Free BANE: A Devils' Due MC Romance Novel by Ora Wilde Page A

fantasize about!”
     
    She was still snickering when I revved up my bike.  As soon as the engine blared, she clung tighter and rested her head on my back.
     
    It was the first time I saw her that... normal ... without the crying and the whimpering and the drama and all that junk.  She’s actually nice company when she’s like this.  But how long would she be able to keep it up?
     
    That was about to be put to a test as I started to ride towards the clubhouse.
     
     

     
     
     
    “Shut ‘yer fucking pie hole, woman!” I screamed at Nancy, the wannabe ol’ lady who showered the girl with curses as soon as we entered the lobby.
     
    Everyone heard me berate her.  The girls tried their best to refrain from speaking after that.  They didn’t want to suffer the same fate.
     
    I gently nudged Lana’s back, motioning her to proceed to the room.  I walked a step behind her.  The brothers stared at me.  They gave me a knowing smile.  Some of them even raised their beer bottles as I passed.  I knew what these motherfuckers were thinkin’.    They can jerk off to that thought tonight, for all I cared.
     
    As soon as the girl went inside her room, I rejoined the party. Bumbux was quick to hand over a Miller which I finished in three gulps. I didn't realize I was that thirsty.
     
    Trevor was at the other side of the lobby, sitting in a table with a couple of the mamas resting on his lap. He raised his hand and invited me to come to him. I did. I couldn't say no to the veep. That was one of our rules, to always obey a ranking officer... no exceptions. He pushed the women away and asked me to sit on the chair in front of him.
     
    "You banging her?" he asked, a question that I knew was on everyone's mind.
     
    "Hell no!" I answered. "She's too fucking young for me."
     
    "Like how young?"
     
    "Eighteen summers."
     
    "Legal."
     
    "Inappropriate."
     
    "Why? Because she's as young as your daughter?"
     
    I didn't reply. It was a fucked up topic that I wasn't comfortable discussing. Too much drama there.  Too many loose ends. Too much pain.
     
    "How old is your kid again?" Trevor continued to question.
     
    "Seventeen... I think."
     
    "And her name's Lala, correct?"
     
    "Lalafelle. Lalafelle Chase."
     
    "Good thing her mother allowed her to use your name."
     
    "Heh. She needed leverage for child support."
     
    "And you provide?"
     
    "I have to. I give her everything I earn, Veep. Got no savings because of it."
     
    "Jesus, Bane! Your kid's name even sounds like the rat's daughter's. Surely you've taken a liking to our new tenant."
     
    "Not really," I denied. "Renzo's brat got a little bit of an attitude. She can be very feisty once y’ya get to know her."
     
    "You like your bitches feisty," Trevor reminded me as he laughed.
     
    "Well, yes. But this chick and me? Ain't happenin', Veep. She's carryin' a lot of drama, and the club got issues with her. I don't need that kind of baggage."
     
    Trevor eyed me intently as he took s sip from his glass of whiskey. He wanted to know if I was dead serious about what I just said. I had to show that I was.
     
    "This club needs that kind of drama, I believe," he eventually continued. "It makes us remember who we really are instead of being consumed by the idea of who we should be."
     
    "Who we are?" I asked. He got me confused.
     
    "Humans. Humans who can easily be blinded by hate and anger... humans who should strive to rise above them all, to find the compassion necessary to do the right thing."
     
    "Fuck, Trev... ‘yer drunk," I chuckled.
     
    "Think about it, Bane. The brothers... they may not be that vocal about it, but they fucking hate the girl. And why? For the sole reason that she's Renzo's kid? Is that even right? The girl's not her old man. She shouldn't be made to suffer for the sins of her father."
     
    Trevor's words gave me a semblance of comfort. At least I knew that I wasn't alone in feeling pity for the kid.
     
    "Yet they abhor her like she