Chapter 10
We walk hand in hand down stairs to meet up with everyone.
This clubhouse is actually very impressive. It is huge, has a living quarters for its members, a guest stay area, topped with meeting rooms and offices. In the center of it all, a large open space to work on bikes and trucks.
“Hey VP, here is that thing you texted me about,” the guy who was outside of Stanton’s house this morning says, while handing him a box.
“Thanks man. T, this is Schuyler. Schuyler, this is T. I know you have met, but I wanted to introduce you officially. He’s our Secretary.” He lets go of my hand to point back and forth between us.
“It’s nice to officially meet you.” I smile at him. He’s almost as tall as Stanton, with darker blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He has this smile that tells me he also has secrets and he will most likely take them to his grave.
“You too, babe.” He winks and Stanton flips him off.
T raises his hands in surrender and laughs.
“Just stirring the pot, brother. Don’t shoot me.” He laughs again.
“Hey, Vice, we are almost ready,” another guy comes up and says.
“Alright, we are going to swing by Schuyler’s place first so she can change out of her work clothes.”
“Sounds good, man.” He nods to Stanton.
“Schuyler, this is Matt. He’s part of the Avengers. They are the ones we call to get shit done. If you need anything at all and me and T are not available, call them.” He points to the guy first and then three other guys.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell him holding my hand out for him to shake. He’s tall, but not as tall as Stanton and T. His arms are corded with muscle and his one arm is covered in colorful tattoos.
“Nahh, girl,you’re family now,” he says as he wraps me up in a huge bear hug.
“Thank you,” I giggle as I hug him back.
As he releases me, he points to the other guys in the Avengers. “The short one with long hair? That’s Jordan. He’s quiet but deadly and someone you want in your corner should you ever need it. The darker haired one with dreads? That’s Brock. He is crazy skilled with blades. Don’t piss him off if you don’t want to get gutted.” He winks like it’s a joke.
“Like that would ever happen,” Stanton scoffs beside me and I have to giggle a little. My protective warrior.
Matt just laughs and points to the last one.
“The giant? His name is Jaxson, but everyone calls him Giant. Because, well… look at him.” He laughs again. “He is also deadly with blades. Him and Brock like to put on little shows and it’s pretty damn entertaining.”
“I look forward to it.” I nod.
We walk a few steps and before I get the chance to ask what is in that box, Stanton is introducing me to someone else. I hope I can remember all of the names.
“Schuy, this is Alex. He’s the Master at Arms.”
“Howdy, lil lady.” Alex shakes my hand. He is taller than me, not as quite as tall as Stanton. He has longer blonde hair and his face is a full beard, clean cut, but just the right amount of scruff. He has a huge mischievous smirk on his face, and I know many women most likely fall into his bed with that look.
“It’s nice to meet you, Alex,” I say feeling like a broken record.
“You guys ready?” Stanton asks as he nods to the bikes outside.
“Yup, just waiting on you,” he tells him.
“Hey, Vice? Would it be disrespectful if when we get to my house, I ride my own bike?” I ask unsure if it will upset him. “It’s just, I haven’t ridden her in a while and I kinda got the itch,” I say.
“Hey, if you wanna ride solo you can, sweetheart. It's fine.” He chuckles. “This ain’t the club you’re used to. I’m not going to force you on the back of mine. Plus, I think it will be sexy as fuck looking at you next to me. Let me guess.” He places his finger on his chin. “You have a pink Harley?”
I scoff and punch him in the side. “No, I don’t. Helga is not pink.”
“Helga?” Alex asks trying not to laugh.
“Yes, Helga. A badass name for a badass bike.” I squint my eyes at him while crossing my arms over my chest.
“I’m thinking she has a red German made motorcycle with a guy screaming for her pipes.” He laughs as he tries to make the sounds of an exhaust with a weird accent. I try to keep a straight face but the more he does it, the harder I have to fight from cracking my lips into a smile. He starts to laugh uncontrollably and that has me laughing with him; hands on my belly, bent over with tears in my eyes.
“Oh, my God. I’ll never be able to look at Helga the same way again. Poor girl was just violated.” I sigh as I wipe the tears from my eyes. I look over at Stanton and he has the most beautiful smile on his face and without thinking, I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his for a quick kiss.
“Ready, guys?” he asks.
We all nod as we walk out the doors to the bikes. Stanton stops before he gets on and I look up at him.
“Here, I have something made for you.” He hands me the box and everyone stops and stares at us.
I open the box and my breath catches at what’s inside. It’s a leather cut with a patch on it that says, Angel and below it, my name. The patch is purple and I can’t stop my fingers from running over it.
“Turn it around, sweetheart,” he tells me.
I pick it up out of the box and turn it over and I gasp at the back. It has the Angels crest on the back with a big patch underneath with ‘Property of Stanton, VP’ on it. The crest is a huge purple skull with wings behind it, embroidered with black to detail the wings. It has ‘Fallen Angels MC’ surrounding it. The letters are embroidered into the back leather with a thick purple thread. Tears come to my eyes and I try and blink them back, not wanting to turn into a crying mess.
I lift my head and smile at Stanton. He kisses my forehead and I look around at everyone watching.
“Thank you, guys. I know this is presented as a gift from Vice,” I look back at him again, “but I can’t thank you enough for accepting me; no questions asked. No trial period. No nothing. You just… welcomed me. Thank you. And I swear, I will have your back for always, too.”
“Schuyler, we got you. We. Got. You,” Chris says and I know exactly what he is telling me. He knows. Stanton told him. The tears I blinked away come back, and before I can stop it, one falls.
“Thanks,” I whisper around the lump in my throat.
“Here, Schuy, let me help you put on your very first cut,” Stanton tells me.
He holds the vest out and I slip my arms underneath it. It fits me perfectly, cut just for a woman’s shoulders and chest.
All the guys start whistling and I can’t even help the grin that stretches my face. I do a slow turn and everyone erupts in cheers.
“Alright! Let’s get this ride started!” Chris hollers.
Stanton mounts his bike and holds out his hand for me. I swing my leg over and squeeze his hips with my legs.
As we ride I close my eyes. My hair is blowing in the wind and it's blowing Stanton’s scent to me. I inhale, never getting tired of it.
I point over his shoulder telling him where to go, loving the feel of my front to his back.
We pull into my drive and I have to laugh at what the neighbors must think right now. I have about thirty bikes pulling down my street, waiting for me. As I walk up to my door, I smile. This life I always said I’d never go back to, and here I am bringing it to my door step. I really am crazy.
I walk in the door, not bothering to shut it and walk down my hallway into my bedroom. I go to my closet, and I look for that purple shirt I just got. That will make my cut look good.
I get dressed and walk out to my living room where only Stanton is standing.
“Damn, sweetheart.” His eyes roam my body, making me heat up from head to toe.
“Behave yourself. We got to go.” I give him my best stern look and his grin only grows.
I walk to my closet and pull out my riding boots. These babies only get worn if I’m on Helga. These were an impulse buy shortly after I moved here. Shopping makes me happy, but I don’t do it often, only when I am about to drown in stress.
“Ready to see Helga?” I ask as I stand up with my beautiful boots laced up tight.
“As I ever will be, sweetheart.” He laughs. I know what he’s thinking. He’s going to walk in and see a black Harley with pink pinstripes or something just as girly. My Helga, however, is flawless. Just the right mix of girly and badass. The kind of motorcycle that makes men cry because it is better than theirs. The I can’t believe a girl rides that kind of bike.
I smirk as I wave my hand outside. I could take him through the door inside to the garage, however, I choose not to. I want to see everyone's face. I lock the front door and walk to my garage with the biggest grin on my face.
I key in the code and the door lifts as I walk over to sweet Helga. She has a cover over her, and I walk to her tail and bend down and grab the bottom of the cover and slowly start to reveal her. The cover slides over her powder blue paint, and my heart skips a beat at her beauty. She is a V-Rod Harley but custom built into a Night Rod style. The seat is black, with a thick, flat black stripe going up the gas tank, and it also has flat black coated rims. The engine and dual exhaust are powder coated to match the flat back custom paint.
Helga is one bad ass motorcycle.
“Jesus Christ, Schuyler.” Stanton breathes. “That’s one sexy girl.”
I hear a long whistle behind me, and I smile.
“Damn, Schuy. We were not expecting that! Your bike matches Vice’s!” Chris says.
I keep smiling and mount her and walking her backwards. Once I get her turned around, I look up at everyone.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s just crazy your bike matches Vice’s so much. And it’s a badass bike.”
“Helga is a beauty,” Alex says with humor in his voice.
“Told you so!” I smirk. “And this whole time you doubted my beauty!” I point at him.
Alex is one of those types of people you just instantly get along with. He is someone you can feel comfortable in his company. The kind you feel like they are family; like a brother.
“Y’all ready to ride?” Matt asks.
“Hell, yes. Let’s do this!” I exclaim.
Everyone, including me, starts their engines. As I sit there and wait for them to all take off, I realize no one is going. When I look over to Vice, he has a smile on his face as his eyes travel my body. I feel a grin stretch my face when I see the look he’s giving me. I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. I’m wearing jeans that hug every inch and curve of my body. The shirt I’m wearing is a purple quarter-length sleeve that makes the colors of my new cut pop. I let my hair down so the wind can carry it in the breeze.
As Stanton and I ride down my drive, then down my street, I get this feeling everything is going to be alright, as long as I have him by my side.