The Biker's Fate Chapter 656

Waverly Anderson

Having been assaulted by bikers at a college party, I steer clear from anyone on a motorcycle, but when my best friend falls for a biker, I find myself having a crisis of faith, and sanity. Little did I know, my newest physical therapy client is hiding his true identity from me, and my whole world is about to be turned on its axis.

Gio 'Razor' Rossi

My club's on the verge of war and I'm being forced to hide who I am in order to stay under the radar. The problem is, I've just met a woman who deserves to know every part of me. Even if it means risking everything.

Razor

"FUCK YOU!" I bellowed from my place on the floor.

Pain shooting up my leg, so bad I thought I might puke.

Jesus, I'd never felt anything like it.

I dropped my head to the carpet and took a few deep breaths, before glaring at my walker which was now no less than six feet from me. Exactly where it had fallen sideways because I'd toppled over when my cast had caught a piece of trim that was pulling away from the wall. And I'd toppled over because I was plastered from the tip of my dick to tip of my toes, and I had no sense of balance, therefore I couldn't stop myself from falling flat on my ass, which ironically, was the only part of my body that wasn't bruised or broken.

At least it was.

Technically, I was so fucked up, I wasn't even supposed to be trying to use a walker, but I had to piss, so the call of nature overrode my better judgment.

Fuckin' cunt Gloria and her obsession with Cash had done this and now I might never ride again.

Four weeks ago…

I was sitting in the great room with Jamie, Hatch's youngest kid, shooting the shit when Hatch barreled into the room. "Where's my wife?"

"In the kitchen I think," Jamie said. "Everything okay?"

"It's officially Fuckuary, if any one of you assholes bugs either of us in the next two hours, I'll cut your dicks off."

"Jesus, Dad, too much information."

"Make it three!" he growled, and stalked toward the kitchen.

"What the hell is 'Fuckuary'?" one of the recruits asked. His name was Johnny and he was on the cusp of getting kicked out. I highly doubted he'd make it to prospect, mostly because he didn't know when to shut his goddammed mouth.

Jamie dragged his hands down his face with a groan. "Dad declared a few years ago that February was the month he was gonna fuck my mom every day of the week and we better be prepared not to need her because we monopolize her throughout the holidays, and then it's back to school shit in January for the grandkids, and she's always being asked to help. Hence, Fuckuary."

"If my old lady was as hot as his, every month would be Bonetober," Johnny murmured.

Case in point.

Before I could comment how that was the exact wrong thing to say, Flea, my Sergeant at Arms, had already sent him to the floor with a punch that would have knocked a smaller man unconscious.

"What the fuck, bro?" he snapped, wiping blood from his mouth. "It was just a joke."

"First of all, you're not my bro, and the only joke around here is you," Flea hissed. "I've had my doubts about you from the beginning and now I know why. Pack up your shit and get the fuck outta here."

"I thought this was a fuckin' motorcycle club," he sneered getting up. "Not a daycare center."

"I don't wanna see you around here again. In fact, I don't wanna see you on the street," Flea growled. "When you see our colors, you better run."

I made my way over to them and stepped in front of Johnny. "Let's go, asshole. Don't make it worse than it already is."

Johnny spit blood at my feet, then stormed out of the club.

Flea turned to Grip. "Grip! Clean up this goddamn floor before Hatch kills all of us."

"You got it, boss," he said, and headed for the supply closet.

I shook my head and made my way to the kitchen. Cash and I were supposed to be having a beer, but he'd gone AWOL, so I went looking for him, finding him standing against the counter, staring at his phone. "Are we havin' that beer or what?"

"Gloria's stranded somewhere. Car's crapped out on her. She's asked if I can come see what's wrong with it."

I frowned. "That bitch, man. She'll try anything to get in your pants."

"I really think she's in a tight spot, brother."

"Jesus," I hissed. "Come on, I'll go with you. We'll take one of the mobile trucks."

We headed out, arriving to the location Gloria had texted Cash, and I saw her car with the hood up, parked on a narrow frontage road near an industrial complex.

"Why the fuck's her hood up?" I grumbled. "Did she think she was going to be able to fix it herself?"

Cash shrugged as he pulled up behind her car. "The day I know what the hell Gloria's thinkin' I want you to put a bullet in the back of my head. Come on, let's get this over with. I want to get home and back in bed before Teagan knows I was ever gone."

We hopped out and Gloria hugged Cash, giving him a relieved smile. "My hero. Thank you so much for coming to my rescue."

"Okay, okay," he said, pulling away. "Let's see what's wrong with your car."

No sooner had he gotten the words out of his mouth, than a black panel van came screeching to a halt beside us. Cash grabbed for his knife at his side but was bum-rushed by three Spiders before he even had a chance to pull it out.

"What the fuck?" he snarled as they zip-tied his arms behind his back and threw him in the van.

Outside the van, I did my best to stand my ground, but I was eventually overtaken by the Spiders. The names on their cuts read 'Slammer' and 'Tiny.' Trunk jumped in at some point as well, because I almost had the upper hand.

"What do we do with this guy, Trunk?" Slammer asked, pointing to me, despite the fact I was still struggling, despite bleeding from several places on my face. "Kill him?"

"Fuck him up but not so bad he can't crawl back home," Trunk said. "Warlock wants to send a message. Vega, Gloria, you come with me and Loverboy here."

Then the door whooshed shut and drove away.