Serial Novel: The Biker's Wench, Chapter 30
This serial novel is posted in draft form every Tuesday and Friday.
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7| Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 |Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13| Ch. 14 |Ch. 15 |Ch. 16 |Ch. 17 |Ch. 18 |Ch. 19 |Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25| Ch. 26| Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 |Ch. 29
The Biker's Wench
Chapter 30
When he reached the main floor, Harley took a right just beyond the stairs and followed a narrow hall to the end where it opened into a large, dark parlor. Candles in antique wall sconces dimly lit the crowded room where the dinner party guests were mingling and enjoying small glasses of sherry and port. He chose a spot along the wall just inside the doorway and scanned the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of Monica's long, curly hair. Twice he thought he saw her, but the face didn't match the hair. Then he spotted Stephen Burns near a window across the room, and made his way through the crowd to stand beside his new father-in-law. It was all he could do not to immediately ask about Monica.
"Mr. Burns. I trust everything is going well this evening?"
The older man nodded thoughfully, taking a small sip of the dark amber liquid in his glass. "Well enough, well enough. I couldn't help but notice you disappeared - is everything okay?" The hint of disapproval made Harley bristle, but he worked to maintain a bored look.
"Just a family tiff," he said, glancing at faces walking past and wondering if Derek was still here. "I handled it. Speaking of family, did Monica come see you?"
He could see his words hit the intended mark as Burns blinked, the lines on his face hardening. Apparently he didn't care for being reminded that they were family now. That fact gave Harley a great deal of pleasure, and he was hard-pressed to stifle a laugh.
"She was here briefly," Burns replied. "Said you asked her to check on me, and that she had some things to do down at the saloon. She didn't look happy, son. I'd suggest you--"
Harley held up a hand, his gaze fixed on a figure walking toward the door. Betsy was right - Derek was here at the ranch. "Hold that thought," he told Burns. "There's something I need to go do." Without giving the man a chance to respond, he shouldered his way through the crowd and intercepted Derek just as he stepped into the hall.
"What the hell are you doing on my ranch, Wilson." The man grinned, his thin lips stretched too tight on the left against a scar that spanned his jawline. Harley felt a moment of satisfaction knowing that his baby sister had put that mark there.
"Just taking care of some unfinished business, Majors. Lucky thing I ran into Mr. Burns in Reno the other day. He told me all about this place, and how the man who runs it just married his daughter. If I hadn't heard your name, probably never would have found you." He nodded as though pleased with himself, thumbs tucked casually into the front pockets of his weathered jeans. Frowning thoughtfully, he cocked his head to the side. "So how is your sister these days, Majors? Still breaking hearts and heads?"
Ignoring his better judgement, Harly swung back and sent his fist into Derek's face, pain exploding through his hand and spidering up his arm. Caught completely off guard, the other man hit the wall hard, his head bouncing off the dark brocade fabric before he sprawled on the floor between two antique chairs.
Harley opened his fist, wincing as he flexed his fingers to make sure nothing was broken. The din from the crowd had grown quieter, and he glanced over at the crowd looking on in horror. Burns stepped out of the mass and came to stand beside Harley, looking thoughtfully down at Derek's bloodied visage.
"Well son, looks like you've met Mr. Wilson. And from what I see, it's probably a good thing he was just leaving."
Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7| Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 |Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13| Ch. 14 |Ch. 15 |Ch. 16 |Ch. 17 |Ch. 18 |Ch. 19 |Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25| Ch. 26| Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 |Ch. 29
The Biker's Wench
Chapter 30
When he reached the main floor, Harley took a right just beyond the stairs and followed a narrow hall to the end where it opened into a large, dark parlor. Candles in antique wall sconces dimly lit the crowded room where the dinner party guests were mingling and enjoying small glasses of sherry and port. He chose a spot along the wall just inside the doorway and scanned the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of Monica's long, curly hair. Twice he thought he saw her, but the face didn't match the hair. Then he spotted Stephen Burns near a window across the room, and made his way through the crowd to stand beside his new father-in-law. It was all he could do not to immediately ask about Monica.
"Mr. Burns. I trust everything is going well this evening?"
The older man nodded thoughfully, taking a small sip of the dark amber liquid in his glass. "Well enough, well enough. I couldn't help but notice you disappeared - is everything okay?" The hint of disapproval made Harley bristle, but he worked to maintain a bored look.
"Just a family tiff," he said, glancing at faces walking past and wondering if Derek was still here. "I handled it. Speaking of family, did Monica come see you?"
He could see his words hit the intended mark as Burns blinked, the lines on his face hardening. Apparently he didn't care for being reminded that they were family now. That fact gave Harley a great deal of pleasure, and he was hard-pressed to stifle a laugh.
"She was here briefly," Burns replied. "Said you asked her to check on me, and that she had some things to do down at the saloon. She didn't look happy, son. I'd suggest you--"
Harley held up a hand, his gaze fixed on a figure walking toward the door. Betsy was right - Derek was here at the ranch. "Hold that thought," he told Burns. "There's something I need to go do." Without giving the man a chance to respond, he shouldered his way through the crowd and intercepted Derek just as he stepped into the hall.
"What the hell are you doing on my ranch, Wilson." The man grinned, his thin lips stretched too tight on the left against a scar that spanned his jawline. Harley felt a moment of satisfaction knowing that his baby sister had put that mark there.
"Just taking care of some unfinished business, Majors. Lucky thing I ran into Mr. Burns in Reno the other day. He told me all about this place, and how the man who runs it just married his daughter. If I hadn't heard your name, probably never would have found you." He nodded as though pleased with himself, thumbs tucked casually into the front pockets of his weathered jeans. Frowning thoughtfully, he cocked his head to the side. "So how is your sister these days, Majors? Still breaking hearts and heads?"
Ignoring his better judgement, Harly swung back and sent his fist into Derek's face, pain exploding through his hand and spidering up his arm. Caught completely off guard, the other man hit the wall hard, his head bouncing off the dark brocade fabric before he sprawled on the floor between two antique chairs.
Harley opened his fist, wincing as he flexed his fingers to make sure nothing was broken. The din from the crowd had grown quieter, and he glanced over at the crowd looking on in horror. Burns stepped out of the mass and came to stand beside Harley, looking thoughtfully down at Derek's bloodied visage.
"Well son, looks like you've met Mr. Wilson. And from what I see, it's probably a good thing he was just leaving."
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