Making Her His (Beating the Biker 1)

To the left side was a dark wood bar with high wood stools before it, and a large-screen TV mounted to the far left on the wall behind it. Glass shelves behind the bar held the different liquors Luke spared no expense in stocking. Round tables and chairs were set throughout the room. A step beyond the bar led to the two pool tables there, sitting before the Hades' Spawn logo painted on the wall.

Luke stood behind the bar with a cup of coffee while Spider and Oakie sat at it, drinking drafts. So, it was an executive meeting, was it? They all turned to look at Saks as he entered. Oakie, beneath his unruly white beard and bushy eyebrows, had a sour expression on his face.

Saks took a deep breath and stepped to the bar. “Hey,” he said by way of greeting.

“Hey,” Luke greeted. “Shitty day, eh?” He pulled a draft and set it before Saks.

“You could say that.”

Spider, hunched over his drink, glanced at Saks next to him. Spider was in his late thirties, still trim, with dark brown hair. His day job was insurance adjuster, which Spider never found at odds with his weekend life as a Hades’ Spawn. The Spawn was a social club, not a one-percenter, not into drugs and crime despite the problems the club had suffered. Spider was one constant throughout, which was why last year he took on the job of vice-president after Luke stepped aside.

Or rather was tossed out. That was a painful time, and Saks chose to stand by Luke rather than follow Oakie. Oakie never forgot that, and though Saks was now Road Captain Oakie never warmed up to him again.

Oakland Walker could be a vindictive sonofabitch. It might be something to do with the time he spent in prison. Or his checkered criminal past with the Tucson branch of the Spawn before he came to Connecticut. Hell, maybe he was just made that way.

Saks took a sip of his beer, mindful of the eyes of the three men on him.

“So,” Spider said. “Tell us about it.”

“A state trooper pulled me over on that stretch that runs through the reservoir.”

“The one marked forty miles per hour?” Luke said. They had all driven that road often enough, since it was the only direct route to the Red Bull.

“Yeah.”

“And you were going...” Oakie said, in his gravelly voice.

“The cop said fifty-five.”

“Damn it!” Oakie exploded. He, along with all the Spawn, was aware of the speed trap and the posted speed limit on that stretch of road. The Spawn's president slapped his hand on the counter, making all the beer glasses jump and slosh their liquids.

“It’s bullshit,” Saks said.

“Is that your defense?” Oakie growled. “I told you. I told all you bastards. Keep your shit clean on the road. They’re looking for reasons to put any of us away!”

“Easy, Oakie,” Luke said in a warning voice. The rift between Oakie and Luke hadn’t entirely healed from when Oakie stripped him of his colors. And even though Luke accepted the position as Sergeant-at-Arms last Christmas, he didn’t mind going against Oakie when he felt he should. Luke glanced at Saks. “What did Matt say?”

“That he’d work on it. He’s pretty sure the charges will be dismissed.”

“There, Oakie,” Luke said. “A little pushback isn’t a bad thing. It’ll teach them not to harass us. Because that’s clearly what this is, isn’t it, Saks?”

“I was speeding—” Why’d he take satisfaction in pissing Oakie off? He knew better.

“There,” Oakie spit.

“But only to pass a cage going too slowly on the road.”

“Idiot. Obviously, the driver of that cage spotted something you didn’t,” Oakie snapped.

Saks hadn’t considered that. But, again, if he didn’t have his head so far up his butt, he might have noticed other signs that signaled that a speed trap was in place. Better to admit stupidity than fight like a dumb-ass. “You’re right, Oakie. I wasn’t watching the road like I should.”

Oakie muttered something inaudible into his beer.

“We all,” Spider said, “get distracted sometimes. You got your ass arrested for it. Now you’ll have to be extra careful until these charges are cleared. And the rest of the club will have to, too. One thing we do not want is the Staties putting bullseyes on our backs.”

“You’re right, Spider,” Saks said. “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused.” This last apology nearly stuck in his throat as he spoke it. But he’d made his oath to the Spawn, which bound him to this group. The misdeeds of one stuck to the rest of the group. Something of which Oakie was well-aware. Even though he was cleared of all the crimes that sent him to prison, the stink still clung to him and the rest of the club. This made Saks’ current trouble, a piss in the ocean for anyone else, a big deal. It was going to take a long time before the Spawn shook off that foul odor.

“Okay,” Oakie said, pushing away his half-finished beer. “Keep your shit clean until this is cleared up. Otherwise, I doubt even Matt Stone can make this go away.”