All Chapters of The Biker's Rules: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Date = 31 OctoberPlace = San Francisco (Reaper venue)POV - DamionI swing her playfully onto the dance floor, turn, and come face-to-face with the 5-foot-4, heart-stopping, stubborn-as-hell beauty as we wait for the music to start.You hurt me you did … Several timesIt hurts to admit that we’re no different … I find it hard to commitBut you don’t even tryStill, I’m better with than without youI pull her tight. She closes her eyes, sucks in a breath, and leans into me — as if it’s an extremely difficult thing to do. Her breasts brush against my chest, her thighs to mine, and everything in between connects, as we slide over the floor.“Culture Code,” she says. “Did you choose the song?” A loose long blonde strand of her hair gets stuck to my stubble.“Yes.” I feel odd. And a fuckload of other things — breathless, anxious, hot, frightened, excited, arrhythmic, drunk, restless — but talkative is not one of them. As we dance, the tight black dress offers peek-a-boo hints of some red l

Date = 5 NovemberPlace = San Francisco (Inferno)POV - MelaenaA neon sign lights up above us. INFERNO. I drive around the building to the private parking area at the back. Inferno has three entrances … the front, for anybody … but being underage I can’t go in there. The club’s bouncers are extremely strict and thorough — even with me.Then there’s the VIP entrance on the side. To get in there you need to be a somebody … and not just any somebody … one of the very special somebodies that are important enough to qualify for a special disk. Without the disk, you’ll have to wait in line like anybody else.And then there’s the third entrance … the one I’m heading to know. This one requires another disk … the closed-circle one — for family and friends only. This disk opens a gate to a private underground parking area with a staircase leading straight to the VIP section on the second floor. The only area, except for the restaurant, where I’m allowed to go — yet.I park the car and Lucinda’s

Date = 6 NovemberPlace = San Francisco (Mel’s house)POV - DamionBANG BANG BANG“Go left,” Logan shouts, “we’ll attack from two sides.” I move my man to the left.THUD I’m hit.“Fuck.” I duck my man behind an old car, trying to find the shooter.BOOM BOOM“It’s Sean … on that building,” I say.“Keep him busy. I’m going in.”I shoot to cover Logan so he can take out Sean.BANG BANG BANG BANG“Holy fuck!” Someone touches my shoulder.I jerk and crank my neck, at the same time pulling off my headset. It’s Mel. She’s home. My mouth moves into an automatic grin.Because of this planned game date, I was forced to leave her with that stuck-up trainer. The one that makes my gut turn. But now she’s here.Logan notices her “Wait, guys, girl in the house. I’m going to pause,” he says into his mic and then he removes his headset as well.“Hi, Sis, you’re home.” He says in the sweetest voice he can master.“What are you doing in my house?” she pries, crossing her arms. Her eyes are balls of fire

Date = 7 NovemberPlace = San Francisco (Scoma’s Restaurant)POV - Damion“Are you gonna order a third dessert? Or are we leaving?” She has a point. We’ve been here since four. That’s what the message said … Scoma’s. Pick you up at 4.Now it’s nearly six and there’s no sign of her or the douchebag.“Can you tell me again why we are here exactly?” I stare into her teasing face. If she wasn’t one of my most favorite people on this earth, I would probably have strangled her by now.Why are we here? That’s a very good question. One I don’t exactly have an answer for — except … stupidity. Maybe jealousy. Or possessiveness. None of them are very good answers.Then my heart does a double-take triple-somersault with a fucking headstand, leaving me gulping for air.She walks in with that stuck-up puppy trainer, in the shortest, sexiest, milk-pink dress that curves tight against her perfect body. And the little zipper holding in her cleavage makes me pay fucking attention.“What type of dick-tea

Date = 8 NovemberPlace = San Francisco (Damion’s house)POV - DamionI stare at the tiny black-and-white photo in the locket. It’s old and a little faded. But it clearly is a family — mom, dad, brother and sister.“That’s Harry and his family.” Jackson is walking up and down my living room. It’s the Blackburn way of thinking … they all do that. But they also have their own unique thing too.For instance, Mel would rub a piece of cloth, usually her sleeve, between her thumb and index finger — indicating that she’s either deep in thought or pretty anxious.Logan takes the locket from me. “This locket came from the person who stabbed you?” he asks as confirmation. I remember that Jackson shoved something into Axel’s hand before they took him away. I’m just not sure why he didn’t tell us about it sooner.“Yes, I grabbed it while we struggled. I almost got the fucker’s hood off too, but I was a little short of breath.” Jackson stops and stares through the large window into the darkness. It