Three Strikes (Demons Disciples MC Book 1)

by Allana Walker

  “At the clubhouse?” He finishes it for me. “Look, we’ll find it. Can you not wear something else for now?”

  “No, Nico. I can’t. That necklace gave me some sort of hope that my stepmom maybe, sort of, actually did love me at some point before she turned fully into the evil stepmother from hell. That she wasn’t this horrible, heartless bitch that ruined my life at every turn. That she did have a heart deep down!”

  “All right, Jesus.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just pissed that I have never taken it off since then, but as soon as I get involved with the likes of…” I don’t even want to say his name because it’s too hard. “I lose almost everything good in my life, including my spirit.”

  “I know you miss him, Daria. I’ll tell you what I’m going to be telling him. You need to sort this tension out. It’s affecting everyone around you, especially Emily.” I agree with him. “Ah-ha, found it.” He pulls out my necklace from where Striker’s gym shorts are. “Seems Striker always pulls through when you least expect it.” He kisses my cheek.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

  “Don’t sweat it, cupcake. I live with Jess. She’s ten times worse than you.” He winks and begins to walk out.

  “You do know I will tell her that.”

  “I know. The angry sex will be amazing.” He laughs, running out as I throw a shoe at him.

  He’s right. I know he is, but right now, the way I still feel towards Striker, I can’t face him and I don’t know if I will ever be able to.

  ***

  In the club, we’re on to our next game.

  “Ladies, listen!” I shout. I’m well passed being tipsy. I haven’t had as much fun in a long time. “Shhhh,” I slur, spilling my drink a little. “The next game is a drinking game. It’s called, ‘Drink If’” I flash the card. “Jess, you go first.”

  “I think we’ll need another pitcher of alcohol just for you.” She looks down the list. Grace goes to the bar to order more booze.

  “Right, raise your drink if you have known me for more than ten years,” Jess begins. It’s only me and Grace that take a drink. I down mine, whereas Grace only takes a sip.

  As everyone reads on, I drank for every single sentence. “When did you skinny dip, you little hussy?” Jess questions me.

  “When me and Jake went on a dirty weekend,” I slur. “I miss his cock.” Jess spits her drink out and laughs hard. “Too bad he bats for the other team now huh?” My eyes widen as an idea pops into my head. “Do you think he’ll have a threesome with me and his new man?” Jess laughs again.

  “Someone call to put out a fire?” Looking round, I see the stripper we arranged, his eyes trained on me.

  “Put my fire out any day, baby.” I whoop and slip some dollar bills in his pants. Next thing, I see is him on the floor and Striker standing above him.

  “What the fuck?” Jess sneers as we kneel down to tend to the poor stripper who has just been punched.

  “Are you okay?” I ask him, my drunk euphoria suddenly disappearing in an instant.

  “Daria, come with me,” Striker snarls at me. When I don’t answer him, he growls at me again. “Move. Now.” I still ignore him, handing the stripper a tissue. Looking at his nose, blood pouring and his eyes watering I know for sure it’s broken. A hand wraps around my bicep, pulling me up and dragging me out of the club.

  Once outside, I get a good look at him and yank my arm out of his grasp.

  “What the hell?” I stare up into angry, no scratch that, absolutely livid blue eyes. He grabs my bicep again. “Get your hands off me!” I snatch my arm out of his tight grip. Rubbing my arm, I can already see a bruise forming. Looking around me, I can see some of the brothers standing by their bikes. Nico looks down when Jess storms out behind me.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” she screams at Striker. “You can’t come into a club, ruin what was a fantastic night, and punch and break someone's nose for doing what we arranged for him to do.”

  I push him, rounding him to go back in to tend the to the poor guy’s face.

  “Where the fuck do you think you're going?” He tries to grab me again but I manage to avoid him, much to his amazement.

  “Going back in there to fix your fucking mess,” I sneer looking him up and down. “Like I always do.”

  “Well, if you wanted to be a fucking whore, I would have locked you in the clubhouse eleven years ago.” He growls.

  Stopping mid-step, I march back to him and slap him as hard as I can across his cheek. All the anger over the past week or so seeps out of me. In the space of a week, he’s called me a whore three times, and said he never loved me. He comes to the club and crashes Jess’ bachelorette party and thinks it’s acceptable to place his hands on, not only me, but that guy, and demand I go with him? He’s more delusional than I thought.

  “Don't you ever call me a whore again. I'm not your property to own. I never was. Nor am I the same girl I was back then.” He rubs his reddening cheek where I just slapped him. “If you wanted a bad bitch.” I spread my arms out wide, walking backwards. “You got her.” I continue back into the club to try to convince that guy not to press charges. The last thing I need is for Striker to go back to prison and for Emily to lose her dad.

  Seeing the guy being tended to by some of the bar staff, I walk over to him. “Where's your bodyguard?”

  “He's not my bodyguard.” Just an overprotective asshole of a boyfriend.

  Or is that ex-boyfriend?

  “You know I could sue his ass and throw him in jail for this, right?”

  “I'm well aware of that. I work for a law firm.”

  “Ah so, you've come to pay me off so I won't tell the cops.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Five thousand.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Ten thousand or he gets his ass thrown in jail and you'll never see him ever again.” He looks me up and down. “Don't worry, sweetness, I'm sure I could keep you satisfied while he's in jail.” He grabs my ass. My fist takes on a life if its own and punches him in his already broken nose. What is it with men thinking they can treat me like I’m some sort of plaything?

  “Fucking forget who did that to you or I'll throw your ass in jail for sexual assault.” The bartender claps behind the bar. “I'll come by tomorrow and give you money for the cleaning up and to pay off our tab.”

  I ignore the ass who’s shouting God knows what at me. I’m sure it’s nothing but sweet lullabies for me.

  “Don’t worry about it. It's clear.”

  Walking out, I shake my hand. Shit, that fucking hurt.

  “All good?” Striker asks.

  “Don’t even fucking talk to me.” Walking past him, I head in the direction of my house.

  “Baby, come on. Get on my bike.” I flip him the bird and I hear Jess whoop and giggle. “Daria, stop being stubborn. Get on my bike.” He rides up beside me, driving at my speed. Ignoring him, I continue walking. “Suit yourself.” He speeds off into the distance. Asshole.

  Walking up to my house, I feel relief. I can't wait to get a bath and some ice on my hand. Looking down at it, I see bruising starting to come up.

  “Feeling better?” Striker’s voice startles me, making me jump. He’s sitting at the dining room table with his booted feet resting on top, and he has a huge smile on his face. Not answering him, I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and ice for my hand, heading up to my room. I hear footsteps following me as I start running the bath.

  “Baby, can you stop being a brat and talk to me?” He comes up behind me, not touching me, but I feel the familiar burn of desire course through me.

  No, be strong. Don't let him get to you.

  Rounding him, I start removing my jewelry and wipe off my make-up. I can see him staring at me in the mirror.

  Keep staring, buddy, because that's all you'll get tonight. File it all away in your wank bank for later.

  “Daria, stop be
ing a stubborn bitch and talk to me goddamn it!” He spins me around. I look up at him, and he stares down at me like he wants to eat me. “Please, Daria. I miss you.” He slides his fingers in my hair, his palm resting on my cheek. A tear slips down my cheek at the thought of what I’m about to say.

  “I want you out of my house.”

  He jerks his head back slightly, tilting it to the side. “What?”

  “I want you and all your stuff out of my house by the end of the day tomorrow,” I say with more confidence, as the image of him and that whore from last week comes to my mind.

  “Daria, baby.” He tries to take me in his arms, but I move out of reach into my closet to hand him a suitcase. “Is this a joke?” He laughs a little, looking between me and the suitcase.

  “No. It’s over, Striker.” I place the case down in front of him, fold my arms, holding my mid-section.

  “Come on. You don’t mean that.” Again he reaches for me and I step back. I don’t want him to touch me, because if he does, I know I’ll cave. Sighing in defeat, he packs some of his stuff. I watch his retreating back. I almost call him back and tell him I don’t want him to go, but all the things he’s put me through the past few months, years even. I can’t deal with it anymore.

  “No matter what happens, baby, we’ll never be over. You and me, we’re one and the same.” He turns his head slightly and I can only see half of his face. “We’re two broken souls looking for their missing piece. You were mine.”

  Crumbling to the floor, I hug my knees and cry my last tears for Striker.

  For us.

  The End…

  More Books By Allana Walker

  A Fight For Freedom Duet

  Breaking Free

  Until Death

  Blackout: Novella

  American Dream: Short Story

  She Loves Me. He Loves Me Not.

  More from the Demon Disciples

  Coming Soon

  Nothing Else Matters: Daria and Striker Book Two

  Stay With Me: Nico and Jessica Novella

  Say You Love Me: Emily Novella

  Secret Novella

  Acknowledgements

  Victoria and Kirsty:

  Where do I start with you guys? I can’t thank you guys enough for all the help and support you have both given me throughout my whole journey and especially the past two years when writers' block hit me hard.

  Victoria, thank you for being my story/idea bouncer off-er and my ass-kicker. Striker is all yours.

  Kirsty, thank you for always being on hand for my mountain of questions about this crazy author world we have found ourselves in.

  You’re both my ride or dies and I’d be lost without you both.

  #SBB4Life

  Michelle, Victoria, and Susan:

  Thank you all so much for taking a chance, once again, on my book baby. You have no idea how awesome you all and how much I appreciate you all for taking the time to read and give me feedback.

  My Family:

  Thank you all for all your support and understanding when I miss family events, meals, etc. to chase my dream. You are all awesome and I love you all.

  About The Author

  Allana lives in Dundee with her husband and two daughters.

  From a young age she has always had a passion for reading, and until a few years ago, she started secretly writing.

  She wants to show, not only to her daughters but to everyone else, that you do whatever you want when you put your mind to it.

  She loves reading a range of genres, particularly MC, Mafia, and Romance.

  Other than reading and writing, Allana loves to help out other authors, watching WWE, dancing around the room with her daughters, or go to the cinema with her husband. She also loves to bake.