“Yep.” I said popping the ‘p’.
“You can leave now, we have no more customers expected. Good job today.” It was close to one o’clock, near the time I would knock off.
“Thanks, boss.” I saluted him and rushed upstairs, before he could change his mind. Giggling all the way up. I heard him chuckling as he locked the door below, behind me.
I decided on a quick shower; I didn’t want to smell of oil when going to a party. Put on my skinny black jeans, a black blouse that had red flames on the back and on the pockets, black boots that had some chains around the ankle, and hair in a ponytail. I will get what we call helmet hair, so it’s a waste to do much with it now. I use mascara and strawberry lip gloss, which is more to moisturize my lips, which tend to dry out when I ride my bike, and that’s it. The last thing I grabbed before leaving was my jacket.
My mum used to grumble that I wasn’t like my sister and put more effort into my appearance, but I like who I am, and I didn’t like wearing lots of makeup; it was my choice, and I feel that I am not a frilly, lacey chick. It was a deal breaker with my mum. She had my sister dress up and left me in the care of Grandpa until he died when I was seventeen.
It broke me when he left the world. He was the only person who got me. My grandma had been gone since I was young, and I filled the hole in his heart with my love for bikes and fishing. He left me his money and bikes. Dad got his house and business. My mum hated that I gained all that money. When Grandma died, she left me her jewelry, and Grandpa made sure to keep it safe till I was old enough to have it.
I ate something and put some more of my stuff in the cupboards before my phone chimed to let me know my girlfriends were on their way to the party.
I pulled my bike out of the small garage and started it up. I threw my leg over and took off, heading to the property. The clubhouse was half an hour out of town, set on a large property a little bit back from the road.
Ten minutes later, I came up behind the girls and hung out behind them. My friend waved me on to take the lead. I shrugged and overtook her. The turn off arrived, and I rode happily up the long drive, and trees lined the road. An open, large steel gate appeared, and I was glad it was still enough light to see clearly.
Men stood by the entrance, watching us arrive.
“Hey.” I greeted the biggest man I had ever seen.
“Who invited you here?” The man asked gruffly, in a deep husky voice.
“Bruiser,” I answered, with a firm, clear voice, hoping that the fact that he frightened me would be noticed in my voice.
He pulled out his phone and called, I assumed, Bruiser.
“Max?” He asked, as he looked at me questioningly, and I nodded. He said something more and hung up the phone.
“Come in, the car behind your girls?” He looked at the car behind, which clearly had a woman in it.
“Yep,” I replied, not at all liking how he intimidated me with his manner.
Perhaps it was the way they greeted strangers.
One look makes the weak run.
Well, I am not weak, and I won’t be running.
Maxine POV
This rather large biker leaned in to look inside the car, his bulky figure partially blocking the open window, causing the girl nearest it to back away.
Satisfied, he looked at me with a knowing smirk, then motioned for us to enter.
The clubhouse was nothing like I had imagined. Firstly, it was four levels high. Verandah all the way around, that I could see. It was more like a mansion than a clubhouse.
Women were gathered near the door, looking in, as if they were waiting for something; some were sitting on the wooden fence that surrounded the verandah. They were dressed in barely anything, showing all that was available, some love that sort of thing. People like me dress to stay warm or cool and don’t care about showing off the goods.
Bikes sat in neat rows in front, and cars were parked to the left of the building; the ratio of bikes to cars was approximately four bikes to one car.
I parked the bike with the others, climbed off, and took off my helmet. I placed the lid on the bike and shook out my hair while waiting for the girls to park and come to me. I heard some muffled scoffs, but I couldn’t care less -I wasn’t here to please them.
Bruiser came out of the clubhouse behind me.
“Max, you came by bike. Sweet.” He gave me a gentle squeeze and moved to take a closer look at my bike. The paint job was a wolf, fading in smoke. It took me months to finish, as I kept changing my mind, and the smoke obscured the mistakes.
“Who did the paint job?” He asked as he moved around to look at it from all sides.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.