Page 2 of Barker

It would most definitely be big bucks, but there’s a slight chance it’d be a huge loss. Barker is a legend at the drag races. I think he’s only lost like a handful of times since he got his license, so if I got stuck racing him there’s a good chance I could lose more money than I can afford to. I shake my head and step back behind the safety of the door so Talon can’t see how badly I want to say yes. “I can’t.”

“What? You’re kidding right?”

“No, I have class then I need to check on dad before work. I can’t squeeze a race in there.”

Talon laughs. “Yes, you can, so why don’t you quit bullshitting and tell me what’s really going on?”

I sigh, because I’m going to have to come clean. Talon won’t let it go unless I do. “Okay, fine. Here it is. As much as I would love to race tonight, I can’t race against Barker. It’s a big winifI win, but there’s a chance I could lose. Barker is basically undefeated.”

Talon smirks. “So are you. Look, I believe you can beat him. I’ll cover half the buy-in.”

“Talon…” I start to say, but he cuts me off. “No Annistyn. You’re racing. Have a great day in class. Tell your dad hi from me and that I’ll see him on Sunday for poker, and I’ll see you tonight at ten.” With that, he turns around and heads out the door. I hate to take Talon’s money for a race I might not win. I mean, he does more than enough already, but I know if I were to argue this point it’d be a losing battle, so there’s only one thing I can do. Show up at the Sons of Sin’s clubhouse tonight and beat Barker Tobin in his own drag race. Yeah, no pressure, no pressure at all.

Two

Barker

The pounding in my head is the only reminder that I need to know that I pushed my limits too hard last night. I roll over and stare at the ceiling and let the air from the ceiling fan above cool down my overheated body. Every time I end up with a hangover, I end up sweating like a pig. It’s not attractive, and since I have a reputation to uphold, I usually avoid drinking this heavily. I should have last night, but it had been a shit day that led to a shit night, and I needed the escape that the bottle full of amber liquid allowed.

Yesterday was the anniversary of my grandpa’s death. It always seems to be extremely hard on me and I never handle it well. I don’t know if it’s because our time was cut short and suddenly I was left alone in the world with no one to turn to or what, but it sucks. I had driven my bike out to the cemetery to visit him… well his ashes at least. He was my whole family so it’s hard to go there sometimes. It’s a scary-ass thought when you have to face that reality. It’s one of those things I try not to think about. I try to run away or hide from it, but on days like that, I can’t.

Afterward, I had to be at work. Ever since the Sons of Sin's Clubhouse and bar, Sinner’s Den, was rebuilt and reopened, it has been booming. The Sons of Sin wasn’t always a positive staple in the city. Especially with the old president ruling, but I’ve changed things with the help of Zayde, Drake, and the rest of the brothers. Our club is good and well respected now which makes us all happier. We often ride for military funerals, help the police in large dangerous crowd situations, and are always available to help truckers or others when driving. However, after the clubhouse and bar were nearly burnt to the ground by Chuck, the leader of one of the other motorcycle clubs here in Los Angeles, which led us to also find out about his illegal drug trafficking that landed him behind bars—the community has been even more supportive. So supportive, that Drake was actually talking about hiring some extra help because we, the brothers of Sons of Sin and I, just don’t seem to be enough anymore.

It’s not that I mind the extra help because, to be honest, spending more time at Sinner’s Den means less time for me to race. It’s just that Sinner’s Den is a motorcycle club thing. It’s always had a Sons of Sin member behind it, so to allow outsiders in just seems wrong.

A wave of nausea hits me and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to fight it off. I need to get myself together. I have to help one of the brothers, Wilder, build something for his girlfriend, Bryar. Girlfriend, there’s a foreign concept for the Sons of Sin brothers, or at least it was until they started pairing off. First Drake and Zoey, then Wilder and Bryar, I’m just waiting for the day when Stryker and Arbor realize they are meant to be together. Hell, even Brayzen is a one-woman man since meeting Isla. It’s kind of ridiculous. They all keep telling me how I’ll meet the right one someday, like I’m missing something out of life, but they don’t get it. I like my life. I have the life I want. I don’t want just one girl.

My phone starts to ring from the nightstand. It’s already pretty late in the day, but between work, alcohol, and Kelly—I was dead tired last night. I slowly sit up in the bed before getting up and heading for the shower. I need to get to Wilder, but I definitely need to shower first. It’s going to be a busy day and then tonight I have the races. It’s the best night of the week so far. Talon, the new Sons of Sin prospect, is saving my ass. I was so thankful when he said he knew someone who could take John’s place. I mean, I’m going to win no matter what because I don’t lose, but at least it’s kind of a race as long as there is another car beside me. I mean, that’s what the crowd wants. They hold onto the hope that the poor fool next to me might actually beat me. I guess they like the disappointment.

I grab the keys to my bike and head out the door. I’m just putting my helmet on when my phone starts ringing again. I grab it and see it’s Wilder. “Damn, dude, don’t get your panties in a bunch, I’m on my damn way.”

“Have you left yet?” he asks, but his tone sounds worried. Instantly, I’m on alert.

“No, why?”

“There’s a situation down at Daughters of Darkness strip club. Brayzen could use some backup. I’m heading that way, but you’re still closer.”

“I’m on my way,” I tell him, as I throw my helmet on and start my bike, the engine roaring to life. I didn’t even think or care to ask what kind of situation. If Brayzen needs backup then I’m there, because that’s what we do. We stick by one another through thick and thin. The club is like a family.

The Daughters of Darkness strip club is one of the nicest strip clubs, well as nice as a strip club can be in Los Angeles, and usually takes about twenty minutes to reach it from the Sons of Sin clubhouse, but I made it in half the time today. It’s a good thing speed doesn’t scare me. I come to a grinding halt in a parking space facing the front door. Taking off my helmet, it doesn’t take long to recognize the other bikes parked to the left of me. Jerick.

Jerick started running around with Chuck’s club when he was just a teen. I remember him vaguely. Back then, he had seemed like a naïve nice kid looking for something to belong to. Within a year, he was their newest prospect, then a full-fledged member. There was no time to try and save him. For whatever reason, he felt a loyalty to Chuck that couldn’t be swayed. Now, he’s taken over the club from what I’ve heard and it looks like he’s out to give Brayzen a hard time.

I stomp up to the front door. When I enter, I’m not shocked to find it mostly empty. Most people, even the regulars, don’t hit a bar or strip club this early. The room is still dimly lit and the bartender looks like he’s ready to bolt. A couple of girls are dancing on the stage, but they aren’t really into it. There are a few stragglers perched around the stage, but none of them are paying attention to the girls. All eyes are fixed on the scene in the middle of the room. Brayzen and Jerick, standing toe-to-toe. Two of Jerick’s trusted followers flanking either side of him. Even from here, I can tell words are being said.

My blood boils. Jerick and his low lives have their side of town. They have their territory that we all stay off of. They need to remember the lines, because right now they are on neutral ground but it’s pretty damn close to Sons of Sin land. I march over to where they are standing. “What seems to be the problem here?” I ask. Jerick glares at me.

“Stay out of it, Sons of Sin.”

I laugh, but it’s a sarcastic one. “No can do.”

“This is between me and Brayzen,” he says, pointing to my cousin.

“Then it involves me. Brayzen and Sons of Sin are one and the same, you know that. Brayzen is family, so it involves me now,” I tell him, as I meet his glare with one of my own.

The front door opens and Talon, who doesn’t hesitate to jump in the middle, marches over with a pissed-off look on his face. His hands are balled into fists. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

“Go home, Jerick,” Talon spits out.

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