Author Note:
So…I know this was a tough book for you to read. I contemplated putting a disclaimer on the description on the retailer sites. I contemplated putting a warning in the front of the book as well…but, well…I wanted you to experience the rawness of it all. I wanted you to feel Rome’s pain. And I know that you felt it just as much as it hurt me to write it.
I took a few liberties writing this book. The world doesn’t always work the same in LLV land that it does in real life.
If you wouldn’t mind, please take a short second to write a review on whichever retailer you purchased Mess Me Up from. I’d love you forever.
As for what’s next? Linc and Conleigh’s book is going to be much more lighthearted than Mess Me up. I don’t think that my mom cried with it at all!
<3 Love you guys!
Lani
What’s Next?
Talkin’ Trash
Book 2 in the Bear Bottom Guardians MC
Release date: 10-2-18
Chapter 1
My step-day taught me about Jesus and pass interference.
-T-shirt
Conleigh
I watched with my heart in my throat as the ball was released from Lincoln James’, star quarterback of the Longview, Texas professional football team, hand.
The ball went into a perfect spiral, the absolute most perfect pass there ever was, only to stop short when the man who was supposed to catch it was slammed to the ground seconds before it hit his hands.
Everyone everywhere who loved the team like I did collectively groaned.
“Noooo!” I cried out, pissed off and outraged that the man didn’t catch the ball. “How could you do that?”
Then the buzzer sounded, and the season was over, just like that.
I prayed that they’d pan over to Linc so I could see him, make sure that he was all right, but the stupid cameraman panned to the coach, who looked pissed. Then to the little pissant who they called Joe Blow, but was really named Joe Hoyt, who really did look pissed off that he was sacked.
I immediately felt horrible for calling him a pissant, because he really was a great guy. And catching that ball really was impossible, especially with half of their team hurt and Joe the only logical choice to throw to since he’d been the only one to make actual plays tonight instead of fumble the damn ball.
I watched with avid fascination as the world went on around them, waiting for a glimpse or two of Linc.
However, none ever came, and I only realized when they were filming post-game interviews that Linc had straight up gone to the locker room and avoided all contact with everyone.
Not that I blamed him.
Linc was always a sore loser, and he’d told me before that he was forced to put on a happy face and play nice when he least wanted to.
My phone chimed on the chair beside me, and I smiled when I saw my mom’s name on the screen.
She’d put a sad face with huge fat tears on it, and I knew that she and my step-father, Steel, had been watching the game just as closely as I had been.
A couple of years ago, my mother wouldn’t be caught dead watching a football game—they reminded her too much of my former step-father—but now, she’d cuddle on the couch with her big, bad biker president and stay there for hours watching a game with him.
Me? I’d always loved the game of football. I loved it even more now that I got to watch Linc’s tight ass running around on the field. Though, he thought I hated it, and I allowed him to think I hated it.
Another text came in while I was replying with my own sad smiley face to my mother, and my heart started to pound.
Other things in my body started to act weird, too.
Like my vagina.
That thing was always betraying me.
Especially when it came to Linc James, my one-time boyfriend.
I say ‘one-time’ loosely, though. At one point, we’d discussed being more than friends, but then he’d gotten too big for his britches, so to speak, and had forgotten all about little old me.
Sure, he still texted every now and then, like right now, but it wasn’t like how it used to be when we’d talk every single night.
I always made it a point to reply to him.
Always.
But I was never overtly friendly.
I had to protect my heart, because I’d had it broken by one too many men over my short twenty-four years of life—my father, my first step-father, and then finally, Linc.
It couldn’t handle being broken again, especially a second time by Linc James, professional football player, and owner of many hearts—including my own.
Linc: You up?
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and replied.
Conleigh: Yep. Lots of homework to do. I’m not sure this nurse practitioner thing is for me.
I really was thinking that. The more that I studied, and the more I got away from the actual nursing part of nursing, the more I realized that maybe I’d made the wrong decision.
Originally my goal had been to become a doctor, but that would take way too long for me to accomplish, and on top of that, the required schooling was so intense that you couldn’t really work or do anything else while in school. In the end, I’d changed my major with a plan to possibly explore the option of becoming a doctor once I had established myself financially.
A long time ago, my mother, brother and I had been poor. And when I say poor, I mean the kind of poor where eating Ramen noodles once a week was a treat, and I was stealing shoes from the store for my baby brother. That kind of poor.
My mother wasn’t the one to doing that, by the way. I did.
But, as I got my bachelor’s degree in nursing and then pursued my Nurse Practitioner’s license, I only had one goal in mind—to never be poor again.
I didn’t want to be poor. I couldn’t handle being poor.
And the one thing I could do to ensure that I wasn’t was to educate myself and find a very well-paying job.
Linc: Then quit.
I rolled my eyes.
He’d told me that before.
Conleigh: I can’t just quit. Not everyone gets multi-million-dollar contracts to play football, you know. I have to pay my bills and my school loans.
School loans were scary to me. For someone who feared being in debt, putting thousands of dollars on credit to be paid after I finish my degree would be downright debilitating if I let myself think about it too hard.
Like right then.
Linc: You have a degree, from what I remember. You also have a job utilizing said degree where you make pretty good money. Or so my dad tells me. Why don’t you just keep doing that job? Your mom said that you liked it the last time I was over there.
I felt my stomach drop.
Linc still thought that I was in school to be a doctor.
He hadn’t realized that he’d gotten the wrong profession and hadn’t taken the time to learn the right one because he was too busy trying to “save my soul” by staying away from me.
At least, that was what I got from my mom. Mom was never one to pull punches with me, and from what her husband had told her, Linc thought he would hurt me, and in order not to do that, he stayed away even though he supposedly didn’t want to.
I called bullshit, but it wasn’t like I could force someone to be with me who didn’t want to be.
Just thinking about it made me angry, which was why I did what I did next.
Conleigh: Sorry you lost.
Linc: Night.
I chuckled at that.
Linc really didn’t like to lose. Even more, he hated being reminded of that loss.
Well, I didn’t like being reminded that he didn’t want to have anything to do with me, so there was that.
Instead of dwelling on it, like I usually did, I turned my focus to studying for my exam tomorrow, and tried not to think about how much I hated this class, as well as the subject that I was st
udying in general.
The next day dawned bright and early, and wouldn’t you know it, Linc’s face was the first thing I saw as I turned on Sports Center.
I immediately turned it off, and skipped my normal morning routine, knowing that if I saw Linc’s face again, I’d likely lose my shit.
Linc had a way about him. A way that made me lose my train of thought and caused me to forget that I was a grown ass adult and not a teenager with a crush on an older man who didn’t want her.
It’d been eight years since I’d met the man, but with the way I still felt and how much his rejection still stung, you would think it was yesterday.
***
Eight years ago
I was not happy to be here.
My mother had dragged me here instead of letting me hang out with my friends, and I was about as enthusiastic about going to this particular party as a person heading to the dentist for a root canal appointment.
Opening the door, I took a long look at the large house that we were entering and felt a tiny thrill coursing through me.
This house would have a lot of fancy stuff inside…fancy stuff that would likely get me a lot of money if I went and pawned it.
But then I mentally smacked myself.
I wasn’t stealing anymore.
Why wasn’t I stealing anymore? Because for one thing, Steel Cross, my mother’s man, would kick my ass. And, in addition, because I didn’t want to spend any time in jail if I could help it.
I was too soft. I’d probably die the first day on the inside.
“Conleigh?” my mother called. “Are you coming?”
I kept up a running dialogue about how much I didn’t want to be here as I kept my eyes down on the ground to make sure that I didn’t trip and make a complete fool of myself in front of all of these bikers.
I managed make it to the front door before it opened and walk inside unassisted—and without falling on my face like I was wont to do.
My eyes were searching the area when I saw him.
He was tall and younger than the other men here, but he had a beard that made him look way older.
I felt my heart stall inside my chest and felt the start of panic rising up.
I hadn’t dressed nice.
My mother hadn’t given me the time I normally needed to make myself presentable, and since I was told this was being held outside, I hadn’t bothered with anything more than jean shorts and a t-shirt that said ‘cheer’ across the breasts, though I hadn’t cheered a day in my life.
I swallowed thickly and turned away, following my mother and Steel into the very beautiful house.
But it didn’t have anything special about it. Though the outside was very nice, the inside made it seem more like a vacation rental rather than someone’s actual residence.
Which coincided with Steel’s explanation that this was their clubhouse—a place where they hung out, but rarely ever stayed at. The reason for today’s party was that a couple of men from other chapters were coming in for the week for some reason that I hadn’t been privy to.
I suddenly felt that feeling that one gets when someone is staring a hole through them. I quickly glanced around to see if I could pinpoint the source, coming to a stop at the man I’d been looking at earlier. The man with the beard…and tattoos.
My God, he had tattoos everywhere.
I felt my stomach dip as our gazes caught and felt something akin to terror start to course though my veins.
Then he started walking toward me, and my entire world tilted on its axis.
“Hi, I’m Linc.” The boy man with the beard held out his hand. “What’s your name?”
I swallowed warily. “Conleigh. My name is Conleigh.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Conleigh,” he replied.
“She’s sixteen, man,” I heard someone call from behind us. “Jail bait.”
Linc winked at me, then turned and walked away, unaware of how he’d just changed my entire life.
Mess Me Up Page 21
