Devil’s Knights MC Box Set 1

by Winter Travers

  The overflowing sink full of dishes was giving me the stink eye, and I knew I should do them. Instead, I flipped the sink off, ripped a piece of paper out of a notebook and left a note for Remy. He could do them when he got home from school. I put a twenty dollar bill on top. Problem solved.

  Looking at the clock, I saw there were four hours before I had to be at work. I was exhausted and would be needing a nap. I grabbed some panties and a sleep shirt from my dresser and headed into the bathroom before I keeled over.

  Remy is my fantastic, most awesome son ever. I love him. Plain and simple.

  Remy is always telling me I don’t need to wake up in the mornings with him before school. He was right; he was sixteen and could totally handle getting himself out the door on time for school. Damn kid was more put together than his mom is. I don’t get up with him because I think he can’t get himself ready, I do it because otherwise, I wouldn’t have any time to spend with him.

  Working from three to eleven Sunday through Thursday, I barely see Remy. Dragging my butt out of bed after only getting a couple hours of sleep to be up by at six to spend an hour and a half with him before he runs off to school is necessary. After he goes to school, I clean, run errands, and any other odd things that needed to be done. Then I would normally pass out for a few hours before work. It was a weird schedule, but it works.

  I shared custody of Remy with my douche of an ex-husband, Hunter. We had been married for twelve years and divorced for the past five years. Yes, I had gotten married when I was nineteen. Looking back on marrying so young, I realized it was not the right choice at all. That’s what happens when you’re young, stupid, have low self-esteem, and the first guy in eighteen years shows a little interest in you. You end up married, pregnant, and alone, while your newly acquired husband runs off with his friends. Leaving you alone with a newborn and no idea how to care for him. Thank goodness I had my mom and sister to help me out.

  The decision to get a divorce was one of the hardest, and also one of the easiest, decisions I have ever made. It wasn’t a good marriage at all. In the end, we both just stayed married for so long because of Remy.

  We have a pretty lax visitation schedule when it comes to Remy. A lot of the time Remy will spend the evenings with his dad, then come to my house to sleep and wake up at our house. Weekends are pretty much every other, but there are always exceptions. Hunter is big into hunting and fishing and had gotten Remy into in too, so they are always out on the boat or traipsing through the woods. As long as Remy was happy, I was fine with the arrangement.

  I grabbed Remy’s dirty clothes off the floor and threw them into the hamper. God forbid he would put his clothes in the hamper instead of on the floor next to the hamper. Boys.

  I plugged my phone into the speaker that was set up on the tank of the toilet and fired up the shower playlist. I had a playlist for nearly anything. Chill, shower, cleaning, pissed off, you name it; there was a playlist for it.

  Steam and the sound of Journey crooning about a lonely girl taking the midnight train to anywhere filled the bathroom as I got undressed.

  I looked in the mirror and cringed. Hopefully, my hair looked a lot better during my encounter with Lo. Right now it just looked like a maroon rat’s nest on the top of my head. I would be the first to tell you, my name is Meg, and I am addicted to dyeing my hair. Red, maroon, purple, black, brown, even blonde at one point in my life, you name it, my hair has been that color. On further inspection of myself in the mirror, I had bags under my eyes and dark circles that just made me look tired. Fabulous.

  Hunter never told me I was pretty. Or gorgeous. Or anything flattering. At one point, I would have been thrilled for him to tell me I looked ok. He never commented when I changed my hair color or hairstyle, which was often and each time very noticeable. Never commented when my weight would fluctuate, which it did quite often throughout our twelve years together.

  When I would try to stand by him in public, Hunter would always move away from me like he didn’t want people to know he married me, let alone knew me. In all honestly, he acted like he was just disgusted with me. He did wonders for my ego. Not!

  I tried so hard those first ten years of marriage to make it something more and I just couldn’t. He told me he wasn’t the type of guy to say things about hair or looks, and that I knew that when I married him (I so did not!). He wasn’t going to change for me, end of story.

  The last two years of hell, I mean our marriage, I had completely checked out. I weighed the most I ever had, and I ate to be happy, but I never got happy. I just got bigger, and when I got bigger, my low self-esteem became nonexistent

  Hunter started noticing that I wouldn’t say I love you anymore. I would say me too, or act like I didn’t hear him. He finally called me on it, and I just couldn’t lie anymore. I loved him for giving me, Remy, but that was it. Any love I had for him before had gone away a long time ago.

  He got pissed.

  I cried.

  He yelled.

  I cried more.

  That was a typical fight between us. Except for that time, Hunter left, and I let him go. We both knew it was over and there was no going back.

  Of course, Hunter called me every name in the book and tried to make my life hell that first year after the divorce but I didn’t let it bother me and that drove Hunter crazy. Silence drove him batshit crazy, to be exact. He always had to be talking, even if it was nothing he was saying, you had better listen, and you had better have a comment when he was done talking. I had no comment after all the things he said about me, just silence. He finally just left me alone, and that was where we are now. We talked when it was about Remy, and that was all we talked about.

  It. Was. Awesome.

  Now I was working on getting my confidence back. I never used to look in the mirror unless it was first thing in the morning getting ready or at night washing my face, those were the only times.

  Now, I made myself look in the mirror and was learning to love the person staring back. I had lost some weight since the divorce but was still a big girl. I was a size eighteen, with lots of boob and lots of ass. I really had lots of everything. I was always going to be curvy.

  My face had finally gotten out of puberty two years ago to where it didn’t constantly break out. A woman in her thirties having constant breakouts was ridiculous, then just one day it stopped. Not that I was going to question it, I was just going to go with it and pray it never came back. My face was round and full and had an average look. I barely ever wore makeup because I just didn’t see the point and really wasn’t a girly girl. I would rather be out helping dad work on an old car than spending an hour each day worrying about how I looked.

  I jumped in the shower deciding that was enough looking in the mirror. If I looked too long, I started seeing all the things I hated. I washed up and sang along with Journey for a couple songs, and felt my fatigue hit me hard as I stepped out of the shower. I threw on my clothes and went to crash.

  ========

  Meg

  I rolled over and heard “Compass” by Lady Antebellum blaring from my phone. I pulled the pillow off my head and looked at the time. It was only one o’clock. Everyone I knew knows not to call me during the afternoon unless it was an emergency.

  “This better be an emergency. You know how much I love my sleep.” I mumbled into the phone, putting the pillow back over my head. I had forgotten to pull the curtains and sunlight was streaming in through the window.

  “No, I don’t know how much you like to sleep darlin’, but now I do.” I shot up, knocking the pillow off my head, and kicked my dog, Blue, in the head.

  It was Lo. Why the heck was he calling? Maybe something happened to Ethel. Wait, did he just call me darlin’?

  “Did something happen to your mom?” I demanded.

  “No. She’s good. Actually making a pie right now for tomorrow.” Lo said.

  I breathed a sigh of relief and took a breather. “Ok. That’s good. So why did you call me?”
I asked, as I laid back down and Blue jumped off the bed. Blue was just like me, sleep was golden, and nobody better interrupt it.

  “I was calling to ask-”

  “Wait. How did you get my number?” I interrupted him.

  “From my mom, darlin’. You gave it to her this morning.” He chuckled.

  “Shit, that’s right. I forgot. Sorry. Proceed.”

  “Thanks for the permission.” Lo rumbled into the phone.

  I slapped myself on the forehead and winced. “Sorry. I’m not a morning person.”

  “It’s one in the afternoon, you missed morning by an hour, Meg.” I could hear the smile in his voice. Apparently, I was entertaining.

  “I mean, I need time to um … ahh … wake up before my brain starts to function properly.” Jeez, now I sounded like a moron.

  “I got ya, babe. I’ll let ya get back to sleep, but I just wanted to ask you if you wanted to meet me for a drink tonight?”

  Hmm, babe? Not quite as good as darlin’ but still good. Wait, did he just ask me out for a drink? “What?”

  “You want to meet me at The Tavern for a drink after you get off work?” Lo asked again.

  “I did hear you right the first time; I guess I was just shocked you wanted to meet up with me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I want to get a drink with you? Buy you a couple drinks, thank you for helping my mom today.” Lo reasoned.

  Therefore, this was like a pity drink. Got it. That made more sense than Lo actually wanting to go out with me, just a drink. “Sure, sounds good. I live right down the street from there. We normally go there after work on Thursday so I won’t be there till after midnight.” I told him.

  “No problem, darlin’. Hold on a sec.” I heard Ethel yelling something to Lo. “My mom wants to know if you can make it tomorrow for lunch.”

  “Um, yeah. Should be fine. I just need to know where.”

  “I’ll text you her address and time,” Lo said.

  “Ok, well, I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Looking forward to it, darlin’.” I started to say bye but realized Lo had already hung up.

  Darlin’. How many times did he call me that, three or four? His voice just sends shock waves through me, especially when he calls me darlin’.

  “It’s just a drink. He just wants to say thanks for helping Ethel today. Nothing more, nothing less. Right, Bluesy? You’re all I need.” I crooned to Blue.

  Blue, my Basset Hound, sat at the foot of my bed, crying. “Can’t get up, Bluesy?” I leaned over the edge and looked at the dog. He really was cute looking, in a pathetic kind of way. He had ears that were about five times too big for his head and droopy looking eyes. He was black, brown, and white with black freckles running up his white legs. He was adorable.

  Blue looked at me and placed his front paws on the bed, begging for me to help him up. “Might as well get up Blue and make some dinner for work tonight. What ya in the mood for, sweet boy?” I scratched Blue behind his ears and crawled out of bed.

  Blue walked into the kitchen and came back with his food bowl and dropped it at my feet. “Silly boy. How about I fill your bowl, and I’ll whip up some cheeseburgers for Remy and Troy.” Troy was my co-worker, we have been working together for the past twelve years. Besides Remy and my family, Troy was the only other person I was close to. We were like brother and sister.

  Troy was six years younger than me, had his own house, and was freaking hilarious and my best friend. Troy was both mine and Hunter’s friend before the divorce. Troy always joked that I got him in the divorce.

  I walked into the kitchen and started getting everything out for the burgers.

  I lived in a two bedroom, one bath house. I loved it. It was the perfect size for Remy and myself. There was a small living room with a chocolate brown, large overstuffed chaise lounge where I loved to read and a matching overstuffed couch where you would typically find Remy playing X-Box or watching Netflix. Remy and I each had our own room that were separated by the bathroom. The back yard was huge, with a large deck and a fire pit. It was where I spent a good bit of my time on the weekends just relaxing.

  When I really needed to clear my mind, I cooked or baked. That was what I was going to do now. No more thinking about Lo and all those tattoos and wondering what he looked like with his shirt off and his smile that made me want to rip my clothes off and let him have his way with me.

  No more thinking about Lo and his tattoos.

  No. More.

  I wonder how many he has.

  Shit. I was so screwed.

  ========

  Chapter 3

  Meg

  “So, you helped rescue his mom from near death and now you are going out for drinks with him?’ Troy shoveled the last bite of burger in his mouth and looked at me. “Think he’ll buy me a beer?”

  “That’s all you have to say? You're not concerned that he is some crazy guy or he is just meeting with me out of pity. You just want a beer. How about I buy you a beer tonight and I’ll look for a new best friend? Blue, at least, looked at me with concern when I explained everything to him.” I grumbled.

  “Blue just wanted to eat, and he knows you’re the one who fills his bowl. You give that dog more credit than you do me. You aren’t going to find a better friend than me, I don’t know why you are even worried; you talk to guys all the time.”

  I threw some cheese at Troy and flipped him off. “I'm concerned because I am me, Troy. I am 36 years old, divorced-”

  “Thank God,” Troy said under his breath. Troy had been on the Divorce the Douchebag bandwagon for five years before we finally did divorce.

  “And have a sixteen-year-old son,” I continued, “I am nothing to write about when it comes to looks. I have a huge butt and gut, and I can‘t even remember the last time I had an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced. Why does he want to have a drink with me? You’re a guy, why? WHY?!” I shrilled.

  “Meg, shut up. I do not want to hear about your orgasms or lack thereof.” Troy scrunched his face up and stuck his tongue out. So mature. “Stop worrying, or I am going to throw my soda at you. He wants to have a drink with you because you helped his mom. Don’t read into it any more than that, just go with it. I’m going to be there and so are a bunch of people from work, so you have nothing to worry about. And I am not even going to touch all that shit you said about yourself and your butt because it is just shit.” Troy decreed.

  “Hmm. Fine.” I huffed. “No more worrying and I guess I’ll wait till next week to look for a new best friend.” I gave Troy a smirk and started clearing away the plates from dinner.

  “I appreciate it. Even though you couldn’t find another person to put up with you the way I do.” Such a smartass.

  “I’m sure Cyn would gladly step up to the coveted position of BFF.” Cyn was our co-worker who worked out in the production area of the plant. Cyn came down to visit us often, mainly for the comedy act that was known as Meg and Troy’s friendship.

  “Humph, just because she asked you to be a bridesmaid in her wedding doesn’t mean she can handle you. Besides, you said it yourself, I’m irreplaceable.” Troy put his hard hat on and made his way to the door and looked back at me. “You’re beautiful Meg. You deserve to be happy. I’ll have your back tonight when you meet this guy, just like I always have your back no matter the situation, just like you would do for me.”

  “Oh, Troy, why can’t we just jump each other’s bones? Life would be so much easier that way.” I threw away all the garbage and grabbed my hard hat to help Troy load the truck waiting for us.

  “I’m too short for you, and you’re too old for me,” Troy said ducking out of the office and running to his forklift.

  “Why you little shit head.” I slammed my hat on my head and chased after him. “You’re thirty years old you asshole, not exactly young either!” I stood in front of his forklift and stared him down.

  “I know, babe. I just like giving you shit.”

  “You need a girlfrien
d.”

  “You need a non-self-induced orgasm. Maybe from your big, bad boy.” Troy countered.

  “I hate you. I don’t even know why I talk to you.” I whined.

  “You’d still be married to that asshole if it wasn’t for me. You need me, if not for emotional support, then for the hilarity that is me, to bring laughter to your boring life.”

  “No, I wouldn’t, and you are hilarious, but I taught you everything you know.” I climbed on my forklift and buckled up.

  “Yeah, you are the more experienced one, and by experienced, I mean old!” Troy slammed on the gas of his forklift and took off.

  “Douchebag!” I yelled.

  Troy was right, though, I wouldn’t have made it through the last five years without him. It really was a shame that we didn’t see each other as more than friends. We got along so well that half the time we were out; people did think that we were together.

  Troy dated on and off but never really found a girl that would stick around. Half of them just wanted a good time, which was what Troy was known for, but Troy wanted something more now. He wanted to settle down and have a family; he just couldn’t find the right girl.

  The other half of the girls he dated all liked him and wanted to have a relationship with him, but they didn’t like the friendship Troy and I had. They all thought that Troy and I were sleeping together and would want Troy to choose between them and me. No matter how much Troy tried to convince them nothing was going on between us, they never believed him, so he always chose me. He figured if they couldn’t trust him, they weren’t worth his time.

  My problem when it came to dating was I just didn’t want to play the games. I hated all the guessing and wondering what the other person was thinking, I was straight forward, and that’s what I wanted from the person I dated.

  Of course, I would have to actually go on a date with someone to see if they were worth my time. Maybe Lo could be my jumping off point into the dating scene.