TORQUE
The sharp and loud crack of guns going off pierces through the room. The popping and cracking continues to echo through the area as I round the corner, ducking out of the way of the men coming in my direction down the hall. It’s chaos in here for a Friday night, and it’s great to see the place busy for once. The indoor range is packed with marksmen and novices, and the atmosphere is alive and buzzing as I walk along the lengthy hall through to the main section. The popping and cracking of the bullets fade away into the distance as I stroll. People coming and going, analyzing their abilities, testing their aim, whether for sport, pleasure, or to make themselves feel safe in this day and age. We opened this range with a view that everyone could participate. We don’t discriminate.
I head out into the main foyer, the echo of the bullets still audible, but nowhere near as loud as where I’ve just come from. Nodding to Gunner, our brother who runs the gun range for the club, I step up and tap the counter to gain his attention.
He glances at me and curls up his lip. “It’s always so fucking loud in here,” he murmurs over another muted round of ammunition being fired off as I chuckle.
“You pussy. Can’t handle a little fucking noise? What are you, a wimp?” I call back, making him let out a heavy sigh. “I’m getting too old for this shit, Torque.”
“You do a great job here, Gunner. We’d be lost without you…” I place my hand on his shoulder. “Vibe will be by in a few days for a shipment, just letting you know.”
He shakes his head telling me he’s annoyed, and he huffs. “Yeah, right. I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, Gunner…” As I glance around, Trax and Lift are nowhere to be seen. They arrived with me, but as usual, they have vanished into thin air. Those two can’t ever keep to the fucking plan.
Trax is always a damn loose cannon. He might be my blood brother as well as my VP, but the guy has some crazy-ass ideas of what constitutes a good time. And seeing as we’re on the outskirts of The Heart of Italy—better known as Andretti territory—I can only imagine what the hell he and my Secretary, Lift, are getting into.
“I better go find those fucking imbeciles, their idea of fun always gets us in trouble.”
He snorts out a laugh and nods. “Saw them head out about ten minutes ago, Pres. Pretty sure they were headed down toward Gino’s Gym.”
Rolling my shoulders in annoyance as I let out a throaty groan. “Thanks, Gunner.”
He tilts his head in acknowledgment, and I step out of the gun range on to the street. The chill in the Chicago night-time air assaults my face as I turn toward the Andretti-owned Gino’s Gym. If Trax and Lift are there, doing what the hell I think they’re doing, I’m going to drill them both new fucking assholes.
My muscles are tight as I clench my jaw while walking up to the front of the gym. The blaring techno music aggravates my damn ears as I watch the windows vibrate from the sound. I fucking hate how different their gyms are run to ours. It’s like a club scene in there. Give me Led Zeppelin any day instead of this crap music.
“Fucking Andrettis,” I murmur.
Gazing up, I notice the ‘Gino’s Gym’ sign proudly displayed on the wall. The lit-up sign has a 3D effect, with illumination behind each letter in a bright purple, and the letters themselves seem to glimmer, or is that glitter. Fuck knows! I close my eyes, sigh, and purse my lips at the absurdity of it all. What are they trying to achieve here precisely—a gym or a damn nightclub? I look around at the floor-to-ceiling mirrors on every single fucking wall and spot Trax and Lift inside the gym as I damn-well suspected.
“Motherfuckers,” I murmur ducking down even though I’m not in the gym. “The damn fucking idiots!”
My muscles tense as I look through the gym trying to see if any of Enzo Andretti’s men are inside, but I can’t see anyone. Thank fuck. I’m going to kill these two fuckers when I get my hands on them.
I notice Lift hand the baggie to a guy at the weight section, he then gives Lift some cash while Trax stands by as a lookout. I can’t believe they’re dealing roids in an Andretti-owned gym. This war we have with the Andrettis is only going to escalate because of their stupidity.
“Hey fuckers,” a loud booming voice calls out.
Seven men, dressed in the typical Andretti get-up of a fuck-ugly blue tracksuit and hideous gold chains around their necks, step toward my brothers. The outfit is the same one they have worn since the rise and fall of Stefano Andretti decades ago. It’s like they’re stuck in the eighties and can’t move forward. Every time I see them wearing those gym uniforms, it makes me chuckle, but the fuckers are moving quickly toward Trax and Lift
Shit.
Lift pulls a backpack over his shoulder as Trax and Lift both take off through the gym toward the exit where I’m currently standing. While watching what feels like a slow-motion movie, the seven Andretti men remove guns from their waistbands.
Trax and Lift bolt for the door, laughing, but when they notice me, their faces drop. They both stop for a second, fear crossing their faces knowing they’ve been caught by not only the Andrettis but also their President. Without hesitation, the Andretti men barrel toward us.
With a heavy sigh, I grit my teeth and glare at the two imbecilic twats, but we don’t have time to discuss this shit. Right now—we have to run.
“Disperse,” I yell, and Lift and Trax both nod as we all take off.
We know for a fact the Andrettis won’t fire on us in public—fucking chicken shits—so running is the best option, rather than attempting to get back to our bikes. If we hitch a ride anyway, they’ll follow, and as soon as we’re out of the public eye, the gunfight will begin, and we are heavily outnumbered.
The best thing to do right now?
Run.
So we do—in the motherfucking outskirts of The Heart of Italy and in Andretti territory—and as we bolt down the street, with seven furious Italian Mafioso’s on our tails, Trax starts laughing.
“What’s your idea now that we’ve run, brother?” Trax calls out as we bolt past a temporary pop-up grocery store.
Grabbing hold of the wooden container, I yank one down as I pass. Apples and oranges fly through the air and land in the street as a little Greek man yells obscenities at me in his native tongue.
The Andretti men get caught up in the fruit salad as we round the corner.
I have to think fast.
We need a way out of this.
If they catch us, we’re going to be fucking toast.
Fuck! They know better than to do this shit. I’m the President of the Defiance MC, and now I’m fleeing, on foot, with my damned VP and Secretary. Dealing on Andretti turf, while it might have been funny at the time for them, will always have ramifications.
Right now, though, I need to find an out.
Looking up, I observe a frozen yogurt store, and a thought crosses my mind. As we approach, I grab Trax and yank him toward the door of the store watching as Lift follows. A damn bell rings announcing our fucking arrival to the world as we rush inside.
Are you fucking with me? It smells like a dairy in here.
I spot three employees but don’t have time to think about what to say to them as we rush for the counter, all jumping—Trax first, then me, followed by Lift—over the divider. I push a blonde beauty out of the way in my rush.
“Hey,” I hear her yell out as we round the corner and head out to a rear room where there’s no damn back door. Fuck my life! There’s no way out of here.
As I calm my breathing slightly, I also realize there’s no way the Andrettis will think three fucking bikers will run into a froyo bar. This is the perfect place to lay low until the Andrettis fuck the hell off. Taking a breath, I glance to Trax as he smiles wide at Lift, and I shake my head at him gritting my teeth, clench my fist and punch it right in his stomach. He lets out a big puff of air as he hunches over holding onto his stomach, coughing.
“You. Mother. Fucking. Idiots! Dealing roids in Andretti territory? What the ever-loving fuck were you thinking?” I keep my voice low and quiet, so the people out the front of the store don’t hear. Trax and Lift look at me sheepishly, but as they do, three heads pop around the corner all looking a little pensive, including the blonde bombshell I ran into on the way in. Her little button nose is turned up as she assesses us. Her small stature showing her fit, but slightly curvy body. The purse in her full lips makes her cheekbones pop in a way that’s so fucking sexy I’m having trouble thinking straight. But it’s her eyes, the hard glare in those big, beautiful, emerald green doe eyes that has me slightly stunned. Though, right now, that bombshell is defensively holding a giant can of whipped-fucking-cream in her hand. I have to admit the sight both makes me want to laugh hysterically as it equally makes me want to rip her fucking clothes off, spray it all over her and fuck her right here on the floor.
She looks at us hesitantly as we crouch in the back of the room. I figure we probably owe her an explanation. So, I stand up and smile stepping forward to greet her. Her face contorts as she brings the can of whipped cream up like she won’t hesitate to throttle me with it, but all I can do is chuckle as she pauses watching me with clear focus in her eyes.
She’s fucking adorable!
It eases my tension slightly.
“Seriously? A tiny thing like you is gonna hit me…” I pause, “… with a can of whipped cream?”
She drops the can to her side raising her brow and places her hand on her hip. “Well, if you don’t want to be hit with a can of cream, maybe I’ll just punch you in your cock instead. See how you like that, hey… biker boy?” The rage in her eyes has my dick instantly hard. “What the hell are you doing hiding in here anyway?”
The other guys chuckle as I take a step closer, and she stiffens her posture as I raise my hands in surrender. “We’re not hiding…” I think for a second trying to find the right words, “… we’re loitering.” I point. “You two…” I look at the guy with glasses and the brown and blonde-haired girl, “… go back to the store and act normal. Otherwise, we’re all gonna be fucking toast. You need to make sure the Andrettis don’t come in here and start shooting up the place. They won’t shoot in the streets, but if they see us in an enclosed space like this, they won’t fuckin’ hesitate to open fire,” I instruct.
The brown and blonde-haired girl shakes her head defiantly. “What! And leave Heeley in here with you guys. I think not.” She places her hands on her hips.
“This isn’t up for debate, sweet cheeks. Either you go out there and act normal, or you’ll give it away we’re in here. Then we’re all dead anyway… even your little dairy queen, Heeley, here. And trust me when I say the Andrettis will take their time in killing her and you because you’re women… they take extra time with the females.”
The brown and blonde-haired girl opens her eyes wide while Heeley turns to her and nods. “It’s fine… Ari, Xav. Really. I can handle myself with these idiots. Go. Pretend everything’s fine. Use your charms on them if they come in. Sweep them off their feet. Give them as much froyo as they want,” Heeley instructs.
That authority in her voice, yeah, I like that shit a lot. She holds sass and an edge in her tone.
The little dairy queen is something else.
The brown and blonde-haired girl, who I now know is Ari, and the guy in glasses, Xav, turn and walk off to tend to the store.
Heeley spins and squints her eyes. “You think you can come into my family’s store, cause havoc, and start bossing everyone around?” She glares at me after taking a step forward this time rather than back.
I raise an eyebrow and grin liking her fear has now turned into anger.
This chick has balls, I’ll give her that.
I chuckle. “I’m the president of a fucking outlaw biker club, princess. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
Heeley takes another step forward, so close I can smell the creamy smell of vanilla wafting from her apron. It’s actually kind of sexy in a strange nondescript sort of way.
“Well, maybe you can when you’re in your damn territory, but in here…” she waves her hands around, “… this is my place. My rules. So don’t come in here thinking you can do whatever the fuck you want, biker boy. Because this place means far too much to my family and me to let you come in and trash the joint.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. “You think we’re gonna loiter about in here, and then just trash the place that kept us safe? What kind of savages do you take us for?”
She looks around to Trax and Lift and turns up her lip. “First, let’s get this straight, biker boy. You are not loitering… you are hiding. And secondly, you damn-well look like a mob of hairy bikers to me.” I start to open my mouth, but she puts up her hand to quieten me. “And, from what I’ve heard of the Defiance MC, you guys aren’t the most genuine or decent in town. So, excuse me for thinking negatively of you.”
Trax chuckles while shaking his head. “She’s got sass, I like her. Can we keep her, Pres?”
Lift bursts out laughing while Heeley’s eyes open wide, and she takes a step back from me again shaking her head. “No. You cannot keep me. I am not your damn property. Fucking hell! How can you even talk like that?”
I lean in close to her, her breath catches as she looks down at my lips, and I grin as she shudders trying to pretend to be enraged. “He’s joking, dairy queen.”
Heeley’s face drops, and she furrows her brows like she’s relieved. “Oh… and don’t call me dairy queen.”
“We do have a sense of humor, sweetheart. We’re not all death, chaos, and carnage, you know?”
She rolls her eyes. “Could have fooled me.” Her shoulders relax as she looks me up and down. “Well, if we’re going to be out here for a while, we may as well be acquainted. What’s your name, biker boy?”
I snort and shake my head at her change of attitude. “Torque. Defiance MC President...” I tip my head, but she scratches hers like she’s confused.
“Your name is talk? As in… like, let’s have a nice chat about the weather kind of talk. That’s a stupid name.” She screws up her face. “I don’t get you bikers. At. All.”
Raising my brow as my brothers burst out laughing behind me, I spin around to look at them with a harsh glare, and they both quickly shut up as I take a breath and look back at Heeley. I squint, running my hand through my hair. “Torque… as in the measure of how much twisting force an engine can produce.”
She screws up her face and shrugs. “Well, that’s not much better. Why would you want to be named after that?”
Grinning at the memory, I sigh. “As a teen, I blew up every single car I had because of the amount of torque I tried to run through their engines. I was a bit of a rev head back then, and it was at that time I was patched into the club. They thought it was fitting.”
She shrugs. “I think it’s boring. You could have come up with something so much better than that, surely.”
My brothers both chuckle, but my muscles tense as I step forward right into her space, pushing her back against the wall, my hands either side of her face. She gasps as my body presses against hers, and she gazes up into my eyes breathing harshly as I stare down at her.
“You think you can talk to me like that? You think it’s okay to disrespect a brother and his road name?”
She gulps, and for a split second, I see the fear in her eyes. I see a glimmer of terror. But then the fighter is back as a sly smile creeps up on her face, and she tilts her head to the side. “I think you’re all talk.” She giggles. “See what I did there?” She rolls her eyes. “Intimidating me is your way of showing power. But I can assure you, biker boy, I don’t scare easily.” She pulls up her hand with the can of whipped cream in it and sprays the side of my face.
I pull back as she grins wide, the sarcastic expression not lost on me—the side of my face now covered in the cream.
Trax and Lift both laugh as I step back from her, and she raises her brow smugly. Her tongue slips out, and she licks the top of the cream container and then gives it a quick suck. Cracking my neck to the side, my cock throbs watching her mouth fold over the top of the cream container.
That little show was sexy as fuck. I wonder what else she can do with that mouth.
Licking the whipped cream from the side of my mouth, I watch as she swallows hard following the movement of my tongue. “One day soon…” I pause for effect, “… I’m gonna be licking whipped cream off every inch of you, Heeley.”
Her body visibly shivers at my words, and I can’t help but grin enjoying her reaction as I wipe the rest of my face then lick the cream from my hand.
She clears her throat. “Well, then… I’m just going to go and check how everything is out the front. See if the coast is clear, or what… so you can all piss off,” she says, turning and rushing out of the room.
With a chuckle, I turn back to face my men, and they’re both grinning at me.
Trax is shaking his head.
“What?” I ask.
He stands up from his crouched position and walks over to me still holding onto his stomach from when I punched him. “You let her hand you your ass on a silver fucking platter, brother. You’re going soft. One pretty lady with a sassy attitude, and you’re fucking weak at the knees.”
I reach out slapping him over the back of the head, his floppy hair falling across his face as he chuckles with that stupid grin he’s known for. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not used to women talking back like that. The pussy we have all fall at our feet and do whatever we ask. It threw me for a second. Cut me some slack. I’m a little rusty.”
Trax’s cocky, lopsided smirk falls. He nods knowing what I mean, and he reaches out grabbing my shoulder to give it a tight squeeze. “Well, I for one, think it’s fucking fantastic that a woman has finally taken your eye, brother. I mean we know women take your cock all the time. But one actually gaining your attention. Well… that’s something to celebrate. The froyo is on me,” Trax announces.
Lift laughs as he ducks his head around the corner and whistles. “Oi… have they gone past yet?”
“All clear. It’s safe to come out now,” Xav calls back.
We all casually stroll out behind the counter of the froyo bar. I look around noticing no one, the place is empty, and it’s a Friday night. Surely, they should have a few customers. I glance to Heeley who’s bending over placing something in the freezer under the counter, her ass looks delectable in those tiny little white shorts. My cock strains in my jeans again, and I swear this girl has me in all kinds of fucking knots.
“A round of froyo if you please, dairy queen, on Trax, of course,” I announce.
Heeley looks up and raises her brow. “Since when do bikers like frozen yogurt? Honestly?”
“Why? We like sweet things, sweet thang.”
“Oh, please... I just vomited a little in my mouth. Like that’s a line I haven’t heard before, biker boy.”
I chuckle and shrug. “I’m kinda surprised you’re not more alarmed by our presence here.”
Heeley gets to work on scooping out some frozen yogurt. “Well, the way I see it… you three came running in here hiding away from the so-called ‘bad’ guys.” She uses air quotes to accentuate it. “So if they’re the bad guys, and you were hiding—”
“Loitering,” I correct her, and she rolls her eyes.
After scooping some yogurt into a cup, she looks up. “Well, if you decided to loiter…” she coughs over-exaggeratedly, “…. instead of fight, then maybe you’re the lesser of two evils. I don’t know… you might look tough. You might act tough. Hell… you probably are tough… but, there must be some good in you not to want an all-out gun war on the streets of Chicago on a Friday night. I can respect that.”
Glancing at Trax, he raises his brow and leans back against the counter as I catch Lift eyeing Ari probably a little too much. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we are the ‘better’ guys in this scenario…” this time I use air quotes to accentuate it, “… but don’t let the fact that we have an ounce of decency in us fool you, Heeley. We might be the better guys when it comes to us against the Andrettis, but that doesn’t mean we’re ‘good guys’ in the overall scheme of things. We’ve done shit… bad shit and when I say you should be scared of us…” I take a step closer to her. Her eyes widen as her throat bobs up and down as she swallows hard taking in my size. “You should be.” My eyes stare down at her while she scrutinizes mine. We’re staring at each other, and it feels like we’re standing still, but the rest of the room is spinning. I can’t explain it. It’s fucking crazy and bullshit. The intense buzz circulating around us is making my chest rise and fall quickly as I stare her down. Both our chests heave with the tension.
“Is he always this intense?” Ari calls out, breaking me from my moment with Heeley. She looks away from me in a rush and turns back to the freezer scooping more yogurt into the already overfull cup.
“Yeah, he’s a dramatic asshole most of the time,” Trax replies, causing Lift to laugh as I turn and glare. Both Ari and Xav chuckle.
“Heels, I think there’s enough froyo in that cup,” Xav tells her.
Heeley looks down as if she’s shocked by what she’s doing. “Shit… yeah.” She turns, shoving the cup at me. I take it from her, my fingers lightly touching hers when I reach out for the cup. Our eyes connect again as a spark shoots down my arm straight to my cock, and I know she feels it too by the way her body shivers. She quickly pulls her hand away like I’ve burned her which makes me grin wide.
Heeley’s face wrinkles in a frown, and she moves back to the freezer. “Trax, do you want any toppings?”
I snort out a laugh. “I didn’t get any toppings?”
“God, needy much? Plus, your cup’s too full. Deal with it,” she snaps and turns filling up another one as I look at Trax whose lopsided grin is definitely pissing me off.
This woman, really?
“I like you, Heeley. We’re definitely keeping you,” Trax teases.
Heeley rolls her eyes.
“So, like…” Xav waves his hands around and continues, “… do you guy’s torture people and shit?” he asks out of nowhere, and everyone looks at him with perplexed stares.
Heeley spins facing him, her mouth falls open, and she gasps. “Xav! Oh my God, you did not just ask that.”
“What?” he shrugs.
I grin, thinking this kid’s got balls just like Heeley.
“Sorry, my brother is mentally incapable of not blurting out whatever’s on his mind. He asks the exact thing in his head without thinking of the consequences. Don’t hold it against him.”
Xav shakes his head and shrugs. “I can’t help it, I just like to know shit.”
So, he’s her brother.
Makes sense.
They look similar, but he appears more on the effeminate side of masculine. I’m relatively sure he bats for the other side.
“Have you ever heard the saying… curiosity killed the cat?” I ask, and his eyes bug open wide while he swallows hard. “Then try not to be a pussy… you feelin’ me?”
He nods in quick succession.
Heeley groans walking up to me. “Right, you guys… out!” she declares and starts to shove me, but I hardly budge as Ari and Xav both jolt back in shock.
“Sorry, what?” I ask.
“Get out! You loitered. You’ve got your free froyo. You’ve intimidated my brother. Now you leave...” She looks away from me. “You’re scaring our customers away.” Her clipped tone and change in demeanor has me annoyed.
“Fine…” I place the full cup of yogurt on the counter with force, and some of it slops out over my hand. Fuck! I flick my hand around, and it slides off onto the floor, and some even lands on the wall. I tip my head up to Trax who’s smirking so fucking full, even though his face is full of yogurt while he’s watching the show.
“Boys, let’s ditch this place,” I instruct, turning and walking for the divider. I pull it up with extra force, and it slams against the bench, one side of it breaking as it falls and hangs there while I walk through into the main section of the store.
“Bye Ari,” Lift says out of nowhere, making me turn back in time to see her scrunching her brows and jolting her head back as she looks him up and down, while he and Trax follow me out of the store.
“It was cool meeting you,” Xav yells out.
I half grin, but don’t turn back as I shut the door behind me with force and look down the street making sure there aren’t any fucking Andretti men lying in wait.
Fuck, I’m in a bad mood.
Trax slaps my shoulder. “Holy shit, brother. That was fun to watch.”
“You better fucking hope our rides are still in one piece, ‘cause if Enzo’s men have fucked up my bike, I’m gonna be more than fucked off. And you, me and Lift are gonna have some serious motherfuckin’ words about what you were doing in the gym when we get back to the clubhouse. You pair of fuckin’ idiots.”