Stealing the biker, p.1
Stealing the Biker, page 1
Stealing The Biker ©2025 Glenna Maynard
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, business, establishments, locals or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events, business, organizations or locals is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and authenticity. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.
The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Contents
Reading Order
Author's Note
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty-one
22. Chapter Twenty-two
23. Chapter Twenty-three
24. Chapter Twenty-four
25. Chapter Twenty-five
26. Dear Reader,
27. About Glenna
Available Now
Reading Order
The Biker’s Kiss
Lady & The Biker
Tempting The Biker
Keeping The Biker
The Biker’s Lucky Charm
Taken By The Biker
The Biker’s Cherry
Claiming The Biker
The Biker’s Baby
Loving The Biker
The Biker’s Bunny
Taming The Biker
Trusting The Biker
The Biker Next Door
The Biker’s Vow
Stealing The Biker
Author's Note
Stealing The Biker takes place in the same timeline as Trusting The Biker, The Biker Next Door, & The Biker’s Vow. While reading those stories isn’t necessary to enjoy Stealing The Biker, reading this series in order is recommended for best enjoyment.
Chapter One
“Prospect,” Prodigy, the club’s road captain, calls me over to where he’s been in deep conversation with Link. Prodigy is intense in his own right, but Link downright scares the shit out of me. I’ve heard too many stories about how he earned his road name. People who get on his bad side end up with a chain wrapped around their neck while being dragged behind his motorcycle.
I swallow hard at the thought as I make my way over to them, trying to play it cool and like I’m not about to shit my pants. I never know what will land me on their bad side. I don’t intend to find out.
Whatever they ask me, my response is to answer with no problem, no matter what.
“What’s up?”
“We’ve got a special job for you.”
I try not to show my excitement. I’ve been looking for an opportunity to prove myself since I got my foot in the door of the Royal Bastards Motorcycle Club as a prospect. I’m the lowest man here. Their grunt for the next year or until they decide if I’ve got what it takes to become a patched member.
Starting out from the bottom, there’s only one way to go, and that’s up. I’ve been tasked with minor jobs and am hoping they are going to give me some real responsibility to prove I’m worthy.
“Anything you need. I’m your guy.”
“Right. Have you got a backpack?”
“No. What for?”
Link narrows his eyes on me. Shit. I didn’t mean to sound defiant. Fuck.
“You’re going back to school.”
“School?” I stare at them, my brows knitting together in confusion.
“Yeah, dumbass. High school. You’re young enough to pass yourself off as a student. You’ll fit right in.”
“What am I supposed to do at a high school? They’re going to know I’m not a student.” I shouldn’t be asking questions, but sneaking around a high school could land me in some serious shit.
“We need you to protect my niece. Kiesha.” Link pulls his cell phone out to show me a picture of this gorgeous girl with light pink hair.
I can’t stop the smile that crosses my face as I study the photo of Kiesha. She’s gorgeous. Hazel eyes with more flecks of green than brown peppered with hints of a yellow gold in them. Perfectly pouty bow-shaped lips.
Thwack.
Prodigy smacks the back of my head as Link growls at me in warning. “Don’t get any ideas. This is important. Just get to the school and stick to her side. Pretend you’re her boyfriend, if that’s what it takes. But if Zoe’s ex-husband shows up, don’t engage with him. Just focus on getting Kiesha to a safe location.”
Zoe is Link’s sister and Prodigy’s Ol’ Lady. I guess her ex-husband is back in town and causing problems. Kiesha is her youngest daughter. I overheard them discussing the situation while I was sweeping the floor.
I rub the back of my head where Prodigy smacked my neck. “Yeah. Of course. I have one question, though. What do I tell my girlfriend?”
“We’ll make sure she knows to play along. She’ll be waiting for you.”
“No. I mean Sabrina. She’s got a jealous streak.” She’s going to lose her shit over this.
“Do you want to earn your patch or not?”
“There’s nothing I want more.” And I mean that.
“Then you tell her it’s club business. She can fall in line or move the fuck on.”
“Right.” I gulp. Sabrina is going to cut my balls off. There’s no way in hell she’s going to be okay with me pretending to be someone else’s boyfriend. Especially when the girl looks like Kiesha.
She’s fucking gorgeous.
The total opposite of Sabrina. Not that my girl isn’t pretty in her own way, but I know how she’s going to react when she finds out.
She won’t care that it’s for a job. Sabrina hates that I’m prospecting. The only reason she somewhat tolerates it at all is because it keeps her close to her best friend, Ember. They’ve been attached at the hip since grade school. They do everything together.
Ember is Prodigy’s sister and in a relationship with Smoke. A dude that’s too damn old for her, but they make their relationship work.
My cell vibrates and I’m sure it’s with a text from my woman, wondering if I’m meeting her for lunch.
This will be the third time in the past week that I’ve stood her up. I know her patience is wearing thin and that she’s tired of hearing I’m busy with the club.
I don’t have a choice, though. The alternative would be telling Link no and I can’t do that.
My relationship may be doomed, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make the cut. There’s nothing I want more than to be patched in. Even if it means putting the club before my girl. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make if I have to choose.
Growing up, I never fit in with anyone, but here in Charleston, with the club, is where I belong. I can feel it deep in my bones that this is home. I’m meant for this.
Sabrina’s going to have to make her peace with the life I want to live if she wants to be with me.
As soon as I start my truck, as if she can sense I’m thinking about her, my phone blows up with notifications for missed calls. The last thing I need is her riding my ass again about putting the club before her, but I already know I’m going to catch hell from her no matter what I do.
I decline the call and fire off a text.
Can’t talk right now. I’m in the middle of something for the club.
Are we still on for lunch?
Not today.
The text bubbles move, then stop several times. She’s no doubt typing and deleting her response. I don’t have time to wait or to argue. It’s better to ask for forgiveness later than permission now. From what I’ve heard about this asshole ex of Zoe’s, the guy is a real douche.
I get another message from Link telling me what high school to be at and where to meet Kiesha.
I didn’t want to attend class when I was in school for real and I damn sure don’t want to repeat my senior year. However, this is important, and I need the brothers of the club to see that I’m reliable. That they can depend on me for anything.
Clipping my phone back into the handless holder stuck tot eh dashboard, I rev my engine and leave the clubhouse. My first destination is stopping off at a drugstore to grab a few school supplies that will aid in making my cover believable. A couple of notebooks and pens, along with a basic black backpack.
Thinking of returning to school is like going back to my own personal hell. Boring as fuck classes, pointless drama, gross food, and even nastier bathrooms. Is there anything worse than being forced to attend school when you graduated three years ago? Bile churns in the pit of my stomach. I’ve not even had breakfast yet.
I swing through a drive-thru and scarf down a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit on the way.
Maybe I should have grabbed Kiesha
School is the last fucking place I want to be, but proving myself to the club motivates me to do whatever is necessary.
After parking my truck a few blocks away, I lockup my truck and sling the backpack over my left shoulder, hoping I look like a student as I walk toward the school. Most of my tattoos are hidden by my leather jacket. I should have shaved. I meet up with Kiesha at the back entrance of the school. She’s even more gorgeous in person, and I shouldn’t be gawking at her when I have a girlfriend. Never mind the fact I graduated nearly three years ago.
I have no business being here, but I have my orders.
She gives me a once-over and rolls her eyes. “You must be Jimmy.”
And you must be trouble. She’s too cute for her own good and mine.
I take in her appearance.
Pure temptation that has me wondering Sabrina who.
She’s wearing a cream-colored frilly dress that has tiny pink flowers printed on it with a denim jacket and brown boots and a baby pink ribbon that matches her dress tied in her hair.
“Guess that makes you Kiesha.”
“I don’t need a babysitter. I can handle myself.”
“Yeah, well. Your uncle says differently.”
“My sperm donor doesn’t even remember what I look like. I’m the last person he’d reach out to. Link’s being overprotective.”
“I’m not going to be the one facing his wrath if something happens to you because I ignored his orders.”
She fingers the pearl choker that’s wrapped around her throat, seeming to think about what her uncle will do if I don’t follow through. “Whatever. Just make yourself invisible.”
Her bitchy attitude has me wanting to laugh. She looks sweet and innocent, but she’s anything but that when she opens her mouth. “No problem.” I follow her into the building as the bell for the next class rings, having no damn clue how to stay close and not be discovered. I follow her through the hallway surrounded by a loud crowd of teenagers living their lives obliviously, wrapped up in their dramas and aspirations.
They have no clue how good they have it right now. No idea what’s waiting for them once they enter the real world. Once they are considered an adult and no one is holding out a hand to help them navigate life.
I was forced to grow up young and fast due to the shitty circumstances I was born into. I’ve never known anything easy.
Kiesha doesn’t realize how lucky she is to have a family who gives a fuck.
“I have drama this period so you can hangout in one of the changing rooms backstage. No one uses them unless we have a costume fitting or a show. But if anyone asks, we’ll say you’re a cousin who came to visit this week or something.”
“Right. I wouldn’t want to cramp your style.” I shouldn’t be offended, but for some reason, I take the dig personally. Like she’s embarrassed to be seen with me. I’m not the best-looking guy in the club, but I’m damn sure not the ugliest.
Kiesha glances back at me once more, the golden flecks in her hazel eyes glittering like the embers of a fire that won’t easily be extinguished in the dim light of this dark and forgotten room.
I sit on the burnt orange colored couch that looks like it’s been here for three decades. I glance around the room at the mismatched props and musty smelling costumes that look like they’ve been here as long as the couch. I pull out my phone to doom scroll while waiting for the next hour to pass, biting my bottom lip in an attempt to resist lighting up a cigarette.
I didn’t even consider the fact that I’m not going to be able to smoke until I’m off school grounds.
My phone vibrates in my hand as I’m about to nod off from boredom alerting me to a slew of new text messages from Sabrina, her frustration and anger increasing with every unanswered question about where I am, who I’m with, and what I’m doing.
She knows I can’t tell her anything about what I’m doing. And even if I could, she won’t be understanding or forgiving.
I’m trying to work. Stop texting every five minutes. You’re distracting me.
I know the message is harsh, but it’s true. I can’t focus on her when I have to be on alert. When I have to concentrate on keeping Kiesha safe.
I can’t afford to be distracted by Sabrina’s petty arguments.
Not with my future in the club possibly at stake.
Chapter Two
I can’t believe this. I don’t need some scrawny prospect following me around my classes like a guard dog. My father doesn’t care about me or my sister. His choices since I was born have proven time and again how little he loves me. If he ever has, it would be news to me. I can’t even remember the last time I had contact with him.
He walked straight past me like a stranger the last time I crossed his path. He looked right through me. Inconsequential. That’s exactly what he is. I hate him. Sometimes I wish he would disappear forever. None of my friends understand what it has been like for me. I’ve always been in my sister’s shadow. She’s older and prettier. Looks like our mother and has her long legs. I was cursed with inheriting my father’s genes. I’m short with wide hips and thick thighs. But she actually has some good memories of our father. I have none. Not even bad ones, really. He’s never been present.
I stare at this goofball with thick brows, wondering how he got volunteered for my protection duty. He doesn’t look that strong. He’s tall and lanky, but he does have killer ink and nice brown eyes.
Not that I care. He could look like Hyunjin, one of my favorite K-Pop singers. I wouldn’t be interested. Not when I’ve been working overtime to get Jonesy Ripley to notice I’m alive. He’s the hottest senior and I’ve had a crush on him since he transferred to our school last year.
No one has been able to land him, and I’ve made it my personal mission to be asked to homecoming by him. I even talked Sam into nominating me for homecoming queen. Not that I expect to win against Lisa Nichols, the captain of the cheerleading team. The only reason she’s not on Jonesy’s arm is because she’s been dating Bobo Spradlin since freshman year and he’s a monster in size. Dude could squish pumpkins between his thighs. He’s been wrestling since he was a toddler.
This prospect had better not mess this up for me. I’ve been going to every game to cheer for Jonesy. Sitting by him and his meathead friends at lunch. Doing anything and everything short of throwing myself at him to catch his eye.
Of all the days to place me under club protection, my uncle just had to pick the day I’m hoping my number one crush will ask me out. That’s not going to happen with Jimmy stuck up my ass. I know it isn’t the prospect’s fault. I know how the hierarchy in the motorcycle club works. My sister got with Navarro when he was prospecting and now our mom is dating Prodigy, another Royal Bastard club member. I’ve grown up around the motorcycle club since my Uncle Link is a member.
I’m not new to any of this. Danger and threats have always been a part of our lives by association. I just never thought I would ever be a direct target, and by my sperm donor at that.
Jimmy follows me into the auditorium, and I hurry him to the changing rooms before my classmates or Mrs. Bledsoe lay eyes on him.
“Lock the door and don’t unlock it for anyone. Give me your phone number and I’ll text you when it’s safe to come out.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one protecting you? I can’t keep you safe from a locked room.”
“I didn’t ask you to be here.”
“I’m not happy about this situation either.”
“Don’t care. Let’s just make it through the day so we can both move on with our lives. He’s not going to show up in the middle of my class.”
“Right.” He grabs my phone and types his information in. He snorts as a message from Sam flashes across the screen.
“Don’t read my text.”
“Kind of hard not to.”
“Ugh. Just stay out of my business.”
He hands my device back. “What’s your number? I’ll save it under brat.”
