Disclaimer: Twilight and all characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Also, Hells Angels is a trademarked name that I am not profiting off of. I use it with the upmost respect. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warning: This story has strong language and some lemons *wink*. If those things offend you, this story ain't for you.

"If you're going to ride something, make it a Fat Boy."

BPOV

"Oh, my God. Christmas has come early, and Santa must have thought I was a very good girl," Angela purred.

I looked to the door to see who caught Angela's eye, and I had to admit she had good taste. I smiled at my friend and said, "I don't think you're her type."

The woman had to have been a model. The way she owned the room was beyond impressive. She was wearing skin-tight, black motorcycle pants and a white tank top that was so thin, you could see the lacy purple and black bra she wore beneath. It was almost like she wanted her already impressive rack to not only be noticed, but remembered as well.

I looked out of the bar's only window, into the parking lot, and my suspicions were correct. She was a rider. And she didn't just ride any bike; Life-size Barbie had herself a Harley.

Angela pouted and went to clean tables but not before mumbling, "You never know."

I rounded the bar and approached the blonde Amazon who somehow stumbled into Forks' craptastic dive bar, appropriately named, The Muddy Dog. I reached beneath the bar to retrieve a napkin and asked, "Can I get you something to drink?"

She looked at me as if I appeared out of nowhere, shook her head to clear it, and said, "No, I'm good. If it's alright with you, I'll just take the seat. I'm waiting on some friends."

She didn't so much as answer me as she did my rack, but who was I to complain? I was flattered that she was checking out my goods.

I nodded my head and looked over to the back of the bar. Just as I expected, the wolves were about to descend. The guys were looking at the blonde like she was a piece of meat, and she looked too preoccupied to deflect pick-up lines from the Barney Fifes of Forks.

I set a glass of Coke on her napkin and said, "I'm going to do you a favor, and in turn it's going to do me a favor." She arched her eyebrow in intrigue, so I went on. "All of your drinks tonight are on the house."

"And this will help you how?"

"It will save us both a headache from watching those morons trying to get you loaded," I said with a nod to the back.

When she looked back at the guys, several chests puffed out, poses were struck, and a couple of guts were even sucked in. "God, who are those losers?"

"They are Forks' Finest and a few of their friends," I answered while pouring a bowl of green olives to snack on and another bowl of maraschino cherries for Blondie's Coke.

"Are you shitting me? I picked a cop bar?" She asked in disgust. Her disappointment didn't last long when she saw the bowl of cherries. "Shouldn't they be working or something?"

I snorted and said, "Riiiight, because Forks is a hot-bed of criminal activity."

"I can't believe I picked a bar full of asshole cops," she said while sucking on a cherry.

"In all fairness, there aren't a lot of bars in Forks, and although he's not here, my dad is one of them."

Her eyes widened and she said, "Shit, I'm sorry."

I laughed and shook my head. "No, no you're right. He is an asshole."

She cocked her head to the side and said, "I'm Rose."

"Hello, Rose. Name's Bella," I said and extended my hand for a shake. "Nice ride," I said, nodding out to the parking lot.

"Thank you, and thanks for not assuming it's my boyfriend's," Rose said, rolling her eyes.

"Never thought I'd see Fat Boy here," I murmered.

"I always say, if you're gonna ride something, make it a Fat Boy." I heard Angela whimper at Rose's words as she cleaned a nearby table that was already spotless. "You know Harleys?" Rose asked with a smile, completely clueless of the devastated lesbian behind her.

"Not really well. I used to ride a dirt bike, but, like everyone, I wanted an upgrade. Something for street riding. I had a friend who promised to get me Softail Deluxe when I graduated college," I finished softly.

She looked away when my eyes started to water up and turned to look out the window. "Yeah, I thought about getting one of those, but it was too low to the ground."

"Hello there, beautiful." We both looked as Officer Jared Bronson leaned against the bar, next to Rose, and said, "Can I get you a drink?"

"She already has a drink," I said.

"Bella, shut the hell up. Nobody's talking to you," he said.

"I'm talking to her, and no, you can't buy me a drink. My husband wouldn't be too happy to see you hanging around," Rose said with a dismissive flick of the wrist. "So, get lost."

As Jared left with his tail between his legs, Rose said, "So I take it this friend of yours is no longer with us."

"Yeah, he… he was murdered five years ago," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Fuck! That's horrible," she said, covering her mouth. "I thought he took a spill or something. I'm sorry; I should have just left it alone."

"No, you couldn't have known."

"Did they catch who did it?"

I looked to the back of the bar and said softly, "No, no they didn't."

I didn't want to think about Jake, so to change the subject, I decided to pay her a compliment. It was my go-to when I found myself in awkward situations.

"That's a nice ring," I said with a nod to her hand.

That moron Jared had seen the damn ring; it was hard to miss. Even though it wasn't the traditional diamond, it was still on her left ring finger. Instead of ice, it was a pink, porcelain rose mounted on a silver base.

She looked down at her hand, fingered her ring while smiling. "It's the ring my husband gave me when he proposed. We were just out of high school, and it was all he could afford at the time. He's offered to replace it with a diamond, but I won't let him. I did, however, let him remount it on a platinum band. The first one rusted and was starting to leave a ring around my finger. We've been married for nine years, now."

I smiled and said, "Is that who you're meeting?"

"Yeah, him and a couple of other friends. We were just supposed to pass through, but one of our friends crashed his bike."

"Oh no," I gasped. "I hope he's alright."

"Yeah, me too. The doctors at the hospital want to keep him overnight for observation, so we'll be here for a few days."

"I'm sure he'll—"

"Bella!"

I snapped my head in the direction of Angela's voice and noticed the evening crowd had arrived. She was swamped, trying to not only cover the tables but also tend to the people who snuck their way up to the bar, unnoticed by me.

"Sorry Rose, but duty calls," I said apologetically before heading to the other end of the bar. Luckily I knew the customers, so I was able to get what they usually ordered without them having to tell me.

"Hey, Bella, if you're not too busy tonight, I want to introduce you to my friends when they get here," Rose called out.

I smiled and nodded while setting a pint of Bud Light in front of Mike Newton. Ever since he married Jessica Stanley, he'd spent the majority of his nights at the bar. Hopefully he wouldn't get too drunk tonight. He had trouble keeping his hands to himself whenever he had too much to drink. Most of the time, I could cut him off before he got to that point.

I sighed, hoping it would be one of those nights.

=\\= ADC =/=

Things picked up as the night went on. Charlie's boys went and were replaced with another handful of cops. There were only eight officers in Forks, but I only liked a couple of them. The rest were a bunch of ignorant sons of bitches.

Rose's assessment was right.

I was wiping up the piss water that Mike had spilled, when I saw a large man walk into The Muddy Dog. When he slung an arm around Rose, I was relieved she smiled at him. It meant I wouldn't have to figure out how to kick out the behemoth. Seriously, the guy was huge.

I should have known he was Rose's husband. His frayed jeans, worn leather jacket, shitkickers, black bandana, and scruffy look screamed biker.

Rose signaled me over to meet him. "Bella, this is my husband, Emmett. Emmett, this is Bella," she announced with a smile.

Emmett surprised me by quickly leaning over the bar and placing a smooching kiss on my cheek. The big jackass even had the nerve to laugh when I squeaked like a goddamn mouse. Usually the bar's height prevented people from being able to get to me, so it was a little startling when he squished that false sense of security.

After putting a safe distance between us, I gave him a tentative smile. Now that I was closer, I saw he had pretty blue eyes and a set of dimples hidden beneath the whiskers. He also had some ink on his inner left forearm. It was Rose's name in beautiful scroll work that looped around his wrist and ended on his left ring finger.

"Thanks for keeping my Rosie entertained and her mind off of the sad shit we're dealing with," he said, pulling my attention away from his tattoo.

While thanking me, Emmett gave me the head-to-toe, but instead of the men who leer at me on a daily basis, I wasn't skeeved out by his gaze. It was almost like he was cataloging me. He then turned to his wife and said, "Baby, don't you have a top like that in blue?"

She threw back her head in a peal of laughter. "I was thinking that too. Only I think Bella pulls it off better."

Rose asked about her friend, and I was relieved to be called away. I didn't want to intrude on their personal conversation.

=\\= ADC =/=

I grumbled while cleaning yet another spill caused by Mike. By then I was sure he was doing it on purpose just so he could oogle the girls. I tried not to curse Angela while mopping up the mess. On most nights I would let Mike's glasses collect on the bar. That way I could keep track of his beer intake. However, Angela, being the gem that she is, took all of his glasses and cleaned off the bar in front of the louse.

After cleaning the mess, I took a quick survey of the bar to make sure all of the customers were happy. When my eyes reached Rose and Emmett, I noticed a friend had joined them.

He was gorgeous.

Scruff on his strong jaw line, clothes similar to Emmett's, and a tall, lean physique had my girlie bits quivering. When the fuck did my body learn to have a Harlequin romance response to any man? I bit back a groan when he took off his brown leather jacket. He had windblown, auburn hair and rippling muscles in his arms. I would go home and throw away every smutty book I owned if I kept on using clichés to describe the god before me.

I had to lift my jaw off the floor and discreetly check for drool. He had a sexy smirk that told me he knew the effect he had on the opposite sex. When he walked into the place, he owned it. Bastard.

I liked Rose, but I wanted to steer clear of the panty dropper. So, I went back to pouring pitchers of beer for a table of regulars. After delivering them, I turned to make my way back to the bar, but someone body checked me. It caused me to collide into the bar ledge, and I let out a painful cry. Looking up, I wasn't surprised to see the pitch-black eyes of Officer Paul Kwoli.

"Maybe you should be more careful, Bella," he spat.

"Maybe you should try shoving around somebody your own size," Emmett said.

Somewhere between Paul colliding with me and me colliding with the bar, Emmett had made his way over, and I noticed both his sexy friend and Rose were trying to hold him back. Unfortunately, Paul had friends too. The other officers in the bar and a few of their friends stood to back him up.

I placed myself between the cop and the biker and said, "It's okay, Emmett. I'm sure it was an accident."

Paul shot Emmett a glare then turned to me. "I thought I made it clear, you're not welcomed here."

"Paul, if you don't like seeing me, I suggest you find a new bar. Until then, I hope you enjoy your drinks here at The Muddy Dog."

I walked away with a satisfied smile when he looked at the beer on tap with a flash of panic in his beady eyes. I was grateful Sam was there when I heard him say, "Come on, Paul. Let's shoot some pool."

I worked through the next hour, but the whole time I had the feeling of being watched. I looked toward the back, expecting to see Paul glaring at me… again. Except it wasn't Paul. He was losing to Sam in a game of pool, I happily noticed.

I quickly scanned the room, looking for the pair of eyes I felt on me. I found them, and fuck me, they belonged to Rose's gorgeous friend. He gave me a sexy, crooked smile, and I couldn't help but smile back. I quickly remembered my resolve to not be another drooling female and went back to work.

=\\= ADC =/=

There was a lull from the unusually busy night around eleven, and Rose took the opportunity to call me over. I took a deep breath and started to make my way to the end of the bar, but rowdy calls from the men signaled my dad's arrival.

"CHARLIE!"

It was like that goddamn show Cheers; everybody knew his name.

I gave Rose an apologetic smile then turned to fetch a Vitamin R for Charlie. When I walked to his table, I noticed his face was an unhealthy shade of red. I sighed and waited for him to blow his gasket, hoping he wouldn't cause a scene.

"What in the hell are you wearing, Bells?" he hissed.

I looked down at my snug brown leather pants and the soft pink corset top I had on. There was no way I was would tell him that my tips were always bigger on nights when I showed more skin, and that my biggest tippers actually worked for him. I was saving up to get out of that hellhole, and if flashing a little cleavage meant I could leave sooner, then I'd wear the tightest tops and lowest slung pants I could find.

"I'm twenty-three, Charlie. Besides, I thought we had an agreement. You don't talk about my clothes, and I don't talk about you turning a blind eye to all your friends who drive home drunk," I shot back.

Charlie looked around before saying, "We'll talk about this when you get home."

I went back behind the bar to serve up more drinks, only to realize my tips were dwindling the longer the Chief stayed. I tried not to let my anger affect my work, but it was no use. After his second beer, he finally left but not before giving me a pointed look. I looked down the bar, hoping Charlie didn't scare off any of my usual customers and noticed he wasn't the only one to leave.

Rose's good-looking friend left too.

Feeling like I would scream at the shittiness that was my night, I signaled to Angela that I was going on break. Thankfully she nodded her head and gave me a sympathetic smile. She knew how crazy Charlie made me. Like me, she too had an overbearing father. The only difference was her father, the town pastor, kicked her out of the house when she came out of the closet.

I went out to the side alley, leaving the door propped open and went to my hiding place. It was reserved for when Paul or Charlie made me want to rip out my hair. It was mostly concealed by stacked crates, and I never had to worry about the smell of Dumpster because that was around the corner, behind the bar. I took a deep breath and sat on an upside down pickle bucket.

I was in the middle of my mantra, "Just a few more weeks," when I was interrupted by giggling. Giggling near my thinking spot. I heard a man hush the bimbo, and I stood to see who the hell was interrupting my woosah moment.

Fuck me, again.

It was Rose's friend, and he wasn't alone. There was a blonde on her knees in front of him, and it was none other than that two-bit skank, Lauren Mallory. Fuck it all, if I wasn't jealous of that slut.

He roughly ripped off her leather jacket and gently placed it on a nearby stoop. I then heard the sound of his zipper and crept closer to the crates that hid me from Sexy Biker Friend and the Mallory skank. His hand was wrapped around his rather impressive cock, and I felt my panties dampen at the sight of it. Was it possible for a penis to be beautiful?

Yes, yes it was.

I wanted to growl at the blonde when she leaned in to take him into her mouth. Luckily, he wasn't having any of that. He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her head back so she could look him in the eye, and he said in a low, velvety voice, "You don't get to suck. All you're allowed to do is lick my balls. Is that understood?"

She whimpered but nodded her head. Not that I blamed her. I myself was struggling not to shove the bitch aside to take her place at the feet of Adonis himself.

He positioned her head to his liking, keeping his left hand in her hair as his right pumped his long, thick cock. I licked my lips when I saw a bead of pre-cum on the tip of his beautiful dick, and I tried to rub my thighs together to get some much needed friction.

He tipped his head back with a groan and said, "Bella."

My breath caught, and before I could blink, he tilted his head to the side and winked at me.

Bastard.