Falling For The Biker - Chapter 48: Chapter 48

Arthur’s POV
“Do not take it to heart. She’ll come around,” Mum whispered as we watched Sierra go up the stairs.
“Maybe it’s best you leave her alone. You aren’t exactly convincing enough,” Jackson chimed in, his tone filled with anger.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Everything seemed fine, but then it seemed it vanished before my eyes before I could process things. “At the race, there were a lot of gossips flying around. I have a feeling Neil is involved. Too many people know about her and they are not happy about it,” Jackson said.
I rushed up, heading for the door. “What do you want to do?” Jackson asked, making me pause, but then I walked off.
He joined me on the porch. “Beating him up would solve nothing,” he said.
“He’s trying to sabotage me and you want me to keep calm? I knew his coming back would not go so well. Could my father have found something?” I said.
That might explain why he has been calling. “I doubt he is aware. His ways wouldn’t be using your cousin,” Jackson said, and I nodded.
“You can’t stop the rumours by beating people up. How many of them would you do that to?” he said.
“So what do you expect I do? They are all ruining my chances,” I said.
“Give up,”
I looked away, disappointed. “Should have known. You don’t want me, you want Dexter instead?”
I struck a nerve. “Shut the fuck off. I want neither of you…” he sighed. “But I can’t stop Sierra from doing what she wants to. So fare, the rumours are only hurting her and it won’t stop until you fix it,”
“How?” I asked.
“I can’t help you with that, man,” Jackson said, turning around to leave.
“Uncle Arthur,” Elvis stood at the door.
“Hey rascal, need something?” I gave him a warm smile.
He came closer to me, raising his head, hands in front of him. “Uncle Arthur, do you like my mommy?”
Jackson and I passed knowing looks to each other. “No-“
“Yes,” I interrupted, dropping to Elvis’ height. “Yes, I like Sierra. Do… Do you want that?”
Elvis smiled. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he said and brought his lips to my ears.
I winked at Jackson, who looked annoyed by our interaction. “What did he say?” Jackson asked once I stood.
“Nothing,” I said, a small smile on the side of my lips.
“What did you say to him?” Jackson asked Elvis.
“Bye, Uncle Jackson,” Elvis waved, running into the house.
Jackson shook his head and went back in. I stood on the porch for a while. I thought of ways to make things better between me and Sierra, but nothing came to me. I went back in and grabbed Jackson’s keys for his bike.
“Don’t ruin it,” he warned as I headed for the door.
I didn’t need him to tell me that. I rarely crashed. Riding through the streets, I could see the ladies all fawning over me. I might have crashed in the race, but my reputation was good enough.
Halfway through the journey back to my suite, I noticed three cars behind me. I had seen them a few roads down. I didn’t want to believe I was being followed, but I had to be sure.
Taking one last look through my side mirrors, I took a turn down another road, rotating the throttle, my grip firm on them. Just as I suspected, they were following me. A part of me wanted to stop, but I chose not to.
I wasn’t sure how many they were, and I certainly was not ready for a fight. I tried taking another turn but one of the cars overtook, blocking the path. In seconds, the other two surrounded me.
I drew a sigh, cutting the engine and kicking the stand down. The doors to the car opened and all twelve men stepped out of the car while I took off my helmet. I recognized one of them, which calmed my nerves, but not in a good way.
“Is there a reason for this, Patrick?” I asked, getting off the bike.
“Master Floyd wants you home immediately,” Patrick responded.
He was my father’s favourite butler. I’ve known Patrick from the very moment I stepped into his world. I was once close to him until my views no longer completely aligned with what my father wanted.
I knew he didn’t hate me. He only supported his employer. “I’ll see him when I want to. I just got off a game and I need some race,” I said, trying to get back on my bike.
One of the men grabbed the bike, stopping me from getting on. I turned to Patrick. “You can rest at home, Master Arthur,” he said, locking eyes with me.
“Home is where I’m headed,” I said, pulling the bike off the man’s grip. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,”
“Master Floyd said to inform you home isn’t your suite,” Patrick said. “Please, join us back,” he gestured for the car.
“I’ll ride on my own,” I said.
“We can’t allow that,” Patrick gave me a soft smile.
I tossed the keys to one of them as Patrick opened the passenger door of one of the cars for me. We soon arrived at my house, which had only gotten much more flooded with servants.
They all bowed and greeted as I walked by. I wasn’t in the mood to respond to any of them. Yet again, my old man found a way to get me to come back to a house he infiltrated.
What was more annoying was they had their house in the village, but they chose to crash here instead. His show of power never got old. Once I stepped in, a lady tried to get my jacket, but I held out my hand.
Before I could speak, Patrick did. “He is in his study,” he said.
My study but I guess now it was his. I stroked a nod and went up the stairs. Pushing the door to the study open, I spotted him, hands behind his back, staring at my trophies all lined on the shelf.
“Dad,” I called.
He looked over his shoulder briefly and walked over to the desk. “Took you long enough,” he said, pulling out a gun from the drawer.