Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 63

Ezra

[Flashback—7 years ago]

TRIGGER WARNING ‼️ PROCEED WITH CAUTION❗️

>>>

The pit is bustling with so much energy, adrenaline pumping through my veins. There's so much noise, motorcycles headlights flashing through the thick night.

"Ezzy." Pete nods at me, pushing his helmet on his head.

"Where's your brother?" I ask.

"Mitch?"

It's a struggle to hear ourselves with the noise, but we're used to it.

"Yea," I reply. "Do you have another brother?"

He chuckles. "We're all brothers in this MC, Ezzy. You're my brother too, aren't you?"

"Of course I am." I grin.

"Speaking of Mitch..." he points to the blonde-haired man at the top of the podium.

The lights illuminate his features, tattoos crawling up his arms and neck. As usual he's in his president kutte, a permanent scowl on his face.

From this distance, he catches my eye and my spine stiffens, the glint in his eyes chills me.

Mitch is our president, but something tells me he doesn't like me. I tear my eyes away, gloved fingers clutching the handles of my bike.

The flagger, Gwen—Mitch's girl—steps in front of us, holding a red flag and a megaphone.

"Outlaws!" She screams into it and the crowd roars.

Blood rushes through my ears, heart thumping loudly in my chest.

"Ezzy, guess what?" Pete yells over the noise.

I give him a look. "We're about to race, this is not the time to guess."

It's our monthly racing at the pit, and tonight it's Pete and I. There's a lot of bets going on, and the competitive streak in me is pumped up.

"Diane finally said yes to being my girlfriend," he says. "And she let me hit it." He smiles wide, proud of himself.

He's been chasing Diane for the longest time, and I can't help the chuckle that slips past my lips.

"Well, I'm happy for you. You better treat her right."

"Damn right, I will."

Pete and I are friends. He's the closest to me in the gang, but his brother, Mitch, hates my guts. But Pete always tries to assure me he doesn't.

"We've seen your bets," Gwen continues, "and we can only have one winner. Tonight, we have Pete and Ezzy. May the best biker win. Ready!"

She raises the flag.

"Set!"

Pete and I slap down the visor of our helmets, engines revving. The vibration thrums through my thighs, my arms.

I feel on fire!

All other noise blurs out, eyes fixed solely on Gwen and the flag.

She moves out of the way.

"Go!"

The flag comes down and I'm zooming off, Pete right beside me.

I twist the handle bar and I'm speeding past him.

After that, I don't hear anything except the rev of my bike, I don't see anything except the tracks and I don't fucking feel anything except the wind through my clothes.

It's exhilarating, freeing. And god, I love it.

My jaw clenches in concentration, Pete zooming past me, heading toward the last bend for the night.

No fucking way!

I twist harder, literally flying across the tracks, heart in my throat.

And then we're neck and neck, eyes on the bend. A wicked curve that demands respect. I ease off gently on the acceleration but a quick glance at Pete has my stomach twisting.

His bike is leaning into the turn, knees nearly kissing the asphalt.

Pete is a daredevil, always has been. But this is pushing it.

"Pete! Slow down!" I manage to yell.

He looks over.

But that second of distraction...that one second... It happens in slow motion, one moment our bikes are squealing toward the turn, and the next moment...everything crumbles.

I don't see how close I am to Pete until my bike clips his rear wheel, sending both bikes careening out of control.

We're both thrown off, our bikes crashing together in the distance.

I land with a heavy thud on the asphalt, pain shooting up my body, eyes pinched shut.

For a second, I don't hear or feel anything. Not my limbs, not my bones.

Then suddenly, the rest of the world comes back.

The screams, the sound of hurried footsteps, the thick smell of oil and burning asphalt. My mind spins and spins, head throbbing.

"Oh my god! Pete!"

At the sound of the frantic voice, I manage a weak turn of my head in Pete's direction. And what I see has my breath ceasing.

Pete lays unmoving in the distance, helmet nowhere to be found, body twisted in gruesome angles that forces nausea up my throat.

I throw my helmet off, and push through the pain to my feet.

"Pete..." I fall by his side, placing two fingers on his neck. There's a pulse, but it's weak.

That's when I see the blood leaking from the back of his head.

My heart thuds and I scramble to my feet, limbs trembling as I face the crowd running toward us.

"We need an ambulance!" I yell.

>>Two Days After<<

Sweat rolls down my body, my breathing rugged.

"Mitch, please," I beg.

A thick lump settles in my throat, pulse thumping wildly, and eyes wide as I stare at Pete's brother and two of his goons.

He blows a smoke in my face, lips curled into a sneer. "Pete will never be himself again, Ezzy. Do you know that?"

"Mitch..."

"My baby brother will never walk again," he says with a dry chuckle, the bon fire casting a glow on his face in the dark.

He grips my jaw, squeezing. "He will never think for himself, never eat by himself. He's gonna be in a chair for the rest of his life, pushed around like some wet log. Do. You. Know. That?"

I swallow.

We heard the news. Pete sustained a severe head injury, one bad enough to render him both immobile and...incompetent.

Everyone watches the scene, holding their breath. The air is thick with tension.

I'm pinned down in the middle of the yard after being beaten to a pulp, and stripped off my kutte in the most humiliating way possible.

Blood trickles down my busted nose. "I'm s-sorry, Mi—"

"I always suspected you hated Pete, but to ruin his life?" He spits. "You destroyed my brother, and he called you a friend."

"It was an accident, Mitch. I swear." My voice is choked, broken.

A hand smacks me across the face.

"Shut up!" He screams. "You know what? I'm done talking. If my brother can't walk, you have no right to either."

He takes a heavy hammer from his VP.

My breath ceases.

Realization dawns on me, throat drying.

"Mitch." My heart pounds. "Mitch, please. Fuck, it was an accident. I swear, I love your brother."

The words tumble out of my lips with an urgency, hoping I could make him see it was all just an accident.

But it's only wishful thinking.

He steps on the butt of his cigarette, and gives a single nod to the men with him. They wrestle me to the ground, and I fight.

God, I fight with all my might. I thrash in their hold, kicking and screaming, pleading.

"Mitch, Mitch...please..."

But I don't win, how can I?

Mitch palms the hammer, my eyes widen. Two of the men pin my legs to the ground, and I know that I'm doomed.

Maybe I deserve it. It's my fault.

If I didn't get too close, if my bike hadn't clipped his wheel...just maybe Pete will not be cooped up in that hospital, attached to wires... It should've been me.

So with resignation, tears burning the back of my eyes, I accept my fate, bracing myself for what Mitch is about to do.

And he does it.

The heavy hammer comes down hard on my left knee cap.

The scream that rips from my throat is raw, guttural, and the pain...god, the pain.

He doesn't stop there, no.

It comes down again, on my shin, on my thigh. And I'm just screaming, roaring. Sweat trickling down my bare back, soaking my briefs.

Nausea rolls in my stomach, as he hits me. He hits with so much hatred, vengeance.

When he stops, I can't stop screaming. My left leg is on fire, it's limp. I can't wiggle my toes.

Tears fall effortlessly from my eyes.

Just when he's about to destroy my right leg, the sharp sound of sirens echo in the distance.

"Shit! The cops, Mitch!" Someone shouts.

Mitch cusses, glaring at me. "I'll be back, Ezzy. And the next time...you're dead."

And just like that, my right leg is saved. Everyone scrambles, except me.

But I try. I have to.

God, it hurts. Everything hurts. My face, my chest, my legs.

Yet, I crawl on my belly.

It's slow, excruciating...and I'm so fucking tired.

I'm the only one left on the yard, no one cared to help.

When I know I can't take it anymore, I stop, my breaths heavy.

If I'll be arrested like this, or shot to death...would it not be better?

"EJ!"

That voice. I know that voice.

And so, I look up.

Tears fill my eyes immediately when I see him.

"AJ," I choke out. My little brother, my baby brother who has no business being here. "The c-cops are coming."

He frowns, but I see the tears in his eyes. "I stole a cop car. I was the one that blared the siren." He helps me up. "Come on, I've got you."

[End Of Flashback]