Finding Harley: Renegades MC Story

Chapter 1

"Hey Harley...can you take table four?"  Marie asked as she passed me in the kitchen.   Setting the glasses in the bin to be cleaned, I quickly washed my hands and headed back out into the bar area.  

I have worked at The Scene now for the past six months.   I was lucky at finding a job so quickly when I got into town and I honestly loved working for Mac.   On the outside he looked like a big, scary bad ass biker, but he was nothing but a soft marshmallow on the inside. Although he would kill anyone that said that to his face.  

Most of the girls at the strip club were terrified of him, but not me.   I found his gruff exterior endearing.  But I did have a warped sense of humor.  

The man had a huge protective streak when it came to me, acting more like my father then the pathetic excuse of the one I was born to.    I haven't really thought of him much since he was killed and I ran away.  So, no need to reminisce now.   That part of my life was over, the past, and that is where it needed to stay.  

Over the years I have had to move a lot, not by choice but to keep under the radar of both the law and the law breakers.  In my world, finding yourself having to deal with either of those never had a good outcome.   Fortunately, I was lucky and when I turned eighteen, I was able to breathe a little bit easier.   I was of legal age, so it made moving around much easier.  

Mac shot me a wink as I passed the bar and headed around the packed tables and past the stage.   The place looked to be getting crowded tonight, which was good for the girls, more tips was always a plus.   Table four was one of our larger ones in the back corner behind the stage, tucked away that it was mostly blocked by the elevation of the stage.   It was usually reserved for the Renegades, the local MC that ran the small town and I know that Marie didn't feel very comfortable around them, hell most people didn't feel comfortable around a bunch of rowdy, drunk criminals, but then again, I wasn't anyone.   Growing up around bikers myself, I didn't have a problem with them...as long as they left me alone that is.  

With Mac being a member, his bar became a common hang out for the brothers outside of the clubhouse.   They got cheap beer and tits shoved in their faces, what more can a guy ask for right?   Not like the clubhouse was probably lacking in either of those attributes, but I guess men like variety, and The Scene definitely offered that.   I still wasn't quite sure why Mac even hired me since I refused to take any of my clothes off, but I was a hell of a bartender and cocktail waitress when needed.  So, he bent the rules for me.  That didn't make me very popular at first with the other girls, but my work spoke for itself.   I busted my ass each shift and looked out for the other girls.  Hard to hate a girl for long that pulled her weight and had no intension of stealing your man.  A man was the last thing I needed in my life, like ever.   So, they came around quick.   

Most nights I was safe behind the bar, but two of the waitress's called in sick with the flu that was going around.  I was downing orange juice and vitamins like they were candy; this flu was no joke and I for one was going to do what I could to avoid puking my brains out for 4 days.   So, for tonight at least I had to dodge octopus hands and overzealous drunk bikers.    Pulling down on the leather vest that kept my girls in place, I skirted around the stage to find table four overflowing with sexy as fuck bikers.  

But I had my fill of bikers over the years, especially the earlier ones.   Now all women have that "bad" guy fantasy where they fuck your brains out and bikers definitely checked a lot of those boxes, but for me, all bikers were definitely on my no-no list.  Once bitten, twice shy and all that crap.  No matter how much they rev my engine, I needed to keep my raging hormones in check.  I couldn't risk being associated with anyone in that world.  It was too dangerous.