Trust in Me: A Biker Erotic Romance (Dark Riders MC)

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

Trust in Me copyright @ 2014 by A. L. Summers. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

TRUST IN ME

CHAPTER ONE

The
Dark Riders
or DRs, as we call ourselves, is a club of like-minded individuals that enjoy riding motorcycles. Specifically, hogs. We each have our day job. I work the parts counter at a Harley-Davidson dealership, for example. We also have our…ahem…other jobs. The DRs is a very exclusive club. You are only allowed in if you are recruited. We only recruit when we need a very specific set of skills. You see, the
Dark Riders
, we’re in what you might call the export business.

We work together to obtain Harleys for customers who might otherwise find them unattainable. Customers in other countries. Other European countries, to be exact. My brother Danny is Vice President of Business Development at one of the local banks. In other words, he makes loans. He makes sure we have sufficient cash to pay for the bikes we buy.

Charlie works a help desk for a large IT firm. He functions as our forger. His computer skills allow him to make modified documents, both electronic and paper, that are indistinguishable from the originals. He makes sure the paperwork looks nice and legal. This insures the feds are kept in the dark about our gray marketing.

Sean drives a truck. He handles transportation and is responsible for getting the bikes in a container and on the water. Rick is an air freight pilot on a regular run to London. He is perfect for handling sales and is the contact for our customers.

Then there is Lew, our president. Lew is retired after selling his string of restaurants. He founded the
Dark Riders
years ago. He runs our little export business for something to do. Plus, it brings in a little “walking around money,” as he calls it. He handles the money and makes sure each of us gets a slice of the pie.

And me?  My job is to locate and obtain the bikes the customers want. I’m also the breaker. I break some of the bikes we buy down and sell them as spare parts.

We all have our jobs and we’re all an important cog that makes the well-oiled machine run. The problem is that not everyone sees it that way. Charlie gets no respect for what he does and neither do I. I know more about bikes than anyone else in the DRs, but do they respect me? That would be a big fat
fuck no
. I’m just Danny’s little sister. I would like to see one of these ass-clowns buy this many new bikes in a year and not have someone get suspicious. Or take one apart. Hell, Rick can’t even change his own oil. I know because he brings his bike to
me
to do it for him.

So even though Charlie and I are the ones
getting
the damn bikes for everyone else to do their part, they give me a pat on the head and a “ain’t she cute” bullshit attitude. I finally had enough of it. I was tired of living in the shadow of Danny. He didn’t do
shit
unless we ran into a cash flow problem. Three weeks ago, after throwing a wrench at Sean for his smart ass attitude, I stormed out vowing to never return.

While I sat drinking my beer at one of our regular watering holes, thinking evil thoughts, Darren Kelley strolls in. He sat down beside me at the bar. Darren used to be a
Dark Rider
, until he and Danny got into it. Darren was pissed that he was passed over for the vice president position in favor of Danny. Rather than suck it up and act like a man, he started spreading rumors. When they got back to Danny, Darren found himself tossed out on his ass. That was two years ago. Danny and Darren have
hated
each other since.

Since then Darren, formed his own club, the
Demon Knives
. He appointed himself president. It didn’t go without notice that his club’s initials just happened to match his own. That’s Darren. He’s an insufferable, know-it-all, blowhard; but, damn, he’s good looking. 

Plied with beer and attitude, one thing led to another and I ended up going home with him. In hindsight, we both wanted the same thing, to stick it to the DRs. And in Darren’s case, by extension, Danny. The first couple of weeks were pretty fucking good. That is to say the fucking was pretty good. Darren might be an asshole, but he knows how to please a woman. After the second week, Sean, Danny, and Lew called and apologized. They asked me to come back. I was mostly over being pissed off anyway, especially since I worked off my frustration on Darren’s cock. That’s when I started to try and ease my way out of the relationship. That’s also when Darren started to get a little clingy.

Last week, I finally had enough of Darren’s shit, too. I told him I was out of there. At first he pleaded, then he threatened. Then, he slapped the shit out of me. There must be a course at asshole school that teaches a man how to hit a woman because that slap hurt like shit. I hit him with the door and ran like hell. When I got back to the club, I claimed a kid chasing a Frisbee in a park ran me over. I had to explain away the bruise. I don’t know if they bought it, but nobody said anything.

I would have considered it a lesson learned and let it go at that, except Darren is creeping me out. It seems every time I turn around, he’s there. He’s always where I am, watching. When I finally confronted him about it, he didn’t deny following me. He said that he couldn’t live without me. That was scary. What is even scarier is that he said that I would realize that I couldn’t live without him, too. I told him to wait right where he was and I would come get him when I realized he’s right.

This morning I was going to ride my bike into work, since it is going to be such a nice day. When my garage door went up, the first thing I saw was Darren propped on his motorcycle at my curb. I decided to take the car. I have no idea how long he had been there, hanging around outside my house. It unnerves me to think he might be standing outside my house at night; so, I drove straight to Charlie’s after work.

CHAPTER TWO

I stand before Charlie’s door chewing my lip. I’m still not certain that I want to go through with this. Normally, I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much, but this shit is getting out of hand. I have managed to explain away the bruise, but I am seeing Darren in way too many places for it to be just a coincidence. I take a deep breath to suck up my courage and rap on the door.

After a pause the door swings open. “Aubrey? What are you doing here?” Charlie asks in surprise.

“May I come in?”

“Sure,” Charlie says, stepping back and holding the door for me. “Uhh, would you like to sit down?” Charlie asks when I step inside the door and stop. I’m not sure what to do next.

“Thanks,” I say, as I move to a chair and pick up a pile of mail addressed to
current resident
,
occupant
and
Charles Hill
. I hand the pile to Charlie. The top envelope announces that he
may have already won!
Charlie’s apartment is small, made smaller still by the gutted computers piled around everywhere. It’s also a dump. Mountain Dew bottles and empty fast food containers are piled on every flat surface, save one place - his computer desk.

Charlie sits at his desk chair and swivels to face me, but says nothing. Apparently, he’s waiting for me to speak. “Well? What can I do for you?” he finally asks.

“I have a problem,” I say. Why is it so hard to admit I’m in over my head? I talk to Charlie at least twice a week. Unlike everyone else, I like him.

“I gathered or you wouldn’t be here. Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

“I’ve fucked up. You’ve heard me pissing and moaning about how all the
Dark Riders
don’t respect me?”

“Yeah, well, welcome to my world,” Charlie says.

“Well,” I say, pausing to gather the courage to continue, “I’ve had an affair with Darren Kelly.” I say in a rush.

“Darren Kelly?
The
Darren Kelly? The Darren Kelly whose nuts Danny threatened cut off? That Darren Kelly?” Charlie pauses, then he begins to snicker. “Danny is going to positively shit kittens when he find out about this!”

“Don’t you dare tell him!”

“Aubrey, he’s your brother. He’s going to find out sooner or later,” Charlie chortles, spinning around once his chair. “Oh God, I want to be there when he does!”

“Charlie! You can’t tell him!” I beg. I knew this was a bad idea.

“I won’t tell him,” Charlie says grinning like an idiot.  “So why are you here? Are you going to have an affair with me now? Just in case you fucking Darren Kelly isn’t enough to give Danny an aneurism?!”

I jump to my feet, thoroughly pissed off. “Fuck you, Charlie!” I snarl. “I thought you were the one guy I could trust to help me! You’re as bad as all the other assholes in the DRs!”

“Aubrey, wait! Just wait a minute!” Charlie says, still grinning. “I’m sorry. It’s just, Jesus. Aubrey, what were you thinking? You’re Danny Carmichael’s little sister.
Vice President
Danny Carmichael,” Charlie says, making little tick marks when he says vice president.

I storm to the door, but Charlie is quicker. He puts his hand against it to hold it shut. “Let go of the door,
Charles,”
I say, my voice dripping with contempt on his name.

I see Charlie’s face harden. He hates being called Charles and I know it. He jerks his hand away, as if the door is hot. Then, he holds it up to show his compliance. “Fine,” he says taking a step back. “Guess you didn’t need my help after all.”

I don’t open the door because I really do need help. I don’t know who else to turn to. “You can be such a jerkwad,” I say releasing the door handle.

“You’re not exactly little miss sunshine sometimes either, you know,” Charlie says. Then, he smiles slightly. “I’m sorry, Aubrey. Come sit down. Can I get you something? I have Mountain Dews in the ‘fridge.”

“How about a beer?”

Charlie smiles. “No beer. Sorry. To me that shit tastes just like what it looks like.”

“Fine. Give me a Dew.”

Charlie walks to the refrigerator and pulls out two Dews. “Here you go,” he says, before tossing it underhand to me.

“This is going to spray everywhere!”

“Dews don’t spew,” Charlie says giving his bottle a good shake, then opening it slowly.

I give the top a slow twist and though the bottle gasses off like grandpa after eating a bean burrito, it doesn’t bubble over. “Thanks,” I say before taking a swig. Yuck! How does he drink these things?

“Aubrey, I’m sorry I laughed. I’m just shocked, I guess, that you would do something like that. Why did you do it, anyway?” Charlie asks, then grins again. “Not that I mind watching your brother squirm a little. How did you get mixed up with Darren and what can I do to help?”

I pause, not knowing where to start, and then I give Charlie the whole story. If he’s going to help me, he needs to know what he is getting into.