I pull my hand from his quickly, shaking my head of anything ‘stormy skies and bad boy biker’ and climb into the “grocery getter”. I take my sunglasses off and turn toward Shadow to thank him, making sure to throw sarcasm in my tone to show I’m not affected; even though it is a big, fat lie. I am anything but not affected by him. When our eyes lock, his smile instantly falls, his jaw clenches, his body goes stiff and his mouth slightly parts, he looks as if he is seeing a ghost. His change in demeanor catches me by surprise. Before I can ask if something is wrong, he slams the door shut.
What the hell? Maybe he is just an ass, getting off at playing games with my mind. If I have any common sense, I will stay away from him. I place my sunglasses back on my face and turn forward. The way my body screams for the guy contradicts the calmness I’m trying to portray. This is going to suck.
Locks and Shadow follow closely behind us as we leave, the motorcycles sending a thunderous roar in their wake. The two ‘prospects’, as Locks called them, are sitting in front, silent. Their heads are all I can see of them. The one driving has a buzzed Mohawk and the one in the passenger seat is bald with barbed wire tattoos all over his head. My body still feels high from the encounter with Shadow, my skin tingling from every nerve ending. He isn’t even in the car with me and he still manages to send butterflies sputtering chaotically in my abdomen. It’s taking everything I have not to turn and see the ‘sex on wheels’ behind us. I wonder if I will get to ride one of those motorcycles before this is all over. I find the motorcycles sexy and dangerous. Ugh, what is wrong with me? I need to snap out of fantasy land. These guys are criminals and I need to be here for my mother. I have to resist Shadow’s playboy charm, and stay focused.
It’s a short drive before we pull up to a wooded area with a two story building tucked back off the main road. The front has double glass doors with little barred windows here and there. To the right of it is an older tin building with two garages. A parking lot in between the two buildings is littered with motorcycles. As I climb out of the SUV, I hear the rumbling of more bikes. I look over and see Locks and Shadow already getting off their bikes so I know it’s not them. Suddenly, a swarm of black motorcycles pulls up and parks next to Shadow and Locks. The group of outlaws makes my hands tremble with fear. How could my mother think this was safe?
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. How ya been, Lady?” an unfamiliar voice calls out from the gang that just pulled up. A tall, beefy man, ahead of the others, makes his way toward us. He has dark glasses on his face, and black hair that shags around his eyes and ears. He’s wearing a black, ripped shirt with tight blue jeans that tuck into his scuffed boots. His shoulders are broad, and his arms toned and tanned. He reaches down and grabs my mother’s hand and lightly pecks the top of it with his lips. She yanks her hand from his mouth with force. I can almost feel the hatred pouring out of her. My eyes dart to the black leather vest he is wearing.
‘BULL’. ‘PRESIDENT’.
My mind flashes back to Trigger at the airport in New York, he told my mom that this made him and Bull even. This is Bull, this is my father and he is the President of the club. Holy Shit! This is the guy I was always being compared to growing up. The man that paved my road of nothing but disapproving acts; he has made my life hell and doesn’t even know it.
“Still just as charming as ever, aren’t we, Bull,” my mother smarts. ”Say hello to my daughter, Dani.” She gestures her hand toward me. I notice she didn’t say ‘our daughter’.
I try to speak, but my lips won’t move. I feel my heart skip a beat and realize I’m not breathing. What do I even say to a man I know hardly anything about? Whenever I thought of my father I had always envisioned a rock star or a doctor. The president of a motorcycle club was never on my pretend daddy list.
“Well, hello, Darlin’.” He is indeed charming. I put my hand out to shake his and he starts lifting it toward his mouth as he had done with my mother. I slide my glasses off my face and place them on my head to get a better look at the man I am made from. Just before his lips touch the back of my hand, he looks up at me. In an instant his grin fades and his mouth falls open.
“What the fuck is this, Sadie?” he asks, stunned. His eyes snap frantically between my mother and me.
“Obviously she’s your daughter, Bull,” my mother says sarcastically, with a hint of hatred. “I wouldn’t have asked for your help for just myself.”
The whole crowd of bikers gathers around me like I’m a freak of nature, like I’m a science project. I have no idea what they are looking at, but the way everyone is gawking at me has me feeling uncomfortable and pissed.