Chapter Three

*Brixton*

I pull my phone out of my pocket as I walk out of Jay's office and start down the stairs. I hear the front door slam close as I glance around, checking how well they cleaned the place up after all the customers had left. I walk up to the bar, run my hand over the bartop, feeling if it's clean or not, and then slightly lean over it to check behind the bar.

"Damn…spotless."

I walk out of the front door, typing out a text message to all the MC brothers about meeting tomorrow to vote on a decision about the bar.

"Church. Noon. Mandatory."

I turn the corner of the building while pressing send, then I tuck my phone back in my pocket. I look up,

"What the fuck?"

I whisper stopping dead in my tracks.

"You better back the fuck up!" someone yells.

I stand there, staring at the figure pointing a gun at me, after a quick moment I notice some long blonde hair poking out the hood part of her jacket, and realize it's Lauryn. I'm not exactly sure how to handle this situation, so I just blurt out the first thing that pops into my head.

"Whoa! Easy there, sparky!"

I see her lower the gun, finally realizing who I am.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU! YOU CAN'T JUST GO AROUND SNEAKING UP BEHIND PEOPLE IN DARK PARKING LOTS LATE AT NIGHT! I COULD HAVE KILLED YOU!"

She drops the clip out of the gun and sets it down on the bike seat next to her, clears the chamber sending the unfired bullet flying out of the gun, and catches it mid-air.

"There, keep that, it's the one that could have taken your life" Lauryn says as she tosses the bullet towards me. I catch it easily and tuck it into my jeans pocket. I know what the gesture means, but I'm kind of confused by how she would know to do that.

Then it hit me what she just yelled at me. "What the hell are you yelling about? I wasn't sneaking up on anyone. I'm simply walking to my bike to leave, and because you got all freaked out, it's my fault? No, sweetheart, it doesn't work that way. That type of reaction comes from… Wait… Have you or any of the other girls been attacked when you were leaving work?"

I watch Lauryn's face go pale at my question. I want to push for answers like I do with club issues, but I don't think that will work, she's just going to close up and not say anything. She drops her face slightly, looking towards the building wall like it's the most interesting thing in the world, then starts to bite at her bottom lip. I take a few steps forward, coming to stand right in front of her, crossing my arms over my chest, and raising my eyebrows, letting her know I'm still waiting for an answer. Lauryn rolls her eyes as she turns her head, looks up at me, and lets out a sigh.

"No. No one has been attacked… here."

Lauryn's tense body language told me there was a story there, but I wasn't going to push it, she would tell me if and when she wanted to. I give her a sharp nod and turn my attention to the bike behind her.

"This yours?"

"No, I just like to stand next to a random person's motorcycle at 3 in the morning for the hell of it…" Lauryn says every word dripping with sarcasm, and a playful smile spreads across her face.

"Yes, that beauty is mine. She may look like a toddler bike next to yours, but I love it."

"You are not wrong there, definitely toddler size. I'm pretty sure if I tried to ride this bike, my knees would be in my chest."

"Omg, you're not that much taller than me. What are you... 6 foot?"

Lauryn comes to stand right next to me, and looks up and down like some magic numbers would appear above my head.

"Actually, I'm 6'2."

Lauryn starts laughing, "Yeah, 6'2 on a good day. I'm sticking with my 6 foot guess."

"Well, how tall are you, short stuff?"

"Short stuff? I'm the average height of women in America... 5'5'," Lauryn says, putting her hands on her hips; she radiates sassy and sexy.

I lean down, so my head is level with hers. "Yeah, sorry to break it to ya sweetheart, but that's short."

I laugh at the cute little annoying pout she makes at my comment, "So what are toddlers cruising around town on these days?" I ask as I stand back to full height and turn my attention back to her bike.

I hear her sigh, still slightly annoyed at my comment then looks down at her bike.

"It's a restored vintage Indian Scout. Don't ask the year because I've installed so many different parts from various years… there's no telling what it started at." Lauryn says with a shrug, never looking away from the bike.

I reach out to touch it to check it out, and before I could reach it, she smacks my hand.

"What was that for?" I ask her feeling a little confused.

"Don't you know it's a big insult to touch someone else's bike without asking first?"

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Lau-Ryn! May I please touch your bike?" I ask matching the sarcasm she has right now.

"Yes, you may Brixton," Lauryn says, giggling, as she holds her hand out like a game show model showing off the prizes.

I shake my head and chuckle as I take a second attempt at touching her bike. I pull my phone out, turn on the flashlight bending down next to it and start checking everything out.

"Who restored it?" I ask making my way around to the other side. Whoever worked on this really knows what they were doing; it's flawless.

"Me…"

Her answer surprises me,

"Well, my grandfather helped out a lot in the beginning, but I finished it up after he passed away," Lauryn quietly says with a small shrug.

"Can you cook too? I mean damn... you can dance, make drinks and work on motorcycles; the only thing left is cooking, then that sums up the perfect biker's Ol' Lady."

"Not sure if I should feel flattered or insulted by that, but, yes, I can cook, clean, and I've been known to do some laundry from time to time."

"Definitely flattered. Where I come from some women try their whole lives to become an Ol' Lady. It's kind of the equivalent to being someone's wife, but better. It's a lot more serious. No matter what your legal status is with each other, 'once his Ol' Lady, always his Ol' Lady'; and the same goes for him, he's always hers no matter what." I say with a slight shrug as I stand back up.

"How does your Ol' Lady feel about you staying out all hours of the night talking to other women... alone in dark parking lots?"

I can't help but laugh, thinking she is trying to find out if I'm single or not. I walk back around her bike, tucking my hands deep into my front jean pockets, and stop right in front of her. Lauryn looks up at me, and I could tell she really didn't care if I was single or not; this chic is just busting my balls right now.

"First of all, I don't have an Ol' Lady. Secondly, if I ever decide to have one, she will never be given a reason to question or not trust me. So no, my Ol' Lady wouldn't care if I was out talking to a woman in a dark parking lot late at night because she will always know where my loyalty lies."

"Geez don't have to get all emotional and shit, it was a simple question." Lauryn says with a teasing smile, as I roll my eyes.

As much as it annoys me to be teased by a woman I don't even know, I have to admit I'm kind of enjoying it and realize just how long it's been since I've truly laughed.

"Alright Sparky, I'm out, my ego can't handle this type of abuse anymore, plus it's pancake time"

Turning, I swing my right leg over my bike and sit down on the seat.

"Pancakes? At 3:30 in the morning?"

"Yeah, you can eat pancakes any damn time of the day. You wanna go and try some 3:30am pancakes? They are way better than the 8:30am pancakes"

I watch her swing her left leg over her bike, and settle down on her seat. I hold my hand out letting her know I'm waiting for an answer.

"Ugh"

Lauryn groans as she tilts her head back a little, looks up at the sky for a second and then looks back over at me.

"Damn it! Pancakes do sound good right now. If it was a Saturday night I wouldn't let you get the full question out before I was asking which restaurant. However, I know without fail once I sit down and I'm still for more than 5 minutes I will be asleep. I'm pretty sure you want your breakfast company, alert, coherent and able to hold a conversation."

She does a fake cry like she's bummed about not having pancakes.

"Alright, pancakes tomorrow morning then, no more excuses or you'll miss out on the best pancakes in town." I say as I give her a big smile, and put my helmet on.

I see Lauryn give me a small smile as she shakes her head. She grabs the straps to her helmet and lifts it like she's going to put it on but stops mid way. She looks over at me as a big smile spreads across her face, "Tomorrow it is then."

She giggles and slides her helmet on. I hear her pop the bike into neutral, and watch her push herself up almost like she's going to stand on the seat. I notice her foot is on the kickstarter, she pushes down on the starter, using her entire body weight to start the bike. If she was a pound lighter, that starter would not have gone down. I chuckle and shake my head as I kick my bike to life without having to leave my seat. Lauryn walks her bike back out of the space, then drives off towards the exit of the parking lot; I walk my bike back out of the space and take off behind her.

Since it was so late, the roads are almost empty, Lauryn and I end up next to each other at a red light. I look over at her and rev my engine. She looks over at me and revs right back; her bike doesn't have the Harley rumble but it has a nice purr to it. I see her move her foot putting the bike in first gear, so I follow suit, popping my bike into first as well. When the light turns green, we both take off, racing to the next light. I watch her out of the corner of my eye impressed with how smoothly she handles her bike. We both reach the light at the same time, this goes on for two more lights. She beats me to the second light and then I beat her to the last one. By the fourth light she throws her hand up waving bye as she makes a left turn disappearing into the darkness of the night.