The Biker's Rules

All Rights Reserved ©

Happy birthday

***POV - Damion

I sit at the table with the guys in my grim-reaper suit next to Enrique. Ilkay, a psycho doctor, and Axel, a werewolf, are opposite us. Logan, a devil, is talking to Cat-woman in a dark corner. My gaze scans the room, secretly looking for a certain person. My heart gives a double beat when my eyes eventually find her walking down the stairs.

She’s dressed in a short black skirt with white lace trimmings and small red roses around the hem; a short tight black crop top exposes her toned tummy, while black net stockings with knee-high black boots clad those perfect legs. Her face is painted lightly white with black circles around her eyes, red lips, and a stitched-in smile. Her light hair is hanging loose over her shoulders with red roses on the top of her head. Coincidentally, her sugar-skull girl theme fits perfectly with mine.

My bitch-stick moves, but I just smile - I came prepared today. I didn’t get dressed as a reaper solely because of my surname … no, I can easily hide any unplanned boner under my cloak. Hell, I’ve learned through experience that Mel can drive me into a sudden hard-on in two seconds flat, and with all these news reporters around, that could lead to an embarrassing situation. So I planned ahead – knowing the cloak would cover up any unrequested evidence.

My face and nude chest are professionally painted like a skeleton, and together with the black pants and boots under my long black cloak, I don’t look half bad. I glance down the bar to Ren, dressed as a bloody murderous clown. I hate clowns. So does Mel. I wonder if he knows that? Or does he know and this is some kind of sick joke of his? For some or other reason, that guy rubs me up the wrong way. Maybe it’s just jealousy … but I really don’t like him one bit. He gets up and goes to Mel, now standing at the bottom of the stairwell talking to Kiara.

The next moment, Chloe grabs me around my neck, forcing my eyes away from the object of my hard-on, and I’m immediately pissed off. She’s melted into a nurse’s uniform, much too tight and much too short and her red lace undergarments are sticking out. I’ve never been a fan of the little slut but Mark, my team manager, instructed me to endure her since her dad is one of our sponsors. I try to be as nice as possible to her, but that doesn’t mean I have to fuck her … thankfully. Luckily, Mark takes up the microphone and gestures to me to get ready.

I pull Chloe’s hands from my body and gently shove her into Axel’s arms, before looking back at my fantasy girl, finding her hateful eyes glued on me. I can’t help but smile, the little brat seems jealous. Good to know. I’ve been thinking about everything she said on the way here. Did I really hurt her that much? Is it too late to fix things? I walk up to where Mark and Sean, my teammate, are standing.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Tonight is probably one of the most special Halloween parties we’ll ever get to experience. We’re here to celebrate Damion’s 21st birthday. And at this tender age, this man is already a racing legend, smashing records as far as he goes. This season is not any different. We know, after the race last week, that Damion officially has the championship in the bag! AGAIN! So let us toast to our two riders. Damion and Sean!” Mark lifts a glass, “And I can let you know that our team smashed more than a few records. We are extremely lucky to have such a great team,” Mark says proudly, and I walk slowly closer to my angel.

People start cheering and whistling loudly and the ones closest to me pat me on my damaged back, the pain causing me to pull my face slightly. My back is a mixture of purple-blue bruises and open bloody wounds, but I’m not complaining, else Mel would have been the one with the bruises and I don’t even want to think about that. Damn that Chloe bitch. Mark holds up his hands and waits for them to quiet down.

“Damion broke the fastest lap record again in this last race. And with our new Reaper bikes coming out next season, it won’t be the last time I can promise you that. Those bikes are going to perform as you’ve never seen before.”

Again, the cheers go up, and I know everybody on my team is very happy about our results so far. Sean salutes me with a big smile. If he wins his next race … and with me helping him as his backup – it’s almost a done deal … he will end the season with a podium finish too, ensuring our team takes the first spot back.

Last year, Sean took the championship title but because I ended fifth, the Honda team stole the team-of-the-year trophy from us. But we’re back baby!

“Damion, all of us are so proud of you. We still have a few races left, but it’s just a formality. So tonight, we want to wish you a very happy birthday, and congrats on an excellent season!” He lifts his glass and everybody shouts ‘CHEERS’! He holds up his hands again.

I secretly glance at Mel, now standing next to me, but she’s looking at the wall. I know in a few seconds she’s going to be even more pissed at me, but what the heck?

“Damion is now going to open the dancefloor for us. Enjoy the party people!” He points to the DJ. I changed the song at the last minute, but after our conversation in the truck, I know it’s a perfect fit.

I hold out my hand to Mel with a lopsided grin. She frowns but I know she won’t refuse with the cameraman standing next to us, recording every moment. Some hard wolf whistles and cheerful shouts fill the room, making her blush cutely. She takes my hand reluctantly and I swing her playfully onto the dancefloor where I pull her extra close to me, feeling the tension zapping between us. Then the music starts and her body tenses up like a spring. Is it because of my close proximity or the song choice, I wonder? She looks up with a confused expression and I waste away in the depths of those violet-blues.

’You hurt me you did … Several times

It hurts to admit that we’re no different … I find it hard to commit

But you don’t even try

Still I’m better with than without you

Oh, I, I’m on it, I want it

But why do you seem to call in your eyes?

I can’t tell if you’re here or you’re out there … Do you wanna be out there?

You don’t need to be Prince Charming to me I just need this to be real …

I don’t need no Fairytale

You don’t need to kill a dragon for me Ooh, ooh … I don’t need no Fairytale

We run and go still … Every time

Whatever it is I keep on trying ’Cause it ain’t hard to forget …

When you know what it’s like

That’s why I’m better with than without you

Oh, I, I’m on it, I want it

But why do you seem to call in your eyes?

I can’t tell if you’re here or you’re out there

Do you wanna be out there?

You don’t need to be Prince Charming to me I just need this to be real …

I don’t need no Fairytale

You don’t need to kill a dragon for me Ooh, ooh … I don’t need no Fairytale

You don’t need to be Prince Charming to me I just need this to be real …

I don’t need no Fairytale

You don’t need to kill a dragon for me Ooh, ooh … I don’t need no Fairytale

I don’t need no’

When the Culture Code song ends, I keep my arm around her shoulders and walk with her back to where Ren is murdering me with his eyes. Her eyes are averted to the floor and I know I’m in the dog box again.

“Thanks for dancing with me, angel,” I say moving back to my friends. Why do I feel like I’m drowning on dry ground? Like I’m falling even though I’m not near the edge? I don’t want to lose control. I can’t.

I order a drink and sit down next to Enrique again. His phone rings and I see on the caller-id that it’s Jackson. Only then do I realize that I haven’t seen him since we changed into our costumes. The twins dressed like identical zombies, even putting in red contacts, so they’re almost indistinguishable tonight.

“Hey brother, where the hell are you?” Enrique answers cheerfully, but then his expression changes in a millisecond into a frown and I don’t like the fearful look in his eyes. He jumps up, spilling his drink on the table.

“Jackson? Blood? What … where are you? JACKSON!” He swears and hits the table. Everybody’s heads shoot up as if they were all hit by a jolt of lightning.

“Guys, Jackson is in trouble. I think he’s in the bathroom!” He yells at us. Ilkay sends Logan to retrieve his medical bag from his truck, just in case.

“If our stupid brother passed out from seeing a little bit of blood, I’m going to kill him,” Ilkay says while grabbing Enrique’s elbow; dragging him to the bathroom. Jackson and blood - that might be a big possibility.

I eagerly push Chloe, who’s clinging to my arm again, away and run with Axel up the stairs.

Dean uses big hand gestures to explain the situation to my father and Uncle John. Both elderly faces turn to shocked expressions and I push my father upstairs to see if he can help Ilkay. Suddenly, I’m relieved to have two very professional doctors at the party. Logan rushes past us with the bag.

My guts pull tight and I scan the room to find Mel while I’m struggling with an all-consuming pain in my chest. She also looks terrified, clinging to Ren’s arm. I breathe out a silent ‘thank you’ and breathe in some relief, while I slowly continue climbing the stairs as if I have weights on my feet. Please, please … let him be okay … I don’t have space for another monster in my head.

I peep carefully around the doorframe and see Ilkay and my dad standing on their knees next to Jackson’s body. They’re shouting instructions to Axel, who is handing them items from the medical bag. Ilkay always has a fully stocked medical bag with him since our extracurricular activities can be dangerous and he’s treated his fair share of boo-boos over the years.

Jackson is lying on his front on the ground, his blood-soaked shirt cut open and from the struggling, gurgling sounds, it’s obvious he’s battling a great deal to breathe. His head is turned to the side and one arm is stretched out, clinging to his phone. Luckily, he was able to phone his twin for help.

Blood is oozing from a wound in his back, and pinkish foam hisses and bubbles from it. Axel is applying pressure on it while Ilkay takes out a piece of plastic and some tape. He places the plastic over the wound and tapes it to 3 sides. It seems to be working. My father keeps his eyes on Jackson’s vitals, checking them regularly. Enrique is sitting close by, his hands in his hair and his face almost just as white as Jackson’s.

Mel runs wildly past me, pulling me from my daze, and I grab her towards me with such force that it hurts when she collides with my chest.

“Woa angel. Where are you running to?” She struggles to get loose, but I just hold on tighter. The next thing I know, I’m being attacked by small fists hitting my chest, but I still don’t let her go.

“Calm down!” I shout at her and the intensity of my voice scares me, but it has the wanted effect on her because she freezes and collapses against my body.

“Ilkay and my dad are busy. Breathe, little angel,” I say with my lips on her neck and it seems to calm her down. The scent of her skin has the same effect on me. How can she have this much control over me? It’s not possible, but it always happens when she’s around. I turn her around so she can see what’s going on, my arms crossed over her chest. We stay frozen, her back resting against me, a million feelings rushing through me all at once. Her body is shaking so badly and I run my hand up and down her arm in a soothing gesture. I’m not sure who’s keeping who calm, but it’s working.

I watch frantically as Ilkay slices a cut between his brother’s ribs and opens it with his finger while sticking a tube inside. Blood and air start running out of the tube, and the distinctive iron scent mixes with the acidic smell of fear, while Jackson’s pale, sweaty body lies silently amidst a sea of scarlet liquid flooding over the floor tiles.

Then he takes a deep breath and it’s as if everybody puffs out the nervous tension they were holding in. Paramedics arrive at the scene, and with the doctors’ help, they put Jackson on the stretcher. Dad checks his vitals again while Ilkay puts a mask over his face to give him some life-sustaining oxygen, his breathing is more normal now.

Jackson removes the mask and gestures for Axel to move closer … he says something and then they pick him up and run to the waiting ambulance as we stand and watch in silence.

“It’s all my fault,” Mel sobs in my arms and I turn her around again. There are tears in her eyes and one slowly makes its way down her cheeks. I wipe it with my thumb while swallowing down the lump in my throat.

“Sorry, come again?” I frown, not understanding how she could be responsible for Jackson’s injury.

“He told me and I didn’t listen.” She sobs again. She’s talking in riddles.

“Mel, what are you talking about?” She looks up and the look in her eyes causes a pain in my chest.

“D … he sent me a message! I should have listened.” I’m beginning to understand, but not sure how a message is related to Jackson. She holds out her phone and I take it from her hand and swipe it before reading the WhatsApp.

D: Mayday! Mayday! A little actor is dying!

I quickly look up at Enrique, still sitting against the wall with his hands in his hair. If I’m reading the message right, he was the target, but because they look the same tonight, his twin got the blow instead. I’ll tell the brothers later, but first, we need to go to the hospital.

“Mel, it is not your fault. Do you hear me?” I wrap her up in my arms so she’s leaning against my chest.

“Sniff pixie dust and soar,” she sniffs softly.

Did she remember it after all these years? I smile. My father told us that confusion improves moods … so if in a difficult situation you should say something strange … to confuse him and hence take his mind off his difficult situation. My sister told me this before each race … and it’s something I’ll never forget.

Axel taps my shoulder to get my attention and I turn my head to look at him, keeping my arms around Mel.

“Jackson said he got a punch in after the man attacked him, and knowing Jackson it would have left a mark,” Axel whispers.

“Yeah, but all the paintball guys will have bruises too,” I say.

“True, but if we check the ones that didn’t participate in the paintball, and they have a mark, we might have a suspect … if not, we know at least it was one of the paintball guys … either way, we can eliminate a lot of people.”

I nod, not eager to let go of Mel. She’s still frozen in my arms.

“You get some guys and the police to help you with that. Dean has a list … make sure you check everybody on it. I’ll take Mel to the hospital.”

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.