Biker Taken (The Lost Souls MC Series Book 6), Page 2

  “Hey, are you fuckin’ serving or what?”

  The deep, heated voice breaks the hold John is having over me and Michael is reaching over the bar himself for a glass. He slams an empty bottle of whiskey down and knocks it onto the floor. Personally, I think he’s had more than enough already, however, I turn and lean up to grab another bottle of the same brand and don’t waste any time filling his glass.

  “You were with Benny last night, how well did you know him?” he asks, before necking his drink back in one gulp.

  Slamming the glass down, he nods for me to fill it and I do.

  “I only met him a few days ago.”

  “Just another whore then,” he mutters, “there’s always a whore trying to jump on a dick somewhere.”

  Instantly, the bar goes quiet and Michael’s insults can be heard by everyone. I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but a whore has never been one of them. I was with Benny and who knows what would have happened if the Raging Riders hadn’t shown up and killed him. I wouldn’t have been asleep in John’s bed for sure. Benny was funny and he made me laugh every time he opened his mouth. Did I like him? Of course I did, I wouldn’t have gone outside with him if I didn’t but I was caught up in the moment, having a blast at the party and we got carried away. In no certain form am I a whore.

  I pour him another drink but before he can pick it up, I grab it and throw the contents over him. I don’t care who you are, you call me a whore, I’m going to react.

  Long seconds pass and he doesn’t move, no one does. Drops of whiskey fall onto the bar from his chin and his eyes pin me frozen.

  A chill runs through my body when he stands back and starts to make his way around the bar, towards me.

  “Michael, leave her alone.”

  I go to step back when my escape is blocked by a solid wall of muscle. Again, being this close to him, I know I’m safe.

  “She threw my fuckin’ drink over me,” Michael argues.

  “You called her a whore, I think you’re both even. I mean it, Michael, leave it.”

  John’s large hand gently but firmly wraps around my arm and he ushers me around him and firmly plants me behind him.

  “Stay out of this, Oak.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  John stiffens, bracing himself for the onslaught his protecting over me is going to cost him.

  “Michael, Rayna wants to see you,” Mark yells.

  Looking over my shoulder, Mark sounds like he hasn’t seen what’s going on, like he’s calling his brother as he normally would, but he’s seen and he doesn’t look happy.

  “Come on, you don’t want to keep her waiting,” he adds, heading for the door.

  Michael reluctantly turns and walks away, following his brother.

  My protector swivels around and lifts me, carrying me until we are out of sight and pushes me up against the wall.

  “What in the hell were you thinking? Working behind the bar means the guys are gonna say shit, you start throwin’ drinks at them every time you hear something you don’t like, I’m gonna be in a lot of fuckin’ fights.”

  “I was thinking he called me a whore and I’m not, what else was I supposed to do?”

  “Look, Michael is temperamental. He can switch in the blink of an eye and I don’t want you on the receiving end of it again.”

  “It’s a good job you were there then, isn’t it,” I snap.

  I’m not going to apologise for defending myself. If you don’t want to end up wearing your drink, don’t give me a reason to cover you in it.

  “It’s a good job Michael loves Rayna and will do anything she asks. I doubt she actually wanted to see him just now, but Mark knows she’s the only reason he would walk away from a fight.”

  Everyone knows Michael is in love with Mark’s wife, Rayna. I’ve only been coming here for a short time and even I’ve seen the way he looks at her and how he acts around her. Not one person speaks about it, but it doesn’t mean his love isn’t there.

  “I can’t believe you jumped in to defend me like that.”

  “I know Michael and he’s not a nice guy most of the time, plus, I don’t want him scaring you away.”

  I don’t want him to either.

  “Nobody scares me away from someplace I want to be,” I assure him, “but, I will stay out of his way, if it makes you happier?”

  “Thank you.”

  With everything being said, he walks me back to the bar and takes a seat and makes himself comfortable. He doesn’t move and he hardly takes his eyes off me for the rest of the night. Whether I’m taking orders, pouring drinks or cleaning up, I can feel his eyes on me constantly. It’s been so busy I don’t notice when it goes quiet and I don’t see more than six guys left still content on drinking.

  “I don’t know when I’m supposed to finish for the night,” I manage to say, before I’m yawning.

  “It’s quiet now, I’ll get a prospect to wait out the stragglers. Talk to Mark tomorrow and get some shifts sorted out.”

  I smile John’s way and like how he’s sat at the bar all night keeping me company in between serving.

  “You know, it’s real late, if you don’t want to stay I can give you a ride back into town?” he says.

  There are a few reasons why I don’t want that to happen but the main reason is, I want to stay with him.

  He holds my hand from the second we walk out of the bar and the whole distance to the house. The lights are still on but no one is around. With my hand still in his, he leads us up the stairs and the room I thought I wouldn’t see again comes into view at the end of the landing.

  His room is the only room that is shrouded in darkness, he turns on the lamp and the dim light fills the room, casting a huge shadow against the wall from where he stands.

  No wonder Michael thought I was a whore, last night Benny was found with his pants around his ankles and me hiding behind a truck not too far from him and tonight I’m in another man’s bedroom planning on sleeping in the same bed as him.

  “I’m not going to have sex with you,” I blurt out, letting my thoughts become vocal.

  He stops emptying his pockets and raises his eyebrows, “Are we talkin’ about tonight or ever?”

  He isn’t questioning me seriously. I relax around his teasing smile but answer him seriously.

  “Tonight.”

  “So there’s hope for the future?” he asks, returning to emptying his pockets.

  “Maybe.”

  I don’t know why I’m being so shy.

  “I can deal with that,” he says, throwing one of his tees at me.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I make a quick dash for the bathroom and thank the lord when it’s empty and I quickly lock the door behind me.

  Embarrassment begins to settle in, I can’t believe I blurted out I wouldn’t have sex with him the way I did. Who does that?

  Taking care of my needs and changing into his tee, I creep back to his room and close the door behind me.

  He is already in bed and he has switched the lamp off.

  “I thought if you couldn’t change in front of me, you might appreciate the light off too,” he says, throwing back the blankets on the empty side of the bed.

  Through the darkness, I move around the bed and climb in beside him, leaving a wide gap between us. It’s been a long day and as soon as I pull the blankets over me and lay down, all the tension flitters away.

  “I don’t bite you know,” he whispers, comically.

  “Maybe I do,” I tease.

  A loud bark of laughter bounces around us, “You’re protecting me now?”

  “It’s for your own good,” I laugh, enjoying the easy going teasing.

  “And here I thought it was because you thought I would jump on ya.”

  “Nope, just for your safety.”

  Rolling onto his side, he keeps the gap open between us and I do the same.

  “After what you saw last night, I didn’t expect you to b
e like this today.”

  “Like what?” I ask, not understanding him.

  “Before we fell asleep this morning you were scared, shaking with it, then after a few hours’ sleep you’ve been carrying on like nothing happened, like you didn’t see a man shot down in front of you.”

  The blood comes back and it’s all I can see, it’s all I can smell. The one thing I will always remember is how warm his blood felt as I tried to stop it pumping out of him.

  “You’re making me sound like I don’t have a heart.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that, I guess what I’m asking you is, are you okay?”

  I inhale deeply and wonder if there is something wrong with me? I should be upset by Benny’s death and I am, of course I am, I will never forget him or how he died, but I can’t bring myself to cry about it like we had this big love affair that we didn’t. I feel bad for him but after the shock wore off, life carried on. Shit, my own thoughts are making me heartless.

  “I’m fine,” I tell him, “Benny and I weren’t anything but two people who met a few days ago and just wanted to have a good time and forget about everything else that was going on.”

  “What do you want to forget about?” he asks, interested in more than what I want to divulge.

  “Stupid stuff,” I lie.

  “Nothing is stupid if you have to run off to a motorcycle club to forget about life.”

  “Okay, I don’t want to talk about it,” I clarify.

  “Fair enough, if you do want to talk, I’m here.”

  “Why? I’m sure you have better things to do with your time?”

  “I’ll do what I want with my time, I always do and I quite like the idea of listening to you about your life,” he retorts.

  I’m thankful it’s dark and he can’t see the huge smile I’m wearing. After the last twenty-four hours we should be passing out with fatigue, but until four am we lay side by side talking, talking about anything and everything. John ‘Oak’ Johnson is not just an incredibly handsome man, he’s a great listener and when he takes an interest in what you’re saying, he digs deeper until he has every piece of information he can gather. He may wear leather, ride a motorcycle and carry a gun, but he’s the first gentlemen I’ve ever met.

  Chapter Three

  Oak

  For the second night in a row, Micky and I are parked in a beat up truck keeping watch over the Raging Riders clubhouse.

  We will attack in the near future, but Mark wants to follow their comings and goings beforehand. So each night, when the Raging fuckers are distracted with booze and women, we watch everything. It’s fucking boring.

  “Flo’s been telling me how you’re with that Shellie girl every minute you can get with her.”

  It’s been quiet between us for too long, I’m surprised he hasn’t spoken up yet. Micky isn’t one to keep quiet and enjoy the peace silence brings.

  “You and Flo chatter like old women, you know that, right?” I laugh.

  They’ve been together for the last few months but they act like a couple who have been together for the last fifty years.

  “So what’s the deal with her?” He pushes.

  “She’s cool to hang around with,” I shrug, not wanting to give up every detail to him, knowing he will only talk to Flo and she will talk to Ray and before I know it, the whole fucking club knows my business.

  “Come on, man. That’s all you’re saying?”

  “I like her and she’s got a job behind the bar, it makes sense I’m with her a lot.”

  A group of Raging fucks stumble out of their clubhouse and Micky and I slouch down in our seats until they pass.

  “The sooner we get them, the better I’ll feel,” I murmur, watching them disappear around the corner completely unaware we are on their territory.

  “Anyway, she isn’t going to go anywhere now Mark’s given her a job and she has your bed to sleep in,” he carries on.

  “That’s how I want it to stay,” I finally give up and let him know how much I like her.

  Over the last week she has spent every night falling asleep next to me and waking up next to me and the most that has happened is a kiss here and there. No sex, only kisses and I’ve come to need them. It’s made worse when we’re in the same room, I’m pulled to her whenever we’re in the same place and instead of fighting it, I find myself at its mercy.

  I want her and I’m going to have her.

  “Nothing’s happening here tonight, let’s go home and Mark and Michael can drive out here tomorrow.” Micky yawns.

  “Mark won’t let Michael near this place until we are here to attack, he wouldn’t trust him not to get out and shoot the fuckers on his own.”

  Micky drives slowly past their clubhouse and it’s full of activity, just like it was last night.

  Being this close to our enemy is border line insanity. Micky and I would both be shot dead before we could blink if they saw us here.

  The drive back to our clubhouse is clear and quiet, Micky obviously finished with his inquisition about Shellie.

  She said she was working tonight, hopefully she is still in the bar when we get back. I’ve never took the time to watch a woman before, but every night I sit in the clubhouse and watch her work. I watch her work, when she’s with the girls, and even when she sleeps. Whenever I’m around her, I can’t take my eyes off of her. She has got to me so quick, she hasn’t given me the chance to fight the urge to stay away from her.

  “Do you want to stop and grab some food?”

  “Nah, get me home,” I say, needing to be sat at the bar.

  “You have got it bad,” he laughs, pushing his foot down on the accelerator.

  It’s not long before Micky is parking up by the house and we’re both heading for the bar. Michael’s deep voice can be heard before we’re through the door and after following Micky in, I see our friend looking like he’s lost his patience with his brother.

  “We should be taking them out, not watching them,” Michael argues.

  This must be the hundredth time we’ve heard this from him, it’s all he’s been banging on about for days. Mark kept him soothed for a while with this plan to watch and wait a while but Michael’s patience wore out after two days of watching.

  “We’ve all voted and this is what we decided,” Mark calmly but sternly tells him, again.

  I lose all interest in Mark and Michael when Big fucking Ron catches my full attention. Leaning over the bar, he’s grubby fingers are sweeping Shellie’s hair away from her face and she doesn’t look too happy with him either.

  I don’t remember the seconds that follow, adrenaline kicks in hard and fast and before I know it, I’m grabbing him by his cut and using all my strength to yank him away from the bar. He lands on the floor and I fall on top of him and I throw a right straight into his jaw. All I can see is him touching Shellie. I hear nothing around me or his grunts as my knuckles repeatedly smash his nose.

  It becomes harder to move my arms and it takes a minute to realise both Mark and Micky are pulling me away.

  They must be using all their strength, I’m bigger than them and stronger than them individually, together they manage to pull me away from Big Ron and hold me back.

  “What’s going on?” Mark demands.

  “He was touching her,” I pant, trying to free myself.

  “She isn’t with anyone here, what’s your fucking problem, Oak?” he yells, defending himself.

  “She’s mine.”

  No one says anything and Big Ron steps back, holding his hands up in surrender. I stop trying to free myself of Mark and Micky’s hold and they let me go.

  “Shellie is my old lady and if any of you think she is here for anything but serving your fuckin’ drinks, I’ll break your fuckin’ noses as well.”

  Casting my eyes everywhere, I make sure everyone heard and everyone understands. Finally, I look at Big Ron and one of the women who hangs around regularly hands him a towel for his nose and I don’t feel anything. I don’t giv
e a shit, everyone here knows she has been spending time with me over the last week and tonight, Big Ron took the piss.

  “Um, Oak? I think everyone got the message but you should tell your old lady that she’s your old lady and she just left.”

  Micky’s right, scanning the bar she is nowhere to be seen. A path clears as I head for the door and I jog out into the night to find her pacing beside the clubhouse.

  She sees me coming and jumps in before I can say a word.

  “Why did you say all that in there for? You called me your old lady, John, in front of everyone,” she shrieks, clearly losing it.

  “No one will touch you now, I did it to protect you, and I did it because I want it to be true. You’ve been sleepin’ with me all week, it’s me you’ve been kissing and it’s me who makes you laugh every day. You can’t deny it.”

  She stops and stands in front of me, her eyes searching mine trying to work out if I’m serious.

  “We both know we like each other and the way we’ve been getting to know each other, making you mine was the only outcome for us.”

  “It’s been like eight days, John, how can you be sure you want me?”

  It physically hurts to hear the self-doubt in her voice, the disbelief in her eyes that I wouldn’t want her to be mine.

  “Who cares about how long it’s been, in the last eight days you have made me laugh like I haven’t laughed in years, when I’m not around you I’m thinking about you and when I am around you, I forget everything else exists. Coming back here to you is what I want, knowing you’re mine and no one else’s.”

  Cupping her cheek, she leans into my touch and I bring my other hand up to enclose her face, giving her no choice but to look at me.

  “To fall asleep you curl up in a ball, but once you’re gone and your subconscious sets in, you stretch out and seek me. Your leg entwines with mine and I can’t fall asleep now until I feel your leg with mine. I know each of your smiles, the ones you give for the girls, you’re happy to see them but you hold back. The one you force on when it’s busy in the bar and you’re flustered, but the only one I care about seeing is the smile you hold for me when you see me walk in the room. I know you want me, please don’t say you don’t,” I urge, never wanting anything to go my way this bad before.