Broken: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel

by Natasha Thomas

  It’s not uncommon for us to go a while between talking to each other, but this time he’s gone a bit longer than normal. As if he’d been telepathically linked into my train of thought, my phone lights up with his name.

  “Hey, fucker. Long-time no hear, brother. What’s doing?”

  “Not a whole hell of a lot, asshole,” He says around a chuckle.

  “Where you at these days? Still in Indiana?” As I said, the man gets around, and that’s not only with the revolving door of women coming and going from his bed.

  “Nah, on my way to your neck of the woods actually. Was calling to see if there’s any work going in those parts.” His tone is off. Most people mightn’t pick up on it, but I do.

  “Not that I don’t want to see you, brother, but in all the years we’ve kept in contact you haven’t been out this way, why now?” I’m curious because it’s true. We’ve met up in random holes in the wall where he’s been working if I’ve been passing through, and we’ve both caught up in Denver a time or two, but we haven’t actually lived in the same place since we were fifteen.

  “Need a change, T. And I figure it’s about time I meet the little lady that’s got your boxers in a twist. From the way you tell it, she’s fucking fine, and I want to see for myself whether she’s worthy of my brother.” Bullshit he does. He wants to check out Lex’s tits and ass, and see if he wants a crack at her himself. Not. Going. To. Happen.

  “Go fuck yourself, asshole. You’re not getting within ten-feet of my Lex with all that freaky I-can-get-any-woman-I-want mojo you’ve got going on.”

  Laughing he replies,

  “Have no fear, buddy. I don’t want to get between whatever you’ve got going on with this chick.” I don’t interrupt him, but I feel my blood start to boil at him calling Lex some chick. She’s so much more than just a chick, she’s everything to me. “Anyway, we both know if I wanted her I could have her. It’s all in the dimples, man.”

  Rolling my eyes I let him think what he wants, there’s no convincing him otherwise.

  “Sure Rob, whatever you say. So you going to cut the shit and tell me the real reason why you’re headed this way, or are we going to keep shooting the shit until you find your balls and spit it out?”

  “Fucking prick,” he says with no anger behind his words. “My balls are firmly attached where they’ve always been, thanks for asking. Truth T, I need a change, and seeing as I haven’t seen your stupid ass in months I thought Blackwater would be a good a place as any to land for a bit.”

  I’m still not buying it, but that’s the best explanation I’m going to get for the time being so I let it be.

  “When are you due in? You’re planning on staying at mine I take it?”

  Huffing he says,

  “Yeah, that was the plan. You got anything going on that that’d be a problem? No gorgeous young things staying at yours?”

  I know he’s fishing, he’s doing a fucking pathetic job at hiding it, which means he wants me to know he’s digging for dirt. Rob is good at many things, one of which being finding out everyone’s dirty secrets without really trying, covertly too. I might tell him most things, but sharing what’s going on with Lex, I don’t think so, not this time. I need time to work this shit out in my head before I pick Rob’s brain for advice. Not that he’d be a huge help anyway, the man goes through more women than Reaper used to before Ade.

  “Nothing doing here. And for fucks sake, when you meet Lex keep your fucking mouth shut, and your hands to yourself.” I’m serious too. If the asshole tries any of his usual moves on my girl I’ll kick his ass from here straight back to Indiana.

  “Sure, asshole. I’ll just ignore her when she says hello, and walk around with my hands taped behind my back then, good plan.” Chuckling again he adds, “I’ll be there day after tomorrow. I don’t have much other than a couple of duffels, my bike that’s on the trailer hitched to my truck. You got room for me to park this thing?”

  “I’ll make room, you know that. I’ll ask down at Rough Shod if they’re hiring, but I know they’re always on the lookout so I don’t think you’ll have much drama getting work.”

  With the usual goodbyes, and his promise to actually show up this time I lean back on the couch and take a deep breath. I’m conflicted every time I talk to Rob, every time I actually see the man I consider my brother is worse. It brings up old memories. Ones I don’t want to think about. One I don’t want rattling around in my already fucked up head. Half the time I wish he’d lose my number, stop calling altogether. Those times I mentally kick my own ass, telling myself it’s not his fault, he had nothing to do with what happened to me; he simply represents a fucked up past I don’t want any part of.

  The other half of the time I’d give my right arm for Rob to live closer, be closer. It’s not like I don’t have people here, family here that care about me, I do. The club, my brothers, my friends, Tilly and Lex, until recently, are all great, but they have no idea about my past. No idea the horrors Rob and I lived through. And if it’s up to me, they never will.

  I still have fucking nightmares about a couple of the foster homes I’d been in. They are nearly as vivid as if I’m living through them all over again when I wake up covered in sweat, practically begging the demons in my head, in my memories to stop. A shrink I talked to, out of respect for Sheila seeing as she was the one who made the appointment, told me that stress and change in circumstances will probably trigger the nightmares into reoccurring, coming more frequently. At the time I thought he was full of shit, nothing could make them worse. I was wrong again.

  The nightmares, more than that, how I reacted, how I woke up from the nightmares is one of the main reasons I know I’m not good enough for Lex. She deserves everything that’s good and clean in life, not someone broken, scarred, tainted like me.

  I decided early on to keep the shit that happened in the past to myself. I don’t feel the need to share it with my brothers around a camp fire singing, and roasting marshmallows. The only person who knows the extent of what I went through is Rob, and the reason for that is because he was there, he heard it, saw it, suffered through it himself. That shit created a bond between us, and I trust him with it. I trust him with my deepest, darkest, most damaging memories.

  Rob’s never said a word to anyone about his own issues, which is how I know he won’t whisper a word of what went on. And while I’d love to unload, just spill my guts to Lex, and make her understand why she could do so much better than me, I don’t. And I don’t because I’m a selfish fuck.

  Regardless of my faults and hang-ups, of which there are many, I don’t want Lex viewing me as weak. I don’t want her to see me as anything than the man who has taken care of her, looked out for her, made sure she was safe all these years. I don’t want her knowing the darker side of my history, what’s made me the man I am today. Most of all I don’t want her to look at me with pity or sadness in those beautiful blue eyes of hers.

  So with Rob coming to town, I know I’ve got to get the tightness in my chest, the panic rising in my head under control, because the last thing I need is Lex to see through a weak as fuck façade I put on and call me out on it. She’s done it before, but I can’t have her doing it again, because this time, with the way things are between us, I won’t be able to lie to her. Lex sees into the heart of me, and I don’t need her dredging shit up she can’t, and I don’t want her to handle. This is my baggage, and I’ll be damned if I let my girl take on my pain I should’ve locked down.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Alexis

  “My patience is wearing thin. And by ‘wearing thin’ I mean, you are one

  Smart-ass comment away from being bitch slapped so hard,

  Google won’t be able to find you…”

  Rotten eCards

  It’s funny, everyone thought Saint was the dark horse, the one that had something lurking behind his eyes and quick smile that should have little kids running and screaming for safety. Now I know they were wrong, everyone w
as wrong. I’m not saying Saint doesn’t have his own internal monsters to fight, I’m sure he does, but Glock, he’s the one the little kids should have been truly frightened of. Why you ask? Because Glock is as charming as they come. He lures you into a false sense of security before he shows his true colors.

  As a child I thought the sun shone because of Glock. My days were brighter with him in them, and as I grew up that didn’t change. I looked forward to the time I spent with him, the movie nights, when he took me for rides on his bike, picked me up from school, I looked forward to seeing him smile. It wasn’t until the naivety of adolescence wore off, and I began to see him for what he really was that his shine dulled a little.

  I say a little because if I’m honest with myself, nothing could take away from what Glock means to me. I love him with everything in me. As my friend, my protector, and the way a woman in love loves her man. I might not be well versed in the ways of the world, I’m not long nineteen, but what I know, all I know, is that I’ll love Glock until I take my last breath.

  In saying that, it doesn’t mean he’s any good for me. Not because deep down underneath all the bullshit and bravado he’s not a good man, he is. And not because he’s not everything I’ve dreamed of, because he’s that too. No, Glock isn’t for me because he can’t be honest with himself that I’m who he wants.

  I want a man that will tell me he loves me, that will tell me he cares about me. I want a man that isn’t afraid of what everyone else will think when we walk into a room together. Most of all I want a man that needs me more than he needs anything else, more than oxygen. You might think I live in the land of fairy tales and make believe, because these men don’t exist in real life, but that’s where you’re wrong.

  I’ve seen it with my dad and my mom. I’ve seen it with Arrow and V, Tank and Priss, jeez, I’ve seen it with Uncle Max and Adelyn, and they were the least likely couple. In the end, none of the drama, the heartache, the loss and sorrow mattered, they found each other regardless, and that’s what I want, I won’t settle for less.

  Glock doesn’t understand why I date guys that he vehemently hates, guys that are nothing like him. If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. None of the guys I choose are anything like Glock. In looks, behavior, or charisma. They aren’t bikers, they don’t carry one or more weapons to Sunday dinner, and they have manners. Every single one of them are the polar opposite of the man I’m in love with, but they serve a purpose. They are a distraction from what I can’t have, the man who won’t give himself over to what we could have.

  Looking at my cell phone on the coffee table I see it light up with Tilly’s name. She’s someone I didn’t think I’d strike up a relationship with because of Glock. They have been good friends since Tilly was fifteen and he was eighteen, going on close to fifteen years now, and they grew close quickly. Both are adamant that there’s never been anything between them, but somewhere, deep down I don’t believe it. It’s the subtle change in tone, the way his eyes harden slightly, and the way his body flinches minutely that has me disbelieving Glock. Tilly on the other hand, well, she couldn’t look me in the eye when she professed they had never been more than good friends. The one time I asked for confirmation from her, and she could barely face me to deny it.

  I honestly don’t know what the big deal is. It’s not like they’re kids, or were if, or should I say when, (because frankly I’m positive it was a when), something happened between them. If they are hiding it for my sake, because it might hurt me, they needn’t bother. I’m so over the infatuation I have for Glock, and all the bullshit that comes along with him, so as far as I’m concerned I could give a damn what they have or haven’t done.

  In saying that, aside from the glaring difference in our ages, Tilly and I get along great, now. I overlook the one lie I believe she’s told me, and Tilly steers conversations that may come up away from controversial Glock related topics, if we both keep to those two things we’re great friends.

  Tilly and I came to the interesting realization we’ve been kept separate from each other, compartmentalized by Glock into nice, neat little boxes, until recently. As in the last two years that is. For some reason, which neither of us have any clue what it could be, Glock didn’t want us around each other often, to be honest, I still think if he had his way he’d keep us from hanging out. Whether that’s because we would spill all his untold secrets, again no one knows them so I don’t see why that would be an issue for him, or not who knows, but both Tilly and I recognize what he’s been doing and decided to circumvent him altogether, being friends regardless of his preference.

  “Hey chick, what have you got going on today?” I sense a favor in my future if the tone of her voice is anything to go by.

  “Not a lot. Cleaning the apartment, clearing out some of these boxes, not much. Why? What’s up?” Tilly isn’t one to ask for help often, so I can’t say I’m not curious about what she needs.

  After a brief pause she replies,

  “You know how the library is set to re-open in the next few days? Well, I was hoping some of the boxes you’re emptying might be available for me to cart some of the old books back in, and start restocking the shelves?”

  Tilly has been Blackwater’s town librarian since she finished college. Six months ago she won a bid she put forward to the Blackwater Council in order to update some of the services, refurbish the interior of the library, and hire another permanent employee. The re-opening is being made into a big event, which I’m pretty sure at this point the entire town is going to attend, thanks to my mom Kendall, Aunt Lou, and V. No surprise there, those three could make a party out of anything, a wake included, I’ve seen it done.

  I know for a fact Tilly never wanted to do anything but be surrounded by books, it’s her favorite thing in the world, mine too, which is a God send seeing as it’s what I do for a living now. Truthfully, Tilly’s been my biggest support when it comes to writing, and I couldn’t have stuck to my guns when I told dad I wouldn’t be going to college if it wasn’t for her.

  For as long as I can remember, other than Glock, I’ve loved nothing more than to write, anything and everything. Seeing my stories come to life on the page, watching words make sentences, and sentences become paragraphs full of fictional characters in worlds I create is amazing. I love everything about writing, well, aside from the fact my dad is less than happy with me or my career choice, but that’s another story altogether. And I should probably be clear, it’s not my writing he has a problem with, it’s the content he take particular offence to, but we’ll get to that later.

  “Sure, Till. I should be finished with at least a dozen of them by lunchtime if that helps? Do you want me to drop them by your place, or do you need an excuse to escape the monsters?” Monsters being her adorable eight-year-old daughter, and four-year-old twin boys.

  Sighing Tilly says,

  “You are a lifesaver. I’ve asked everyone, and I’ve only come up with about twenty or so, and I need about twice that many to get this done before Christmas. And yes, I do need to escape, and I would have done it already, but I’m waiting on King Asshole to get home, so give me until about one and I’ll be over.”

  If you didn't pick up on it, King Asshole equals Tilly’s husband, the one and only Saint. Yeah, she’ll get her turn to tell you that interesting story later. But for now let’s just say Glock and Tilly have a few things, and by a few I mean fucking heaps, to work out or it’s off to a six-foot deep hole for one particular biker I know.

  “I’ll make sure to have coffee ready. Is this a chocolate fudge frosting, or doughnut kind of day?” Anyone who know Tilly knows she eats her feelings, and I’m hoping we’re only talking doughnuts because if it’s frosting that means the proverbial shit has hit the fan.

  “Frosting, and make mine a double.” Just as I thought. Fuck.

  “Okay, well I’ll be here all day. If you need me just call. For anything okay, honey?” I hope she gets I do mean anything, because everything else aside I know w
hat it’s like to need a friend.

  “I’ll be fine, I can’t say the same for King Asshole when I finally get hold of him, but that’s another story. See you soon, Lex.”

  Hanging up, I drop my phone beside me and shake my head. Not only do I feel sorry for Tilly, I feel sorry for her kids. I remember, even though dad tried to shield me from it, what it was like to have two parents arguing all the time, and it sucks. As in, sucks the big one, and not in a good way either. Thankfully, like I was, Tilly’s kids are young enough, and surrounded by so many people who love them that if things go south between their parents they’ll never face the full force of its wrath.

  Answering a few instant messages from friends I missed through the app on my phone, I decide I’ve spent enough time procrastinating, time to get down to work. Blasting Rise Against through my iPod, which is currently connected to a kick ass dock uncle Steel bought me, I set out to tackle the mountain of unpacking ahead of me.