quentin Tarantino movies, which had me all paranoid. My eyes darted to the bar, to see that there was no one behind it.

This all felt a little too weird, so I didn’t move much farther than the door, but then I heard footsteps coming toward us from the left.

“Geez, Lucky. You took your sweet time. Thought you just went to get gas, but then we can see you picked up a lot more than that,” a dirty-blond haired guy, who could easily be Jensen Ackles, said as he winked and flirted with me.

Before Lucky could get in a word, another guy, with ginger hair and beard, who’d walked in besides him, spoke.

“Playboy, she’s got a baby. No doubt she’s lost!”

I held on to Dwayne tighter as a lump formed in my throat. Maybe this was a really bad idea.

“You not going to introduce us, Lucky? Well, I’m Greyson. Lucky’s brother, and the MC’s Vice President, so if anything happens to this old dude, then I’m next in line,” the red-head chuckled. He towered over me by only a couple of inches, so I didn’t feel as initiated by him as I did with Playboy and Lucky. They both felt so tall, even if they were maybe half a foot more than me.

“My wife and I live in the house at the back. You’ll meet her in a bit. Her name’s Erin. She loves wandering in here whenever it’s quiet.”

He stretched out his hand, and his warm dark eyes set me at ease.

It was then that I noticed someone was sitting in the corner.

“Scar, come meet Melinda. She just had a rough day with Steel,” Lucky called to the one who had his back to us.

Everything else that came out of Lucky’s mouth was lost. The man who came over wasn’t who I’d known as Scar, but Drake.

I felt as if my heart was going to pop out of my chest and suffocate Dwayne. Drake was here. He was part of an MC. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the idea of finding him, so I held my gaze as he did the same, finding myself unable to talk and wanting the floor to swallow me whole. Then I noticed why Lucky had called him Scar. He had a big scar which ran from his eyebrow to his jaw.

He looked nothing like the Drake I’d once known.

But there was no denying, even in his leather jeans and matching jacket, it was him.

4

SCAR

“What the fuck?”

I nearly tripped as I headed over to Dad and saw the woman standing there. Blonde. Same blue eyes. Same smile, but with a baby.

Dad blurted out. “There’s a baby here. Why do you have to act like that?”

I didn’t know whether Melinda or I should tell him?

“It’s just that Drake and I used to know each other,” she said casually, avoiding my stare.

Really?

We used to know each other. Was that how she would describe it?

“I need to sit down. The little fellow is kinda heavy….” She moved toward the table where I’d been. It had been fourteen months and six days since I last saw her. I couldn’t stop counting the days, because it had been the worst mistake of my life, the day I left her and hadn’t told her I wasn’t coming back.

“Do you want anything to eat? Scar, here, can make a mean steak,” Dad said, trying to clear the tension.

She nodded her head at Dad and completely ignored me. I strutted in the other direction and decided I would make her steak. Seeing as she was buddies with him, he could serve it to her.

In the kitchen, I got to work. The lunch crowd had left, and soon, the pre-dinner crowd would be coming in. I loved my time in the kitchen. I’d never experimented with cooking, until Erin let me give her a hand in here one day. Since then, we’d had MCs from other gangs come here because they think I’m fucking Gordon Ramsey.

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