The Billionaire's Secret Love Child(43)

“No!” Rebecca yelled out, as Hull fell to the gravel. She dropped beside him, pulled his head up into her lap. She had no way of knowing at that point, but a doctor would tell her that night, that the blade had pierced both his kidney and his lung. It had been placed in the worst spot it could, and Hull had no hope.

He was looking up at her with glassy eyes.

“He’s a f*cking cheater,” Hull said, and he tried to smile but he couldn’t. Perhaps he knew there was nothing to smile about, there was nothing anyone could do to keep him alive.

“You’re fine,” Rebecca said, hoping against hope. Not far away a couple of massive bikers were holding Jason down, kicking the shit out of him. She thought they might kill him, pissed off about his cowardice, and she found herself hoping they would.

“I love you,” Hull said, his voice shaky and sounding as if he was far away.

“I love you too. Be quiet. Someone will call an ambulance.

Hull opened his mouth as if to say something else, but he never did. His eyes darkened, his last breath came out in a ragged sigh, and then he was gone, his blood pooling around him and the woman he loved.

Rebecca cried. That night, the next, and for a hundred after it. The men did end up beating Jason to death, and then The Hammers spent the time to dispose of both bodies themselves, to keep the police from being involved. Jason and Hull just became two men missing, never to be found. Wesel became the president of the club, and he visited with Rebecca, making sure she would stay on as club mechanic. She told him she would. She had nothing in her life other than The Hammers now. The club had taken everything from her, until it was the only thing left standing. She rode her bike, she fixed her club’s bikes up, and motorcycles became her life once more. It was the only thing she could do to keep her mind off of everything. As long as she lived, she would never be able to mend her own broken heart. But a motorcycle was loud enough to drown it all out, even a broken heart.

*****

THE END





Bad Boy Biker’s BRIDE – A MC Biker Romance


Five years is a long time. It would have been longer if my mother hadn’t up and got sick. She was an old bat, crazy as they come, and to me, she always seemed invincible when I was younger. I guess I was wrong.

I hated her while I was growing up. We never saw eye to eye. She was devout and resolute in her beliefs. I was always the carefree spirit, ready to hit the road when the whim took me. She probably hated that about me, kept wanting me to settle down and start a family. She should have known that just wasn’t who I was.

When the taxi dropped me off in front of the old house, I wanted nothing more than to set the place on fire and leave, almost did when I was younger. Too many memories were made in this house, and most of them I wished I could forget.

The house looked as it always had, run down but taken care of. The paint was faded and cracking, and the windows were so grimy they couldn’t be seen through. The small white picket fence was still there, almost entirely knocked over now.

I wondered what my dad would think of it after all these years. I always thought of his grizzled face staring down at me from whatever cloud he was sitting on; judging as he always had. I’d still received messages from him the entire time I was away, but they stopped after he caught a bullet. I guess if you live as loud as he did, you’d end up in a grave sooner rather than later.

“Hey momma,” I shouted from the front door.

“Tara, is that you?” she replied from the den.

I clomped around the house in my old motorcycle boots till I found her.

“Yeah, it’s me, momma. How you feelin’?” I asked.

“How the hell do you think I’m feeling? I can barely get up to take a piss. Get over here and give your momma a hug,” she said.

I learned from an early age that you don’t say no when your mother asks you to do something. I leaned over her and gave her a solid embrace.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked.

“You can get me the last twenty years of my life back; that would do it,” she laughed only to start hacking and coughing.

I patted her back in a vain attempt to help her. I looked through her prescriptions; one of which was empty, looked like painkillers.

“How about you just get me a refill on that before my aches start acting up again? I was just going to watch TV anyway.”

“Alright, momma. I’ll be back.”

“I think your old bike is still in the garage, if you want to use that to get around. I haven’t had a car for a couple of years now.”

“I’m glad you never got rid of it,” I said.

“Some things you can’t get rid of,” she replied.

I gave her a kiss on the forehead and took the pill bottle, tucking it into my pocket.

I went back outside and circled around to the old garage. My dad’s old car was still sat there, waiting for someone to care. I eyed my old motorcycle, peeking out from behind a canvas sheet I’d thrown over it years ago.

My hand moved automatically, tugging the sheet away. She was a killer ride, and I wondered how I’d gone so long without her in my life. The day to day just didn’t have the same feel as it had when I was younger and more irresponsible.

I ran my hand along the gas tank, wiping away the layers of dirt she was covered in. She wasn’t the biggest bike, nor was she the fastest, but she was mine, and that was all that mattered.