Rough Rider 2: Bad Boy MC Romance (Fast Life)

by L. N. Pearl

  Marco followed me, and this time, he wasn’t alone. My heart sank even further, and adrenaline began pumping through me.

  He wasn’t going to let this go, was he?

  “I know I saw you with him,” he said, leaning on the display.

  There couldn’t have been more than a few inches between us. He nauseated me, and made it worse when I felt his hand on my hair.

  “Don’t touch me,” I hissed, turning my head away.

  “Ouch. Tough girl, huh?” he laughed, his eyes traveling up and down my body.

  I looked him straight in the eye this time, staring defiantly at him. He couldn’t scare me. I knew what a disgusting coward he was.

  “Oh, right. Now I remember you,” I sneered. “You’re the loser who cheated to win the race.”

  “What did you just call me?” Marco touched my arm, running his hand up and down.

  I didn’t move, for fear that his stroking caress would become a death grip.

  “You heard me,” I said. “Now get your hand off me.”

  Jerking my arm back, I walked away, but he stopped me, cutting me off and backing me into another display.

  “Come on. Why you gotta be so nasty? A hot thing like you? I bet I could make you feel real friendly…”

  He stroked my cheek, and I gagged before slapping his hand away.

  Then, the one and only thing I remembered from my old self-defense lessons from Dad rang clear as a bell in my head—the elbow is the strongest point on the body.

  With that in mind, I brought my elbow up to his face as hard as I could, in a quick jerking motion.

  I knew I didn’t hurt him badly, but it was enough to make him stagger back.

  Maggie had stood up and walked over to us. I took her hand and pulled her out of the store with me.

  “In the car, quick!” I cried out, and we ran for it.

  I wanted to put as much distance between us and Marco as possible.

  Chapter 6 - Tyler

  After the close call with Trinity, it would have made sense if I’d spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about her.

  I’d been thinking about her non-stop for days, after all. I imagined what might have happened if I hadn’t stopped the bike from hitting her.

  I thought about her beautiful face all cut up, bones broken…and it made me sick to my stomach.

  I didn’t spend too much time on that, though. After a little while, I could only think about Drake. I had to figure out what the deal with him was.

  Why did he lie to me? How much did he know about Angela?

  I had to find out, and I would be able to tell if he was still lying. I’d always been able to see through him.

  He would be at work when I got off. He was a line cook at a diner—it was gritty, dirty work, and it was perfect for him. He didn’t have to do much talking with people that way.

  Sometimes I wondered if people would still want to eat the food they were served in restaurants if they knew who was cooking it for them.

  When I got to the diner after work, I asked for him. It was a slow time, before dinner, so I thought he might have time for a talk.

  I was right. He came out, wiping his hands on his apron.

  “What’s up, man?”

  “Not much,” I said. “I was walking by on my way home, and thought I would come say hi. Maybe get something to eat. You know Gigi loves the pie here.”

  “Yeah, some fresh ones just came out of the oven. I’ll grab one you can take home before you go,” he grinned.

  Gigi was probably the only female in the world he actually liked and respected.

  “Thanks. She’ll love the sugar high…and I’ll think of you when she’s bouncing off the walls.”

  We both laughed a little. I didn’t want to believe that my friend, who I could sit and laugh with, would do something as terrible as what I was thinking.

  “You know, I was wondering something the other day, when I saw you with that new girl—what’s her name? Jessie, something like that?”

  “Yeah, Jessie,” he said, then he shrugged, “What about her?”

  “You like her?”

  “She’s good while she lasts. You know? That’s all. I was thinking about dumping her actually. Why?”

  That was how he felt about all the girls he was with. They were good to fuck for a while until he got tired of them.

  Did he feel that way about Angela? Was that why he got rid of her? I was careful not to show him what I was thinking.

  “She made me think of Angela. Isn’t that random? Do you ever hear anything from her?”

  His face went blank, like stone. “No. We split months ago, remember? I told you that.”

  In a matter of moments, he changed, just like that. The fun was over. We weren’t just talking like two friends, now. He was closing himself off to me.

  “She was cool. I remember when we used to hang out together, you know?”

  “Yeah. You’re the one who introduced us,” he reminded me.

  Fuck me, I thought in despair. He was right. I had forgotten that.

  I’d met her at one of our parties, and had started talking to her—she was alone, and she seemed a little scared.

  At first, I thought I would pick her up, of course. She was hot. But once I started talking to her I knew she wasn’t like that.

  Then, Drake came up to us, and I introduced them. Shit. I wished I had never noticed her, never told her Drake’s name.

  I saw from the way she looked at him, in that first moment, that she liked him. It all started there.

  “I liked her a lot. She was a good girl,” Drake admitted.

  I watched him close, and I saw the way his eyes changed when he talked about her. He knew how special she was. I guessed he had that going for him, at least.

  Keep it casual, I reminded myself. I couldn’t let him know how interested I was.

  “What happened between you guys? I mean, if she was so good and you had fun together. Why did you let her go?”

  “It wasn’t all my decision, you know,” he said. “She had a choice, too.”

  “So, what? She chose to leave?”

  He nodded, and he looked bitter, “Yeah…she was too good for me.”

  I couldn’t argue with him. Drake was my best friend, but he was also kind of an asshole. I could see how a girl like Angela would get sick of his bullshit pretty fast.

  “She wanted too much,” he added.

  Now he was whining, like a baby. No—even Gigi didn’t whine like that.

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugged, looking miserable.

  “She was so picky. Things always had to be her way. I couldn’t talk to other girls. If I went more than one fucking day between phone calls, she’d get all pissy with me. She wanted me to dress nicer and act nicer. I wasn’t good enough. She wanted to change me.”

  “That sucks. I guess it was hard to be with her, then. Makes sense you broke up.”

  Drake liked to keep it simple. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am, like the saying went. As soon as a girl wanted more—like, to ask him to stop being a slob—he was outta there.

  Poor Angela. She must have been so hurt by the way he treated her.

  “I got tired of her bullshit, you know? It’s not supposed to be that hard. If I wanted to get nagged, I’d live with my mom.”

  I snorted. Like his mom gave a shit about him. But I got his point.

  “So you dumped her?”

  “Yeah. But she wanted to leave, anyway.”

  I tried not to look surprised or skeptical. “What do you mean?”

  “She was talking about moving to LA, she wanted to be an actress. Take classes, that kind of thing. She was pretty enough, for sure. She had that look, you know?”

  I thought of what I remembered from her, and thought of Trinity, too. “Yeah, I know.”

  I didn’t believe a word he was saying. For one thing, Trinity never said a word about her sister wanting to be an actress, or move to Los Angeles.
r />   With all that she had told me about her that night, it would have made sense if she’d included that. It was sort of a big deal.

  It was more than that, though. Drake never opened up the way he just had with me, ever.

  He didn’t give a shit about the lives of the girls he was with. He wouldn’t have asked Angela what she wanted to do with her life, what her dreams were.

  And if she’d ever tried to tell him, he wouldn’t have listened or remembered, especially months later.

  He only cared about what he could get at the moment, and that was usually pussy. Once he got it, he was on to the next girl. Even if he got the details about a girl, he never shared them with me.

  Ever.

  This time, he was almost begging to share. I hardly had to ask him anything, and he was spilling his guts.

  He looked me in the eye the entire time, too. Like he was trying too hard to convince me he was telling the truth.

  But he had a signal…a dead giveaway. He didn’t know I knew about it, which helped me kick his ass in poker almost every time we played.

  He would touch his nose whenever he hid something. I never told him, of course, because I used it to tell when he was lying to me.

  His hand had touched his nose so many times when he was talking just now, he might as well have left it there.

  He was fucking lying to me. Right to my face, like our friendship didn’t matter. Like Angela’s life didn’t matter.

  I was enraged. I could have killed him right there, and not thought twice about it, I was so pissed.

  He’d never lied to me about something so important before, which told me there must be something even bigger he was hiding.

  He didn’t just know what happened to Angela. He probably had something to do with it. That bastard.

  I did my best to hide how mad I was, but it must have shown on my face.

  “What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?” he asked, looking at me like I had two heads.

  “Nothing.”

  Stay cool, I thought. Don’t let him know. If he knew I was suspicious, anything could happen.

  He laughed, “Whatever. You’ve got a hair up your ass. What is it?”

  I looked away, “Nothing. Leave it alone.”

  “I know you better than that. You can’t lie to me. Something’s got you all tensed up.”

  I looked back at him, and saw the way he sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

  His face was smug. “Maybe you should go fuck somebody to chill out a little.”

  My eyes snapped to his, “Excuse me?”

  “You know. Maybe that cute little piece of ass you had at the race with you. What was her name? Trinity? I bet she’s a hot fuck. So, you had any of that yet? Wanna share?”

  Something snapped inside me and I couldn’t stop myself. I jumped out of my chair and took Drake by the collar, then punched him in the face.

  I was still holding onto him, and jerked him close to me. So close I spit all over him when I spoke.

  “Don’t you ever talk about her that way again. You hear me? Ever!”

  I shoved him away, still furious. I couldn’t believe he’d had the nerve. Who was he? Had I ever really known him?

  He lied about Angela right to my face, then disrespected Trinity. It was like he didn’t have a conscience, like a psychopath or something.

  I straightened myself out and sat back down. I heard the few customers scattered around the diner murmuring over what happened, but I ignored them.

  They had no idea how much worse it could have been.

  Drake held one hand to the side of his face, pulling it away now and then to look at it.

  “You’re not bleeding,” I snarled.

  “What the fuck was that for?” He actually looked surprised, which was almost funny to me.

  He was a good actor. Maybe he should have been the one to go to LA. Maybe Angela would still be alive.

  Jesus Christ, Tyler. Was I really thinking he killed her?

  “I don’t like you talking about her like that,” I said. “That’s all. She deserves better than that. She’s not like the other girls we’re always around.”

  “Right. I’m sure she has a gold-plated pussy,” he smirked.

  “I warned you. One more shitty comment and I’ll keep on punching next time.”

  He held his hands up, like he was surrendering to me.

  “Fine, fine. I just have to wonder, what’s the big deal about her? Like, what is it that makes her so special? She’s just a fucking chick.”

  “She’s not!” I lost my cool, and I knew I shouldn’t have said it, but I couldn’t stop myself. “She’s Angela’s sister, asshole.”

  I saw what looked like surprise on Drake’s face, but I couldn’t be sure.

  How could he have missed the way they looked so much alike? He had to be blind, or just stupid. I wasn’t sure which.

  Then, his eyes narrowed. Like he understood what I’d been getting at all along, when I first asked him about Angela.

  It didn’t matter. He told me everything I needed to know.

  I left the diner after that, without another word to him. I couldn’t look at him anymore. He could go to hell, for all I cared at that moment.

  Gigi would have to get her sugar high some other way besides eating pie from there. I didn’t even want to touch anything he touched, that was how much he’d pissed me off.

  I had to tell Trinity about Angela, about Drake. About me, and how I knew her sister before she died.

  How I might have been the reason she died, by introducing her to my best friend. She deserved to know.

  I dreaded seeing the look on her face when I told her—I knew it would hurt to hear it.

  But I owed it to her to tell her what I now knew had to be the truth.

  Chapter 7 - Trinity

  “Are you gonna tell me who that guy was, or are you just trying to drive me crazy?”

  I was shaky, unable to speak right away. How dare he touch me?

  I felt so dirty now, just the way he’d wanted me to feel. He had wanted to degrade me, to bring me down to his level…but I was better than that.

  I wished I could take a shower, immediately. It was like I could feel his fingerprints on me.

  “Who was he, Trinity?” Maggie’s panicked voice echoed through the car.

  “That was Marco. Charming guy, huh?”

  “Marco? Who the heck is that?”

  I explained to her who he was, and what he had done during the race. I watched her, and saw the way her nose wrinkled in distaste.

  “What a loser,” she declared after I’d finished speaking. “So they were harassing you because of Tyler then, right?”

  I could only nod miserably.

  “So it was all his fault that happened. Right? Otherwise, they would have left you alone.”

  “That’s not fair,” I said. “Tyler and I aren’t dating. And Tyler didn’t pick a fight with him. He’s pissed because everyone knows he cheated. Tyler is his biggest rival, and he doesn’t want to lose face. He wants to shake him up. Tyler didn’t instigate anything. In fact,” I added after a pause, “he could have fought him after the race, but he didn’t.”

  “Which probably drove that creep even crazier, that Tyler took the high road,” Maggie observed glumly.

  “Exactly!” I wanted so much for her to believe Tyler was one of the good guys.

  I couldn’t forget the way he kissed me earlier that day, or how excited I was at the idea of being with him that night.

  She had to understand how I felt. I needed someone on my side.

  “But you see,” Maggie insisted, “things like this are happening to you, and like you said, you’re not even dating yet. What happens if things get more serious between you? Don’t think the guy didn’t probably get into serious trouble before you two met. Who knows how many enemies he’s made?”

  I hated to admit to myself that she was right. The idea bothered me, too. I didn’t want to be
pulled into that side of his life.

  I just wanted to be with him, like two normal people. Was that so much to ask?

  “Do me one favor, since you’re determined to be a pain in the ass about this and won’t listen to me.”

  “What?”

  She smiled and glanced my way. “Let me come with you next time you go to a race.”

  “What, like my bodyguard?” I smirked.

  “Yeah. Call it that. Whatever. I’d feel better knowing I was there with you.”

  I appreciated the thought…but then remembered the way Tyler protected me from the guy on the bicycle earlier in the day.

  He was such a badass. He could even stop a moving bicycle without flinching. That guy had been pretty big, too. It didn’t matter. Tyler had practically made him cry.

  “I think Tyler has my back,” I said.

  “Yeah, but he can’t be with you all the time,” she pointed out. “When he’s racing? He’s not going to be protecting you from people like that Marco sleazebag and his nasty friends. Get it?”

  I got it. She was right. I hated thinking of myself as being vulnerable—I’d always prided myself on being able to take care of business.

  But I was in over my head, now. These weren’t the sort of people I normally dealt with. They had no rules.

  I nodded slowly “Got it. Okay. You can tag along next time.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  ***

  That night, I ate dinner alone at home…like I normally did. Well, like I’d been doing for the last six months or so.

  I had never felt alone when Angela was alive. She was always around.

  We made it a point to have dinner together as much as possible—when we were kids it was a family tradition.

  I had always felt sorry for people whose families ate separately. They missed out on so much, I thought.

  The four of us would come together and talk about the day. Angela and I were always talking over one another, trying to get the most attention.

  That was when Mom was still around. Then, after she left—and once Dad got over it—we started eating together again.

  Angela did her best to keep the mood light. She asked questions and made jokes. She worked her butt off to keep us happy. And it worked. I was happy just spending time with her.