Sons of Trouble: A Biker Erotic Romance by Tamara Knowles

 
    SONS OF TROUBLE
     
    It was a sunny  Friday  morning, the kind of day when most people liked to sit outside in the summer weather and enjoy a late breakfast in the town's diner. As the owner of the diner, Bianca dreaded Fridays and Saturdays. The Merrick boys would be around soon, as they were every week. If she was lucky, they'd merely scare away her other customers so they could have the place to themselves. Some inconsiderate behavior and rude remarks would have to be endured for a couple of hours, but afterwards they'd leave. If they were feeling particularly rowdy or if another customer made the mistake of looking at them the wrong way, that person – or people – would get an ugly beating from the entire gang and her precious diner would get smashed…again.
     
    A faint roar could be heard, as a 4x4 engine approached. The sound was joined by the whooping of its passengers, as the vehicle pulled up to the diner. Bianca knew they'd show up eventually, but her heart sank all the same. The Merrick boys disembarked from the 4x4 and swaggered into the diner. They liked to think of themselves as a club and often identified themselves as such; but, the Merrick boys were just a glorified gang of hooligans. Chad Merrick was the leader and the namesake of the informal group. His pack of boisterous friends, who were really just hanger-ons, identifying themselves as the Merrick boys or the Merrick crew .
     
    The young thugs swaggered in, as if they owned the place. They rudely pushed aside a few hapless patrons and appropriated a table by the window. They talked and laughed amongst themselves without bothering to look at the menus or to keep their voices down. The infrequent customers looked as if they wanted to ask the Merrick boys to be quiet, whereas the regulars did the smart thing and kept their heads down. They knew that they should devour their breakfasts and escape before the Merrick boys got bored and decided to break something.
     
    Plucking up her courage, Bianca went over to their table with a tray clutched tightly in both hands. Without a word, she put the tray down and poured them each a cup of coffee. She hoped they’d just ignore her this time.
     
    “Got any booze, sweetheart?” demanded one of the Merrick boys with a grin.
     
    “This is a diner, not a bar,” Bianca replied. Explaining the difference was pointless to these knuckleheads. They came by to show that they were in charge, never for food or drink.
     
    “Even so, all you ever have to drink is tea or watery coffee,” said another Merrick, rudely. “It’s not even an Irish coffee.”
     
    Most people would point out that if you didn’t like the food or drink, you didn’t have to eat there. The last time a customer made this observation to the Merrick boys, they’d beaten the person and smashed a window. Bianca knew better than to kick them out. For one thing, they’d probably break something out of spite on their way out. For another, in spite of their obnoxious behavior, they never failed to pay off their tab. Even if she could kick them out and get them to stay away, Bianca couldn’t afford to turn away paying customers.
     
    “Would you boys like anything to eat with your coffee?” she asked them.
     
    “No fucking way, the food in this place made me puke last time,” said the leader, Chad Merrick. He laughed and downed his cup of coffee.
     
    “That’s cos’ you drank too much whisky, Chad,” replied one of his friends.
     
    “Who gives a fuck what it was I drank that night?” Chad shot back. “We don’t want any of your crappy food, you skank, get outta here.”
     
    Swallowing her pride, as she was forced to do every time, Bianca gathered up the tray and hurried behind the counter. She tried not to wonder which would be worse: a drunken Merrick or an over-caffeinated Merrick. Neither of those possibilities sounded very endearing.
     
    The Merrick boys stayed for over an hour, engaging in a loud conversation without