Angels from Hell: A Biker Erotic Romance (3 page)

I hear Charlie’s breath roar in my ears as he sighs. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Is it drugs?” I ask, my heart in my throat.

Charlie chuckles. “Is that what you think? No. It’s not drugs. Mom would come back and haunt me if I were involved in drugs.”

“Okay, so it’s not drugs. But it’s illegal, isn’t it?”

Charlie doesn’t answer for a long time. I wait him out. “Better you not know. Is it illegal? Yes, but it’s not what you think. Listen, Claire, there are a lot of things that are illegal that don’t hurt anyone. We sped most of the way here from Green Bay. That’s illegal, but it doesn’t hurt anyone. Hell, I’m doing 55 in a 45 as we speak, so I’m breaking the law. What I’m doing is kind of like this. Illegal, but not really hurting anyone.”

“I heard Shep say you could die.”

“That’s right. I could. We could get hit by a car and killed around the next corner, too. Don’t worry about it, okay? There are no drugs, knives, guns, or anything like that involved. Nobody is being forced to do something they don’t want to do. We’re just out having a little fun, that’s all.” He reaches back with his left hand and pats my leg. “Don’t sweat it, okay?”

Talking with Charlie makes me feel a little better. At least it isn’t drugs, which is what I thought it was. But try as I might, I can’t figure out what he might be involved in. No matter how much I beg, he won’t tell me anything else. I finally give up and begin to enjoy the rest of the ride. I find that I like the feeling of freedom while I’m on the bike. The seat and ride are surprisingly comfortable, too.

“Huh-oh,” Charlie says slowing rapidly.

“What?”

“I think we have a tire going down.”

As we slow, I can feel the bike moving in an odd way, like it isn’t rolling straight anymore. Charlie wrestles the bike along until we find a place wide enough to pull off of the road. We were last in line. By the time I dismount, Shep and a couple others are slowing down, preparing to turn around and check on us.

“What’s wrong? Oh.” Shep says looking at the bike. He pulls out his cell phone. “No bars. You want me to go get you a tow?”

“I got it,” Charlie says, looking at the bike as if it has insulted him. “I have a plug kit and a compressor-”

“Can I help?” I ask, interrupting Charlie.

“No thanks, Claire. I just need to find the hole and plug it. Hang on a minute, Shep. Chuck, if y’all want to go on, Shep and I can handle it,” Charlie says, addressing the other two men that came back with Shep.

As they ride off, Charlie begins to bark orders. “Shep, help me muscle this bitch up onto the center stand.” Charlie grabs the bike. Shep gets on the other side. With a grunt, they lift the bike up, allowing the rear tire to spin freely.

Charlie lies down the ground and begins to turn the wheel. “If I can’t plug it, you’ll need to get me a tow. Otherwise, I’ll just fix it here. It’ll be quicker and easier. Ah, there you are, you bitch. It’s a screw,” Charlie says getting to his feet.

“You can fix it? Here? On the side of the road?” I ask, impressed.

“Yep,” Charlie confirms. “Why don’t you ride on with Shep? Depending on how long it takes to fix, I will either catch up or see you at home.”

“I don’t know, Charlie,” I say.

“You don’t want to just stand around and listen to me cuss at the bike do you?” Charlie asks with a grin.

“No, but-”

“Claire,” Shep says. “I’m harmless. I won’t bite. Promise.”

I’m torn. I don’t want to ride with Shep, but I don’t want to stand around and bake in the sun either. It’s so damn hot in North Carolina, even in early April. “You’re sure you don’t mind if I go?” I ask Charlie. “Do you mind if I ride behind you?” I ask turning to Shep.

“Actually, I feel better with you going,” Charlie says. “One less thing to have to worry about if this goes badly.”

“I would be honored to provide the lady a lift,” Shep says gallantly.

I wipe at the trickle of sweat forming on my brow. “It’s so
damn
hot!” I complain. “Okay. Thanks, Shep.”

“Just wait until summer,” Charlie says with a grin.

***

I crawl onto the back of Shep’s bike. The bike is similar to Charlie’s, but not nearly so comfortable. Once Shep gets on the road, he rides hard for thirty minutes or so until he catches the rest of the Kings. I still have on the helmet that Charlie loaned me; but, I have no place to plug in the wire, so I can’t talk to Shep.

The group pulls over at a small gas station and everyone dismounts. Shep fills the group in on Charlie and there is a brief discussion about going back to help. When Shep asks who among them thought they could fix Charlie’s bike if Charlie couldn’t, it elicits a laugh from the group. They decided to proceed with the ride. Shep assures them he will check on Charlie if he doesn’t catch up or isn’t at home when we get there.

I lean against Shep’s bike, sipping my soda, sweating like a pig, and rethinking my decision to move south. “Shep, will you tell me something?” I ask.

“Sure.”

“I was talking to Charlie about what you two are doing. It doesn’t sound safe to me.” I say, trying to sound like I know more than I do.

“He told you?” Shep says in surprise.

“Well, I had to wheedle it out of him, but yeah he told me.”

“Then, he must have told you we do everything we can to keep the riders safe,” Shep says.

Now, I’m stuck. I don’t have a clue what to say to that. “Yeah, he said that, but he didn’t say how,” I finally say, mentally crossing my fingers.

“We sweep the corners. We put people at the crossroads and corners on the circuit. We watch for the cops. A couple of the Kings are EMTs. They are always there with their equipment. Not much else we can do. That’s why people come here. Good roads and we take it seriously. We don’t want anyone hurt.” Shep grins. “Well, nothing but their pride anyway.”

“Their pride?”

“Yeah. They think we are a couple of country bumpkins. Until they get here and Charlie blows them into the weeds.”

It finally clicks. “You’re racing?” I say, louder than I mean too.

“Yeah. What did…” Shep begins, then pauses. “He didn’t tell you, did he?” he says sourly. “You played me like a wanker.”

I smile tightly. “Yeah, I guess I did,” I say, then I soften. “I’m sorry, Shep. I had to know.”

Shep sets his mouth in a hard line. “What are you going to do? Turn in your own brother?”

“What’s your involvement in this?” 

Shep clams up, but as I stare at him waiting for him to answer, he relents. “I’m his manager,” Shep says, making tick marks in the air with his fingers when he says manager. “I set up the races. Make sure the track is ready. Hold the money, etc.”

“Where do you race?”

“Not far from here, actually. We call it the
Mini-Man,
after the Isle of Man race
.
There is a section of road about ten miles from here that forms a fourteen mile loop through a national forest. There aren’t any roads that cross it. We start the riders two minutes apart. One lap, fastest time wins.”

“You do this in the middle of the night? Is that where you go?”

“Can’t very well do it in the middle of the day. That would be dangerous,” Shep says with a grin.

“You think this is funny?” I snap.

“No. I think you are over reacting,” Shep says just a firmly. “Charlie is natural. He’s never lost. Well, not since he started winning. He wears armor. Except for racing at night, he’s as safe as he would be on a race track. Almost,” Shep finally admits.

“Why is he doing this? For that matter, why are you?”

“We’re going to go into business together,” Shep says. “We’re going to open a custom bike shop. Charlie is going to build them, I’m going to run the business.”

“You?” I ask in disbelief.

“What? Don’t think I can do it?” Shep says with a smile. “I have a MBA, I’ll have you know.”

That surprises me. “And you are racing to raise the money?”

“That’s right,” Shep says. “Banks look at us and laugh in our face. We can do this. Charlie Decker’s reputation is getting around. We have people ride up from Greensboro, Raleigh, Charlotte, Nashville, you name it. They all come to have Charlie work on and customize their bikes.”

“So Charlie is going to build the bikes and raise the money to open-”

“Not all of the money, Claire,” Shep interrupts. “I sold my car and my house to raise my portion. That’s why I live with Charlie. I have $125,000 sitting in an account at the bank, waiting for Charlie to get his. Claire, I’m not trying to take advantage of your brother. He’s my best friend. We joined the Kings at the same time. We watch out for each other. When I found out Charlie was street racing, I tried to get him to stop; but, he wouldn’t. I knew he wanted to open a shop, so we hatched this plan.”

I pause to think, my mind swirling. “You have a name for this adventure?” I ask.

“Blue Mountain Cycles,” Shep says. “I have a complete five-year plan at home if you want to see it.”

I toss my empty bottle into the recycle can. “Okay. This isn’t as bad as I was afraid it was going to be. It still sounds dangerous as hell. What happened Saturday?” I ask, recalling what they had said earlier.

“Charlie was tired. Sloppy. He nearly lost. I time him. He calls landmarks and I mark the times. That way I can tell him if he needs to push or not. Saturday, he had to push. Hard.”

“Charlie never did have any sense,” I mutter. “Why didn’t he call it off?”

“You can’t just call it off, Claire. We plan these races months in advance. This was the first race of the season. He had already paid to enter. If he hadn’t shown up, he was out the entry fee.”

“How much is that?”

“Two-thousand dollars,” Shep says.

I feel my eyes bug out. “And how much can you win?”

“It’s winner take all. Charlie won $12,000 Saturday.”

I stare at Shep. That’s three month pay for me. “Shit.” I finally take a breath.

“Yeah. In four weeks we have a chance for Charlie to make some serious cash. $5,000 entry fee, twenty riders. These are the best outlaw street racers in the country. They are all coming here. All to put their reputation on the line against Charlie.”

“One-hundred thousand dollars,” I gasp in shock.

“That’s right. And though we don’t know for sure, I have heard rumors that there may be talent scouts there from some of the professional racing teams. This is the first time this many guys that are this good have been together in one place.” Shep looks at me, his eyes serious. “Charlie can win this. He’s that good. Please, Claire, don’t arse this up for him.”

I stare into Shep’s eyes. “Take me on this loop. Now,” I say firmly. “I want to see for myself.”

Shep grins. “Hey you, mob!” Shep calls. “Claire and I are going off on our own.”

***

Shep and I mount up and turn back the way we came before peeling off down a rutted and frost heaved road. We follow that for a time. Then, we arrive at another smooth and well maintained road. We wander about, twisting and turning, until we arrive at yet another cross road. Shep rolls the bike to a smooth stop. “You have a watch with a second hand?” he asks over his shoulder.

“What?”