I don’t blame them for that.
“Meadow? You in here?”
I lift my eyes to see Colt walking into Lady’s living room. I’m sitting, staring out the window with my hands on my belly, like I do most days. I give him what used to be a smile, and he takes a seat beside me, his gaze searching my face.
“It’s been so hard around the club lately, so we thought tonight; we’d do a cook-out. We’re just tryin’ to piece together what was broken. I want you to come.”
I shake my head. “No thank you.”
He reaches out, taking my hand. “You know I’m not going to force you, Meadow, but I need you to try for me. You have to try. You can’t live your life sitting here.”
My eyes grow hard. I can feel them. “What will you have me do, Colt? Pretend like he’s not trapped and probably being tortured? Pretend like his baby isn’t growing in my belly?”
His eyes fill with guilt. “Shit, no, of course not. I just...I’m just trying to help.”
I squeeze his hand weakly. “And you know I am grateful for it, but I’m not ready to face the club. I can’t...I can’t go there if he’s not there. Not right now. I’m barely holding it together. I’m sorry, Colt.”
“I get it,” he says, leaning back in the chair. “Every day I walk in there. Feels like my heart’s being ripped out.”
My eyes burn with unshed tears. “It doesn’t get easier,” I say, in a weak voice.
“No, it doesn’t.”
I lean into him, and he wraps an arm around me. The other hand rests on my tiny baby bump. “How’s this one going?”
Colt has been super-supportive of me since the day I found out I was pregnant. He dragged me to the doctors; got me my prenatal vitamins, and made sure I had everything I needed. Without him, I would have crumbled.
“She’s okay. I think I felt her move the other day, but I can’t be sure.”
He smiles, but his eyes are sad. “I’m glad. I have to get going; I just wanted to check in on you while I was going past. Are you okay? Do you have everything you need?”
“I do,” I say in a weak, strained voice.
He nods at me, flashes me a sorry smile, and then leaves. I’m used to it. I know I’m not easy for them to deal with. They never know what to say, or how to act around me, and I can’t blame them. This is the easier way.
For everyone.
~*~*~*~
MEADOW
I lift the washing basket, and walk out the front door. A light drizzle of rain has begun to fall. I walk down the front steps, holding the overly full basket, and heading out to the back washing house where there’s an indoor clothesline. My hair sticks to my face in seconds, and my entire body breaks out in a shiver.
It takes me a moment to realize that shiver is a feeling of unease. I glance around, unable to see anything through the mist.
Is someone here?
My heart begins to speed up, and I back up toward the house. That’s when I hear the sounds of boots crunching. Oh, no. Has Beast come back for me? Fear pulsates through me as I turn, and head back toward the stairs, rushing as fast as I can. When I reach the bottom step, I hear the broken, crackled voice. “Stop.”
It can’t be.
My entire body stops working, and slowly, I turn, feeling my knees already beginning to wobble. Out of the mist steps a dark figure. As he nears closer, his features become clearer. Aqua eyes are all I see before my knees give way, and I go down with the washing basket. A ragged cry leaves my throat as reality hits me hard, and for a moment, I wonder if I’m hallucinating.
It’s Axel.
I feel arms wrap around me, and a hand takes my chin, tilting my head up. I can’t see him through the rain and the tears, but I can smell him. Only one man smells that way. In a pitiful voice, I cry out his name, and press my hands against his chest. I’m sure this isn’t real. I feel a steady, pounding heart beneath his shirt. I also feel that he’s lost a lot of weight. Slowly we begin moving up, until we’re on our feet. I blink rapidly; needing to make sure this is real.
Then I see his face, and a strangled cry wrenches from my throat. It’s him. It’s really him. He’s here, standing in front of me. His face is slightly sunken, and he’s got fading bruises, but there’s no missing those eyes. I lift a trembling hand, and I stroke his heavily stubbled cheek. He closes his eyes, and his hand goes up, covering mine.
“It...you’re...you’re...I didn’t know if you were dead, or alive, I...” I rasp.
“I’m here, I’m here,” he murmurs, his voice crackly.
“B-b-b-but...”
My voice breaks, and I begin to sob again. Axel’s hands slide down over me, as if he’s checking I’m all there. When his hands slide over my belly, he stops moving. His eyes lift up to mine, and in them I see a question. I nod weakly, trying to smile between sobs. He drops to his knees, suddenly, heavily. I hear him thump onto the ground before his hands cup my belly, and he presses his face against it.
This only makes me cry harder.
I tangle my fingers into his hair, feeling his body shaking with emotion. Then he wraps his arms around me, and I take his head in my hands, holding him with everything I am. He slowly slides up my body, and envelopes me in a hug so tight, and so warm that it takes my breath away. I cling to him, never wanting to let him go, but not understanding if this is real or if I’ve completely lost my mind.
“Are you real?” I whisper.
“I’m real. I’m here.”
He slowly pulls away from me, and takes my hand, leading me up the front stairs and inside the house. The minute we get into the light, I see him. Really see him. His clothes are hanging on his frame, and his skin is pale. He has bruises up his arms, and dark, angry red scars around his wrists. His eyes have fading bruises, and his lip has been split a lot, because a jagged scar runs down the bottom left corner. His cheeks are sunken, and his eyes are dull. But it’s him.
He steps forward, and swipes a tear from underneath my eye as I sob wildly. I clutch his hands, and meet his eyes. “What happened?”
He takes me over to the couch, and pulls us both down. Then he wraps me in another hug, squeezing me until I can’t breathe. His hands are on my belly again, his fingers lightly grazing the bulge. “How far?” he croaks.
“I’m nearly four months.”
His eyes show a sparkle of light when he looks back up at me. I reach across, touching his sunken cheeks that are covered in rubble. “I was starting to think you were dead, but I didn’t want to give up,” I whisper.
“I know, baby,” he says, looking away.
“He sent me a photo, and...”
“I know,” he grinds out, cutting me off. “I know what he did. I heard you scream on the phone...”
“H-h-h-how? Oh God, Axel. We left you there...we...we thought...”
He presses a finger to my lips. “Hush, you didn’t leave me. I know the guys didn’t stop looking for me. I know you didn’t stop looking for me.”
“But we didn’t find you.”
He shakes his head. “I’m here now. The rest doesn’t matter.”
“How did you get out?”
He tucks me into his arm, and then begins speaking in a low, heavy voice. “Raide got me. He found out my location, and he took most of the club down, killing a majority of them. The rest he took into custody. He didn’t plan on killing them, but when he found my location, he made sure he had full re-enforcement. He knew Beast would come out, guns ready, and he did. He shot at them the minute they arrived, but Raide was prepared. He pulled me out.”
Raide saved him. My heart swells.
“W-w-what did Beast do to you, Axel?”
He looks me in the eye. “Nothing he didn’t do before. Only this time there were no girls, just beatings. He could have killed me when he told you I was dead, but he enjoyed watching me suffer and starve. I’m only sorry I didn’t pull the trigger that exploded his brains.”
I take his hand, squeezing it. “I’m so sorry.”
&n
bsp; “Don’t you say sorry to me, Cricket,” he says into my hair. “Never say sorry.”
“The photo?” I croak.
“He shot me twice, and just as I threw my head back and opened my mouth to wail in pain, he took the photo. He was going to send it as a torture picture, to make sure you all gave him the USB, only he found out I had it on me, and decided the photo would work to prove I was dead. It was a freak shot; he got lucky.”
It was a freak photo? My mind spins, and I shake my head over and over. Axel shifts in the chair, and leans down, cupping my face.
“The only thing I saw in that place was you, Cricket. You saved me; you kept me fighting. I realized what a complete fuck-head I’ve been, when faced with the reality that I might never see you again. I don’t care what happens from now. I want you, and I’ll make you mine. I’ll cherish the fucking ground you walk on. I love you, Meadow. I should have told you sooner.”
I feel tears tumble down my cheeks again. “I love you too,” I croak.
“Then marry me, don’t waste another moment away from me.”
I nod, cupping his face, and pressing my lips gently to his. He kisses me softly, before pulling back and looking into my eyes.
“You saved me. You gave me hope when I had none left. You’re the reason I kept breathing, Cricket. The reason I kept fighting instead of giving up. I won’t live another moment of my life without you by my side. From this moment on, I claim you. I swear to everything I have inside that I’ll take care of you, and our baby. I’ll love you until the day I’m a bunch of ashes in the ground.”
I smile, and make a loud hiccupping sound. “Don’t you worry about that, biker,” I laugh and choke at the same time. “I’m never letting you go again.”
A small, weak smile plays across his lips. “If you ever run from me,” he murmurs, leaning down to my ear. “I’ll chase you, and I’ll always find you. You belong to me now.”
My smile gets bigger, and my eyes twinkle. “Damn right I do.”
EPILOGUE
COBRA
There’s no room for two.
Her eyes meet mine from across the room, and a wobbly smile spreads across her lips. I return it, only mine is harder, far more gruff. We lock gazes, and she knows as well as I do that there’s something here. Since the moment she walked into the club, all broken and fragile, she called to me. The minute I saw those feral yellow eyes, and she clutched my hand in fear when I took her to her room, I knew she was mine.
Even if that was wrong.
Then Jax came into the picture. Seems he felt the same pull. Now she looks at us both with confusion, and deep lust. Her eyes travel longingly over my body, but they light up when he walks in the room. We’re the yin and yang, the complete opposite to each other. He’s the good, I’m the bad, but she’s the line in the middle. She wants a little something of both, and I can already see how this situation will end.
Badly.
I get out of my chair anyway, walking toward her. The minute I stop in front of her, I see the flush fill her cheeks. She pulls that plump little bottom lip between her teeth, and those cat’s eyes lock on mine. I give her a lazy half-grin, and her flush deepens. “Hi, Cobra,” she murmurs, looking at the tattoo on my neck. Now, her cheeks are flaming red.
“How you doin’, darlin’?”
“I’m doing real well,” she says, meeting my gaze.
“You bein’ treated well?”
She nods, quickly. “Always.”
I nod, letting my gaze slide over her long, slender body. “Seems you’re gettin’ comfortable in my club?”
She darts her eyes around, like I’ve just insulted her. “I’m sorry...I...”
I lean in closer. “I never said it was a bad thing.”
She trembles, and lifts her face so we’re nearly nose-to-nose. “You don’t mind me being here?”
“Makes my fuckin’ day.”
She swallows, and her eyes drop onto my lips. Fuck, I want to lean down and claim those lips, kissing her until she moans my name.
“Ivy?”
She flinches at the sound of her name, and I grumble low in my chest, lifting myself up straight to see Jax walking in. Ivy smiles, her eyes lighting up when she sets her gaze on him.
“Jax,” she breathes.
He grins, stopping beside her. He flashes me a warning expression, an expression that says she’s mine. We’ll fuckin’ see about that. I take a step back, watching him help her off the stool.
“You ready?”
“Where you goin’?” I snap.
Ivy looks up at me, and a flash of guilt crosses her pretty features. “We’re just going for a ride,” she says.
I nod, because there’s nothing else I can do. I’m not going to make a song and fucking dance in the middle of the club. Jax gives me one more hard glare before taking Ivy’s hand, and leading her out the door.
Fuck; just fuck.
I want her, he wants her, but the cold hard truth is...
Only one of us can win.
THE END
Now the prologue from my newest book due out March 2014 – NUMBER THIRTEEN.
Please note – This book won’t be a BDSM romance, but it will be quite dark!
PROLOGUE
My boots crunch in the yellow autumn leaves as I walk towards the school yard. I didn’t want to come today, but Momma told me I had no choice. She said school is for smart kids, and if I don’t, then how am I ever going to get smart? I could get smart, the man on the television tells me everything I need to know. But she claims that I can’t make friends with the man on the television, that the only way to make friends, is to go to school. I could have told her that I don’t need friends to be successful, but she’d only tell me I’m being silly.
So I came to school.
I didn’t tell her that there are bullies here, that every day they push me around and shove me into lockers. That would make me sound weak, and now that my dad is working, and my brother is in college, I’ve had to be the man of the house. There’s no room for weak. Momma tells me bullies pick on the kids who are victims. I think she’s wrong. I’m not a victim, I’m just a kid. They pick on me because I’m different. I don’t look at the girls like they do; I don’t try to sneak out to parties. I’m just there to learn, then I go home and I take care of my family, because, I’m the man of the house.
Like I said.
The shrill sound of the school bell ringing, tells me I’m late. I pick up into a jog, rounding the corner and into the school yard. It’s a cool winter day, and I have to pinch my coat together to stop it from flapping in the icy breeze. I can see the students piling in the front doors, and I turn my jog into a run. I’m focusing so heavily on the doors, that I don’t see them. A strong hand lashes out, catching hold of my sleeve and tugging me into the alley way that runs down beside my school.
I always knew this alley was dangerous.
My body is slammed against a hard wooden fence, and I set eyes on my bullies. Four of them. They’re all bigger than me, all of them on the football team. They’re in the grade up, and they’ve just turned sixteen. The leader of the group, Marcel, steps forward first. He scrunches his nose in disgust, as if I’ve just dragged myself out of a gutter, as if I’m offending him. He leans in close, and I can smell cigarettes on his breath.
Smoking is not cool.
“You’ve been trying to avoid me, Will. Did you really think you could hide at home with mommy, and never have to come out again?”
I stare at him, wondering why he chose me to pick on. I didn’t even know his name until he flagged me down and shoved my head down a toilet six months ago. I was just a kid, keeping my head down, studying and learning like I should. Now here I am, pressed against a fence, wondering why they decided I was good enough to take extra special effort to attack. I don’t bother answering him; it’ll only make him worse. My answers won’t make a difference. If I answer, I’m wrong. If I don’t answer, I’m wrong.
“Are you fucking mute,
you little cunt?”
My body jerks. I hate that word, it’s so...vulgar. I let my eyes move to the four other guys standing like protective pack animals around Marcel. I don’t know their names, they’re not significant enough. The tall boy with orange hair looks nervous, like he knows what’s about to happen could put him in a world of trouble, but he’s still here, still making the choice to stay. The other two guys are stony faced, and fully aware of their part in this attack.
I still don’t answer him. If I just let them beat me, it’ll go away quicker.
“You’re a freak, Will, do you know that?” Marcel hisses, leaning in closer.
Of course I know that. I wouldn’t be pinned against a fence if I didn’t know that.
Bullies are so dumb.
Marcel raises his fist, and brings it down over my face, cracking my nose so hard blood spurts onto his shirt. I don’t cry out, because that’s what he wants, but the pain radiating through my head is nearly enough to make me beg. Nearly. Marcel takes hold of my shirt, and his grey eyes scan my face. He’s panting, as though I’ve shoved him into an alley and challenged him. Like this is my fault. The world is twisted like that, and it’s a lesson I’ve learned the hard way.
“You know,” he growls, locking eyes with me. “I heard my girl saying how handsome you were the other day. Do you know how much it sucks to have my girl saying that a freak, is handsome?”
No, I don’t. I don’t have a girl.
Again, bullies are dumb.
“Don’t answer me, you little twerp. It doesn’t matter. I will make sure by the time you leave this alley, you’re not handsome anymore. I won’t have my competition being some little weasel that can’t even speak.”
I taste blood filling my mouth, and my nose is pounding so heavily I’m almost sure I can hear my own heart in my head. I don’t take my eyes from Marcel. They say look danger right in the eye; it gives you power and strength. I don’t feel powerful right now, in fact, I don’t really feel anything. Someone like me doesn’t fight, I’m the underdog, and underdogs are weak. Everyone knows it.
Born to Ride Page 51
