Tess Property of Blaze
Book #5 in the Blood Brothers MC Series
J.A. Collard
Tess
Property of Blaze
Book #5 in the Blood Brothers MC Series
Copyright 2019 by J.A Collard All rights reserved.
Book #5 in the Blood Brothers MC Series, Published, July 2019 All rights reserved. ©
Editor, Corrine Harris
Proofreader, Pinnys Proofreading
Cover Designer, CJC Photography
Female Model: Riley Rebecca
Formatter: Formatting By Tammy
Disclaimer This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to event, places, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author acknowledges all song titles, film titles, and film characters mentioned in this book are the property of, and belong to, their respective owner.
Contents
Authors Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
J.A Collard’s Other Books
To my readers, thank you for your ongoing support throughout this series.
This book may not be for the fainthearted. It contains scenes of an extremely upsetting nature that includes rape. This book is strictly an 18+ read.
Tess
Past
My cheek is hot beneath my palm, and I wince as I turn my head on the pillow to face Viper. He’s out cold. After a night of partying at the club, he came home drunk, and I suspect high as a kite as well. I should have run, but I didn’t, even though I knew what was coming.
I’m used to being a punching bag for him, but Viper doesn’t like it when I don’t fight back. You see, my cries of pain and begging him to stop turns him on even more, so tonight I let my mind drift away to another place as he strangled me with one hand and thrust deep inside of me repeatedly, bruising my core with his savage rutting.
Silent tears run down my face, leaving a stinging sensation where he’d cut my cheek with his skull ring when he backhanded me.
I never loved Viper, didn’t want to marry him, but I was ordered to by my father, president of the Forseekers Motorcycle Club. My mother died giving birth to me, leaving my dad and the club members the only family I had left. Even till this day, my father blames me for her death. He never lets me forget it, especially when he gets in one of his violent moods, which ends up with him getting drunk and spitting out hurtful words to me—saying I should have never been born, that I should have died instead of her.
I was brought up feeling like I didn’t belong, and all I ever did was try to please him. So when I turned twenty-one, Viper, the VP of the Forseekers, showed interest in me. He wasn’t completely unattractive—ten years older, broad-shouldered, with dark, almost black eyes, and blond hair. When my father told me I was to marry him and become his old lady, I didn’t argue. If it meant I would see my dad happy and proud of me, even if it was for just one day, I would do it. I didn’t need to love him. I could have done worse, I kept telling myself.
It only took a month of being married till he laid his hands on me in violence for the first time. The next day he said he was truly sorry, bought me flowers, and took me on a romantic ride on the back of his bike, followed by a picnic at the beach. I forgave him—he did promise after all that he would never do it again—but it was all lies, I had found out the hard way.
After a few more times of him hitting and raping me, I confided in my dad and asked him for help. And it was then I knew I had to get out of there. My dad said that if Viper had hit me, that I must have deserved it. It was my duty to please my man, and I must have done something wrong to upset him. I’d just nodded my head and turned around and left the club, knowing full well it would be the last time I asked my dad for anything.
So from that day on, I started to save every cent I could to get me out of there. I needed to have some money behind me in order to make a life for myself somewhere else.
And then that day arrived.
Today.
Not worrying about taking anything with me but a few clothes, I packed a duffel bag and threw it under the bed. In hindsight, I should have left then, when I had a chance. I thought Viper would be out for most of the night, getting drunk at the club and passing out there, meaning I’d have all night to get the hell out of LA.
But I was wrong.
It seemed none of the club whores had quenched his insatiable thirst, so he decided to come home and take his anger and frustration out on me, getting off at the same time.
So now I’m lying here, my swollen cheek throbbing and my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. I’m scared it’s pounding loud enough he’ll hear it, so I lean up on my forearms and look over at Viper—he’s out cold, there’s no way he’s gonna wake up tonight. I sit up, my torn panties barely intact and my shirt ripped to shreds, bloodred marks from his nails leaving tacky streaks over my chilled skin. Wincing as my battered body unfolds, cramps in my pelvis area threatening to make me lose the meager contents of my stomach, I slowly get up from the bed and pad quietly over to the en suite.
I close the door gently behind me and turn to face the mirror, catching a gasp in my throat when I see myself. I take in my red and swollen cheek, blood still oozing from the cut and blending with the mascara that’s smudged over my face from the tears I’d cried. “Be strong, Teresa,” I whisper to myself.
I inhale gingerly, checking for any broken ribs or internal damage, and let out a sigh of relief when there’s no sharp pain. I turn the faucet on to just a trickle, rinsing my face quickly and efficiently with cold water. Being careful, I dab my face gently with a towel then tie my short hair up, leaving a few strands to fall around my face.
The door of the en suite clicks loudly as I head back to the bedroom, and I pause, waiting to see if Viper might stir. He doesn’t, so I move with silent urgency to the drawers to grab a fresh set of panties and shirt. I dress quickly, throwing my destroyed clothes on the floor. I bend down and pick up the discarded jeans that Viper had roughly tore off me, then pull them on, followed by my white Converse. Lastly, I grab my leather jacket out of the closet, zip myself into it, and then carefully tiptoe to the bed to remove my packed duffel bag from underneath. Viper’s snores come out in slow, even breaths, but I still can’t help checking on him every time I make the slightest sound. If he woke up and saw me dressed and packed, he’d make sure I’d never leave.
With my bag over my shoulder, I tiptoe out of the bedroom and grab the keys to my bike off the hook by the front door. My
Sportster will get me out of here.
Taking one last look at what I call my home, the same home that my parents owned when my mom was alive, I feel a sense of relief. I’m getting out of here, and I’m going to start my own life. With my mind set, I open the door and close it behind me, making sure it doesn’t slam. My bike is parked in the driveway still, and I secure my duffel bag to the back of it, then place my helmet over my head before I walk my bike out of the driveway, not wanting to make any sound. Once I’m out of earshot, I straddle it and start her up. I can hear music still blaring from the Forseekers clubhouse, just up the street. My dad had bought a place close to the club when he became president so he could come and go when he wished, and now it was Viper’s and my home, a wedding gift from my dad.
Underneath the sense of urgency to get going, I’m also feeling a tingle of excitement at starting a new life. I lift the kickstand and take off toward the highway, knowing I have a long ride ahead but determined to get as far away as I can.
New York, here I come….
Tess
Three years ago…
I stare at the image of a dragon I’ve just mocked up for a client. It’s 8:00 p.m. and I’m beat. My store closes in two hours, that should be the perfect amount of time I need to finish off this tattoo.
I’ve been living in New York for three years now. The night I left Viper, I left my old life well and truly behind. I had driven all the way to New York and stayed at a motel till I figured out what I was going to do. When I was at the clubhouse, my father sent me to design school to learn how to become a tattoo artist. I know what you’re thinking, he’s a great dad for organizing that for me, right? Yeah, well that’s what I thought too, until I worked out that his idea was for me to tattoo all the boys in the club for free, and to add another business to the books to launder money through.
I’d gotten good at it, and even began to love the idea of sketching on skin. I’d have to say that was one of the only times my father ever paid me a compliment, when I’d finished tattooing the Forseekers emblem on his arm. He’d said I was good enough to start making some money off my skill, so opened up a shop that connected to the clubhouse’s garage. Even though I was mostly tattooing bikers, I didn’t mind because I was able to keep the money I made, and I saved every cent so one day I could get the hell out of there.
Of course I had to pay my dues to the clubhouse, in the form of monthly rental payments, and turn a blind eye to the creative accounting going on behind the scenes, but for the first time in my life, I felt like I had something just for me.
So that’s when I came up with a concrete plan: to save every penny I could for a rainy day—a rainy day being when Viper escalated to the point I feared for my life, or as soon as I could survive on my own, whichever came first.
Well that rainy day arrived, and I was so glad I was prepared, because I had the opportunity to open my own business in New York. But first, I needed a new name, and ID to go along with it.
I discreetly asked around the diner across the road from the motel, but there was nothing, no one who could help me. It wasn’t until I made a late snack run to the store and saw two guys out front exchanging something—most likely drugs for money—that I spotted my chance to get some fake ID. I went up to them even though they looked scary as hell dressed in baggy blue jeans, hoodies, and beanies on top of their head. At first, they didn’t want to give me the time of day, but when I took out some cash I had stashed on me, they soon changed their minds. They took a photo of me with their phone, then asked me to meet them at same time and place the next night. Just before they left, they asked me what name I wanted on the ID. I’d been toying with names on my way to New York, and for some reason the name Tess kept coming into my mind. Maybe it’s because it’s similar to Teresa and I still wanted to keep a part of my identity, but I knew I needed to give them a new last name.
I decided on Harper, something totally different to my father’s name, Bronx.
With my new ID and money that I’d saved, I found an apartment to rent, and then a waitressing job at a local diner. My plan was to lay low and not draw any attention to myself, I was hopeful my old life wouldn’t find me. Thoughts of does my dad even miss me? and has he tried to find me? fleeted through my head sometimes over the years, but didn’t stick around long. Get over yourself, Tess, why would he miss you? He doesn’t even love you.
It’s nearly 10:00 p.m. when I walk my client out and lock up my store for the night. I was lucky enough to find a shopfront for lease close by to my apartment to open up my own tattoo shop. I’d named it Ink Me, and eventually hired another artist, Jeff, a man in his early thirties who had years of experience tattooing for other businesses. It had been hard doing it all on my own, especially when a local biker club found me and business really picked up.
Gunner, an old friend of Jeff’s, had come into the store one day, wanting to book in for a session. When I first saw Gunner pull up on his motorcycle, I’d panicked, thinking Viper and my dad had found me. I’d immediately ducked out to the back of the shop, even though I was in the middle of a job. Jeff’s eyebrows had raised when I flew past him, heading for our small kitchenette, and I whispered, “I’m not here.”
When the alarm above the front door buzzed, telling me the biker had walked in, I tried desperately to calm my racing heart and hear what he was saying, placing my ear up against the closed door. I could make out most of their conversation, and it seemed Jeff and the biker were acquainted with each other. The biker was saying he went to Jeff’s old shop and they told him Jeff was now working at Ink Me, so he decided to check us out.
I sighed in relief when I realized the biker wasn’t a Forseekers member, but I was wary, and slowly emerged from the back room, inching around the corner, trying very carefully not to give my presence away. When my eyes focused on the muscly biker standing in our small reception area, I immediately noticed his patch wasn’t the Forseekers one, it was some other MC club called the Blood Brothers.
Jeff sensed me lurking and looked over his shoulder. Jeff wore a wide gauge in his left ear, and his long black hair was tied back in a knot. Another piercing raised as he lifted his eyebrow in a curious gesture, probably wondering why I was hanging back.
“It’s fine, Tess, he’s an old friend,” Jeff had explained, and I stood up straight, feeling a little embarrassed by the situation, wondering how I was going to explain my behavior to Jeff. I swallowed hard, then walked to the rear of the counter where Jeff was standing. The biker smirked and took me in, his eyes roaming over me, and from what I could tell, he liked what he saw. Pity I wasn’t into bikers, because he was very hot indeed. But I wasn’t going there again.
His eyes skimmed over my tattooed sleeve. “Like your work. You do that yourself?”
“Some,” I replied, “but Jeff here finished it off for me.” I nod my head toward Jeff.
Both my arms are covered in tattoos, and they tell a story—my story.
I wasn’t in the mood right then to explain it, so wanting to change the subject, I said, “So… you need some work done?”
I looked at Jeff, whose eyes were narrowed, as if he was trying to figure out what was going on. “So what can I help you with, man?” Jeff finally said, repeating basically what I’d just asked.
The guy raised his sleeve, revealing some art he’d had done. There was a cross hanging from a neck chain, some Marine helmets with names on them, and gravestones.
“I wanted to have this finished off, you got time this week, man?”
Jeff looked at the computer, checking his schedule. “Sure, how’s Friday at 8.00 p.m.?”
“Sounds good, brother.” The guy then looked at me curiously. “Name’s Gunner by the way, any chance you could do my brother’s tat at the same time? He’s been wanting to get one done for a while now, and it’s his birthday on Friday. I’d like to get it for him.”
“Oh, ah… let me check. Jeff, what have I got on Friday night?” I asked, trying to look around him to th
e computer screen.
“Looks like you have Tanya till eight thirty.”
I looked over at Gunner. “If your friend doesn’t mind waiting a little, sure, I can help him out.”
“Sounds great,” Gunner said, tapping his fingers on the table, rings fitted on each of them. He smiled at me again, his white teeth showing off his incredible smile. “You’re gorgeous, you know? But I’m sure you knew that already. You got a man?” He smirked, running his eyes up and down my whole body.
Feeling my cheeks heat, I smiled back. “Thank you.”
“Not gonna happen, brother,” Jeff teased, looking between Gunner and me.
“Is that so? And why’s that? You claimed her?”
Jeff let out a laugh, and I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew what claiming someone meant in biker terms—that he was my man, because he’d claimed me. I thought then, What’s wrong with me?
Not realizing I’d said that out loud, Jeff looked over at me. “Nothing, sweetheart, you are indeed gorgeous, just telling Gunner to leave you alone. Gunner here’s had many women, don’t need to add you into the mix.”
“Hey, Jeff, you’re meant to have my back.”
Tess Property of Blaze: Book #5 in the Blood Brothers MC Series Page 1
