Page 26 of Her Biker Daddy

It’s easy to do that when I don’t go around them without Tate usually. Normally if he’s busy, I’ll head back up to our rooms, or I’ll head over to the library and play on the computer or browse the books they’ve collected. Most of them aren’t ones I’d enjoy, but some of the club girls have apparently been readers and there are some pretty hot romance books in the place.

Most of the club girls give me a wide berth, but I’m on friendly terms with Andrea and Mona. Both of them came to the club for help getting away from abusive relationships and neither want the entanglement of another. They both like sex though, so being club girls works for them.

The one thing that I’m happiest about, other than daddy killing Grover—or us doing it together, which doesn’t weigh on me at all—is that Lori is no longer allowed anywhere near the club house, on the property, or to be called property of the club. She had the audacity to follow Tate into the bathroom a little over two weeks ago and grab his cock before he could zip his pants, trying to make him hard, and he lost his shit. I only kept mine because of just how hot he was. If Spawn hadn’t drug her out by her hair I think he’d have buried his knife in her for what she did.

He didn’t care what the others said any longer, told the ones that tried to get him to back down that they could fuck her if they wanted, but they couldn’t do it there, and that if they tried to bring her back onto the property, they’d be out of the club as well. Last I heard, she was living in one of the trailer parks and was begging one of the guys to make her his old lady so she could come back. Tate’s threat about them being kicked out won and most of them have given her up, moving onto the other club girls to get whatever fill they want.

I smile as Tate brushes a kiss to my temple when we settle in for breakfast. Unless I ask for something before we get here, daddy’s taken to ordering for me, and somehow, it always hits the spot, so I grin when he asks for French toast and sausage scramble for me.

“Got to make sure my girl’s fed well today,” he says, dropping another kiss on my temple, and I lean against him in the new seat he brought in. It’s not a bench, but a double-chair with a single curved back, and it’s perfect so I can be close but not always have to be on his lap.

Yes, I love being on his lap most, but when he’s not feeding me, I like to sit on my own, so I don’t get in his way. We have new chairs or spots in most of the common areas. There’s an overstuffed recliner in the theater that we use when we watch movies on the giant screen hung on the stage. And a love seat in the bar that’s ours. The others aren’t allowed to sit in them, or have sex on them, so I don’t have to wonder who got up to what and where.

I was right about there being a gym. The guys finished it, putting up basketball hoops, and filled the weight room with whatever equipment they wanted, and watching daddy work out always makes me hungry for him.

There’s another wing of the school that wasn’t finished and for the most part, it’s now just a huge open space. The walls for classrooms were already erected but not completely finished, so it doesn’t really have a purpose, unlike the rest of the rooms along the first floor which are pretty much all bedrooms. The second floor they turned into suites for the ranking members or those that have been around longest, so it’s no surprise to run into guys any which way you turn. Thankfully, it seems the concrete blocks block out most noises, so I don’t hear if they’re doing dirty things, but it also means they can’t hear when daddy and I get loud.

The food is amazing as usual, and I do my best to relax as we head towards the offices to wait for the lawyer to arrive.

Cash is inside already working on the books for all of the businesses the club owns, and he shoots me a smile and a nod when Tate isn’t looking. Out of all of the other ranks, he’s the one I’ve gotten to know most, in the last month. He’s like a big brother to me now and teases me in ways that Tate doesn’t mind. He always leaves me with Cash or Meyer if he needs to leave the room for just a few minutes, but I like it when it’s Cash more—and not just because I know he’s not interested in me sexually whereas Meyer might be if he wanted to risk his neck against Tate.

No, it’s because Cash is way closer to my age and more like me in terms of what we enjoy in a sexual relationship. Meyer is older than daddy and only enjoys easy sex, whereas Cash is only twenty-five, which surprised me to learn since he handles the books for the whole club. His father was a member which had Cash around the club most of his life and he was naturally drawn into the club when he was eighteen, taking over for his dad when he died unexpectedly of a heart attack one night two years ago.

He found me in the library a little over a week ago just browsing the internet. Mostly I was looking at things for the playroom daddy’s going to build us and he just chuckled, before showing me a different site that had some more quality made items that would last longer than the plastic ones I’d found.

His comment about wanting to find his own daddy got us talking, which led to a discussion I didn’t tell Tate about, not sure if he’d approve. It’s a risk to Cash if things go wrong, but a potential victory for us if they go right, which Cash said was worth it, if it meant being able to take down the chief of police.

Always being the one that is punished at school meant being forced to deal with the creep more than I’d have ever liked, but it also left me privy to some information that would likely get him and his friends the death penalty if it got out. The only problem was being able to get someone to take it seriously when I didn’t have any proof and no bodies to go along with the crimes I know they’ve committed.

My conscious wants him found out and punished for doing things that daddy’s also done—that I helped do with daddy—but when it comes to the heart of it, what daddy did was warranted. What the chief’s done, isn’t. It’s vile and heartless and he deserves to burn in hell for it. Whereas daddy only punished the guilty. The cops and Grover that tried or wanted to rape me. Hinton and the others that wanted to traffic kids. They all deserved to die, but the guys that the chief has killed didn’t.

I saw the missing posters of the ones he had pictures of in his office that day. Pictures of their dead bodies. Of him holding up their dismembered heads like a trophy, grinning like the true psychopath he is. I found social media pages dedicated to them, read the things people wrote about them, and not one of them deserved to die because the chief and his friends are the biggest homophobes I’ve ever met.

The chief lures them in, takes them out into the woods based on the pictures, and then he and his friends kill them. That’s the difference in what they do and what daddy’s done and why I have no problem accepting Tate’s actions while condemning theirs.

I settle onto his lap as we wait, relaxing into his loving hold, while his lips tease me until Cash clears his voice, bringing my eyes open. There’s a flush on his face and I’m a little curious as to why until a man that’s likely forty-five or older fills in the space of the doorway behind him. He reminds me of daddy but there are definitely differences in them I can instantly see as well. They both have their hair buzzed on the sides, the top longer and have beards, but daddy’s mustache blends into his while this man’s is like the handlebar ones, but it suits him somehow. So do the hoops he wears in his ears compared to the spacers that daddy said he got when he was in his early twenties and kept in because without them, his ears just gaped and looked weird.

The newcomer’s beard is longer but just as well maintained as daddy’s is, and I love brushing through daddy’s after we’re spent. It’s coarse but yet soft and when it nuzzles against my cheek or my thighs, it feels so good. This man’s might be soft but the sharp point of it doesn’t look welcoming somehow. His face is lined more than daddy’s is, and the lines are deeper, as are his blue eyes that don’t hold the same softness as they look at me as daddy’s always do.

No, he’s a biker I’d have been afraid of, unlike when daddy came into the diner and put me immediately at ease.

“This is Law from the Relentless Keepers,” Cash says, stepping aside so the other man can come closer.

“We’ve met before,” Tate replies, standing us up before reaching out to shake the other man’s hand.

“Four, no five years ago when you all stopped by our place after a run to hide out from the cops,” Law says, and he nods. “You weren’t president then.”

“No, I took over about three years ago after refusing to let our previous president push us into human trafficking,” he says and Law nods slowly before looking at me with a half-smile that calms my fears immensely. His eyes soften, not in the same way as daddy’s, but they’re not that same glittering hardness they were when he walked in here.

“Guess I know why you didn’t take up with any of our club girls when they offered. Weren’t the right type.”

“Nope, sometimes in order to find the perfect little girl, you have to look for someone that would stick out in that crowd,” Tate adds, and I grin, resting into his side as he motions towards the seats in the room. “I know it was a bit of a ride in this morning having to come all the way across the city with the morning rush. You want something to drink before we get into this? We’ve got a fully stocked kitchen if you want anything to eat as well.”

“I wouldn’t turn down some coffee and I’m a man that can always eat,” Law says with a chuckle as he puts his jacket and bag down next to a chair across from the love seat where we were.

“Black or do you like sugar or cream for it?” Cash asks, and Law’s eyes slide over towards him, a bit of that hardness returning to them.

“Why don’t you take a guess, and I’ll let you know if you’re right when you bring it back,” he returns with a non-answer and way Cash swallows and breathes out, has me quickly understanding why he was flushed earlier. “Get me something I like to eat, and I’ll make it worth the effort,” he adds, and I bite my lip until Cash is out of the office, feeling a little sorry for him when he almost ran into the doorjamb on his way out.

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