Coyotes of Santa Fe

A/N I found enough encouragement to continue this story. I plan on finishing Nila's story. Please leave comments and rate my story!

~Nila~

I have been on the road a while now, one month to be exact. I would stop and stay in small hotels once a day. Picking up odd jobs here and there, but I try to keep moving as much as possible. I can’t stay in one place for too long. If I am not mistaken there should be a bar close by that I can stop to rest for a bit. It’s only four in the afternoon, but most bars in the middle of nowhere are opened all day to keep their income. If I’m lucky one of the locals will know a good mechanic for my Harley. It’s always a good idea to keep up with your bike when riding long distances.

As I approach the bar, I noticed a lot of Harleys parked out front. Oh please for the love of God, don’t be a fucking MC. I have to stop, I don’t really know where I am and I need food, rest and gas. Once I was parked, I swung my leg off my bike, pulling off my helmet and letting my long blonde hair fall down my back. Running my hands through my helmet hair trying to tame as much of it as I can. I place my helmet on my handlebars, and head for the doors.

I see a few men wearing leather cuts staring at me. This can only mean one thing, this is an MC. Just my shitty luck, the only rest stop for miles and it’s a fucking MC. I take a deep breath and hold my head up high, I can’t let fear in. I’m just hoping this MC is one of the friendlier ones. Most MCs don’t care for outsiders in their clubs, but I have a feeling that since they’re in the middle of a desert in New Mexico, they welcome any cash flow. Walking through the doors I notice on the wall to my right, is a sign in big metal letter reading, COYOTES OF SANTA FE. I also notice everyone in the bar looking at me. Trying my hardest, I shove down my anxiety.

I walk to a barstool to take a seat and ask the bartender, “Is there a mechanic shop nearby I can take my bike to?”

The bartender stops cleaning his pint glass. Without saying anything he turns to stare at me with a blank expression. His waves of dark black hair lightly fall around his fair colored face. His eyes are blacker than his hair. He is really handsome for someone giving me the silent treatment.

I promise I’m not stupid, but I can’t stand to repeat myself. Even being an outsider, lest he could do is point me in the right direction, besides doesn’t it get annoying hearing the same fucking question?

So I ask again, louder with a bit of an edge to my voice, ” Is there a bike shop nearby? My Harley needs to be looked at.”

I will admit, it was brave to be rude to an MC member. Especially not knowing what kind of MC they might be, but my temper isn’t something I control well, besides who just ignores someone like that? Again I get no answer. Taking a deep breath trying to keep my cool. The last thing I need, is to be on the bad side of another MC.

Clenching my fist, I ask, ” Can you at least point me to someone that will answer my fucking question?′ Anger leaked out at the end of my question.

Looking around to see if anyone heard my temper. I see everyone in here is fucking looking at me. Great, I really did it this time. Some of the members where smirking others including women were glaring at me.

Shit, I just poked the bear.

Turning I get ready to slide off my seat, but before I could, I see a giant six feet tall man standing over me. He has a long brown beard and tattoos covering his thick strong arms. I see the words PRESIDENT patched on his cut, right above the letters was an image of a Coyote. Great, here’s the fucking bear. I wonder how long he was standing behind me? Knowing my luck, he was there the whole time. I had to tilt my head up to look at his face.

“He is mute, He can’t talk.” I stopped myself from jumping up when he spoke, his voice boomed around us, not from yelling, he has one of those big, full voices.

Raising my head even higher to look into his eyes. They looked bright blue, but somehow underneath was something dark, I tilt my head to the bartender just slightly trying to keep eye contact with the bear.

I say with a calm, level voice. trying to hide my fear. “Scotch, neat please.”

Mr. Bear’s face brightens with a big smile crossing it. Once the bartender placed my drink next to me I take a big gulp to finish it all at once.

The bear raises one of his brows and asks, “I take it that is your Harley parked out front?” Since there are lots of Harleys parked out front I’m guessing all of them belong to his MC members.

“Yes.” I reply, “I’ve been traveling, and I need a Mechanic to keep my baby in shape.”

He chuckles his eye squinting from his smile. “Gotta love a woman that knows how to treat a good ride.” He said his smile never leaving his face.

“Of course, I built her from the ground up, shes my loyal girl.” I said, smiling from the pride I felt in my chest, knowing most women don’t know anything about working on bikes. “Gotta love a man that appreciates that in a woman.” I wasn’t flirting just being friendly. Knowing I need to make up for being rude to his bartender.

His laugh shook the walls around us. ” Lucky for you we have a bike mechanic here.” Yeah, lucky me, I think to my self as I let him continue. ” I’ll show where he is.”

Waving his hand to tell me to follow. I get off my seat and flow the bear, I look around to see his men going back to what they were doing before walked in. “The names Hulk.” Fitting name for a big guy. ” What’s your name, little lady?”

I was hoping to skip introductions. I’m not planning on staying here long enough to get to know anyone here. I don’t really know if I should trust him with my name? For all I know, he could be allies with Devil’s hand MC. Last time I ran into the Devils, I almost didn’t make it out alive.

I must have been in my thoughts too long because Hulk cleared his throat and asks, “You going to give me a name, lady?”

Giving him a small smile, reluctantly I say, “Nila.”