He didn’t wait for me to respond but stalked off down the hall.
I took the time to take a deep breath and instead of focusing on the craziness of having a gun in my face (somehow not for the first time in my life but the second), I studied The Fallen MC clubhouse.
It was a fairly enormous open room wrapped in dark wood paneling but coloured by the plethora of neon bar signs on the walls that signaled things like “Live Free, Die Hard But Only If You Can’t Kill ’Em First.” There was also a collection of prison photos lighted by an overhead lamp leading down the hallway Zeus had disappeared into. I noticed his immediately, dead center, his scowl fierce, tongue out, rock on symbol constructed by his fingers just beside the plaque he carried so that at first, the emblem of rebellion wasn’t noticeable.
There were two pool tables covered in black felt at the far end of the rectangular room, a jukebox between them that even now was playing hard rock (Zeppelin), and a couple of high tables with stools. A huge antique Harley was mounted on one wall, a massive TV on the other fronted by a couple long, low black leather couches. The recreational space and the bar area that I sat in was partially divided by a black chain-link wall that made the entire place wicked cool and would have been my favourite feature but for the fact that the massive square bar I sat at was absolutely covered in graffiti, the biggest of which was a huge image of The Fallen logo, a skull with fiery, tattered wings, and their motto: Live Free, Die Hard.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“Fuckin’ somethin’ else, isn’t it?” A tall, skinny guy covered in tattoos appeared beside me, sliding onto a stool with a wide smile.
He wasn’t a bad-looking guy despite being vaguely terrifying but there was something about his smile that rubbed me the wrong way, like he expected my panties to melt off at the sight of it.
I crossed my legs, suddenly extremely conscious of the tiny length of my work shorts.
“Yeah, it’s a cool place. Cleaner than I thought for a group of bikers,” I admitted.
He laughed. “Got bitches who keep the place clean.”
I tried not to wince at the terminology or the thought of one of those women with Zeus. “Figures, only women would know how to keep a place this clean.”
Another chuckle. “Should see it after one of our shindigs. Fuckin’ mess.”
I wrinkled my nose at the thought, which made him grin even wider at me.
“You’re a real treat, you know that?” he asked me, leaning forward to put his forearms on his thighs, which brought him much closer to me, his face on level with my breasts in my deep-cut crop top.
I leaned back slightly but winked at him to soften the rebuke. “I’ve been told.”
“Get a taste, figure it’ll be just as sweet,” he continued, eyes sparkling.
It was my turn to laugh, covering my mouth with my hand as I did it loudly. “You’re kidding me with this, right?”
His grin was unrepentant when he straightened with a shrug. “Can’t blame a man for tryin’ now, can ya?”
“She might not, but I fuckin’ well can. Back off, Skell. Lou’s too smart to fall in for your cheesy fuckin’ lines,” Zeus grumbled as he prowled back into the room, a skinny ginger kid barely older than myself and a man with an eye patch following behind him.
The guy named Skell held his hands up in surrender. “Girl looks like a fuckin’ Barbie doll, Prez. Gotta say, I’d put up with a beatin’ if it meant I could have just one minute with my face up her skirt.”
I didn’t know whether to be strangely flattered or seriously offended but Zeus took matters into his own hands by hooking a foot in Skell’s stool and tugging so that the biker went tumbling to the ground.
The other men burst into laughter and even Skell chuckled good-naturedly as he rubbed the back of his head and rolled to his feet.
“If you weren’t six foot fuckin’ five an’ harder ’an a concrete wall, I’d fight ya for that.”
Even I laughed when Skell jumped around on his toes, his hands up in faux fighting posture.
“Breathe on ya right and you’d fall over, brother,” Zeus said, his lips tilted to the left in a small grin. With his arms crossed over his wide chest, one booted foot over the other and lean hips against the side of the bar, he was the picture of badass biker guy.
I had no doubt he could blow on someone just right and bowl them over.
I also didn’t doubt that he could blow on me and I’d go down, but probably for different reasons.
“Right, brothers, this here is Loulou,” Zeus introduced with a chin nod. “She’ll be around seein’ as she won’t leave me the fuck alone.”