Home>>read Cocky Biker free online

Cocky Biker(6)

By:Faleena Hopkins

“Striker,” Fuse chuckles. “It might stick.”

Grinning, I mount my bike, feeling the warmth of a sun-heated seat on my balls. “Fuck you guys.”

“She was worth the try,” Honey Badger laughs, his large belly bouncing as he jumps on his ride. His little helmet on that big head and body is always an interesting contrast, but no one would ever say that aloud. Despite his rotund appearance, Honey Badger earned that name. He can be vicious. Not with us. But we don’t get on his bad side…like pointing out how he should get a bigger helmet.

“We’re only gonna be here a couple nights,” Scratch tells me from his hog. “That woman? She’s the type who’d make you stick around.”

“Let’s drop it. We’ve got better things to do.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that,” Fuse laughs.

I shake my head at his joke and turn on the ignition.

The roar of our engines harmonize, and one after the other, we cruise up Ventura Boulevard in search of our next temporary home. We never stay at the same place when we visit a city for a second, third or fourth time, unless there’s only that one option. Definitely not the case in a metropolitan city like this one.

In Sherman Oaks, mere blocks west of where we ate, Scratch pulls into a motel that’s cleaner than any you’d find in those forgotten towns along lonely highways.

“I can use a good shower,” I tell my chosen brothers as the engines die, thinking it’ll be a cold one with that feral pussy still on my mind.

Scratch announces to the group. “With what we’re about to face, you’re all gonna need more than that.”


Shoving the photograph into the girl’s terrified face, I keep my voice hushed, as I demand, “Where is he? You recognize him! I can see the fear in your eyes!”

She’s fragile, just like they all are when they’ve been with him too long. “No!” she insists, shaking her head with big brown eyes darting back the way she came.

In the kitchen on the opposite side of this door are the distinctive sounds of men and women cooking a feast for one of the busiest restaurants in Sherman Oaks.

Everyone talks about Beverly Hills and Bel Air. Yeah, there are powerful people there. Wealth that would make you shit yourself if you found out how much.

But this city, Sherman Oaks, tucked into the valley-side of the mountain, is filled with money and power unnoticed. It’s less obvious — therefore the perfect place to hide.

But I found him.

He’s here.

Not in this restaurant even though he owns it. But he lives not far from where I stand. I can almost smell the rank odor of his cologne, I’m so close.

Standing here in the tiny section that separates the back alley door and the rear entrance to the kitchen, I pull out my gun and point it at her. “No more lies. Do I look like a patient woman to you?”

Trembling, she levels me with a stare that sends shivers into my bones. “If he knew I told you, he would do worse. Kill me. Please kill me! It’s my only way out.”

I blink in horror because I recognize what I saw in my mother’s eyes when I was just a child. It’s as familiar to me as cookies and bedtime stories are to someone else more fortunate than I.

Releasing overwhelming pain from my lungs, I lower the gun. “If you tell me, I will kill him. You’ll never have to be afraid again.”

She crumbles. “Where would I go? I don’t know anyone. I have no one.”

“You’d find a way.” I steal a quick glance through the kitchen door window to make sure no one’s coming yet. “You’re a woman. It’s in your blood to be strong. You can handle more than you think. We all can. We have for centuries. Now tell me where he is.”

A click happens behind those scared eyes of hers. I see it. She heard me and while her tortured, captive mind doesn’t believe me, there’s a sliver in her soul that knows what I said is true.

She whispers an address and my eyes close with relief.

“Are you going to warn him I’m coming?”

“He’d know I told you!”

I stop her from explaining more by biting off her next sentence. “Good! Don’t. I want it to be a surprise. I’ll keep my promise. You’ll be free soon. You all will.”

An eruption of unusual noises comes from the kitchen. Through a window I see one of the cooks go flying.

“He’s here!” The girl clutches my hip as though she is my child.

I aim my gun at the door and attempt to see more from this vantage point.

Why would he destroy his own place with a restaurant full of upper-class witnesses? Some of the wealthiest and well-connected people in town?