Skylar and I were on the road at sunrise the next morning, hoping to make it to Dallas by lunchtime so we could at least be somewhat helpful to the club for the afternoon. She was feeling fine with no problems through the night, and her voice was almost back to normal. I was trying to ignore the way the long ride had me feeling like I had itchy feet again. This was the place I felt the most at home, on the road to nowhere.
After what happened with my unit, it’s like that feeling of not being able to breathe stayed with me in my subconscious, and there would be times where I would have to just pack my shit and leave all of a sudden, no matter where I was.
Maybe it was the feeling of being a sitting duck, or the fear I would be trapped again. I really had no idea, but despite the drama of yesterday, the ride the rest of the way to Dallas had me feeling really good.
The main purpose of us being at this event was to connect with some of the other clubs from across the country which we had close ties with, but it was also important for us to show our faces and support for the charity. The Brothers by Blood chapter in Texas had organized some booths and activities for us to raise money, which included rides for the kids on the back of our bikes and even a few mini choppers for some of the older kids to test drive, among other things.
I knew it was essential to get my bike there and fixed up, given I knew my personal ride would attract a lot of attention.
While the brothers’ rides were all in pristine condition, most of them liked to stick to the sleek black and chrome look. It was sharp, clean and made them look mean as shit, and on top of that, it was harder to identify with no specific markings if at any point there was trouble.
I had decided to go a different route and pay out my ass to have a detailed and intricate pinstriping done on the tank. The picture had a realistic looking bald eagle on either side of the tank right up the front, flying right beside me as I rode, pulling the American flag behind it. The flag waving in the wind. The guy who I paid to design it was the same artist who had drawn up my chest piece. He was fucking amazing, the way he drew brought the artwork to life, and that’s exactly what I wanted.
The bright red and blues were a constant reminder of what I’d been through, and the eagle was essentially how I’d gotten my name, it was like a part of me.
While I’d been through hell and back and was still feeling the ramifications of my choices, there was no way in hell I’d ever regret the things I did for my country. It was who I was. It made me the man I was today, and I’d do it again tomorrow if I had to.
We pulled up outside the hotel the club was staying in a little before 11.00 a.m. A staff member rushed out the front door, the young guy’s eyes lighting up as he took in my bike. He let out a long whistle as I pulled into the loading zone and switched off the engine.
“Wow! I think I definitely like yours the best,” he said in awe, taking a walk around, his eyes roaming. I usually didn’t mind people checking out my baby, but then as I took my helmet off, I noticed his eyes wandering somewhere else, and I didn’t fucking like that one damn bit.
“You check out her ass one more time, and the hotel is going to be missing a bell boy,” I growled, even less amused when Skylar giggled softly as she used my shoulder to steady herself while she climbed off.
He held up his hands and backed away, eyes wide. “S-Sorry man. Didn’t mean to offend your woman,” he stammered with an embarrassed smile.
“You didn’t offend me,” Skylar offered, as she shook out her golden hair from the tight plait she’d had it in, allowing it to fall in soft tendrils down her back.
I huffed as I climbed off the bike and placed my helmet on the seat, Sky doing the same. “We’re only gonna be fifteen minutes or so. You wanna be helpful? You watch my shit until we get back.”
The kid rushed forward, his head bouncing like a bobblehead. “Of course, man, whatever you need! You don’t have to worry about anyone scratching this baby, it’ll be nice and safe in my hands.” Crossing his arms, he puffed out his chest like he was ready to take on fucking Superman before he let harm come to my ride.
With a snort, I grabbed Skylar’s hand and headed for the front door. “You scratch it, you better start running,” I called over my shoulder.
Skylar elbowed me in the side, but I ignored her as I spoke to the woman at the front desk who was apparently unfazed by my harsh demeanor and sharp tone. Given all the chapters of the Brothers by Blood were staying in this hotel, she’d probably already met a lot worse.
Not saying we were all assholes, but we tended to be a bit more… okay, so maybe we were assholes.
We grabbed the key and headed to the elevators. Skylar was quiet, leaning against the mirrored wall as we rode up to the sixth floor, her eyes closed and her breathing light.
“You should stay here and sleep,” I told her with a frown. I knew she hadn’t slept much last night because I’d laid awake for just as long, if not longer, my body and mind refusing to crash. The day had been a complete clusterfuck, and when she’d walked into that bathroom, offering me a reprieve, I’d fucking taken it with both hands, not really contemplating at the time what it would mean.
She’d made it clear, it was nothing more, nothing different than what she would do with my brothers, given it was her duty and all that damn bullshit. I wanted to call her bluff, but instead, I’d taken the easy way out and gone along with it.
I couldn’t see myself with an old lady. Not saying I hadn’t entertained the idea before and even had one or two which could have led in that direction, but they ran eventually.
Skylar didn’t bother to open her eyes and look at me, she simply shook her head. “I’m fine, I just need to get out of these clothes and into some fresh ones,” she said quietly, her nose twitching like a little bunny rabbit and bringing a smile to my face. She finally opened her eyes and peeked at me grinning. “Seriously, I’m surprised people aren’t passing out as I walk by.”
The elevator dinged and we both stepped out, walking side by side down the hall as we eyed the room numbers.
“You’re absolutely fine,” I said gruffly as I swiped the keycard over the pad on the door. The light turned green, and I pushed it open. Skylar rushed inside, spotting her backpack on the large bed and snatched it up before diving into the bathroom.
I rolled my eyes, making a beeline for my duffle bag, stripping off my shirt as I crossed the room.
I knew what she meant. We both felt dirty and gross after sweating through our clothes, rolling around in a smoking car and then, after having a shower, having to put the offending items back on again. It didn’t feel nice putting dirty clothes back on a clean body.
It took me less than five minutes to strip and change, and surprisingly, Skylar shot out of the bathroom as I was putting my boots back on.
My eyes traveled up her legs, her bare fucking legs, to a pair of Daisy Dukes that barely covered her ass cheeks. Then if that wasn’t enough to send my cock springing through my jeans, the top she had on was a black Brothers by Blood MC shirt that had been cut off just above her belly button, the short sleeves rolled up to her shoulders. Her riding boots gave her that cowgirl meets biker look that had me considering for a moment, calling Op and telling him something had come up. It wouldn’t be a fucking lie considering the way the front of my jeans now held a significant bulge.