I rest my chin on my palm, looking at him. “Ok. Why don’t we start with our favorite hobbies? That should be easy. Mine is dance, as you know.”
“Mine is …” He frowns.
“You’re telling me you don’t have a hobby?”
“No …”
“Yes, you are! Matteo, you seriously don’t have a hobby?”
He gives me a pointed look. “I thought we agreed not to judge each other anymore.”
I hold up my hands. “I’m not. It’s just surprising. I thought everyone had a hobby.”
“My life has been so consumed by the club that I haven’t really had time for anything else.”
“That’s … sad.”
He barks a laugh. “Wow. Tell me how you really feel.”
I curl my legs under me and get comfortable in my seat. “It is! Everyone should have something they like to do beyond work. What did you like to do before you became a biker?”
“I was in school. And when I wasn’t in school, I was getting drunk or high … or getting into trouble. I went from school to the club the minute I turned eighteen.”
“What kind of trouble did you get into?” I can only imagine.
He rubs his neck. “I used to vandalize my school. I’d sneak in and spray paint the walls and teachers’ desks. I’d mess with the toilets so they’d explode.”
I scrunch my nose. “That’s disgusting.”
He gives me a cheeky grin. “Well, some things stay the same.”
“Always the vandal, huh? I guess that’s what drew you to join the club?”
“It was. I had no family to support. I had no job prospects. So, when I was eighteen, I heard of the biker club from a friend of mine, and I asked if I could join. The leader at the time, Lorenzo, took me in and mentored me. Though, that didn’t mean I didn’t have to do any grunt work. Trust me. I had to do so much grunt work. I had to clean the bathrooms for years. And when a large group of men come and go in those bathrooms, god, it’s fucking disgusting.”
“It must have been payback for all those times you pranked the toilets in school.”
He chuckles. “Yeah. You’re right. It must have been. It was the world’s way of self-correcting.”
“So, how did you become the boss?”
“After Lorenzo, his son, Daniel, was supposed to take his place. But he dies. So Lorenzo turned to me as his surrogate son. He’d known me for over seven years at that point and thought I’d make a good boss. So, at twenty-five, I became the boss and have been for the past five years.”
“What happened to Lorenzo? I didn’t see any older men around the place last night.”
Matteo’s face darkens. “He died.”
“I’m sorry.” And I mean it. I know what it’s like to lose a parent. “How, if I may ask?”
“Some bastards kidnapped him and killed him. One of our rivals. A biker club known as the Devil’s Rats. After I found out they were the ones who killed Lorenzo, it didn’t take me long to hunt them all down.” His implied meaning isn’t lost on me.
“You killed them all?”
“I did. And I’m damn proud of it. I’d kill anyone to protect the ones I love.”
I gulp. “So … you’d killed anyone for me?”
“I would.”