Biker roots

Chapter 8 - The lion's den

I have driven for six hours straight until I reached a small motel and checked in into my room. I send mom a quick text to let her know that I arrived safely. I hope it will ease their mind a bit, I saw how worried they were as I left. 

The room is small and dark. I open the curtains and place my suitcase next to the bed. I take out my laptop and search the address from the letter. It turns out to be a bar, not the nice and classy kind but the dark pub kind. It's still early in the afternoon so I decide to take a shower before my visit.

What do you wear when you walk in the lion's den? I decide something simple, but at the same time don't mess with me. I settle for a black skinny jeans, a light gray sweater and some boots. I look in the mirror, the nerves are clearly visible on my face, I can stop wondering what he is like. Could he really that dangerous? Could the stories I have read online be true?

It's not too far from the motel so I decide to walk to the bar hoping it will clear my mind and calm my nerves. It doesn't. I look at the place as I am about to enter it, heavy bikes are lined up in the front, neon signs surround the entrance. Why on earth would anybody voluntary be here? As I enter the bar the whole place goes quite, I am clearly way out of my league. But I need to remind myself why I am here.

I take a seat at the bar and the guy behind the bar eyes me up and down. He is around forty, big, muscled and covered in ink. He is wearing the same jacket as was left on my doorstep, in fact all of the people inside this bar do. He has a mischievous smile around his lips; "Lost doll?" he asks. "No" I feel intimidated by him, come on Alex get it together. 

"Why are you here, doll?" he asks. I gather all my courage and answer. "Last time I checked this was a bar and I am thirsty. So the polite thing to do is ask me what I want to drink." I hear laughter throughout the bar, I feel a lot of eyes on me. Why did I ever think that coming here was a good idea? He slides me a drink, I take a look at it. It has a golden brown liquid inside it. I swirl the glass and sniff out the odors. When the scent hits my nose I instantly now what it is. Whiskey, neat. Is he testing me? Luckily my father learned me how to drink. In case I ever got myself in a position where people were trying to get advantage of me. I smile at him. 

"Really? You don't even know my age?" He pulls up his shoulders and smiles at me. "There's a special place reserved for me in hell. So why bother?" I roll my eyes. The bar guy studies me will I drink. I take a sip and let it slowly slide in my mouth. I do exactly as I did so many times with my father. "Well doll you sure now how to drink your whiskey." I smile at him. I study his arms for a couple of seconds, they are covered with tattoo's. 

He grabs his beard and brushes through it. "But this sure isn't a place for beautiful girls like yourself." He says. I blush and gather all my courage. "I am here to see Ranger." The whole place turns quite. Shit now I am actually scared, if not everybody was already looking at me, they sure as hell are now. "Ranger isn't here at the moment, leave your name and I'll pass him a message." He says. "No I am good." Last thing I want to do is receive a surprise visit from these boys. I place some bills on the counter and walk out, hoping I still have some confidence left to make it out of the door. 

It isn't until I am outside that I notice my hands are shaking. I close my eyes and focus so I'll calm down. This was way more intimidating than I imagined and I haven't even met my father. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Maybe I better leave now that I still am in one piece. And then there is something that pulls me out of my thought train. 

"Hi beautiful, what's got you so riled up?" 

It is more a someone. I open my eyes and in front of me is standing the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He towers over me and looks straight into my eyes. I look over at his face and feel conflicted. He has the most beautiful warm smile I have ever seen and yet his grey eyes are stone cold. He has brown messy hair. His left arm is covered with a pattern of roses, skulls and wings while his right lower arm consists off a Maori tattoo and something that looks like a human heart with gears and bicycle parts. And by his patches I can identify that he is the Vice-President of the Silent Riders. 

I am lost for words, what can I say to this man without making a complete fool out of myself. "Are you okay?" his voice booms over me and yet sparks something in my belly. "Yeah sorry, It was just a bit intense." I finally manage to answer. "My boys can have that effect on people." He laughs and it warms my heart a bit. "Why don't you let me buy you a drink, to apologize?" He says with a smile. I smile back at him and blush. "Maybe another time." He returns with a devilish, cocky grin that makes my core melt. "As you wish. I hope to see you again." He waves and I walk past him. He strides into the bar without even looking back as the door opens I hear laughter erupt and blush even harder. I roll my eyes and walk back to my motel.