Falling For The Biker - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

Arthur's POV
The chatter of voices, the music keeping the bar lively, all faded to the background at Rod's words. My heart sank and I could barely breathe. I didn't need to be told what international race he was talking about.
There was only one I had high hopes for. There was only one that could make Rod lose his composure. The Grat International Biker Race.
I had been in many races, national and international. I had acquired fame in numerous countries, but it wasn't always enough to get everything on a platter. I could not always get a spot in all races and that was the Grat International Biker Race.
It was to happen next year. Not just winning, but being in that race could push me higher than I was now. That had been one of my goals to achieve. It took me years to get a spot and now… removed?
My fingers tightened around my phone. “What do you mean… re-removed?” I stammered, my heart racing so much I could barely give a word out properly.
Rod sighed, the frustration seeping through the phone. “What did you do?” he asked.
“Do? I didn't do anything!” I defended. I had been careful these past few days. I knew a lot of things could go wrong, but there was nothing, so why this?
Jackson signaled I placed the phone on loudspeaker and I did. “Calm down, Rod. What happened?” Jackson said to the phone.
“Arthur angered someone,” Rod replied, his voice strained. “I had an intel earlier tell me. The official notification has been sent and by tomorrow it would be on the headlines.”
Angered someone? The words swam in my head for a moment, trying to remember who it must be. I had been careful, there was no way I could have. Then it clicked. There was one person who had such power.
The power to ruin everything that I had worked for with a phone call. My fingers raked my hair. “Is there nothing we can do?” I asked, my voice filled with desperation.
Only he could bring out this part of me. “I can't lose this, Rod. Not for anything,” I added.
“You'll have to appease him,” Rod said with a sigh. “When I was informed, I didn't bother because I expected you knew what was going on. You should have handled this already, Arthur. You always have,”
His words stung. Appease? Handled it?
For years, since I chose a path my father did not agree with, I had always had to walk on eggshells, bound to the leash he had me in. I swallowed my anger and pride every damn time to keep the peace.
To keep what I loved doing.
And he knew this, so he always did it. Every fucking time his threat would be replayed in my ears, forcing me to do what I didn't want to, but I didn't understand why he did this. I visited the company these past few days.
I sprung up from the chair, spinning around, heading for the door to… to do what? Confront him? Beg? The thought weighed down on my shoulders. I turned around and sank back onto the stool of the bar.
“Aren't you going to see him?” Jackson asked, his brows furrowed with concern.
“Mike,” I called out to the bartender. “Give me something hot and strong,”
He reached for a glass. “No,” I said, stopping him. “Give me the bottle,”
“Going to see your father drunk, Arthur? That will not yield good results,” Jackson said.
“That's because I'm not going,” I replied, my eyes fixed on the bottle now in my hands.
Surprised flickered across Jackson's face. “You're just… giving up? On this? On everything you've worked for your whole life?” he said.
I didn't need him to spell it out. I knew what it meant. Letting my father have this. Letting him seethe in the victory over me, then I was giving up on everything. My stubbornness would only make him ruin everything. My future.
I threw my head back, bringing the bottle to my lips. The harsh burn of the liquor, reminding me of my predicament. “What does he want now?” Jackson asked.
Just then, my phone buzzed on the counter. The call ID flashed 'Mom'. Speak of the devil. I picked up, hitting the loudspeaker button.
“Arthur, sweetie,” her voice was gentle, but she could not hide the mischief in them. “I heard about what happened. Why don't you come home? I'll speak to your father about it,” she said.
Sometimes I wondered which side she truly was on. Before me, she acted as though she was for me, but every damn time, her husband won, and she let it happen, urging me to bend so low I could be nothing.
“Is this why you did it?” I asked. “So I could come home?”
“No, of course not,” she denied hastily. “We just… we need you to agree to the marriage. You are in your late twenties. You don't have a decent job, no wife, no children. You need to settle down.”
And yet again, my passion was nothing in their eyes. That was my life, not some arranged marriage to some lady I didn't even know. Without a word, I ended the call.
“Agree to the marriage,” Jackson said.
I gulped a good portion of my drink. “I knew you would say that,” I said.
He sighed, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Look, man, I'm not doing this because I want you to stay away from Sierra. I'm doing this so you will have what you love without interference,” he said.
That was the issue. I knew it would not end there. It never did. “Rod would find a way,” I said, taking another swig of my drink.
Even though I said that, a knot of uncertainty tightened in my chest. It wouldn't be easy to lift what my father had his power on.
Then my phone dinged. A notification flashed on the screen and a slow, unexpected smile spread across my face. “What's that look?” Jackson asked, his eyes narrowed in curiosity. “Is it sorted?”
I stood up, my gaze fixed on my phone, ready to reply and head out. “No,” I said to Jackson. “But the universe just sent me an angel,”