Page 18 of A Biker for Noelle
Eazy
The scent of bourbon and burning wood from inside lingers in the air as I step outside, the heavy door creaking behind me as it swings shut. The bar is packed, alive with laughter and the clinking of glasses, but I need a break from the chaos to breathe. I’m trying to clear my head because thoughts of Noelle have occupied my headspace most of the night.
The cold bites at my skin as I lean against the bar’s exterior, welcoming the chill to seep into my bones. I let the quiet wash over me and fish a half-empty pack of cigarettes from my pocket.
The parking lot light flickers outside the bar, casting a ghostly glow on the pavement below my feet as I stand by the entrance. I cup my hands and shield the flame as I light the tip of my cigarette. The flame dances as it catches fire. I inhale deeply, the smoke curling upward, merging with the cold night air. I hear the laughter echoing through the bar’s walls as my eyes scan the lot.
My thoughts drift back to Noelle and the possibility of a threat following her to our small town. I knew trouble was on her heels before taking her in and offering Noelle and her brother refuge. I take another drag, the smoke filling my lungs, and exhale slowly. Flicking the ash from my cigarette, I watch the snow fall softly from the sky.
But there is more to it than helping Noelle and her brother stay safer—much more.
The woman has a hold on me I can’t explain or deny. Noelle stirs feelings I haven’t felt before.
I’m content with my life and not being chained to one woman. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself, yet the more I think about it, the more it feels like a lie. Noelle’s path crossing with mine is no accident, but it’s unpredictable, and that alone weighs heavily on me.
I crush the cigarette under my boot, watching the embers die against the snow. I take a deep breath, feeling the cold air slice through the uncertainty that has settled heavily on my shoulders, and push off the side of the wall.
Whatever battles lay ahead, one thing remains unwavering—I will keep Noelle, Zack, and the club safe.
I take a deep breath before heading back inside, where warmth envelops me like a thick wool blanket.
Inside the bar, the mood is alive with energy. Laughter and shouting compete with the music blaring as a jukebox in the corner belts out a classic Johnny Cash song.
I glance around, surveying the scene. My brothers, solid as the bikes they ride, laugh, drink, and shoot the shit playing games of pool as the patrons mingle, talking and dancing among themselves, smoke curling from the half-lit cigarettes, spiraling toward the ceiling.
As I move deeper into the bar, I catch sight of Noelle, serving drinks for those thirsty for a taste of the freedom of a Saturdaynight. Her chestnut brown hair swings as she moves, catching the light and making her presence more magnetic. She serves drinks at a men’s table, winking to Bradley, a young man who works for the timber company here in town. I know him and his old man well. They cut me some good deals on lumber when I was having my home built. He’s an honest, hardworking man, but not a damn bit of it lessens the reaction I’m experiencing now. A jolt of jealousy streaks through me as he shoots her a smile, looking her over with interest. I clench my fists hanging at my sides, trying like hell to refrain from strolling over there and slamming his face into the whiskey-stained table, claiming Noelle right now.
“You good?” I feel Brewer’s hand grip my shoulder, but I don’t reply. He follows my murderous stare aimed at Bradley. In my peripheral vision, I see his amused grin, and it adds fuel to the fire in my chest. “Come on, brother. Let’s get a drink to douse those flames.”
Needing the distraction, I pull my attention away from Noelle and join my brother at the bar, where Rooster places an unopened bottle of whiskey in front of us with a couple of shot glasses. Brewer pours a heavy hand of liquor into each glass.
I lift the drink to my lips and tilt my head back. A river of warmth flows through me as the whiskey slides down my throat, battling the cold churn of jealousy coiling in my gut.
“Why fight it?” Brewer’s voice breaks through the haze. “Hell, you’ve already moved her and the boy into your home. We all know you want her, so go fuckin’ claim her.”
The whiskey does nothing to dull the sharp edges of my frustration. I scan the room, my eyes landing on Noelle, who is making her way toward the bar. The muscles in my jaw tighten again to keep my feelings at bay as she steps beside me to retrieve another order of drinks.
“The atmosphere in this place is electric tonight,” Noelle exclaims as she gracefully gathers her long hair and twists it into a carefree bun. I find myself unable to look away as she takes a deep breath, turns, and flashes me a radiant smile while balancing a tray full of drinks. As our eyes meet, a force takes hold, almost overpowering my determination to remain seated. And by the fire in her eyes, I can tell she feels it, too. Noelle goes silent, severing our connection. With a confident stride, she navigates through the lively room, making her way to the far side of the bar.
“Fuck, brother. You two need to deal with those flames before they engulf the whole bar,” Brewer exclaims as he downs a shot. “I need to find pussy to take home after dealing with that.”
I’m on the verge of telling him to shut the fuck up when my attention shifts to the entrance. Five men swagger into the bar, instantly altering the vibe in the room. Their smug expressions make it clear that trouble might be on the horizon. And by the looks of it, these fuckers are already intoxicated. I keep my eyes on them as they make their way over to an unoccupied pool table.
“They could be trouble,” I mutter to Brewer, sitting at my side. He follows my line of sight and keeps his eyes on the group, too.
Laughter erupts from the group, followed by the loud thud of fists hitting the table. “Let’s get some service over here,” the larger of five, with a bald head and brown beard, bellows.
One of the motherfuckers, reaches out and grabs Noelle by the wrist, yanking her toward him. “Come here, sweetheart! Let’s have some fun,” his loud voice carries over the music.
A fire ignites in my chest. Before I can process it further, I’m moving, my boots thudding against the floorboards. Brewer is behind me, and my other brothers are closing in.
“Hey, motherfucker,” I shout, my voice razor-sharp, cutting through the noise of the bar, chatter and laughter dying instantly.
The man holding onto Noelle locks eyes with me. “What’s your problem, asshole?” he taunts, squaring his shoulders.
“You, motherfucker.” I step closer, feeling the heat radiate off my skin.
“Mind your business, biker!” Another dumbass steps forward. He clenches his fists, and his eyes narrow aggressively. Brewer reacts, and his fist catapults forward, connecting with the man’s gut.
