Burnt Rubber: Adults Only Motorcycle Club Romance: Roadrunners MC (9 page)

“I thought you were in for the rest of the day,” the woman behind the desk commented with a smirk.

“You’re not the only one,” Angela replied. “But duty calls, so go ahead and mark me out for now.”

“You won’t be back in under an hour then?” the woman joked.

“No chance,” Angela said before letting herself out of the office and heading towards the elevator. For a brief moment, she wondered if she would even be coming back at all.

The early evening darkness was starting to take the blue from the sky and as the gloom descended, Marion wondered how Six could even see the road ahead without lights. Then again, calling the route they were taking a road was probably more than it deserved. It seemed to be no more than a dirt track, and her butt was beginning to ache from the bumpy ride she’d endured for the last couple of hours.

She guessed they were staying off the main highways to reduce the chances of being caught, but it seemed a dangerous way to travel now that it was getting dark. There was no point in avoiding the Mob and the authorities just to end up wrapped around a tree on some backcountry track. Six eventually brought the Harley to a stop when they reached the junction with a tarmac road. He put the kickstand down and Marion released her grip on him to get off the vehicle. She rubbed at her buttocks then put her hands on her hips and pushed her shoulders back to stretch out her spine.

“Bumpy ride getting to you?” Six asked.

Even in the growing twilight of dusk, Marion saw the grin the comment brought to his face. It made her think about telling him to fuck off, but she resisted it to just nod her head.

“I hope you’re about to tell me we’ll be turning on to that road,” she said and motioned her head towards the flat tarmac.

“Unfortunately not,” he told her. “Too much risk of running into someone we don’t want to meet. The dirt tracks are pretty much ignored by the cops, so we have a better chance of making it across the border.”

“How much longer will that be?” Marion asked.

Six eased up the cuff of his leather jacket to look at his watch.

“I reckon we should be there in another thirty to forty minutes,” he replied.

Marion let out a groan and rubbed at her ass again.

“If you need any help there, I’ll gladly oblige,” Six joked.

Her retort was instant and there was no holding in the bad language this time.

“Fuck off; I can manage, thanks.”

The slight trickle of fear was immediate at cursing out a Roadrunner, but a glance at Six showed he was lighting a cigarette and paying her no attention as he gazed along the road. The dropping temperature was making it cooler by the minute, and Marion hugged her arms around her chest as she waited for him to finish his cigarette. He saw what she was doing when he turned his attention away from the road.

“Are you struggling there?” he asked.

“I’ll survive,” she replied without thinking.

“Are you sure about that?” Six went on. “Going up against Jake Fiori doesn’t exactly give you the best chance of reaching your next birthday.”

“I didn’t exactly go up against him,” Marion let out. “All I did was stumble on something I shouldn’t have. If I could return to last night, I would run the other way.”

“Yeah… it would be good if we could change our mistakes that easily,” he commented.

His voice sounded surprisingly downcast when he spoke and she looked to see him staring down at his feet.

“Made many, have you?” she asked and saw the rueful smile pass across his face when he glanced up at her.

“One or two along the way,” he answered and threw the finished cigarette down then stamped on it. “We should get going.”

“Can you put the lights on before we die?” Marion said.

“I will as soon as we’re out of sight of this road,” he told her.

He removed his leather jacket when he returned to the motorcycle and held it out to her.

“You don’t have…” Marion started.

“Just take it,” he interrupted brusquely.

“Thanks,” she told him as she did.

Putting it on took the edge off the growing chill, and she appreciated the gesture. She waited until Six got on the bike before following suit. It was easier to wrap her arms around him when he wasn’t wearing the leather jacket, and she was more aware of how muscular his torso was when she held on.

“Just so you know,” he said over his shoulder as he raised the kickstand, “biker rules state that wearing my jacket means you’ve agreed to be my woman.”

“What the fu…”

Marion’s surprised curse was lost in the roar of the engine coming to life and Six’s laughter. All she could do was hang on as he gunned the engine to get them moving. They crossed the road and he eventually put the headlight on a short while after. Forty minutes seemed like an eternity as the track got even more uneven and bumpy, but they crossed the state border without incident and eventually found their way to a highway. It made for a smoother ride, but after only ten minutes they took an exit off it and after a number of turns came to a stop in the almost deserted parking lot of a dingy looking roadside bar.

Marion saw the truck that Six’s compatriot sped off in when they were under fire at the apartment and guessed the bar was a prearranged meeting spot. She removed the helmet and leather jacket when she dismounted the Harley and handed them over.

“Not so keen on being my woman then?” Six joked and smirked.

“You wish,” Marion replied then looked at the run-down condition of the building. “Do you bring all your women to such pretty places?”

“No,” he replied and his smile grew wider. “I save special places like this for the ones I love.”

“Yeah, right,” Marion said and shook her head.

She followed as he walked to the entrance of the bar and stepped through the door. The interior of the place was no nicer than the grubby outside and looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in months. The stale smell seemed even worse than the bar she met Carrie in that morning. They stopped to look around and Crash caught their attention by lifting the bottle of beer he was holding. They stepped across to the small booth he was sitting in, and it was only then they saw he wasn’t alone.

“Shit,” Six let out when he saw Carrie tucked in against the wall. “Didn’t I say you weren’t coming?” He looked at Crash, who just shrugged his shoulders.

“There was someone shooting,” Carrie replied. “I couldn’t get out of the truck, could I?”

“You didn’t need to be in it in the first place,” Six pointed out and shook his head. “You’re as bad as her,” he went on and motioned his head towards Marion. “She doesn’t listen either.”

“It’s too late now,” Crash said. “Sit down and I’ll go order us some drinks.”

He got up straight away to move off and Six shook his head again when he sat down, then slid along the seat. There was no choice for Marion but to get in beside him, and there was silence for a while before Six spoke.

“You need to start doing what I tell you, Carrie,” he said as he stared across the table.

“I’m twenty years old and you’re not my dad,” she countered with a smirk.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean you’re too old to be put over my knee,” Six said.

“Promises, promises,” Carrie mocked him then turned her attention to Marion. “You better watch him. I’ve heard he’s into that kind of kinky shit.”

“Shut up,” Six told her.

“I’m not watching anyone,” Marion said. “I just want out of this mess.”

It was at that moment Crash returned to the table carrying four bottles of beer. He put one down in front of everyone then sat.

“Did you have any problems?” Six asked then lifted his bottle to take a long drink of beer.

“We passed a few cop cars when we got closer to the border,” Crash replied. “But we got off the main highway before crossing and everything was clear. How did you get on?”

“We pretty much stayed on country tracks and saw nothing,” Six replied.

“What do you plan to do now?” Crash queried.

“This place has rooms, so we might as well just hole up here for the night,” Six answered. “Anyone that’s looking for us will more than likely do so on the main routes across the border. If we stay off them when we get going tomorrow morning, we should make it to one of the safe houses without any hitches. We’ll worry about what we do after that when we get there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Crash said.

Just as he finished speaking, an older woman came across to the table carrying a tray. She put it down and the plates and cutlery were taken off it before she walked back across the bar. Crash picked up a fork to tuck in straight away. Carrie picked up a fork, but just used it to pick at the food on her plate.

“What is it?” she asked and laughed.

“I think it probably started life as lasagna,” Six joked as he tried a mouthful.

“It tastes OK,” Crash said.

“You smoke and drink so much that everything probably tastes OK to you,” Carrie teased him.

“Just shut up and eat,” he retorted.

“Yes, boss,” Carrie said and a smile spread across her face.

Marion glanced around the place and suspected that what was on her plate was as good as it got. It was the first time she’d really considered food since the evening before and her hunger pushed her to pick up a fork. It turned out Crash was right and while it might not have five star presentation, the lasagna did taste OK. She was the last to finish and she picked up her beer afterwards.

“So what do we do for the rest of the evening?” she asked when she put the bottle down.

“This place is dull,” Carrie commented. “Let’s put on some music”

She nudged her elbow in Crash’s side to make him get out of her way, and he watched as she walked across to the worn-looking jukebox in the corner of the bar.

“Just relax and enjoy your drink,” Six said as he looked at Marion.

She stared at him as if he was crazy and couldn’t believe just how calm he appeared.

“How the hell can I relax when…”

“Fucking prick,” Crash let out in a harsh voice and jumped to his feet.

Six glanced across the bar to where a drunk was hitting on Carrie at the jukebox.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath then turned to Marion. “Get out of the way now.”

She was quick to slide to the edge of the seat and got up. Six was on his feet in an instant.

“Stay here,” he told her and hurried after his friend.

Marion kept her eyes on the unfolding drama when she sat down. Between Crash’s angry curse and hurried walk, Marion already knew what was about to happen. He grabbed the man’s shoulder to spin him around and raised his clenched fist just as Six got to them. It appeared that violence was about to erupt and the inebriated man would take a severe beating… but it didn’t happen.

Marion’s eyes opened wide as she watched the man that brought her to the bar grabbing his friend’s arm to stop the punch being thrown, and a few words brought the incident to an abrupt end. Six put his arm around the drunken man’s shoulder to quickly lead him away from the jukebox and take him across to the long serving counter. A couple of beers were ordered, with the pair of them drinking and chatting for a minute or two before the encounter ended.

“I didn’t see that coming,” Marion said when Six returned to the table and sat across from her.

“What?” he said as he picked up his beer from the table. “Violence isn’t always the answer.”

“I’m not sure Crash would agree,” she replied.

“Probably not,” Six agreed. “But wasn’t it so much easier the way I handled it?”

“Well, yeah,” she said and watched him take a drink.