CULVER: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (3 page)

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6
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The night was warm, and the strip was packed with bodies in varying
states of inebriation. Boon led us, swerving left and right, down side-streets
and alleys. As we walked, we allowed ourselves to be swept away in the
beautiful night and our own semi-drunk states, singing at the top of our lungs
and laughing all the way. Becky was a little sketched out, but I had to admit I
was proud of her for even making it this far. Generally, Becky liked to stay
close to the shore.

Finally, we arrived at a small, seedy-looking bar that had rows upon rows
of motorcycles parked out front. The neighborhood was comparatively quiet, for
Las Vegas at least, and I worried for a second about being able to find our way
home.
Or being raped and left for dead,
said
the worrying voice in the very back of my head. I pushed it away and followed
Boon into the dimly lit bar, the smell of cigarettes and old beer assaulting my
nostrils as soon as I entered.

There were probably thirty or so older men sitting around the bar, which
had two female bartenders. Everyone was dressed in black leather. This was the
first time I’d ever been in a “biker bar”, and I found myself blushing. Alicia,
Becky, and I definitely didn’t fit in with our short party dresses and high
heels. Every man in the bar turned to look at us as the door slammed shut
behind us. They were all smiling, some innocently, some not-so-innocently.

It seemed like Boon knew everyone in the bar; he walked from table to
table giving out high-fives and handshakes. We all followed; I could feel
Becky’s anxiety baking off her, while Alicia, to her credit, acted like she
totally belonged there, not a care in the world. Finally, we found ourselves at
the long bar.

“What’ll it be?” Asked the young, attractive bartender, giving Boon a
huge smile. I tried not to notice the way she rolled her eyes a bit when she
glanced at me and my friends.

“Four of your cheapest beers, please, ma’am,” Boon said, smiling back at
the bartender, his impossibly white teeth gleaming in the dim lighting. That
smile…it made me forget where I was, who I was with, what I was doing.

The bartender doled out one beer apiece and we moved to the back of the
bar, taking a table that was already occupied by two younger guys, probably in
their late twenties.

“We got any grass to spare?” Boon said, not even introducing us or his
friends. The two guys looked Alicia, Becky, and I over slowly, taking their
time with each one of us, their feelings about us not concealed at all. They
were impressed. And maybe a little hopeful.
Dream
on, boys,
I thought, sipping my beer. Becky was never going to give anything
to someone who wouldn’t call her his girlfriend, and Alicia might be a
boy-loving party-girl but she wasn’t exactly a slut, either. And me, well, I
already knew who I was planning on ending the night with.

“For you? Sure. Always, my man,” one of the boys said, leaning back and
pulling a baggie full of odorous green stuff from his back pocket. He threw it
on the table, not a care in the world about the fact that marijuana is, in
fact, still very illegal in the state of Nevada. Boon picked up the baggie and
held it to his nose, breathing deeply.

“Ah, shit, this is that Bubblegum stuff, isn’t it? That we got from the
Rattlesnakes? This is perfect. Anyone got papers?” Boon looked at the three of
us and winked, that smile still lighting up his face. I felt woozy, and it
wasn’t from the beer or the weird environment.

The guy who had thrown the weed on the table pulled a package of rolling
papers out of the other pocket and tossed them to Boon, who began to pick at
the marijuana.

“So, you girls indulge often?” He asked, his attention fairly focused on
the joint he was rolling.

“Never, actually. This is just for Alicia here. It’s her goal for the
trip,” I said, leaning forward and admiring Boon’s nimble fingers and the flick
of his tongue over the paper.

“Oh? And what are your goals, ladies?” Asked the other boy at the table,
the one who hadn’t spoken yet. His eyes glimmered like he was expecting
something crazy to come out of our mouths. Something like “have a six-person
orgy in the backroom of a biker bar,” I’d assume.

“I just wanted to gamble. And I did. I lost twenty bucks,” Becky said,
finally relaxing as she sipped her beer and leaned back into the seat.

“And you, Samantha?” Boon asked, finally meeting my eyes as he finished
up with the joint. I blushed, my heart racing, as I tried to decide whether or
not to lie. I decided that this trip was about growth. Old Samantha would be
embarrassed and lie. New Samantha was better than that.

“Make out with a stranger,” I said, as boldly as I could manage.

A wicked grin passed over Boon’s face. He held the joint out to Alicia,
his eyes not moving from my own. “Ladies first,” he said, brandishing a lighter
as Alicia held the joint to her lips.

“Right here in the bar?” Becky asked, mouth open in a comical look of
shock.

“Trust me, honey, don’t no one here give a damn,” said one of the other
boys. I noticed they were both looking at me with a similar look to the one
Boon was giving me, and it made me blush even harder.

Alicia took a deep inhale and immediately began coughing and gagging;
Becky pounded on her back while the boys laughed and several other men at the
bar turned to our table.

“Try again, little sister, and this time hold it in,” Boon said. There
was something in his voice that was so patient and kind that it really
contrasted his bad-boy appearance. I felt my heart melting just a little more.

Alicia sucked in again, this time holding in the smoke, then exhaled
loudly, a plume of fragrant smoke rising over the table. The three boys
applauded, joined by some other patrons who were watching, and Alicia beamed,
handing the joint back to Boon. He sucked in deeply before passing to the boy
who had provided the weed. The joint made its way around the table and Alicia
hit it once more, her eyes glassy. She was giggling pretty much non-stop, and
the boys were looking at her in amusement.

“So, what do you think?” Boon said at last, taking a deep inhale of his
own.

“I like it. I feel goofy. Everything is slowed down. You guys should try
it,” Alicia said, her words coming out slurry but clear, turning to us with a
huge grin on her face. Becky rolled her eyes and looked at me; I just shrugged.

“Well, I’ll pass, thanks. Someone here needs to stay in control,” she
said, taking another sip of her beer.

“Samantha?” Boon said, holding the joint out to me. I thought of my
father, the sheriff, and what he would think of me at that moment. Dad was
actually fairly liberal, and wasn’t really against marijuana, it was just his
job to enforce the law. Still, I thought that he wouldn’t be too happy about me
trying it; then again, he probably wouldn’t be terribly disappointed, either.
Making a split decision, I nodded my head.

Boon smiled and handed me the joint; I looked at it somewhat nervously,
more afraid of looking stupid trying to smoke it than I did about what would
actually happen if I did. I held it to my lips and inhaled deeply; the thick,
smelly smoke hit my lungs like a baseball bat and I coughed, feeling like I was
going to throw up.

I shook my head, still coughing, but was determined to give it another
go, if only to make up for my rather pathetic first attempt. Holding the
burning joint to my lips again, I took a deep inhale, this time pushing away
the desire to cough. Across the table, Boon’s gaze was open and friendly, and I
watched as he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, coolly slipping one
into his mouth.

Slip me into your mouth,
I thought, seemingly out of
nowhere, as I watched him. I blindly handed the joint to the boy sitting next
to me, exhaling slowly. The smell was actually kind of pleasant, and I looked
around with glazed-over eyes, seeing everything as if for the first time.

The noise in the bar seemed dulled. The music coming from the jukebox
suddenly seemed impossibly beautiful. I wasn’t scared. I felt warm, and giddy,
and excited, and deep. It was like I was thinking from another part of my
brain, one I’d somehow never even known was there. Everything seemed more real
and more ridiculous at the same time, and I had trouble focusing on anything,
including the conversation happening around me.

Alicia and I looked at each other and giggled. Boon was talking to the
two other boys. Becky was just staring at us like we were from another planet.
Suddenly, I felt a jolt of fear out of nowhere as a man came up to the table,
standing behind Boon. Boon turned and looked up at the man; he was much bigger,
bulkier, and hairier than Boon, but had some of Boon’s good looks. Same blonde
hair, same blue eyes, same slanted nose.

“Who are your new friends?” the man said, directing the question to Boon.
Boon seemed a little on edge around this man, but he introduced us each in
turn. I knew I had a stupid smile on my face, but couldn’t seem to get rid of
it for anything. Even when I rose to shake the man’s hand and felt myself
withering under his cold stare, I couldn’t wipe that dumb smile off my face.

“Pleasure,” the man said before turning back to Boon. “Can I talk to you
for a minute, son? In private?”

Boon got up, clearly agitated, and retreated to a dark corner of the bar
with the older man, who I took to be his father. The two boys at the table
exchanged knowing looks.

“Who’s that?” Becky asked.

“Tank. His dad, our leader,” one of the boys said, raising his beer to
his lips and taking a deep swig. “Could be trouble.”

Leader?
I thought to myself dazedly,
looking around the bar.
Oh. It’s a club,
I
thought, finding myself surprised that I hadn’t realized that earlier. Now that
I was looking around, I saw all the men had similar tattoos and patches on
their vests and jackets: the patches read “Cold Steel MC” and featured an image
of a skull with glowing blue eyes.
Cool,
I
thought. This was obviously a result of the weed and alcohol: sober Samantha,
with her law-enforcement Daddy, knew enough about motorcycle clubs to know they
were no sort of good.
 

“What kind of trouble?” Alicia asked, leaning forward, intrigued. I was
intrigued, too. Everything seemed really, really intriguing. Especially the way
the light hit the bar at that angle…

I nearly missed the conversation while I was dazedly admiring the light.
When I shook my head, returning to reality, I had missed the beginning of
whatever the boy was saying.

“…little pleasure trip. But not for Boon. He’s got some beef with his
pop. To be honest, he’s got beef with everyone. Not, you know, in a bad way. We
love him. He’s just…different. Tank’s probably pissed he brought you around,”
he said.

“Why? What’s wrong with us?” I asked, my mouth struggling to form words.
I drank my beer quickly, suddenly realizing how thirsty I was. The two boys
grinned at each other.

“Nothing. You just ain’t our type of girls,” one said, with a chuckle.

“Any of you been on a bike before?” the other said, a knowing look in his
eyes. I didn’t like that look; it was demeaning.

“Actually, yes. We all have. You ever heard of Beartooth Rally? We all
went last year,” I said, lying through my teeth. It was surprisingly easy to
lie in my current state. It also wasn’t that big a lie; we
had
all ridden motorcycles before. There’s not much to do in
Montana, and taking a quick ride on the back of your Dad’s bike, or uncle’s
bike, or boyfriend’s bike, or friend’s boyfriend’s bike, was a popular way to
spend an afternoon.

Alicia and Becky looked at me wide-eyed, and I prayed they’d go along
with the lie. In true best friend fashion, they did.

“Yeah, I love bikes,” Alicia said, grinning ear to ear at me.

“No big deal,” Becky added, doing her part. Boon came up to the table
just at that moment and took his seat back, a dour look on his face.

“Get reamed?” one of the boys asked with a genuine look of concern.

“Nah. Just got some info on that job in Cody,” Boon said, shaking his
head.

“You’re not about that, are you? Gotta say, some of us aren’t, either,”
said the other boy. The three guys were having their own conversation, ignoring
us entirely, and I was getting really curious. Worried that my current state
would lead me to pry, I busied myself with drinking my beer. Boon lit another
cigarette.