“How can you call that ‘normal’?” she questions.
“It’s how I was fuckin’ raised,” I say, but as I begin to finish my sentence, she unloads like a shotgun on me.
“Get out of my house, and don’t you ever speak to me again. I don’t give a shit if it was how you were raised. They hurt innocent people. My daddy never did anything to them but play music while they all got drunk as shit. So, tell me one thing. If that’s how you were raised, then is that how you believe?”
“No, I don’t believe that. That’s why I came back. I had to show you that I’m not like them.”
She laughs hard. “Really? Because you rolled right back into town without a care in the world, no explanation, like you owned the place. I think that fits them just right. I’m so done, Walker. I won’t be with someone that is like them. It would be like selling my soul to the devil.”
In this moment, I know it doesn’t matter what I say. She won’t believe me. I just know I’m going to do everything in my power to prove her wrong.
Chapter 8
Chauna
Hearing him say he knew breaks my heart. How could he have known and not left as soon as he was old enough to run? I lived a life where I didn’t have parents because my mama ran off a long time ago, and my daddy got taken too soon. If Gran hadn’t still been around, I don’t know what I would have done, but she was taken too, and then it was me against the world. I prayed every night Walker would come and rescue me. He was Prince Charming, and he was supposed to rescue me.
I don’t say anything else, and eventually when Walker doesn’t know what else to say, he takes his shirt and starts to make his way out of the house, but then he returns to my bedroom.
“Pumpkin, is there any way you can give me a ride to Boondocks?” he asks quietly. Is he kidding?
Wiping away the tears, I nod and glance in the mirror. Damn, I look like death warmed over. I slide on a ball cap and pull may hair through the back, grab my keys, and head toward my car. The ride to Boondocks is uncomfortable and quiet. When we pull into the parking lot, Walker places his hand on the door handle and pauses.
“This isn’t the end for us. I’m gonna make you believe me. Just wait. I love you, Chauna, and I promise this time I’m not going to let you go,” he says as he exits my car. I stare as he walks over to his bike, and tears begin to stream down my face.
I watch as he places his helmet onto his head, revs the engine, and takes off down the road as I break down with no one watching.
Walker
Riding away from her this time is worse than the first time. I don’t want to leave, but I know the only way for her to know I am serious is to let her think I have left. Leaving is what I was brought up to do. When it gets rough, just ride away, but not this time.
Everyone that I rolled into town with rolls out of town without me. They aren’t excited about it, though. I hand over the reins of the gang to Justin. Hell, they give me a ton of shit, but they know why we had come to Barber in the first place.
I stay behind, sell my bike, and try to make an honest living without her knowing. In this small town, it is hard as hell, but growing up here has helped more than I imagined.
“Hey, Justin, I need a favor,” I say as I call him from the hotel. “I need you to be the buyer on a property for me. Just the middleman. I’m trying to stay low.”
“No problem, man. I just can’t believe you’ve not been spotted yet,” he responds.
“It’s been hard, and I’m ’bout to lose my damn mind. Mr. Waters is a lifesaver.”
Among my friend Justin, my old neighbor Mr. Waters, and my savings account, I have been able to start a new life, and Chauna will be a part of it very, very soon, even though she has no clue I am still around.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
Chauna
“Paige, I’m going to help Pam and Kristina unload real quick,” I say as she stocks glasses onto the shelf.
“A’ight,” she says as she continues to work.
“What y’all need me to get?” I ask Pam.
“Just grab whatever you can. We’ll set it up once we’re inside. I know y’all got a lot to get ready for tonight. I can’t believe they’ve added a full food menu. Don’t they know they work you hard enough already?” Pam says.
“I know, right? I swear, since that new owner bought Boondocks, there have been some changes. Some better than others, but at least the food is good. I just don’t understand why someone would buy our little hole in the wall, especially someone from the city,” I say as I carry a guitar.
“You never know, but they aren’t stupid, because the place brings in the money. There’s nothing else to do for miles, and the music kicks ass,” Pam says.
“It’s just weird. I mean, all we know is some bigwig businessperson bought it without even meeting us. Who does that?”
“People with money. That’s who,” Kristina chimes in.
“I guess you’ve got a point,” I say as I carry inside a few more items for them. “Y’all want anything to eat? We’ve got the best wings in town.” I smirk, and they die laughing.
“Please, tell me they don’t make you say that,” Kristina states.
“Sure do. Okay, maybe not, but Paige and I say it just for the hell of it. You wouldn’t believe that one line sells the hell outta some wings. Nowhere else in town sells them. Duh!”
“On that note, we’ll take a dozen,” Pam says with a laugh.
We all grab a bite to eat while it’s quiet in Boondocks. I have to give the wings credit. They are good and definitely the best wings in town, but our cheese fries are out of this world. As the crowds begin to roll in, we all assume our positions, either behind the bar, on the floor waiting tables, or on the stage. Over the past few months, Walker fills my mind less and less, but regardless, he is always in my heart. I knew the day he rode away I’d never see him again. I’m not okay with that, but I’m learning to live with his decision. I’ve got to live my life, and I always planned on remaining at Boondocks in Barber, which hasn’t changed.
As the evening progresses, the bar becomes packed to where we are close to breaking fire code. The kitchen is slammed, and the bar is like a war zone. I swear, you will get your beer! Since our change in owners, I’ve been so busy I haven’t been able to sing with Schaffer’s Story, and I do miss my five minutes of fame.
Around midnight, the crowd seems to level out, but the bar is still crowded. As Schaffer’s Story begins to cover Gloriana’s “Good Night,” I can’t help but get lost in the lyrics. The second verse leaves me floored when they mention a window. I think about Walker watching me through the window at Boondocks six months ago.
As the song evaporates, I’m brought back to reality by a voice. “Good song, isn’t it?” The voice is familiar, rough, yet tender, and I don’t want to look up. I swore he would never return, but now, I have no choice but to confront him, again.
“Yeah, it is,” I say as I fill a shot of Coke and place it in front of him.
“I like that you remember what your customers order. That makes a great bartender,” he says as my eyes finally move from the counter to him. Once my eyes leave the wooden bar, a charcoal suit that looks like it cost more than my paycheck meets me. Then, I see a crisp, baby pink dress shirt, no tie, and a clean-shaven face, but his earrings and skull ring are still in place, and that makes me smile. When my eyes meet Walker’s, I want to jump across the counter, but my mind tells my heart to slow down, because this has got to be a sick joke.
“Walker?” I question, even though I know the answer.
“Pumpkin,” he says.
“What are you doin’ here? Dressed like that?” I inquire with concern.
He stands and smiles. Oh, that smile. “See, there once was a girl. She was my Cinderella, and one day I lost her, or so she thought. Instead, her Prince Charming had been making a plan to walk back into her life. Chauna, I’ve not stepped out of Barber since the day you thought I rode away on my b
ike.”
“But, I though y’all left.”
“Looks can be deceiving. They left; I stayed. I promised you that I would prove I could get out of that life.”
“Okay,” I say, still unsure and trying to decide if I should go around the bar to talk to him. “Where are you going with this?” I ask.
“There’s a lot I need to say, but I know you’re working. Can we talk after?” he says.
“Sure.” For the first time in months, I feel alive again. How can one person make me feel completely whole?
“Oh, and can I get a basket of wings? I’ve heard they’re the best in town,” he says, and I look at Paige, and we burst out laughing. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I’ll get that order in,” I say.
Walker stays perched on the bar stool for the remainder of the night, and I catch his eyes following me around as I work. He stays true to his word, waiting until the bar is closed and the customers are gone. He even helps Paige and me clean up.
“Thanks for you help,” Paige says as we lock up and make our way outside.
“No problem. It was good seeing you, Paige,” he declares. “Pumpkin, wanna ride with me, or do you want to follow me to my place? I think it will be easier there.”
“I’ll follow you,” I say as I walk to my car and notice a beautiful new Chevy Silverado parked beside me. “New ride?” I question.
“Yup, there was this girl, and well, ya know,” he answers with a shoulder shrug. I grin from ear to ear and follow him to the outskirts of town. Why is he taking me this way? There are only a few houses out here.
When we pull up the driveway, I’m blown away when I realize what house he is now living in. It’s the house I always loved growing up. I had planned on buying it one day, but it was occupied when I was old enough to move out on my own. Plus, it is too big for a single person.
Once I put my car into park, I get out and walk to meet Walker. “You live here?”
“I do. Come on. Let’s sit on the porch. Wasn’t that what you always wanted to do? Sit on the porch and just talk?”
I laugh. “Yup, funny how that dream hasn’t changed.” We take a seat on the front porch swing and swing without speaking for a few minutes.
Walker stops the swing and faces me. “The day I rode away, I didn’t leave. I made it look that way because I wanted to prove to you that I’m not like my parents. I could never hurt you like that. The fact my family is the reason you don’t have yours breaks my heart. So, instead, I used my resources and did a few odd jobs out of sight. Over the years, I had done pretty well. In fact, I even got a degree in marketing.” He pauses for a minute.
“You mean, you got a degree, and I thought you just rode your bike all day and found trouble?” He shakes his head, and I bring my hands to my face, feeling completely embarrassed.
He takes my hands from my face and holds them in his. “Before I came back, I worked for a small marketing firm during the week and rode on the weekends. The guys I rode with were just like me. We had great jobs and just liked to ride. We aren’t the people you thought we were. In fact, if I remember correctly, you used to love to ride.”
“Maybe, but it was really the driver that made it worth the risk,” I say as I look into his eyes.
After working a month or so at Mr. Water’s farm, I noticed this house was for sale. I knew it was your dream home, and I wanted it for us. I also wanted to make sure your second home was always taken care of.” I begin to put it all together. As my hand goes to cover my mouth, he says exactly what I’m thinking, “With the help of Justin, who lives in the city, I bought Boondocks and this place. I needed someone I trusted to be the middleman, and that’s Justin.”
“Walker! Oh my gosh! Never in a million years did I think I would see you again, let alone do all of this for me.”
He stands from the swing, takes my hand in his, and pulls me in front of him. “Pumpkin, I’ve known since the first time I left that I had to come back for you, but it wasn’t until I rode back into this town that I knew why I could never leave again. You are it for me. My parents are long gone, and all we have in this world is each other. I’m you’re Prince Charming, remember?”
“And, I’m your Cinderella,” I reply as I close the distance between us and realize my happily ever after is just beginning.
About the Author
Casey Peeler grew up and still lives in North Carolina with her husband and daughter. Her first passion is teaching students with special needs. Over the years, she found her way to relax was in a good book.
After reading Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neal Hurston her senior year of high school and multiple Nicholas Sparks’ novels, she found a hidden love and appreciation for reading.
Casey is an avid reader, blogger (Hardcover Therapy,) and author of the Full Circle Series. Her perfect day consists of water, sand between her toes, a cold beverage, and a great book!
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Against All Odds
By Dee Avila
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my readers and new readers who are giving my adventure into New Adult Romance a chance. This book was extremely scary for me to write. I hope you enjoy Cole and Rylan’s story, as much as I enjoyed writing it.
My Betas: Brandi Schales, CJ Azevedo, Amy Barber, Becky Schmidt without each of you AAO wouldn’t be what it is. Thank you for taking the time to read and give me your suggestions. You all are priceless and I heart you to pieces.
The guy that not only holds my hand through each step of writing and publishing but wants to read it first. Larry, I am one lucky girl. I love you forever and always.
My kids you all are my world even when you drive me nuts. I know you will NOT be reading this, EVER if I have anything to say about it, but I want everyone to know I love you all four to the moon and back.
Bloggers – YOU ALL ARE SERIOUSLY AMAZING! THANK YOU!! For all you do for the Indie Community. The girls at One-Click Addicts THANK YOU for hosting our cover reveal and release day blitz. You girls kicked ass!
Chapter One
It was a few days before the first race of the season. Daytona Bike Week was an experience Cole would never forget. This year would be his third attempt at the much sought after win in the ARRO (American Road Racing Organization) Pro Championship. He loved his red Honda Sportbike, the power it had behind it had him riding zero to sixty in three seconds, and it helped him place in the front of the pack, time after time. Qualifying started tomorrow and Cole was ready, more than ready, but tonight he was enjoying the kick-off party.
Road racing had been a hobby of his since his dad took him to watch his first motorcycle race. Once he turned eighteen, it went from hobby to career when his dad forced his hand and made him choose—either stay home to attend law school, assuming his dad’s role and keeping his girl, or take the financial support and chase his dream, leaving his girl behind without a word. Cole didn’t understand it at the time, and he still didn’t. He always wondered what his dad’s motives were. His dad didn’t do things for no reason. One day Cole hoped to talk to his dad again and find out why he made him choose.
Cole was in his bus pre-party going over the list of riders, sizing up his competition. “There’s a bunch of rookies this year. Quite a few tough veterans, too. Then there’s you, and we both know you’re not a threat to me.” Cole chuckled. Brant, who was stretched out in the captain’s chair with his ankle propped on his knee and arms bent behind his head, was asleep. Brant and Cole had been friends since they both entered the racing scene. Both guys had money but no family support. Cole and Brant’s families financially supported them coming up as hotshot new racers, but neither family ever made it to a race. Not one race, not even the one an hour from Cole’s hometown. Cole wasn’t sure where Brant was originally from or where his family was. Brant wouldn’t talk about it; all he ever said was that as long as he had their money he didn’
t need them around physically. After about six months of a barely- there relationship with his parents, Cole started to think the same thing. It hardened him. The only person he let in was Brant.
They could’ve afforded separate busses and crews, but they didn’t see the purpose in it. After two years in the local racing scene, they graduated up to the AMA PRO circuit. When they decided to head to the big leagues, they hired an attorney and a financial advisor/manager. Before they could start their own race team, their manager Dominick Marshall lined them up with several big sponsors and spots on Whinebeck Racing Team or WRT. Whinebeck was one of the top three teams.
Cole flipped the page; on the bottom of the third page was the listing of a new race team and rider: MJL Racing ─ Rylan Goff #23
It can’t be. Can it? How many Rylan Goff’s can there be? Cole asked himself, thinking of the girl that stole his heart. The girl whose heart that he was certain he broke the day he left five years ago.
Cole stood up and took the two steps it took to reach his friend, knocking his boot off his knee he yelled, “Brant! You lazy fuck, get up.”
Brant jumped out of the chair and knocked his beer over. “What the hell, dude?”
“Have you seen this new rider around or heard of MJL racing?”
“Fuck, Cole, slow down. I was asleep and have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”
He slammed the paper on the little dining table. “Right, sorry. You know how I expect you to know what I’m thinking. Anyway, right here.” He pointed to Rylan’s name.
“Rylan Goff? Never heard of him.”
“Shit, I gotta go.”
Brant scrubbed his face before grabbing Cole’s shoulder, stopping him from exiting through the door. “Cole, you’re not making any sense. Why do you care about this guy or whatever?”
Bad Boys of Romance - A Biker Anthology Page 38
