Page 62 of Bitten By Zombie

“So do I,” Croon quipped. “But I didn’t even know what it was. Hook just wouldn’t shut up about one and I had to Google the fuck out of it to find one and to even know what it looked like.”

“Thanks, brother,” Hook murmured at Croon’s confession. “Thanks to all of you, this is amazing. Definitely better than the strippers you hired for my party, right?”

Well, Heidi hadn’t hired strippers for the party, so she saw her opportunity to slip away. “Well, that’s my cue. I forgot the strippers. How many, Hook? Three enough?”

She’d hire twenty strippers if it got her inside.

“Don’t run away before you answer Santa’s question, Rabbit.” Squatch emphasized the nickname Zombie gave her the first night they’d met.

“Yeah.” Pretty much all of them were in agreement.

“Fine.” She turned and crossed her arms. She didn’t know why it was a big deal. “I always had an affinity for cars. I sat in on a few classes in college.”

When they remained silent and skeptical, she threw her arms up.

“The few classes sparked my interest, I guess you could say I was bitten by the car bug and they became a passion. So I read about cars. A lot, and when I wasn’t working on art at Jimmy’s, I followed the guys around and paid attention. Jimmy was teaching me mechanics when I wasn’t welding.”

They still stared.

“Good god, it is called knowledge. Pick up a book sometimes you creatines and you might learn things too. You know…” She took the weld gun from Santa. “Knowledge is power, duh.”

“Fuck, prez, you hit the fucking Powerball.”

“Don’t I know it.” Zombie beamed at the compliment to her.

The men all oohed and ahhed over Hook’s new car. There were a lot of bro-hugs and camaraderie. They all seem genuinely happy for her and Zombie and for Hook’s new car. It was so at odds with TV shows and beliefs about motorcycle clubs.

Were they ruthless when they had to be?

Hell yes.

Did they obey the law?

Depended on the law and the reason for breaking it.

Were they loyal until they had a reason not to be?

Yeah.

Did they love harder than anyone else she’d met in her entire life?

Fuck yeah.

She looked around the yard. There was more love in that one place than the whole fucking state of Utah.

Again, that overwhelming sense of family washed over her.

The leather-wearing, tattooed bikers with dirty hands of the RBMC knew more about family than ninety-nine percent of the biologically connected people in the world.

The men dispersed and Zombie caught her up in his arms and strode for the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Babe, if you don’t know what I’m doing by now, I haven’t been doing it right.”

“I know what you’re doing, it’s just, I have art to create and strippers to hire.”

“Strippers can wait. Right now, I need to get you naked and fuck the shit out of you.”

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