SAVIOR: A Motorcycle Club Romance (3 page)

“I’m a biker,” he answered, hitting the ignition for the jeep. It sounded like he belonged to some motorcycle gang. I didn’t know whether to be filled with dread or curiosity. “That baby’s fitted and rigged for off-road biking but it’s not meant for riding in this weather. Anyway, it’s just five miles to my house.”

The man steadily but surely drove the jeep across the snowy highway. I looked back at the supplies in the back of the jeep. “You look like you were prepared for the snow-apocalypse.”

He chuckled. “Is that what the news is calling it?”

“It’s either that or the Ice-Armageddon. In any case, you seem to be ready for anything.”

“It pays to be prepared for even the rapture in these parts. It only takes a storm a few hours to cut off the power and block all the exits. I’ve stocked up on two weeks’ worth of groceries. I also have enough wood stockpiled to last a month.”

“I’m sorry if I’m inconveniencing you-“

“You’re quite the handful in the middle of the worst storm in years,” the biker grinned. “Why doesn’t a girl like you have a boyfriend to help you out in a pinch?”

Even though it brought back painful memories, I could not help but blushed at the question. “Sorry, I’m single now and couldn’t-“

He shot me a half smile. “Relax, I’m just teasing you.”

“Oh!”

“It’s no trouble… it’s basic human decency,” the man replied. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brings you to these parts? This road doesn’t get too many visitors. You’re lucky I drove here when I did.”

“With half the exits closed, I got lost after taking the wrong turn,” I sighed. “I planned on going to the emergency center in the city. It was either that or risk getting snowed in at my apartment.”

“I guess it’s a good thing you got stuck in that ditch,” the man replied, glancing into the side mirror. “Just this morning, I heard on the radio that interstate high was closed down.”

“The weather was already that bad in the morning?”

“No, there was a six car collision,” he answered. “No was seriously hurt but the pile-up closed down the highway.”

“By the way,” I began, feeling the ice break between us. Pun not intended. “What’s your name? My name is Emily.”

“It’s Max,” he answered after a moment of hesitancy. “Max Faulkner. The last name actually came from my wife. I grew up as sort of an orphan… never had a real name or birth certificate to myself.”

“You took your last name from your wife?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “That must be some story. I’d like to hear it from her.”

For a moment, Max was silent as if evaluating what to say. “She died I’m afraid.”

I cursed at myself for my faux pas. “Sorry…”

“Don’t worry, Emily,” he replied, shaking his head. “It was a long time ago. I’ve mostly been living by myself.”

I decided to change the subject. “How far away is your house?”

“A couple more miles,” he answered, still driving cautiously. The snowfall had cleared up a little bit but not enough to make traveling a pleasure cruise. We couldn’t see too far ahead but at least we weren’t completely blind. “It’s hard to find if you don’t know where to look. Maria, that’s my wife’s name, and I wanted a place away from the city. So we found a plot of land in the wilderness and built a home there.”

I whistled in amazement. “You built your own home?”

“I may have done the heavy lifting but it was my wife who designed it,” he answered, pride evident in his voice. His grey eyes glistened as if recalling bittersweet memories. “She had a plan for every block of brick and every plank of wood. Maria got her degree in architecture but never got a chance to put it to good use. She made for lost time with our house.”

“I didn’t think there was a real estate market for these types of places.”

“I got it as a parting gift from the president from my old motorcycle club,” Max explained. The snowstorm still raged on but we were comfortable inside the jeep. “The land was a retirement gift for my years of service. He had won it off a card game but never found a use for it. I worked as sergeant-at-arms for the Steel Eagles before I could legally order a drink. That was back when I was working as a gunrunner down South near the border.”

“That’s right, you said you were a biker,” I replied, curious about the man’s seemingly checkered past. “Did you get into trouble?”

He gave a teasing smile. “Are you asking how much stuff I needed to smuggle across the border before I got on the FBI’s most wanted list?”

I blushed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t probe so much, especially after how much you’ve helped me.”

“Relax, I get that question a lot,” Max chuckled, easing the tension. “I used to deal in trafficking weapons.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“I can’t say I didn’t have a few run-ins with the law or some other gangs,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Yes, the work was dangerous but the pay was good. We could’ve lived as kings if the IRS wouldn’t ask where we got the money. Now, I’m on the straight and narrow. Then again, once a Steel Eagle, always a Steel Eagle.”

“Why’d you leave?” I asked. “It sounded like a cushy gig… if you had the stomach for that kind of work.”

Max’s forehead furrowed. “It’s no place to start a family…”

“No need to explain, I understand,” I said, placing my hand on the warm dashboard. “Your wife was a lucky woman to have you.”

“No, I lucked out by falling in love with her,” he said with a laugh. It sounded more exhausted than cynical. “You should hear about how we met.”

It didn’t seem like we were getting to our destination any time soon. “Actually, I’d like to hear it. I love a good story.”

As we talked, the two of us became more comfortable in each other’s presence. I learned that Max had worked as a weapons smuggler for the Steel Eagles. He purchased surplus military goods from the black market or their usual contacts and got them to people who were willing to pay for them. His motorcycle club pocketed the difference. They made sure that no one got hurt if they could help it. It wasn’t entirely due to any sense of pacifism.

A dead body attracted the feds.

Other rival clubs, however, didn’t have the same standards. They smuggled everything from drugs to European paintings. They even smuggled people.

After one rival, the Black Cobras, hijacked one of their shipments, the Steel Eagles launched a raid on them. It was both a retaliation and a surgical strike in one dangerous package. An intense firefight followed but the Steel Eagles eventually won the day.

During the raid, they discovered that the Black Cobras were in the middle of trafficking people. Maria was amongst them. In the middle of the deadly firefight, Max had brought her to safety and defended her from the Cobras.

At the time, Maria was a German college student visiting America on a student visa. Young and naïve, she had met the wrong people and found herself coerced into smuggling for the Black Cobra. They had threatened to kill her loved ones back at Germany if she didn’t obey them.

After the smoke cleared, the Steel Eagles were not sure what to do with the victims. They had launched the raid as vengeance but found themselves in the middle of a human trafficking ring. The club president decided to call the feds and let them handle this. The Steel Eagles knew the FBI would love to swoop in and claim themselves as heroes.

However, Maria worried that she the authorities would deport her after they uncovered her connection to the Black Cobras. Max offered to take her into his care rather than hand her over to the authorities. During the shootout, the two formed a deep bond. It didn’t take long before it developed into true love.

Max and Maria got married a year later. She convinced him to leave the dangerous life of an outlaw biker. He agreed and the two headed up to start a family. She even got Max to enter college and earn a degree in mechanical engineering.

He gave up his days of reckless biking and gunrunning in order to start a home improvement business. The couple were able to live well and out of the eye of society. Eventually, Maria gave birth to their son, Michael.

“Don’t know why I’m telling you my life story,” he chuckled. “I don’t make a habit of talking about myself.”

“Must be my magnetic personality,” I said, smiling at my lame joke. It got a soft chuckle out of him at the very least. “At least I know my gallant host a little better.”

Max ended his story there. I guessed that was when tragedy struck his family. More importantly, we had arrived at his home.

His house was a real beauty. Rocks and plaster formed its sturdy base. Thick panes of wood made up its walls. For protection, most of the windows were boarded up or secured with extra sturdy glass. A large tarp covered the roof with reinforced bolts on the ground. It certainly looked like it could withstand the elements.

Parking in the garage, Max left me at his house so I could rest up and clean myself up. The man brought in all the groceries and supplies he had stockpiled up on for the coming storm. He returned to his jeep with his towing-kit. I was worried about putting him back out there in the snowstorm but he waved off my concerns.

With Max gone for the moment, I made myself at home. There was a fireplace in the living room which Max had encouraged me to use. He had even set it up so I just need to add more wood even fire started to die. Using the nearby poker, I gingerly poked the log, which warmed up the room. Fearful of burning the place down, I didn’t dare add any more wood to the fire.

Taking off my wet clothes, I stripped down to my shirt and panties. I didn’t plan on dressing so immodestly but my spare clothing was in my car. There would be time to change later. Nonetheless, Max would probably think I was trying to seduce him.

I noticed a few photos on the mantelpiece. Many of them were of a beautiful young woman who had to be Maria. There were also a few of the couple with their son, Michael. His son must have been as young as two years old in those photos. I didn’t see any signs of him in the house. Whatever tragedy had killed his wife must have claimed his son as well.

I heard the front door open and the howl of wind. The sound of Max’s footsteps soon followed. Thankfully, he had carried in some of my belongings with him.

“I pulled your car into the garage,” Max said, handing me my keys. He took a moment to glance at my clothes. Or lack thereof. I blushed but my host continued. “I got some of your luggage with me in case you need a change of clothes.”

“Thanks,” I said, turning flush. “I don’t suppose you’re hungry.”

Max’s eyes narrowed at my exposed skin. However, it was a look of concern rather than lust. He pointed to a scar on my shoulder. “What happened here?”

“Old bruise from a bicycle accident,” I lied. “You hungry?”

“I am starving actually,” he replied. Max went over to one his grocery bags and rummaged through it. “It’s nothing too fancy but I have mac n’ cheese, ramen packets, some granola bars, and a few other things.”