When the Levee Breaks // Led Zeppelin

Grinder - 27 years earlier

The smell is what pulled me over. It felt like being yanked in a direction I hadn't planned on going, but I went anyway. The hole-in-the-wall taco joint in the middle of a dirt-poor section of the town we were passing through can't be a good idea. But the smell of fresh carne, seasoned and crisp, yeah that's what took over.

So, my nose led my motorcycle to the alley behind the joint. I parked it, locked it up because who knew what kind of desperate shit head might be tempted to steal it while I was stuffing my face. I ordered two street specials, plunked down my change and chowed on the best meal I'd had in weeks. Months probably. This life on the road is shit but I'm a loyal son of a bitch so I follow Duke wherever he takes me.

Currently, it's taken me to this shitty neighborhood, but we'll be on our way in a matter of hours. Anything more than twenty-four hours is pushing our luck and we've been here for twice that already. Word gets around when the Bitter Reapers ride through a town. And the word is usually, get the fuck out. That word will be here any second now, so I chomp on the tacos and head back to my bike. Duke is waiting for me at the bar where we've been crashing, with no pleasure to the owner. Our boys have practically trashed the place but what can you expect from a brood of vipers. I'm surrounded by insanity. Some days I even wonder about my own.

I rue the day I let Duke talk me into joining his old man's motor-cycle club. Travel, see the country, get away—that's what he'd said. My buddy made good on that promise for about six months. Then his old man passed, had a heart attack while riding down the highway, and Duke was made lead. I became his second. Now I'm trapped in the life. It hasn't been that long and I'm already sick of it at nineteen. I'm ready to stop, to settle in one place for a while, something I've always wanted, but Duke isn't on that page yet so here we are.

I start to grab my gear to head back to the rest of the club when the back door of the taco place opens, and a slight twig of a girl walks out. She's carrying two of the fullest trash bags I've ever seen like a champ. The trash has to weigh more than she does. The girl doesn't notice me until she's dumped the bags and turned back to go in. The usual greeting I receive when someone looks at me is one of horror and fear, which is what I expect from someone as slight as her next to my six foot four frame and dark beard. Add a black leather biker vest and fifteen visible tats, you've got a recipe for someone's nightmare in a dark alley come true.

But this girl just looks me in the eye and glares.

I'm towering over her, a smirk in place where there shouldn't be any expression at all toward this girl that looks to be about sixteen. Although, her eyes have a depth, a soul that no sixteen-year-old should possess. Maybe she's older than she looks.

"No loitering," the girl says, arms crossed and eyes like daggers for me.

I put my hands up in surrender. "I'm just leaving. Looks like you had a heavy load." I gesture to the dumpster.

The girl gives it a side glance and shrugs. "What's it to you, stranger. Get on your way."

"Whoa. Harsh much? I was just eating lunch not robbing the place."

The girl lets her eyes take a stroll down my body and back up. I've taken an open stance, trying to look less intimidating than usual. I don't think I'd intimidate this chick regardless.

"Do you normally rob places?"

My jaw drops because her question was unexpected. Bold. And I kind of like it.

"What's your name?" I say instead.

The girl is back to glaring. Dark brown eyes are framed by luscious black hair falling around her shoulders in gentle curls. Her lips are deep red, full even though her mouth is pressed in a tight line. I take a second to check out her uniform, a loose black t shirt and skin-tight jeans. She's got curves, and lots of them, but she's probably too young. I keep telling myself that, but half of my brain tells me that nineteen and sixteen aren't that far apart.

Before she answers me, the rumble of another Harley fills the alleyway. I recognize it before I even turn around to look. Duke has found me.

"Grinder, been looking all over town for you." His voice takes the place of the motor as soon as he cuts it.

"Ya found me, genius." I grind my teeth at the intrusion, the reason for my nickname, and turn to face my friend, the leader of the club. My first in command. We defer to him, no matter what.

"Looks like you found someone else," Duke says, now standing next to me and giving eyes to the girl whose name I still don't know. "Aren't you smoking."

Fuck me. He's not subtle at all. "She's a kid, Duke."

"So are we, Grind. Kids at heart." He steps forward and reaches out a hand to the girl. For him, she smiles. She takes his hand and lingers in his hold.

"I'm Maria," She tells him what she wouldn't tell me. I can't help but wonder if it's out of spite, or to just piss me off, because what the hell does Beau "Duke" Henderson have that I don't. I glance over to him and eye his cut, the black leather vest that matches mine except for one detail. He's got the crown emblem on his. Duke, who was just Beau to me until we took up with the Reapers, exudes power. Once his old man was gone, something in him changed. He became the MC poster boy, leading this gnarly pack of wild men from town to town.

The fact that he's set his eyes on Maria is a glaring reality. Even though I saw her first. But he's the Duke, so I back off.

"See you back at Mo's," I say as I hop on my bike. Duke waves me off but he's still only got eyes for her, so he doesn't follow behind me.

I may be riding off into the sunset, but there will be no happily ever after for me. Duke just got the girl.

If only I knew how that would change everything between us.

Thank you so much for jumping into Grinder and Julia's story! Updates should begin in a couple of weeks, so add this to your library, your reading list, share it with a friend who'd love to read a romance with sweet heat and get ready for the ride!

If you've read inevitable, you remember Grinder's gruff biker personality. You may even remember his woman, Julia, being mentioned. This chapter was a little peek into what happened when Grinder and Beau (Brax's dad) first meet Maria 27 years earlier. She will pop up here as well a few times.

And if you're wondering why I'd write Grinder's story about his dirty boots... he isn't exactly the guy Brax makes him out to be:

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This song is so Grinder! I was listening to it while working out and had to run to add it to his playlist.

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