It Ain't Me, Babe

The confused faces of the club members began to suffocate me, and my hands set to tremble. Rider’s denim-covered leg was flush next to mine and I felt him stiffen at my words. I did not understand what was wrong with them all. Was my upbringing that peculiar to them all? By their shocked expressions, I surmised it was.

“I… I ran away, found a way out and got injured as I did so. That is how I hurt my leg,” I added quickly.

AK leaned forward. “And how the f**k did you find us? We live in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t sent here, were you? Some us have some real suspicions ’bout a bitch turning up outta the blue, setting up camp at the compound.”

“No… no… I… A woman in a truck found me on a deserted road and after a couple of hours traveling, I felt sick, due to my injury, so I asked her to let me out where we were. The clubhouse was the closest thing nearby, so I made my way there. The next thing I remember was waking up in bed… in Styx’s room.” I pointed in Styx’s direction but did not look his way.

“And how d’you know Prez? That was quite the reunion in the bar and he ain’t saying shit about it or about why he’s protecting you. You open those long-ass pins and pu**y-trap him? You convince him to let you stay with a good f**k?” Viking asked. The other brothers laughed at his crude comment. I dropped my mouth and hesitated in my answer when, suddenly, Viking looked up with his palms thrust out, shuffling back against a rock.

Turning around, I saw Styx behind me, his white T-shirt off and tucked into the waistband on his jeans, a frightening look of fury on his face. I squirmed as I stared up at his wide bare chest, muscles bulging under taut skin. His shoulders were perfectly formed, every inch of skin covered in colored tattoos. His stomach; Lord, his stomach was outlined with hard packets of muscle. Beads of sweat trickled into the low waistband of his jeans and down a deep, defined V on his lower abdomen. I suddenly felt too hot in my leathers. Blushing, I caught Beauty’s knowing gaze at my reaction but Rider’s expression of concern.

“Fine, I’ll leave it,” Viking said, interrupting my impure thoughts.

I faced the redheaded giant of a man and answered, “I do not know him, not really and especially not the way you are suggesting. He is kind and gentle to me, though. I like him very much.”

It seemed as if tens of breaths were held in unison as Styx’s hazel gaze collided with mine. Suddenly, a peel of laughter let rip, snapping us both out of our reverie.

“Gentle? Kind? Fuck, she don’t know him too well at all!” AK staggered to his feet, clearly having had too much to drink, waving his bottle of liquor in his hands, shirt off, jeans unbuttoned at the top, a huge cross tattooed on his chest. “He’s the f**kin’ Hangmen Mute, the giver of permanent smiles!”

Ky stomped over to AK. Walking straight up to him, Ky punched AK square in the face, knocking him to the ground. As Ky hovered above AK’s out-cold body, he hissed loudly, “Shut the f**k up. I’m tired of your damn voice!”

I did not realize how close I had shifted to Rider for protection and I blushed when I found myself sitting in the warm curve of his stomach, his arm behind, but not touching, my back. A rustle of leaves attracted my attention and I turned only to see the heavily tattooed back of Styx entering the thick forest, leaving us all behind. My heart dropped in sadness.

“Stop what y’all are doing!”

A man wearing a beige uniform came on unsteady feet through the north of the trees, a large rifle shaking in his thin arms. “You’re not allowed vehicles on this land, so I’m gonna have to ask y’all to leave.”

Ky threw back his head and laughed, Viking and Flame flanking him, doing the same. “Well, if it isn’t Ranger Fuckin’ Smith!” Ky barked out.

Viking strutted forward, ignoring the safety of the gun clicking. “Where’s Yogi, busy butt-fuckin’ Boo-Boo?” I had no idea what he was talking about, but it seemed humorous to the brothers and women around me.

Viking met the man up close, his chest flush to the end of the rifle’s barrel. “Run along, little ranger, before we stop playin’ nice. You’re lucky you caught us on a f**kin’ good day.”

The man’s eyes darted anxiously around the group, all the men casually standing on their feet, the girls carrying on talking and drinking as though oblivious to the threat of Viking being shot through the chest at any moment.

“I’ll… call th-the police!” he threatened weakly, falling over his words.

Ky threw up his hands. “Oh no! Not the police!” He smiled his devastatingly handsome smile and said, “Go ahead. They’re all on the f**kin’ payroll anyway. They won’t do shit. They, unlike you, you jumped-up little runt, know not to f**k with the Hangmen.”