Free Ride Angel Ride: A Biker Erotic Romance (Red Skulls MC) by Emily Stone

 
    CHAPTER ONE
     
    Mary Taylor was switching on and off an old neon sign depicting the outline of Chief Pontiac. The sign was mounted on a wall opposite the manager’s desk… her father’s desk. And that twisted neon tube was the beginning of it all.
     
    Atticus Taylor did not come to Las Vegas in the early 1970s with the idea of founding one of the most ruthless motorcycle gangs in Nevada. He had just wanted somewhere he could go to forget Vietnam and open a motorcycle repair shop. Atticus had always loved bikes and had a flair for making them purr– or growl–that was the envy of many. He knew that he could make a go of it in the right place, and just then the right place had seemed to be Vegas.
     
    There wasn't a whole lot of financing when he got started, just a little GI money. There had been this abandoned car dealership up on the hill that had once been right on the highway. When they cut the new road through and lowered it, access became more difficult and the dealership moved closer to town. This was back in 1958, when the Pontiac emblem was still Chief Pontiac with his hair streaming behind him like a set of wings.
     
    By 1970, the building had been in rough shape. The sign had faded away completely, but somehow the neon outline of the Chief still glowed in the night sky. The realtor’s sign near the base of the pole was also badly faded, and only one of the small spotlights on each side of the sign worked. The power to the realtor’s sign also powered the Chief each night, so his red outline had become something of a landmark. Most people had long forgotten who he was actually supposed to be, though, so locals would give directions like, “three miles past the red skull,” or, “two exits past the red skull.”
     
    When Atticus had leased and then bought the buildings and the land around them, he had repainted the sign. Smart businessman that he was, he took advantage of the popular name and called his shop “The Red Skull Motorcycle Shop.” He filled in the red neon with a bright red skull with flames trailing back in the shape of the old chief’s wings. Old Chief Pontiac was moved to Attics’ office wall.
     
    Word of Atticus’ skill had spread rapidly, and his business grew. He was approached by CJ Walsh, who was trying to get a custom shop started and needed space. Soon The Red Skull Motorcycle Shop and CJ’s Custom Bikes became a magnet for those who loved two or three wheels on the open road. When the time was right, Atticus bought the local Harley dealer and moved it to his location. After that, The Red Skull became the place for serious bikers to gather.
     
    Somewhere along the line, the gathering became a club and the club became the Red Skulls. The Skulls also branched out into several different endeavors, many of them on the wrong side of the law. That was 40 years ago, and now there were Red Skull Motorcycle Shops and Red Skull Motorcycle Club branches in 11 states. A large Red Skull clubhouse now stood alongside the motorcycle shop and dealership.
     
    Atticus Taylor himself was “retired.” In fact, he functioned more like the chairman of the board of a large business. He didn’t bother himself with day-to-day affairs, but had a lot of control over major decisions. After stepping down, he had appointed Wild Bill as head of the Vegas club, and when Bill had gotten himself killed in a dispute with some rival clubs, Atticus had appointed Garrison Sloane to succeed him.
     
    Sloane was something of a wildcard, and Mary was never sure how to read him. He was very different from Wild Bill and her dad, but Gary had Atticus’ complete respect and confidence. Garrison ran club business on a daily basis and could usually be found at the clubhouse. He was young and more than handsome, and Mary had thought about trying to get something going with him, but he seemed to be infatuated with someone named Sarah, who owned a bar way out in the desert.
     
    Mary took over management of the