When you’ve done the worst. When you’ve hurt people because of the choices you made. When you are falling and falling, and finding your footing seems impossible, where do you turn to?
Who do you turn to?
For the first time in my life, I wondered if this was it. Was this how I was meant to live? Regretting my life choices and never moving forward? Never having a family at my back?
If it was, maybe I had to consider whether this was how I wanted to live the rest of my life.
Because I don’t think I could.
The walk back to the hotel was slow and brisk. The weather was pretty warm, but the breeze that was hitting me held a certain chill.
Or maybe that was just my imagination.
Maybe I was hoping for a blizzard of some sort.
The bar just off to the side of the hotel lobby was packed full. There was a sign outside that read there was a conference being held there that day and the room was full of wealthy-looking businessmen with their ties loosened.
I stopped for a second to watch them. They laughed and joked, bustling from one group to another—mingling.
They looked like the only care they had in the world was where to go on their next holiday or for some, which of the respectable but seriously sexy women in the bar were they going to take to their room.
The handful of ladies that joined them wore beautiful floor length dresses that dipped and hugged in just the right places. They were beautiful, exquisite. Some of the men eyed them like vultures as they tossed back their expensive whiskey.
Just a couple of years ago I would have been envious of all of them. I would have dreamed to have their money and be a part of their little gathering. But since moving in with the DePalmas, I had discovered quickly that these people weren’t always what they seemed. Which one of them had ties to the drug trade, which one of them married into a rich family just so they could have it all, which one of them was being paid to ignore the dark and disgusting things that were happening within their business?
You just never knew.
People were never what they seemed, I should know that well. I’d lived it.
I found my feet carrying me toward the bar but it wasn’t these dressed up deviants that was attracting my attention. It was the lady who I’d briefly encountered on the stairs early that evening. She was sitting with a group of men. They had MC cuts on and while I should be running from anyone in this town who wore anything that resembled a motorcycle club, the need to know who they were was so strong that I couldn’t stop myself.
They sat in a crowded booth, leaned together and talking quietly as they sipped at their beer. This wasn’t the usual place that people like them would hang out, I knew that for sure. One of the men stood and I caught a glimpse of the patch that filled his back.
Satan’s Sanctuary.
They weren’t Brothers by Blood.
There was a small table that sat behind their booth. It was shorter and they couldn’t see me over the top of it.
Adrenaline soared through me as I slid into the empty seat and signaled a waitress.
“What would you like, hun?” she greeted me with a smile. She hated being there. I could tell from just the forced enthusiasm in her voice.
“Vodka and orange,” I replied quietly, shifting in my chair so it appeared that I was turning toward her, but actually, I was positioning myself so that my ear was turned in the direction of the booth. She nodded quickly and disappeared into the crowd of men.
“I need her back.” I heard the lady’s voice say. She sounded sad, beaten down.
My heart wanted to reach out for her, the pain so real I could feel it from just those four words.
“We’re going to get Lane back, Jackie,” a smooth voice rumbled. I made a mental note of the names they were talking about.
“What if Blizzard says no? What if the bridge is just too worn for him to cross again?” My ears perked up and for a second my heart stopped. Blizzard.
“He won’t. He might be an asshole, but he can’t push this aside,” another deep-voiced chimed in. “We need to get someone in there. Get someone to see if she’s okay. If she’s still alive.” The man choked up on the last words. Whoever it was they were talking about, you could tell from just the emotion in his voice that this was hitting him hard. It took a lot for a man to show that kind of caring for a woman, and I instantly admired him for being able to be so raw.
“You think they’d risk one of their own for us?” someone scoffed.
I heard a small sniffle and with that my heart almost broke. “I just don’t know anymore.”
“Hey there, beautiful.” I startled, looking up to find one of the businessmen staring down at me with a drunken grin on his face. I wanted to roll my eyes, clearly he’d had too much, and more than likely struck out with the more classy women who were here. So here he was, attempting his lame shit on me, the girl hiding away in the corner wearing a hoodie and jeans.
Turning my body away from him, I politely replied, “Not interested. But thanks.”
Clearly not getting the hint he moved in closer, the smell of alcohol and bad life choices just radiating off him. “I’ve got a room upstairs.”
Lame. “So do I. It’s what usually happens at a hotel.”
I heard a small chuckle come from the booth behind me, and I realized that I needed to get out of there, and fast before I drew too much attention.
I stood up, using the table as a deterrent and placing it between us. “I was just leaving,” I told him. His face lit up, so I quickly added, “Alone.”
The smile transformed in a flash and I knew I wasn’t getting out of here without drawing attention. I countered his now angry demeanor with a scowl of my own. It was like we were in some Mexican standoff. One of us had to move and I had a feeling if it was me, that he wasn’t about to let me pass peacefully.
“All you women here are the same, fucking stuck up. Think you’re better than everyone else, even in your…” he waved his hand over me like he was dissecting my outfit, “…street rat clothing.”
I didn’t take offense, hell, I almost laughed. If that was the best he had, I was going to win this battle intellectually by a mile. But it wasn’t that that I was worried about. He was a big guy and I was tall, but even I knew that brawn sometimes came off on top over brains.
“You need to go pick on another barfly,” I told him seriously. Hoping he would deem our little encounter too much trouble and move on to harass the next woman.
Apparently, I was hoping for too much and this guy either had a really stupid or really stubborn streak. Neither of which was going to bode well for me if I didn’t get out of this situation quickly.
People bustled around, ignoring what was happening as if they couldn’t do anything to stop it. So why bother. Just like at the train station. If it wasn’t your fight, why get involved?
Selfish. People were selfish.
I decided to go for it. Hoping that he would be too drunk and slow to try and make a move as I slid past him. I slipped between the booth and the table I’d just been sitting at, twisting my body sideways around him and attempting to keep the space between us. I underestimated how far his reach was and found my arm encased in his hot sweaty hand. His manicured fingernails dug into my skin.
“Ow!” I yelped, pulling at his wrist with my other hand. “Let go.”
Leaning in closer, he growled right in my face, “Stop being such a stuck up bitch.”
“Let me go,” I snapped, giving up on his hand and pushing at his chest. My arm burned where his fingers dug into me. It was the kind of pain I hadn’t felt in a long time. The kind of pain you only feel when it’s inflicted on you by another human being. I pushed at him again but he didn’t budge. Instead, he began to pull me. I dug my heels in, but he was strong.
“Hey!” a voice called out. Suit man looked up sharply. His eyes narrowing. “Let her go.” The voice was stern and unforgiving.
“Mind your own business,” my attac
ker growled. His hand tightened on my arm and with the sharp jolt of pain that shot through me, I decided I didn’t care if I caused a scene any longer. I brought my foot back and lined it up, throwing all my strength into it as I plowed it straight into his nuts.
Or at least, where they should be, because it was becoming quite apparent that this asshole didn’t have any if he liked to prey on women like this.
The force of my kick caused him to instantly keel over, but as he did, he threw me backward. I braced myself, expecting to land straight on my ass, but instead, two arms wound around my body catching me as I stumbled.
They were covered in tattoos. Brightly colored tattoos, with no free space to be seen.
“Well, I guess I didn’t get to save you from that ugly bastard, but I did save you from hitting the ground. Does that give me bonus points?” His mouth was right next to my ear and as he spoke his breath tickled my neck. I shuddered and quickly found myself propped up on my own two feet. “Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.” He chuckled.
I spun around, my feet almost catching on one another. He reached out once again to steady me and I managed to get a good look at his face. He had a beard that covered his jawline, strange to see on someone who seemed so young, but sexy none the less. A black beanie covered his head, but it was the cut he wore that stood out the most.
Shaking my head while trying to clear my thoughts, I apologized, “Sorry. That was intense.” I looked back at the man who’d had a hold of me. He was managing to claw his way across the floor, heading in the direction of the men’s room.
“Hate assholes like that.” The guy with the tattoos snorted. “Fucking bastard.”
I rubbed at my arm, it was tender and I knew there’d be bruising later.
“Thanks,” I told him, letting it hang in the air.
“Skins,” he offered, I knew right away it was a road name.
“Are you okay, honey?” I realized suddenly that I was standing right outside the booth where club members were seated. Jackie—I remembered they had referred to her as—was looking up at me worriedly.
I needed to get out of there fast. “Yeah, sorry for disturbing you guys,” I rambled.
“You didn’t disturb us,” Skins said, raising an eyebrow. “We ain’t gonna sit and let some fuckhead treat a girl that way. But like I said, you seemed to have saved yourself so my superhero duties will have to wait for another day.” He winked at me and I couldn’t help but laugh. Skins was attractive. His brightly colored tattoos stood out like a beacon against his white shirt and black leather cut. They were distracting and mesmerizing, completely different to what you’d expect to find on a biker.
“Thank you, for saving me from a broken ass,” I told him with a smile.
His grin widened. “It’s just so pretty. To see it broken would be a crime.” I shook my head as I turned away from the group. “See you round?” he called after me.
“Maybe,” I threw back over my shoulder as I made a hasty exit.
Adrenaline powered through my veins as I climbed the staircase to my room. I was on the fifth floor and even then I was still pumping with energy.
I had a small bit of information now. Information that I could either ignore or use. If I chose to ignore, I would simply pick up my papers tomorrow from the college and be on my way home. Home, I’m not even sure that’s what it was. Athens always felt more like home than any other place I’d been since my mother died.
The other option was stay. Stay and try to use what I’d just learned to make some kind of difference. Listening to the pain in Jackie’s voice, I knew she needed someone to help. And if the Brothers by Blood were in on this, then they needed someone too.
I wandered into the bathroom and placed both hands on the vanity. Staring at myself in the mirror had been a hard thing for me to do when I was here last. Because I knew that I wasn’t the person who was looking back at me. I’d turned into someone else and had let myself be transformed into something else. It was only now that I was starting to see the reflection of the real me looking back. She wasn’t all there, but there were little bits and pieces emerging again.
I wanted her back. I wanted to see myself reflected back at me.
And if that’s what I wanted, then I needed to fight for her and prove that she was still here.
“Hey, man!” I looked up to see Optimus walking over to me. I’d just finished cleaning my bike and the bitch was fucking sparkling. Just how I liked it. “Any chance you can shoot round and pick up Jayla from Lucy’s place. One of the other girls called in sick at X-Rated and Luce has to cover for her.”
He held out the keys to his truck. “Sure, but where’s Chel? Thought you’d get her to do it.”
He came closer and dropped the keys into my outstretched hand.
“We’d go, but she’s been having some issues with her co-ordination lately, and I want to take her up to the hospital and get her checked.” I could see the concerned look on my brother’s face.
“Shit,” I muttered. Chelsea did pretty well these days, even getting back into her regular running routine.
He nodded. “Yeah. I just hope she hasn’t been pushing herself too hard.”
I had to smile, that girl was strong and determined. Op had been lucky to find such a perfect Old Lady.
“Look after your girl. I’ll head over and grab the squirt,” I called over my shoulder as I headed for his truck which was parked at the edge of the compound.
“Thanks, man!”
Jayla was nearly five years old. Her mom, Hayley, had been a stripper at X-Rated. Unfortunately, she was caught in the crossfire during our short confrontation with the DePalma family, and Marco DePalma, Rose’s father, had killed her right outside the strip club.
Jayla’s father was unknown and Hayley’s family had thrown her out on her ass because she’d gotten pregnant at such a young age. That thought alone made me furious. She was just a kid trying to raise a kid. She didn’t deserve to be tossed out to fend for herself. It’s times like this I’m thankful for the club. We were family, stronger because we built our family together. Without the club who knows where I’d be now. After my mother left, it definitely wasn’t my father who raised me, he was too busy drinking and going out on club business to care where his teenage son was. It was the old ladies and club members that made sure I had a home and people to watch out for me. They taught me the real meaning of family.
So far we had managed to keep Jayla out of the system, putting off court hearings and making sure we had our shit sorted before we stepped up and made a claim for her. Because in our eyes she was ours, she was one of us, and there was no way in fucking hell that a judge was going to deny us our right.
I jogged up to Lucy’s apartment and banged on the door. It squeezed open just a few inches and I looked down to see two bright eyes staring up at me.
“Hey, squirt.” Her nose crinkled, but it wasn’t long before I saw a little smile. Jayla didn’t talk much. None of us were sure if it was because she’d lost her mom or whether she’d always been that way. Hayley had only been with us a short time before she was killed, so no one had really got to know them very well. “You ready to go?”
She pulled the door open a little further and held out her little princess backpack for me to take. I rolled my eyes, but took it from her hands and threw it over my shoulder.
“Hey, Blizz. Thanks for coming so quickly.” Lucy came down the hallway, handbag swung over her arm as she attempted to put her earring in her ear. “I have to be on stage in half an hour.”
“No prob. We got this.” I rubbed Jayla’s hair and she looked up at me and huffed. She’d obviously been spending too much time with Harlyn because the attitude was coming through loud and clear.
Lucy picked her up and walked with me to the truck, buckling her into the booster seat in the back and giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
“Bye!” she called with a quick wave as she jogged over to her own car and climbed in. How she even walke
d in those heels, I’ll never know but they were sexy as hell.
While the brothers had rules about sleeping with the strippers who worked for us, I’d had my fair share of them. Lucy was no exception. She was hot, sexy, and all kinds of kinky in the bedroom. But she was also never one to cling and that’s how I liked it.
“All right, to the clubhouse,” I said and climbed in the truck. I looked over my shoulder and Jayla’s face beamed back at me. She may have lost her mom, and there was nothing that was going to take that pain away but, at least, we knew she was happy.
The drive through town was busy with everyone heading home from work. I groaned as I sat backed up at a stoplight, we weren’t moving at all. My hands itched on the steering wheel. If I had my bike, this wouldn’t be a fucking issue.
“She’s pretty like Mama.” My eyes widened at Jayla’s words. It was probably the most I’d ever heard come out of her mouth in one go.
“Who, Jay?” I asked. Her little finger tapped on the window, so I turned to look at where she was pointing.
My stomach sank.
She looked just like I remembered her. Long dark hair flowing freely down her back, tight jean shorts that showed off her tanned athletic legs, and a crop top that showed just enough to tease a man.
Rose.
She was in town.
My heart stopped and I wasn’t sure if it was anger I felt building in my stomach or need. Maybe a mixture of the both. I watched as she hustled down the sidewalk, her head down so I couldn’t see her face. But I knew it was her. I would know her anywhere. I had her body memorized.
Car horns sounded startling me and I realized there was no longer anyone in front of me and the light was green. I wanted to jump out of the truck and follow her. Demand to know why she was here, but I couldn’t. There was nowhere to turn around and the only way I could go was forward.
I cursed and slammed my hand on the wheel as I floored the accelerator and took off. My hands were shaking and my head was screaming for me to pull over and go back. Go and find her. Go to her. I wanted to yell, I wanted to scream, I wanted to tell her what I thought of her. But mostly I just wanted to fucking wrap her in my arms and feel her.
Blizzard: (The Brotherhood Journals Book One) Page 5
