Patience: Biker Romance (The Davis Chapter Book 1) (2 page)

“Damn, baby. How hung over are you? Not
a
watering hole.
The
Watering Hole. That’s the name of the place. Don’t you remember?”

No. No I did not. My memory wasn’t coming back, so I had to go all in. “I don’t remember
anything
.”

He laughed again. God, I was getting tired of his fucking laughter. I was no one, I was nothing, I was empty, and he was laughing about the good time we supposedly had last night.

My hands gripped at the sheet tighter, and I turned to face him, “I don’t know my name. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know how in the absolute hell we end up naked in the same bed together. Apparently this is my bed, I don’t even know. My complete memory is gone, do you get that?”

I guess being screamed at was enough to get through to him. The laughter and a cocky smile fell away. He pulled himself to a sitting position, “Wait, are you serious? It’s not just last night you don’t remember?”

As much as I hated to do it, I shook my head back and forth. His eyes went wide. It was as if he woke up to the reality right then and there. His thick arms clasped together over his big cock. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. God damn, this probably feels really rapey, don’t it?”

The man scrambled around on his side of the mattress and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs. While he was distracted, I took that opportunity to turn and pulled my jeans up my legs, as well. As I did, I saw bruising toward the back of my left thigh. When I brought my hand to it, I felt the pain and tenderness all the way up my ass and my lower back.
Jesus, did I get my ass kicked?

Despite the fear and confusion, I felt a little better once I was dressed. I would have felt more comfortable with the bra, since the cold room was making my nipples pretty damn visible through the shirt, but it was better than waking up naked. I looked out the window, but it didn’t give me any clues. I saw foothills in the distance. Everything between the window and those hills with brown. The air conditioner was grinding out at full blast, so I made a guess that we were somewhere hot. One question kept coming back to me. I woke up naked next to a stranger, and I was freaked out, but why wasn’t I more freaked out? Why wasn’t I scrambling for a phone, screaming, fighting for my life, or just trying to escape?

The man stood, pulling a pair of ratty jeans of his legs as he did. He coughed and cleared his throat, then ran a hand through his shaggy dark curls. He gave me a smile, but this one was apologetic. It was acceptable. “Well, let me introduce myself, I guess. The name’s Denny, but everyone calls me Thunder.”

“Who in the hell would call you Thunder?”

He gave me a strange look, but then must’ve remembered that I was starting from scratch. “Everyone in the biker club. I’m part of the Rising Sons Motorcycle Club.” The name didn’t mean anything to me, and I’m sure that look was painted on my face. “It’s… It’s kind of a big deal motorcycle club. How much do you remember?” Denny—or Thunder, I guess— grabbed a black T-shirt from the floor. It was a shame to see that broad, inked chest covered up.
Get your mind on the problem at hand, dammit.
God, why was he so distracting?

I shook my head, half answering his question and half pulling myself from the gutter, “All of this is new information to me. Can you do me a favor and tell me my name?” Again, I didn’t know why I wasn’t more scared.
That
was scarier than anything else.

“Well, around the club you call yourself Patience.”

I put my hands up, “Stop. Just stop. I
call
myself Patience? You’re telling me you don’t know my real name?” The anger and fear was beginning to get to me. My voice was getting higher and louder, “What in the fuck is going on? What happened last night?”

“Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll tell you everything I know. The first thing I know is that you got a coffee pot in the kitchen. You sit down; I’ll make us some brew.”

Strangely enough, the coffee helped calm me down. Nothing in the kitchen sparked my memory, but at least Thunder was doing his best to help me. He turned off the stove, the red ring’s glow beginning to fade. Dropping into the chair opposite me, he let out a heavy sigh and took a whiff of the coffee.

“I guess I’ll start back as early as I can. I joined the Rising Sons three months ago. The club’s only been up in Davis for about six months. They’ve been around in Bakersfield for two decades, though. So, anyway. The president’s son comes up here and sets up shop. Buys some burned out wreck and turns it into the Watering Hole. Something big goes down in Las Vegas, a bunch of new people join, yada yada yada. You started hangin’ around the club maybe a month ago, or so. Moved in real nice and easy. I don’t know you all that well, so I only know what other people say. Everybody calls you Patience. I asked somebody last week why.

“He told me you were called Patience because you were systematically fucking every single Rising Son in the Davis chapter.”

 
It was just getting worse and worse. Every time Thunder spoke, my life got worse. Maybe it would’ve been better not to know. I woke up with a blank slate. I could have been anyone I wanted to. Instead, I had to ask questions. The answers? Oh, nothing. I was just some biker bar slut trying to check off every bearded Harley jockey I could find.

“Look, I can tell that you’re a little bit shocked. Totally understandable. Let me get to the fight.”

Great. How can things get worse?
“Yeah, I’d like to know why I’m black and blue all over.”

“Because you’re a sad panther.” Thunder stared at me, a ridiculous grin on his face.

I gave him an equally ridiculous look, “Huh?”

“Black and blue. Like a sad panther? Nevermind, just trying to bring a bit of levity to the whole situation.” I went from ridiculous to angry. Thunder got the hint. “No levity. I understand. So, the fight?”

“Yes, the fight.” I was beyond impatient. Thunder didn’t know my real name, and any information he had given only dug daggers into my heart.

“So you were gaming after the president of our chapter, Trask Rivers. He’s one of like three Rising Sons you hadn’t fu-“ Thunder stopped mid word. Up to that moment, he had been everything I expected out of a biker. He was rude, arrogant, and selfish. “You hadn’t become acquainted with personally.” He chose his words carefully, and it changed my opinion slightly.

He understood that I was in a bad way, and I needed a bit of gentle care. I’m sure a man nicknamed Thunder wasn’t used to being gentle, but at least he was learning.

“Well, Trask’s got himself a pretty good thing going, and so he politely declined. You weren’t too happy about it, and you spun around to leave. Keep in mind, you were pretty hammered at this point. When you spun around, you knocked into another…one of the other ladies that frequents the Watering Hole. She was pretty pissed, and then the shit was on. Hair pulling, scratching, you name it.”

I could hear Thunder getting excited as he relived the fight.
Men. They do love a good cat fight.
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I was doing my best to hang onto his story.

“Mhm.”

He got the hint, again. Maybe he wasn’t as thick as I figured. “One of you, not sure which, twisted the other around, and you ended up falling backwards and slamming your dome on the corner of the bar. You didn’t go out cold, but you were beyond disoriented. That’s when I stepped in, literally. The other chick left in a huff, and we got some ice on the back of your head. After fifteen minutes or so, you seemed better, but you weren’t really talking. A few of us suggested taking you to the emergency room, but you shrugged us off. Closing time rolled around, and you were pretty insistent that I see you home.”

I knew he was choosing polite words then, too. God knows what I really did to get him to come home with me. As Thunder spoke, I took him in. I guessed he was about thirty, but it was hard to tell. He had bright and young eyes, but there were cracks and lines across the deep tan of his face. I could only imagine the hard years he’d lived. Even with him dressed, I couldn’t get the vision of his naked body out of my head. With what he was packing between his legs, it was easy to imagine how he got his nickname.

I dreaded the question, but it was in my head. Did we have sex? The words were on my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him. Part of me was too shy, and another part couldn’t handle hearing the answer.

“If I could remember what happened, I think I’d just feel better, but it’s all so nebulous.” Looking around, the nebulous feeling became something more depressing. “Look, Thunder, thank you for everything you’ve told me, but it’s just not enough. You don’t even know my real name.”

After searching through the three rooms in the small apartment, I actually couldn’t manage to find a single form of identification. All the mail was sent to “Current Resident,” and there was no phone lying around. I assumed that I lost it the night before. I was Jane Doe.

“Really wish I knew more.” Since waking up next to Thunder, I had to admit that I was warming up to him. He could have easily skipped out on me, leaving me to deal with my problems myself. Instead, he genuinely wanted to help. That was sweet of him.
Is it? Or are you clinging to him because he’s the only person you know, anymore?

“Fucking fuck!” My frustration got the better of me, and the coffee mug broke when I slammed it down onto the old, dirty table. There wasn’t much liquid left in it, but it still trailed to an edge and dripped to the linoleum floor.

Thunder didn’t react to my outburst. He looked at the coffee splashing onto the floor for a second, then he leaned back in the chair and grabbed for a hand towel dangling from the oven handle. He dropped it onto the coffee and worked it around with his foot.

I pushed the pieces of mug away from me on the table and gave a sigh. I felt beyond screwed.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do. Are you listening?” Thunder’s voice changed. When he asked if I was listening, something in his words grabbed hold of me by the scruff of my neck. I looked up to him and wondered if
that
was where his nickname came from.

After I gave him a nod, he went on. “First of all, we’re gonna get some real food. We’re gonna get out of this place and see if something jogs your memory.” He glanced at his phone, “It’s past noon. By the time we’re done eating, we’ll head to the Watering Hole and ask around. Someone there has to know who you are. Did you drive there last night?”

I was about to give a frustrated
I don’t know
, but he went on before I could.

“If you did, I’m sure your car will be waiting for you. Maybe a phone, maybe a purse that has some I.D. What d’ya say, Patience?” Those bright eyes. They had a way of easing me back down. I didn’t like my nickname. I hated what it represented, and so I was more than eager to learn my real name.

“You’ve been so kind to me, Thunder. I really don’t know how I can repay you.” I’m pretty sure the sex we had the night before should have covered any repayment, but that wasn’t
me
. That was some other woman who got wet for any man riding on two wheels. It wasn’t
me.

“Don’t sweat it. If I woke up with no memory, I don’t know of anybody who would help me. My life hasn’t exactly been filled with the most friendly people, so I guess I’m just doing my good deed for the year.” He shrugged off the complement, but I knew better.

I had no doubt that Thunder was just keeping up appearances. He couldn’t have anybody thinking that some badass biker was in the habit of helping ladies in distress. God forbid somebody think that he’s a nice guy.” Let me run a brush through my hair, and we can head out.”

The bathroom matched the rest of the apartment: pure shit. The medicine cabinet was bare except for one toothbrush and the remains of a tube of toothpaste. After a little bit of hunting, I did manage to find a hairbrush. It did very little to get rid of the sex hair, but the only other option would be to take a shower, and that thing looked like a total hazmat situation. The brush would have to do.

We stepped outside the door to my apartment and into the dry heat. It hit me that I didn’t have a key, but if somebody wanted to break in, good for them. They couldn’t possibly make the place worse, and there was nothing to steal. If I really had a chance to start over, I’d never come back to that apartment, again. I pulled the door closed and followed Thunder.