Dante's Way Read online

  Dante’s Way

  Bikers & Bars Book One

  Marie Rochelle

  Published by Phaze Books

  By Marie Rochelle

  Alpha Male Incorporated: Under Your Protection

  Alpha Male Incorporated: Access Granted

  A Taste of Love: Richard

  Closer to You: Lee

  My Deepest Love: Zack

  More Than Friends: Brad

  Caught

  Caught 2: Ajana’s Return

  Desire

  All the Fixin’

  Crossing the Railroad

  A Rancher’s Promise

  The Men of CCD: Slow Seduction

  The Men of CCD: Loving True

  The Men of CCD: Help Wanted

  Lucky Charms

  Hunks: Too Hot to Touch

  Hunks: Opposite Attraction

  Hunks: Pulled Over

  Me & Mrs. Jones

  Taken by Storm

  Tempting Turner

  Roped Into You

  So Much Better

  Bikers & Bars: Dante’s Way

  This is an explicit and erotic novel

  intended for the enjoyment

  of adult readers. Please keep

  out of the hands of children.

  www.Phaze.com

  Bikers & Bars: Dante’s Way

  Copyright © 2013 by Marie Rochelle

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Edited by Judy Bagshaw

  Cover Art © 2013 by Niki Browning

  First Edition May 2013

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-60659-740-8

  Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-60659-741-5

  Published by Mundania Press

  An imprint of Celeritas Unlimited LLC

  6457 Glenway Ave., #109

  Cincinnati, OH 45211

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Celeritas Unlimited LLC, 6457 Glenway Avenue, #109, Cincinnati, Ohio 45211, [email protected].

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Legal File Usage -- Your Rights

  Payment of the download fee for this book grants the purchaser the right to download and read this file, and to maintain private backup copies of the file for the purchaser’s personal use only.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this or any copyrighted work is illegal. Authors are paid on a per-purchase basis. Any use of this file beyond the rights stated above constitutes theft of the author’s earnings. File sharing is an international crime, prosecuted by the United States Department of Justice Division of Cyber Crimes, in partnership with Interpol. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by seizure of computers, up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 per reported instance. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.

  Production by Celeritas Unlimited LLC

  Printed in the United States of America

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Dedication

  To my Aunt Catherine:

  Thank you for giving me so many

  wonderful childhood memories.

  Chapter One

  The freezing rain poured down on the rooftop as the small figure huddled inside the doorway of the abandoned building. The wetness from the weather soaked through the torn black hoodie and once white t-shirt underneath. The person worked very hard to become completely invisible from anyone who might be lurking in the shadows searching for an easy mark tonight.

  The unbelievable scent of hot food drifted from the bar across the street making the person take a cautious step from underneath the less than protective sanctuary into the alleyway. Easing further away from the archway, the figure slid along the side of the brick wall silently praying no one would make a sudden move out of nowhere and jump them.

  Up till now; the gnawing hunger pains had been blocked out by filling up on water; however, tonight the spasms were just too mind-numbingly great. Absolutely nothing was more important than finding something to eat.

  The longing late last night to finally consume a warm meal almost made the idea of going to Theresa for help a very easy decision, but that wouldn’t be a good choice on her part....not even for the basic comforts most individuals took for granted every day.

  However, tonight was an entirely different story. Now, the driving necessity to get something to eat was pushing them to make certain choices that they normally wouldn’t think about ever doing.

  This had to work or they didn’t know what they were going to do for food. Pausing at the curb, a pair of coffee-colored eyes glanced both ways before the person darted across, hiding behind a large green dumpster located only about ten feet from the bar’s back door.

  Hopefully, it was time for someone to leave. Sneaking inside the building would then be a lot easier. Usually breaking and entering wasn’t the first thought that came to mind, but tonight caused for drastic measures.

  Surely, there had to be some leftovers stored away inside somewhere; in addition, maybe they could sleep here instead of on the cold, wet ground.

  Most of the time a few kind-hearted strangers were nice enough to either give a few dollars here and there or offer a free meal, unfortunately that sort of compassion hadn’t been given to them in over three weeks.

  People didn’t understand that begging for food was very humiliating, but when it felt like hunger pains were ripping your stomach apart your pride took a flying leap to get a full belly.

  The sudden sound of the bar’s door opening and then closing caught the person off guard. Taking a step closer, a nervous pair of eyes peeked around the edge of the dumpster.

  Frightened brown eyes widened at the sight of a tall, handsome white man with a long black ponytail as he ran through the pouring rain over to a huge black and orange motorcycle.

  Yet he didn’t hold their attention for long because the person’s gaze zoomed in on the small brown paper bag in his left hand. Just the thought of devouring what was hidden in it, made their mouth salivate. Drool slid down the corner of their lip.

  Would he willingly share some of his food?

  The sudden thought of a fulfilling feast after days of hunger drove the person to swallow down their normally gripping fear. Cautiously, they took a step closer toward the stranger. Just as they were almost there another male voice sounded, stopping them from taking another step.

  “Hey Dante, could you help me move this last table back to the other side of the room before you take off for the night,” the second man asked from the opened doorway. “I thought I’d be able to move it by myself, but it’s too damn heavy.”

  “Sure, Griffin, I’ll help move it,” Dante said, placing the bag of food inside the black leather saddlebag on his motorcycle. “I’m just glad you caught me before I rode off.”

  Standing still as a statue so neither one of the men would glance over at the dumpster; the figure let the rain continue to soak through the already drenched clothing, anxiously waiting for the opportunity to steal the hot food off the motorcycle and hopefully have a clean getaway.

>   Minutes crawled by at a snail’s pace as Dante secured the straps on the bag before he jogged through the bucketing rain back inside the building, and slammed the door behind him.

  Not wasting one second, the person hurried over to the motorcycle and started working on getting some food to eat.

  Small fingers shook out of fear as they feverishly undid the tightly secured straps keeping the black leather bag closed. The need for nourishment tonight was too intense so not getting this food wasn’t an option.

  Hands continued pulling and tugging at the three leather straps until they finally began to loosen and finally gave away. A burst of excitement flew from the person’s lips as the satchel opened and it hit the seat of the motorcycle. A tiny cold, wet hand reached inside and grabbed out the paper sack as the delicious aroma of nourishment drifted up towards their face.

  Yes! Yes! Yes!

  Joy bubbled through the small figure’s body at lastly having real food...not leftover food stolen off customers’ plates outside a restaurant or day old food taken out of the trashcan behind the grocery store a few blocks from here, but a recently prepared meal that no one else’s mouth had ever touched.

  However, the person’s excitement was cut short as the unexpected noise of metal scraping echoed loudly over the beating rain through the empty alley. Spinning away from the motorcycle, the figure clutched the bag tightly against their chest and took off running towards the opposite end of the alley back towards the street.

  “What in the hell are you doing?” an irate, deep masculine voice hollered. “Get your ass back here; I’m tired of getting stuff stolen off my bike.”

  Not even bothering to turn around, the individual kept making tracks as their worn tennis shoes pounded across the wet pavement. However, the loud sound of the heavier feet gaining ground spurred them into running even faster in hopes of getting away. But the man was gaining ground fast with his longer legs.

  “I told you to stop,” the man hollered right before wrapping his fingers around a thin arm. The unexpected movement caused the bag of food to slip from the person’s hands falling into a huge puddle of water.

  “Stop, let go of me,” the figure screamed, trying to break the unrelenting hold. “I won’t steal from you again. I swear I won’t. Just let me go. Please don’t call the cops.”

  “There is no way in hell I’m letting you go. This is the third time this week someone has stolen something off my bike. I’m fed up with it. I’m going to call the police and there isn’t a thing you can do to change my mind.”

  Fear shot through the slender body at the mere thought of spending a night at the police station. The cops were beginning to crack down hard on the homeless people around the area so going there was out of the question.

  “Can’t you let me go? Please, I swear to you. I won’t steal from you again. I only wanted something to eat,” the person begged, softly.

  “Save it,” he snapped, angrily. “I’m usually a pretty decent guy, but I’ve gotten pushed too far lately and everyone has their breaking point. Unfortunately, you are the one who made me reach mine tonight.”

  Knowing there was no talking to the man, the person silently admitted defeat as the guy spun them back around going back towards the bar. Once they got there, he didn’t waste a minute getting them inside.

  “Dante, what in the hell is going on,” the guy from earlier asked as soon as they walked inside. “Who is this?”

  Looking down quickly at the ground caused the hoodie to slide down further hiding the person’s face from the other man It wouldn’t do any good to make any kind of eye contact with either man since they probably wouldn’t listen to any sort of reason.

  “Griffin, this is the little punk who’s been stealing things off my bike. I actually caught him in the act when I went back outside to leave. I’m going to call the cops and have his butt tossed in jail,” Dante replied, clearly pissed.

  “Are you sure? This kid looks pretty harmless to me. Can’t you just give him a stern warning and let him go. Maybe all he needs is a little fear put into him not to come back to the bar.”

  “No, I’m tired with looking the other way when it comes to my property. Someone needs to show him there are consequences for his actions and tonight is the time for it to happen.”

  Panic took over the person’s body. God! I can’t go to jail. I won’t make it there. I need to find a way out of this, the person thought as Dante led them over to a metal chair across the room.

  “Sit your butt down here and don’t you dare get up. You may not like what happens if you do,” Dante warned and then he stormed off.

  Why didn’t I stay within the shelter of the alleyway?

  Nodding, the person fell down into the seat pulling the sleeves of the wet hoodie over cold hands. Tonight was turning out worse than any other night had in the past two months. Anything was better than the situation going on right now.

  “Dante, come on man. We both know from the looks of the kid, he’s been living on the street for a while now. How is locking him up going to solve anything?” Griffin asked him. “I seriously doubt this boy is the one who has been stealing parts off your bike. Did you catch him with any parts in his hands?”

  “No, I didn’t catch him this time with any parts from my motorcycle,” Dante snapped, angrily. “He was running away with my bag of food, but it still doesn’t mean it can’t be him. Why can’t you see this my way? You know I usually let things slide, but when it comes to my most prized possession I can’t do it.”

  I have to get out of here! Glancing back at the door, a pair of dark brown eyes widened noticing it was slightly ajar. Yes...yes...yes...They could make a run for it

  However, Dante and Griffin were pretty close to it. Without a doubt, time was of the essence for them to get up out of this chair and through the backdoor before either one of them caught on. This might be the only chance that presented itself tonight before Dante went through with his warning.

  The person eased their body to the very edge of the cold, metal chair and then took a deep breath before getting ready to make a run for it. Cautious eyes slowly darted from one man to the other one as they continued arguing over the motorcycle incident.

  Okay it was now or never. Jumping up from the chair, it crashed loudly to the floor as the person raced for the cracked back door.

  “Stop,” Dante’s angry voice shouted. “I wouldn't think about running out that door, if I were you.”

  The person’s stained tennis shoes were inches from the threshold of freedom when a strong hand grabbed the back of the hoodie pulling it down and causing the individual’s thick black hair to tumble free. “What the fuck!” Dante cursed, surprised as he took a step back. “You’re a damn girl.”

  Amara Langston’s startled eyes glanced back into a pair of stunned gray-green ones before she dashed out of the doorway and down the alley praying the tall, gorgeous pissed off man didn’t follow behind her for a second time that night. She was too exhausted and too famished to go another round with him.

  Chapter Two

  Amara’s heart pounded in her chest like the beat of a drum as she distanced herself from the club and Dante. After running through dirty alleyway after alleyway, she still didn’t feel safe enough to stop trying to get away from him and his obvious anger towards her. Of course, the first time she tried to steal something her bad judgment would pit her against a guy who was built like a NFL football player.

  God, how stupid could she be?

  Ducking around the corner of the closed cleaners, Amara kept running until she came to her usual hiding place behind a pile of boxes stacked there by the owner. She crawled into the dirty sleeping bag she had found left in the park four months ago.

  She dragged several semi-damp boxes around her body placing herself in her own little cocoon. So far, she’d been able to keep this spot a secret from everyone else because a majority of the other homeless people was scared shitless of the owner, Mr. Lee. He was in his late sixties, abo
ut five feet, seven inches tall with salt and pepper hair and a thin mustache.

  Most of them believed he would sneak back here and do something horrible to them. Which wasn’t true at all, but she wouldn’t tell them any different. However, he did have one look that literally could stop a person in their tracks.

  Amara knew an absolutely different man, and how deep down, past all of the evil stares and harsh words, hid a man with a heart of gold.

  She’d sensed something was different about Mr. Lee when she first noticed him watching her from his cleaners’ window as she panhandled on the corner near his business.

  Two weeks had passed by before he finally came up to her with a sandwich and a drink. Usually she wasn’t interested in taking handouts from men because they usually wanted something sexual from her in return. However, she had been too hungry that day to care about what favors Mr. Lee might demand from her later.

  She had snatched the fast food bag from him and practically swallowed down the sandwich whole. She would never forget the heartbroken look that had passed across his face before he walked away.

  Little by little, Mr. Lee earned her trust by giving her a sandwich here or there; sometimes he would even toss money into her bag on the sidewalk. One day, he even gave her a bag full of clothes, so she would have something different to wear instead of the same dirty, old outfit she’d been wearing for a while.

  Taking several slow deep breaths, she tried to get her racing heart back down to normal. Amara allowed her mind to revisit the terrifying incident in the alleyway that occurred with Dante. She’d never in her entire life felt such terror as when his fingers wrapped around her arm.

  She felt his anger literally coursing through his entire frame when he dragged her back to the bar. Dante hadn’t had a clue she wasn’t a guy and honestly Amara didn’t think he would have cared either way.