To Betray A Brother (6 page)

Bryce eased away from the curb. He watched Penny as she wove her bike through the traffic, every movement smooth and precise, elegant as she shifted her weight to guide the machine. He could not help notice the way her jeans clung to her body, accentuating her shape. She was undeniably attractive and talk about sexy! Wow! Every time she moved, he struggled to refocus on the task at hand.

They arrived at the circuit, and Bryce unlocked the entry gate.

"I forgot. You work here, don't you?" Penny said, her head cocked to one side.

"Yeah, a few hours a week. The money helps pay the bills though not too much else,” he said as he remounted his bike.

They parked up on the side of the track. Bryce removed his helmet and pulled a bottle of water from his satchel and offered it to Penny.

She shook her head. "No, thanks.”

He pulled a stop watch from his pocket. "Three laps each. We compare times and then look at how to tighten your lines. You ready?”"

"We’ll try it your way, but don’t you think I will have an unfair advantage?" She cast her eyes from his Norton to her Aprilia as she spoke.

He grinned. "Ha. Easy. Three laps each on each bike, if you’re game? "

Penny grabbed her helmet and headed for the Norton. She’d forgotten how infuriatingly clever he could be.
I’ll show him.

She slipped her helmet on a sat for a few moments. “You know I’ve heard and read a great many things about Commandos and Nortons in general, not all of it flattering. Here goes nothing." She punched the starter button, accelerated off, and settled into the bike doing a warm up lap before getting down to business.

Bryce watched Penny slid from side to side on the saddle. She crossed the start/finish line, and he pushed the button on the stop watch. Sitting in the stands he could watch her ride, getting the best view of her form and the lines she took. Penny accelerated hard, braking as she picked her lines through the track. He made a mental note. She crossed the line. Three minutes, six seconds. He wrote the time into the notebook.

She pulled up after the last lap and wandered over to where he sat, her hair damp and stuck to her face.

"Well?" she asked, eagerness threading her voice.

He handed her the sheet.

Penny read his scribbled notes. "Three minutes, six seconds, three minutes four, and three minutes three. They’re fairly respectable times, considering your big old beast is not really a racing bike and handles like a barge.”

Without a word Bryce handed her the watch and headed toward his bike.

The Commando flashed over the line with Bryce barely tucking himself down to reduce wind drag. He selected lines different to those she had chosen.

She held the watch up as he crossed the line, the blood drained from her face leaving her pale. His times must have been better than hers. She shook her head in disbelief as he crossed the line again. He grinned into the wind.
Game on!

By the time Bryce pulled up Penny sat ready on her bike. She shoved the watch and notebook at him. "Here!" she shouted as she accelerated off.

He kicked his stand out and watched. She rode hard, the bike dove as she milked every ounce of skill to get the best time possible. She was fast, and Bryce couldn’t help admire her determination. He looked at his times. Two minutes fifty-eight seconds on his first lap with no warm up. Two fifty-seven on the second. No wonder she was riding like the wind. Nothing like a bit of healthy competition.

Penny completed her laps and pulled up, lifted her visor, and looked across at him, a fire burnt deep in her eyes. He passed her the notebook. She closed the cover without looking at his notations. "You think I can do better, don't you?"

He nodded in response but didn't say anything, instead handing her a bottle of water. He watched as she drank deeply, some spilling from the bottle and running down the long column of her neck. Right now, Penny was the sexiest woman on the planet. His loins stirred in agreement as his eyes followed the rivulet as it disappeared behind the collar of her jacket. "Let's both go out onto the track."

"In a race you mean?" Penny wiped the water from her lips.

"No. I'll follow you. Get a feel for how you think. We'll do a couple of laps and then swap. You follow me, pay attention to how I pick my lines though the track. Then we'll sit down and talk about what we do differently.”

They both put their helmets on.

Bryce pulled up beside her. "Ride fast enough for your braking and cornering to be to be the same as when you are racing, just not at full speed."

She nodded, flicked down the visor and rode off. Bryce slipped in behind her, watching as she applied brake and throttle, observing how she selected her path through the track. Every now and then he found his eyes slipping to Penny's butt. Its shape accentuated in the tight jeans as her muscles flexed and slid from side to side across the seat.

* * * *

As Penny rode she was conscious of Bryce behind her, watching her every move, assessing how she attacked each segment of the track. She wondered how personal his critique would get. Out of the corner of her eye, the black and gold beast rumbled past, and Bryce signalled for her to follow. She traced his path, marvelling at how effortlessly he rode. He might just be the smoothest rider she had ever seen. Her eyes were continually drawn back to his thighs, watching his muscles ripple through his denim jeans as he moved across the saddle. Visions of him training and his sweat covered body crept back into her mind as she followed him.

Penny’s confidence on the bike grew as she spent more time with Bryce. They were well into their third training session when Penny glanced into her right mirror as she positioned herself to drop into the bend. Nothing – empty. As if out of nowhere the black Norton blasted past her on the outside and dove deep across her path. "Arrgh!"
How in the hell?

In the next breath, Bryce appeared beside her, his handle bars almost touching hers as he tried to push her out of the curve and into the sand. Sweat stung her brow as she struggled with the two bikes so close together. Delaying as long as possible, Penny pushed the rear brake pedal. The bike slowed and pulled deeper into the corner, sliding in behind Bryce. "I've got you now," she muttered as she lined up to harass him through the next set of chicanes.

They had been riding hard. She sat up as they rode down the straight and massaged the muscles in her right shoulder. The hot air parched her throat dry and sweat drenched the inside of her helmet. Penny signalled to pull over. "I've had enough for the day," she said as Bryce stopped beside her.

His eyes twinkled as he lifted his visor. The full racing leathers he wore instead of the usual denim suited him, making him even hotter, sexy even. Who was she kidding? He’d returned a six foot tower of hardened muscle with cat like grace and features. All traces of the boy who she’d fallen for had long disappeared. Damn right he’s sexy.

"Let's head off. We can grab a beer and chat about what happens next." He nodded and waved for her to take the lead.

"You're on. Last one to Max's buys the first round!" she shouted, dropped her visor and roared off.

Penny slid onto one of the chairs sitting on the deck, leaned back and shrugged out of her jacket. Bryce parked beside her. She had taken full advantage of Bryce’s need to lock the gates behind them and arrived at Max’s first.

Bryce placed Penny's beer on the table and sat opposite her. "Here you go."

"You know, you have never told me where you learned to ride the way you do."

Bryce sat back, his black one piece racing leathers unzipped to the waist. The word
Army
in camouflage was inscribed across the front and back of them. "I got lucky. I've just spent a lot of time riding."

"Please! Your leathers have Army stitched across them, and you say you got lucky?"

He smiled. "Well, it’s true. When we weren't overseas, I spent some time as the mechanic for the Team Army Nitro Harley and used to do a bit of the test riding. Our pilot got sent overseas so I filled in for a while. There’s not too much else."

"What?” Penny sat bolt upright. “You rode a nitro Harley? What is that like?"

Bryce looked directly at Penny with his piercing brown eyes. "You have sixteen hundred horse power between your legs, and you unleash a volcano when the lights flash down the tree."

The intensity of his gaze burned where his eyes touched her skin. Her heart thudded in her ears and butterflies danced in her stomach. He raised his glass, drained it, and stood. "Another?" Without waiting for an answer he walked toward the bar, his movement fluid—a dancer not a mechanic.

She didn't need to wonder what treasures lay hidden beneath his leather covering. She had seen him almost stripped naked as he trained, tattooed, lean, muscular, battle scarred. In her mind she imaged what his muscles would feel like to her touch. In return, fire started to burn where there had been none for so very long.

Bryce returned. "We've still a couple of weeks before next race. I have to duck away for a few days sometime in there. I’ll let you know exactly when once I know for sure." The sound of his voice shook her from her reverie. She focused as he continued. "A mate of mine is having a birthday party next Friday night. I’d like you to come with me."

"Are you asking me out on a date, Bryce Huntington?" She smiled to hide the tightening of her stomach as the fire in her belly increased to become an inferno.

His eyes flashed steel grey. "I'm asking you if you want to come to a party with me. We have spent a lot of time together lately, and every second has been about motorcycles. I thought something different might be nice."

"Sounds like fun. I'm in." She heard the words as they came out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Hang on before you say yes. We’ll need to drive down to Brisbane and crash there overnight. I can arrange for the boys to sort out a room for each of us not too far away from the clubhouse.” He looked directly at her. “What do you say? Are you still in?”

Right now spending more time with Bryce was downright dangerous. She needed all of her self-control not to run her hands over those muscles every time she saw him. He had burnt her before, and there was no way she would forget any time soon. "Whose birthday is it?"

Bryce paused and his eyes glazed for just a second, his voice softened. "Stitch. The guy's name’s Stitch. We've known each other for years."

Penny said nothing, giving Bryce the silence he seemed to need. After a few moments, she said, "I can’t remember when I last went to a good party. You know what? I’m in. It might be just what we both need."

Bryce looked at her, his eyes still distant and guarded, as if mentioning Stitch's name rekindled memories he wanted to hide. Then he smiled, and the moment passed. Had she imagined it?

"I think you'll have a good time." A broad smile lit up his face. "There’ll be a band, a roast pig on a spit, and people just enjoying life."

She downed her drink with several nervous gulps. The thought of being overnight somewhere with Bryce set her heart racing at breakneck speed. "It's been a long day, and I'm beat. I might head home. I'm expecting a busy day tomorrow. The nice weather is settling in, and lots of ladies are buying new clothes for this season."

"Good idea. I'll see you home.” He stood, zipped up his leathers, and offered to help her stand. As her hand disappeared into his a bolt of electricity shot through her arm and to her heart, causing her to shudder.

"Are you okay?" Bryce's voice tinged with concern.

She shook her head. "Yes. Fine. You don’t need to follow me home. Thanks for the offer anyway."
Nothing!
She burned from the inside out.

Penny sat for a moment on her bike using the time to bring herself back under control as she secured her helmet and slid on her gloves.

Bryce lifted his visor. "I'll call during the week to let you know what time I'll pick you up.”

She nodded. "Okay." Not trusting herself to say anything more, she remained on her bike long after the sound of Bryce's Norton had disappeared.
God no. Not Bryce. Of all people please, not him.

"Well, what do you think? The pale blue or the purple?" Tim Tam looked at her giving the impression the question was getting serious consideration. Then, deciding he didn’t care, he flicked his tail and jumped off the bed. "I'll trade you in for a dog," she called out after him.

Meeoowwww
echoed back down the hallway.

She chose a purple long sleeved T-shirt from the new season’s collection. The shirt hugged her waist, while snug fitting blue jeans ran down into knee high black boots. Deep plum lipstick finished the look.

As she checked her watch, the doorbell rang.
Right on time
. Penny grabbed her purse and overnight bag. She was still unsure about the overnight bit, learning to trust Bryce, or perhaps re-trust Bryce as a man of his word. He had said the drive would take a good hour to get to where they needed to go. And it looked like being a late one.

She opened the door to Bryce leaning on the veranda post. His face lit up. "Hey! You look magnificent." He took her bag.

"Thank you." Penny smiled in return. She looked out into the drive and stopped. "Wow!" His car was not what she expected. The low sexy Chevy Impala sat looking mean in her drive. "Is this your work?" She ran a finger along the cherry red ghost flames as they licked across the bonnet and down the side of the pearl black paint.

"Ma’am." Bryce held the door open and gestured for her to enter the car. The red leather bench seat melted around her as she slid into the car. He closed her door behind her, his movements cat-like as he moved in front of the car, opened the driver's door, and slipped in beside her.

The V8 engine shouted confidence, strength, and raw power as it rumbled to life and sent a shiver down her spine. Bryce looked across, his brown eyes dancing mischievously in the dash light. He held out his hand palm upwards. "Ready?" A big grin split his face.

His mood infectious, she reached out and smacked his hand. "Let's party."

He stomped on the throttle, and they roared up the road. The leather interior wrapped an old school dash, modernised with a full array of electronics. Bryce looked sharp in his faded jeans and plain blue T-shirt, the tattoos on his arms dancing as he drove. The butterflies in her stomach returned.

He touched the screen embedded in the dash—a modern touch to the old school car—not looking at all out of place. "If you are of a mind, scroll through and find something you like. There are god knows how many songs of all types loaded in there.” He glanced across at her as he spoke, for the first time she noticed how the creases at the corners of his eyes made him ruggedly good looking. Quickly she diverted her attention to the music before she could get herself into trouble. She flicked through the endless list of tunes finally settling on the Hilltop Hoods as they cruised out onto the highway.

Her phone buzzed in her handbag. She reached in and grabbed it. A message from Justin,
You need to stay away from the coward Huntington, or you’ll pay, so help me.

She deleted the message and with trembling hands jammed the phone into her bag.

“You okay?”

“Sorry? Yes. It was nothing.”

* * * *

Penny had never been into a biker club house before. She looked around with fascination as they wound through the throngs of people, comforted by the touch of Bryce's hand on her back. He carried a large flat box under his arm. At least one hundred people packed into the clubhouse while still more spilt outside through the open roller door. A rock band blasted away on the stage draped with a big banner, "Happy Birthday Stitch". The image of a dog sleeping curled at the base of a military burial cross, the Club logo, painted in dark silhouette loomed ten feet tall on the wall behind.

Out of the crowd rolled a wheel chair bound man missing both legs below his knees.

"Hey, brother, happy birthday." Bryce bent and gave the man a huge hug. "Mate, this is Penny." He smiled by way introduction. "Penny. Stitch."

"Pleased to meet you." She bent and gave Stitch a peck on the cheek. "Happy birthday. Looks like a great turnout."

His craggy face split with a wide grin. “So this is the famous Penny I've heard so much about.” He patted his lap. “Come and tell Uncle Stitch how you met this ugly S.O.B.” He laughed as he spoke. Bryce cuffed him playfully on the side of the head.

The crowd jostled around them, and the temperature began to climb as people warmed up dancing.

She opened her mouth to speak when Bryce interrupted. "Get your useless carcass over to the stage. I need your chair."

They negotiated the crowd as they made their way toward the stage. Penny was introduced to a number of people along the way, struggling to catch names over the ever increasing volume of the party.

Stitch rolled off, yelling at people to move out of the way. Bryce stopped and chatted with a couple of people who grabbed him as they passed. Finally they reached the stage. Bryce picked Stitch out of the chair as if he weighed no more than a feather and deposited him on the front of the stage. The band continued to play as Bryce upended the wheelchair next to Stitch.

Using the multi-tool which lived on his belt, Bryce removed the spoked bicycle wheels from the chair and turned to Stitch. "You need something so much cooler, man." He opened the large box he had been carrying to reveal a set of custom made polished billet alloy wheels for the chair. Three sets of flames sat where spokes should have been. He fitted them expertly as the crowd stopped dancing to watch.

She heard comments. "Freak in' mad, cool," even, "If I needed a chair, I'd want those wheels."

"Fuckin' insane," yelled Stitch with a grin so big Penny thought his face would split.

Bryce held out the chair, "Here you go, man. Happy birthday."

Penny caught a glimpse of moisture in his eyes. Behind her the crowd spontaneously cheered and clapped, drowning out the band.

"Screw that. Come here!" Stitch held his arms wide, and Bryce received a back thumping embrace for his efforts. Penny winced, thinking about being on the receiving end of one of those pummelling hugs. The crowd spontaneously burst into Happy Birthday. Penny joined in, swept up in the enthusiasm and emotion of the moment. The two men broke apart. Penny spotted tears in the eyes of both.

Stitch yelled, "Pedro, whiskey for everybody."

The crowd cheered again. In no time, the shot glasses covered the bar. They were filled as quickly as they could be laid out. Several girls, midriffs exposed between their tight shorts and bikini tops, wandered through the crowd with trays of drinks, offering them to anybody and everybody. Bryce collared a tray and thrust a glass into Penny’s hand. He held his glass high above his head, everybody followed suit.

“One. Two. Three. Happy Birthday,” Bryce led the chant. As one, a hundred voices yelled happy birthday, and heads tipped back as glasses emptied in one swallow. Penny cringed as the volume of the crowd hurt her ears. Not wanting to be left out she copied everybody else and emptied her glass in one mouthful. Her throat caught fire as the liquid burnt a path to her stomach. She coughed. Her chest spasmed, and she doubled over, no longer able to breathe.

Bryce caught and held her as she coughed uncontrollably several more times. A strong hand rubbed her back. When she caught her breath and tried to focus, Bryce, Stitch, everybody blurred. Bryce touched her face with the back of his fingers. Tears ran down her cheeks. Bryce caught her tears on the back of his hand. Comforted, she stood and steadied herself against him.

As her eyes dried, Penny began to see clearly again. He guided her to one of several booths which lined the walls. His brown eyes danced as he whispered in her ear, “Sit here,” and handed her some water, “Drink this. It’ll help. I’ll duck over and grab some food. I’ll be back in a sec. You stay here.”

Before Penny could say anything, Bryce disappeared into the crowd.

Stitch rolled up with a woman in tow. “Shove over, Penny. Let Burnie slip in beside you. Penny, this is my wife, Burnie.”

Penny swallowed a mouthful of water and slid across the seat. The woman sat beside her. She appeared to be in her late thirties, red hair, pale skin, and broad smile. She wore yellow blouse and faded blue jeans. The obligatory black boots finished off her look.

Stitch signalled for some more drinks as Bryce showed up, his arms filled with a couple of trays of roasted vegetables, meat, gravy, and some plastic plates and knives and forks. He sat across from the girls as he deposited the food.

The aroma rose from the plate and hit Penny's nose. Her stomach grumbled in approval as Bryce handed her a laden plate. Several times men wearing
Dogs
vests came over and whispered into Bryce’s ear. With all of the noise going on, she couldn’t hear what the men were saying, but annoyance flashed across his face as the last man spoke. Bryce leant back and spoke directly into man’s ear.

“Will you all excuse me? Something has cropped up I need to attend to.” Bryce stood as he spoke, his eyes flashed.

Stitch looked up, gravy running over his chin which he wiped away with the back of his hand. “You need me?”

Bryce shook his head. “Nah. You stay here. Have fun and keep the girls company.” He told Penny, “I shouldn’t be long.”

Penny turned to Stitch. "You and Bryce are close, aren't you?"

Stitch downed the contents of his glass. His eyes held hers as if assessing her before he answered. "I owe him my life. There is nothing I wouldn't do for him." He paused a moment and took a mouthful from one of the impressive display of birthday drinks lined up before him by well-wishers. "Fact is, there are about eight brothers in this room tonight who, without Bryce would not be here now."

His eyes misted as he continued. "He speaks about you a lot. I can see why. Bryce is a lot of things, but one thing that cannot be questioned is his loyalty if he counts you a friend, or his generosity. A more generous soul you will never meet." He picked up his drink, swallowed the contents, and rolled the empty glass around in his hands. "If you’re going to let him down," his dark eyes bore into her, "do it soon. I've seen how he looks at you..." The rest of his words disappeared into a cacophony of a roaring engine as a motorcycle burst through a set of side doors up the ramp and onto the stage.

"Burnout!" hollered Stitch. His attention diverted as the noise from the exhaust destroyed any chance at further conversation. Smoke started to billow from the spinning tire. Penny had never seen such a thing before. Bryce appeared out of the crowd. Fascinated by the respect his presence commanded, he spoke to the rider who nodded, idled the bike, and took it outside.

Bryce sat down beside Penny. "Another minute of that,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder to where the motor bike had been, “and none of us would be able to breathe in here."

In the background Penny heard the exhaust roar again, and the crowd cheered their support as the burnout restarted.

"Enjoying yourself? I know there's a lot going on." Bryce twisted the lid off a bottle of water and handed it across the table to her.

"Yes, I am. I've met some interesting people, and it’s been a while since I've been to a good party. Mind you, I’m not sure I have ever been to a party where girls wearing almost nothing wander around selling drinks and people do burnouts on stage." She smiled. “I’ve had a pile of fun. Thank you."

A man wearing a
Dogs of Dereliction
patch came up again and whispered into Bryce's ear. Bryce's eyes hardened, said something terse in reply, and the man melted back into the crowd.

Bryce turned back to her. "I was about to say, if you had enough let me know. Things are not too far of getting raucous if you know what I mean." He nodded toward the stage where one of the scantily clad women carrying drinks around earlier had started to put on a show dancing around the pole. Stitch rolled his wheel chair onto the stage egging them on as loudly as possible.

"I see what you mean." She nodded. "You might be right." Part of her wanted to stay and see what getting raucous meant. She needed to process her conversation with Stitch and some of the other things she had noted tonight. Bryce held out his hand, and she took it as she stood. He didn't move to release his warm, strong grip. She nestled closer, her free hand grasping his bicep as they commenced the epic journey out of the clubhouse, back to the car. Bryce stopped and spoke with almost everyone as they made their way to the door. Those who he didn’t stop to chat with grabbed him.

The trip to the door took about twenty minutes before they managed to get out to where the car was parked. Bryce closed the passenger's door behind Penny, forcing her to relinquish his hand, leaving hers cold and empty. He slid in beside her and eased the car out into the night.

The warm night air caressed her skin and blew her hair back as they drove with the windows down. Bryce had turned the music off. The rumble of the V8 and the wind on her face as she stared into the darkness combined, made her drowsy, and she slipped into a daydream.

The headlights reflected back off the hotel wall, rousing Penny from her daydream as Bryce parked and turned the car off. She looked at him, a little unsure, as he opened her door, holding out his hand.
What the?
Sleeping with Bryce wasn't what she signed up for tonight when she had agreed to come to the party with him. Her chest constricted, anxiety threatened to overwhelm here as she looked for way out, an excuse to head back to the party or home.