Bear by Marteeka Karland

Bear (Grim Road MC 5)
Marteeka Karland
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Marteeka Karland

Bear

I hated venturing out into the city. Always made me feel like there was a target on my fucking back. My true identity was buried so deep even facial recognition software couldn’t find me, but since I’d been in my twenties, I’d spent my life running. The government saw to that.

What I thought was a service to help my country turned into a killing spree on the order of genocide. I’d disobeyed my orders but ended up on a Terminate with Extreme Prejudice list. Rocket, the closest person I had to a friend, had brought me to Riviera Beach, Florida, where I’d taken up with the motorcycle club, Grim Road. The club’s history was long and distinguished in hiding men like me. I’d been here ever since.

It was nearly midnight on a Saturday. The streets weren’t exactly teaming, but several bars were open, which was where most people were this time of night. Some headed home. Others milled about enjoying the evening air. It wasn’t cool by any means, but the night brought in a breeze from the ocean that wasn’t stifled by the heat of the sun during the day. This was my favorite part of the night.

“You lookin’ for somethin’ in particular or just wishin’ you could go back and change your life choices?” Ringo, our enforcer, sidled up next to me, handing me a beer.

“Thanks,” I said as I popped the top and took a long swig. “Just thinkin’. Ain’t much for bein’ out of the compound.”

“Oh, I know. Which is why I followed.” The other man gave me a half smirk, half smile.

“Right. That, and Lemon probably told you to have my back.”

He chuckled. “Little witch is certainly big on that kinda shit. But no. You’ll be happy to know I did this all on my own.”

I gave him a side eye. “Really. You tryin’ to keep me honest? Afraid I’m out to betray the club?”

Instantly, Ringo’s whole demeanor changed. “Hey, now. Jumping to conclusions there, Bear?” Ringo raised an eyebrow. “Of all the men in this club, you’d be the last one I’d accuse of betraying the club or anyone in it. Fully expected Rocket to make you his VP. I’d have supported that.”

I snorted. “No way in fuckin’ hell I want that job. Besides, Lemon is much better suited.”

“Ain’t sayin’ she’s not. Just sayin’ I was surprised when Rocket didn’t put your name in the hat for the job long before Lemon came on the scene.”

The two of us headed down the sidewalk. Kind of felt like we were patrolling the area. There were several bars and clubs here, and some of them weren’t altogether safe. A couple times a week, I’d taken to walking up and down the strip. I wouldn’t say I was looking for trouble, but I wasn’t opposed to stopping trouble if it found me. The self-imposed job got me out of the compound as well as extended some measure of protection to the community which pleased the VP to no end. I wouldn’t exactly call the city our community, but I got the impression that’s what Lemon wanted it to be. Crush and Byte worked continually to strengthen all our identity covers. Rocket wasn’t opposed, so I took this as my due diligence. I was doing my part, however quietly, to set an example to the other members. It’s how I did things.

“He offered.” I shrugged. “Not my thing.”

“Oh, really.” The bastard smirked and I wanted to beat the shit outta him, but restrained myself. Barely. “Was that before or after you corralled us all and put the idea of voting Lemon in as VP, or after?”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna do it. Someone had to, and she was the best choice. You look me in the eye and tell me who else in Grim would be doing a better job than Lemon, and I’ll volunteer that bastard.”

Ringo chuckled. “Right. I’ll get on that. But you have to promise you’ll be the one to break the news to Lemon.”

I snorted. “Not on your fuckin’ life. Girl might be small and young, but she’s vicious like no man I’ve ever met. You tell her your own Goddamn self.”

We stared at each other a moment before Ringo’s lips twitched. Once that happened, we both broke down into chuckles. Neither of us would be suggesting a replacement for Lemon.

The conversation eased something inside me. Like I knew Ringo had my back or something where always before I’d kind of felt like I was on my own in the middle of a crowd. Yeah, I knew if I were really in trouble, outside of a mission, I could count on my brothers. Always had. But it was different now.

“Thanks, man. I think I needed that.”

“For what? The reminder that a little five-foot-nothing girl is making a better vice president than you?”

I snorted. “No, dumbass. The laugh.”

Ringo grinned. “Wait till I tell Lemon you were wanting to replace her.”

“Whoa. Not cool, bro. Besides, it was you who brought it up. And I will totally throw you under the bus if you start that bullshit.”

God, it felt good to banter with Ringo. I’d had that kind of atmosphere a couple of times on jobs for the CIA, but it was never as relaxed as it was now.

I took a deep breath and rolled my head on my shoulders, easing some of the tension that always seemed to be there when I ventured too far from the compound. It wasn’t that I was scared. It was more like I felt like someone was watching. Just waiting to make a move.

I could handle myself in an ambush. Fuck knew I’d been in that situation before and had come out on the other side. Worse for wear maybe, but the other guys fared far, far worse. Always.

Ringo snorted. “Glad to be of service, brother.”

We continued down the street. The sound of people partying or generally having a good time filled the night. Each time we passed a bar, the scent of alcohol hit us. Occasionally someone would be smoking a joint or a cigarette and those scents would blend in as well. Passing a strip joint brought the cheap perfume into the mix.

I was about to suggest we go inside one of the strip clubs, just to pass the time with something different when I spotted a woman making her way down the sidewalk. Something about the way she moved was just that little bit off. She glanced behind her, then straight ahead. She hesitated, then continued moving.

“What’s goin’ on there?” I asked the question more to myself than to Ringo, but the other man zeroed in on the woman immediately.

“Not sure. Could be she’s just lost.”

“Right,” I agreed, though I wasn’t so sure. Something about her posture wasn’t right. “Could be.”

“Uh-huh.”

We both continued forward but at a slower pace. Grim Road MC wasn’t a secret club, per se. The club was known to the locals, just not where the clubhouse was or who any of us were beyond our road names. To everyone around us, we were simply another motorcycle club in the area around Palm Beach. As such, we wore our colors proudly. So, when the girl got closer to us, and we slowed down, we wanted her to know what we were.

I stopped while Ringo turned slowly around in a circle with his hands out, letting her see the emblem on the back of his vest proclaiming him a member of Grim Road.

She let loose a little sob and ran the rest of the way to us. To my complete and utter shock, instead of stopping when she reached us, the girl threw herself into my arms, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

And I’ll be Goddamned if my whole body didn’t come alive. Lust I’d never even dreamed about punched me in the dick before sucking me into its mouth and making me hard as a fucking pole. The scent of her was like something out of a dream. Fresh spring flowers and a dash of cinnamon. She was slender, but I could feel every single one of her slight curves against my big body. She was so small I could easily wrap my arms all the way around her with room to spare. Unfortunately, instead of moaning and finding my mouth with hers, she trembled in my arms. I didn’t think it was from desire. Her mouth at my ear was a sinful promise. Until she spoke.

“Angela,” she whimpered. “I need Angela.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” I said loudly. “Missed you, too.” I chuckled, swinging her around happily. What I was really doing was putting my body between her and the two men I now saw following her.

I didn’t acknowledge the men. Instead, I strode down the sidewalk with her still in my arms. Ringo had my back. If he couldn’t discourage the guys, I could get her far enough away she could get inside to the relative safety of a bar or club. Then, I’d help Ringo help these motherfuckers have themselves an accident.

When I rounded the corner with her, I set her on her feet, but kept hold of her hand. Everything inside me rebelled at the separation. I wanted to pull her solidly against me again but needed to make sure I had one hand free if Ringo needed me. Stepping from behind the wall, I eyed Ringo. He stood where I’d left him, but the men were already gone. Ringo took slow looks around the area as he backed toward me. I gave a low whistle, and Ringo turned and hurried in my direction.

“Get to the bikes.” Ringo’s order was delivered in a crisp voice. “They didn’t keep following after you picked her up. You spoke and they backed off. Still don’t want to take a chance.”

“To Knox’s place?” I knew we couldn’t take her to the compound. Not without precautions. If the guys had truly backed off, she wasn’t in immediate danger. If they hadn’t, we’d reevaluate when we spotted them.

Ringo nodded. “I’ll be on your six. Just gonna let Rocket know what’s goin’ on and that we’ll call him when we know more.”

I grunted, but tugged her with me and hurried to my bike.