Sleepless Nights

by Amanda Heath

  It was like that at home too. Well, until all my brothers moved out. They were way too overprotective and they are all younger than me. Thankfully Donovan is off at college, Court got married and has a baby and Channing followed his girlfriend to Boston for college. I don’t have them breathing down my neck anymore.

  My father, before he passed away, was controlling too. I never got to go outside and play like a little girl should. I had to take French lessons and piano lessons. He died when I was seven but my parents were divorced by then. My mom, thankfully, didn’t care if I brought home sick animals and got mud all over the house. She actually encouraged it.

  I shrink back in shock when fingers are snapped in my face. I look up into a pair of dark blue eyes and blonde hair. “Hey Glossy. It’s been a while since I seen my favorite daughter-in-law.”

  I want to roll my eyes but I don’t. If there’s one thing I remember, it’s don’t disrespect Blade in front of the club. I could get away with it in private. The old guy is a softy when no one else is around. Besides I’m not his favorite. Lola is.

  “It’s so good to see you Blade. How are all your kids?” I ask with a sugar sweet smile. I don’t look around the inside of the clubhouse because I don’t want to see the spitting image of Blade in his oldest son. I didn’t think it would be this hard. But just looking at Blade has my body in fight or flight mode.

  Blade chuckles and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Chutney should be here any minute, I’m sure she’ll love to see you. Ryan you’ve seen of course. I hope he wasn’t too tough on you.” He pauses and looks around while I keep my eyes on only him. Storm is Ryan’s road name, in case you were wondering. “My third child, well, I’m sure you’ll know how he is the second you see him.” That doesn’t sound promising.

  He leads me through groups of people and into the back hallway, which leads to his office. I want to struggle away from him but I can feel eyes following us still. We pass doors with nameplates indicating who sleeps there. The closer we get to Blade’s office, the more familiar the names get. There’s one with “Storm & Lola”, one with “Princess” which would be Chutney’s, and the last one stops me in my tracks. “Rage & Glossy”. I think I might pass out.

  “He refused to take it off,” Blade mumbles in my ear. I shiver at the words because that is so like Rage. He’d do something like that just to spite me. Fucking bastard.

  The next door is Blade’s room, which only has his road name on it. His office is right inside the door and his room is off the back of the office. The second we enter I suck in a breath. Pictures are everywhere. I forgot how much he loves pictures. I don’t think in twenty-six years of being club President he’s taken any of them down, just added more until almost every inch is covered.

  I hear him move around me, probably headed to his desk. I can’t move from this spot because I know what I’m going to see on this wall. I’m going to see the two-year relationship I had with Rage. Before I can take any of them in, I snap my eyes away and look at Blade. “Why am I here?”

  “For lots of reasons. You’re a very important person Ashley,” he answers from his chair. He’s leaned back as far as the chair will allow. His long blonde hair hangs around his face in crazy waves and curls. It’s starting to turn grey around his temples and it clashes but I would never tell him that. His dark blue eyes scrutinize me, probably wondering if I’m going to bolt. I’m not, that would be stupid considering there are about three hundred people here who would stop me.

  I finally sit down in a chair facing his desk. “That doesn’t tell me anything, Carl.” He smiles at me when I use his given name. There are only about ten people who know his first name, so it’s actually kind of a privilege. I’ve always known it though. Carl used to be friends with my dad. He used to bring me presents because he didn’t have a daughter then but that was a long time ago.

  Carl sighs and sits forward in his chair. “We’ve got to have a conversation about your ex-boyfriend.”

  I sit straight up in my chair and grip the armrests hard. “Victor? What does Victor have to do with anything?” Victor and Talon didn’t have an easy time in the real world when they got back from Iraq. I’m not sure about Talon because Victor wouldn’t talk about it, but I know Victor was reckless. I’m just hoping he didn’t do something reckless and piss off the Wrath’s. Because I can’t save him from this club. No one could save him from this club.

  “You really don’t know?” Carl looks at me like I’m lying but I don’t know shit. Even when I was with Victor he didn’t tell me everything. In fact I’m pretty sure he hid a lot more than I can even imagine.

  “I haven’t spoken to Victor in a year. Not after he asked me to marry him for the eighth time and I had to say no because your idiot son won’t divorce me.” I cross my arms over my chest and start tapping my foot. Thinking about my marriage always gets my blood boiling.

  Carl swipes a hand down his face and gives me a hard look. “Victor isn’t who you think he is.” Now what is that supposed to mean? “Victor’s father was working with the mob before he passed away.”

  Blood freezes in my veins. “There is no way you’re about to tell me Victor is working for the mob. They sell drugs, and his sister is addicted to meth. He’d kill all of them before he’d join them.”

  “I’m not sayin’ that. But he has become a very powerful man in Dallas. He’s up there with Uncle Barney and me.” Uncle Barney is the head of the mob here in Dallas. My mom’s brother, Uncle Greyson, works for him. Not like that though. He’s just the “family” doctor. He patches up bullet holes and knife wounds. He also delivers all the babies and does checkups for the children.

  I feel confused because I don’t know how he could have become that powerful without the mob’s help or Carl’s. “What does that even mean? He hates everything the club and the mob stand for.”

  Carl sighs and stands up. He leans against the desk and glares down at me. “That’s exactly the point. He joined forces with Talon Hartford. Whose father is runnin’ for President of the USA. Victor’s official job is bodyguard but he’s doin’ more than that. They’re cleanin’ up the streets of Dallas and the surroundin’ areas. They are slowly takin’ out the mob and now they’re after us.”

  “What do you mean after you? After you how?” I feel my right hand come up to my throat but I don’t know if it’s for comfort or to choke myself. If Victor’s doing something to the club, I’m vulnerable here. They might hurt me just to get at Victor. I can’t believe he would do that and not protect me.

  Carl moves around the desk to stand in front of me. I look up as he looks down. Then he delivers another blow. “He’s not puttin’ us in jail, he’s not doin’ anythin’ good. He’s killin’ off my men and the mob’s men.”

  My entire body erupts in goose flesh. I feel the tingles all over and they aren’t good. I can see Victor doing that. Rage isn’t the only man I’ve been with that couldn’t hold his temper. Holes in the wall right next to where my head was. Slamming doors in my face. He never yelled though. Victor has a quiet anger, but it’s still anger. “Are you going to hurt me?” I whisper shakily.

  Carl frowns at me and shakes his head. “No girl. You’re my son’s old lady. If you had done somethin’ to hurt the club or helped Victor hurt us, yeah, then I would have to hurt you. The only thing you did wrong was fall in love with Victor when you were a child. I can’t fault you for that. You fell in love with Rage too, and he’s no prize.”

  “He was to me,” I say quietly to my lap. And he was, until we tore it all apart. “Then why am I on lockdown? I’m perfectly safe. Victor’s not going to hurt me.”

  Carl gives me a sympathetic smile and shakes his head again. “Talon and Victor have a whole system. They can look any of us up and find out anythin’ they want to know. Bastard was attacked last night. He’s goin’ to live thank the lord, but he was hurt pretty bad. They knew his real name, Ashley. They knew how old he was. And since Talon has the police in his pocket, they won’t put Bastar
d in protective custody. Won’t even listen to us about what happened.”

  I feel bad for Bastard, who is Sergeant at Arms for Wrath, but all I hear is they can find out anything personal. I start to get tunnel vision and all I can see is Carl’s face. “You’re holding me to piss him off. And you’re worried about Rage, about what Victor is going to do.”

  “There’s more to it than that, girl. They blew up a car Chutney was supposed to be in. They are goin’ after our old lady’s and daughter’s. If they can’t get to us, they are goin’ after the females. You’re the only one who’s safe in all of this. You’re the only one who can talk to Victor without gettin’ hurt.”

  “He tried to hurt Chutney? Why would he go after old ladies and daughters? What point would that have?” I slowly start to come out of my shock but after what Carl says next, I sail headfirst into it again.

  “Because she knows things. Lola knows things. They think they are just as guilty. Hell, Lola is, because she does runs with Storm. They think that makes them fair gain because they aren’t stoppin’ the problem.” He bends down into my face where his breath hits my cheek. My chest rises and falls with great speed and I know the final blow is coming. “He can read the files, the papers. What do you think he’ll find out about you and Rage?”

  “He already knows,” I whisper right before I fall to the ground. I’m in and out of it for a few minutes but I don’t miss the slamming of a door, dark blue eyes, and short blonde hair. Rough hands trail across my face and I whisper, “Damien…” and suddenly I’m back in high school.

  One

  Seven and a half years ago…

  Damien Daniels was the hottest boy in my school. Every girl wanted to have his babies. Me included, but not really. I was in a serious relationship, one I’d been in since I was fifteen. Three years seemed like a lot to throw away for one night in the sack. Not that Damien is a player or anything, that’s just all I would allow.

  Damien was the son of Blade, the president of the Wrath MC. I listened to all the horror stories my mom told me about her bad boys. I didn’t want to end up like her. And you knew Damien was a bad boy based solely on his looks. His blonde hair was buzzed close to his head and his dark blue eyes had this seriousness to them. Plus, he had a temper the size of Texas. I’d seen him drop kick dudes for simply knocking into him. There was also a rumor he was stealing cars for his dad and his chop shop. I didn’t know if that one was true or not.

  My boyfriend Victor had been shipped off to Iraq three weeks ago. It seemed like an eternity to me but I knew I had a long road ahead of me. I mean, he graduated early just to join the army with his best friend. Like Talon really needed to have Victor watch his back. Believe me, Talon could handle himself.

  I take a look at my black hair in the mirror I have inside my locker door. Normally it’s not so frizzy but I couldn’t keep it sleek with the AC out in the high school. I used to attend a private school, Meadows, but I had some trouble with a few girls there. Mostly they kept hitting on my boyfriend like I wouldn’t care or some shit. So I busted a few heads together. Then I got expelled and sent to the public high school -- that needs better funding for the AC.

  My makeup is starting to run down my face and I use my finger to wipe the mascara away from under my eyes. I pull out my lip gloss and spread some across my heart shaped lips and smack them together.

  I suddenly feel eyes on the side of my face and I turn to meet a pair of serious blue eyes. His full bottom lip pulls up into a half smile. He holds books in his arms making his biceps bulge. His nose is long and straight, no break in the bone like his little brother’s. His eyebrows are well maintained which is rare in this place. Just because you’re a guy doesn’t mean you can’t get your eyebrows waxed. They don’t have to look like a chicks or anything. Bushy eyebrows just look…gross.

  Damien continues to stare at me and I feel my blood start to heat. More sweat beads along my brow making the heat in this place even worse. Getting irritated at my reaction to him, I snap out, “What?”

  He chuckles and takes a step closer to me. His eyes land on my lips and stay there. That’s when the tingles start to caress my body like a gentle lover’s hands. “Not a thing Glossy,” he whispers, finally looking up at my eyes before backing away.

  I want to groan because I know what that means. Don’t ever let a biker boy give you a nickname. It’s the end of your life as you know it. “My name is Ashley. Not Glossy. And if you call me that again, I’ll cut off your balls.”

  He stops in his tracks a few feet away and turns around slowly to face me. Everyone around us has stopped what they were doing to watch. You don’t threaten Damien without any consequences. “I know what your name is. But I’ll just stick with Glossy. You puttin’ that shit on your lips, well, it makes a guy think about those glossy lips wrapped around his dick.”

  I feel my cheeks light on fire and I clench my fists. I close my locker door without looking and walk until I’m right in his face. “I would, if there was anything to get my lips around.” I look down at his pants where I’m sure his dick is anything but small. But you want to piss off the bull, tell him he’s got a small dick.

  He lowers his mouth until it’s right next to my ear. “Baby, my cock is anythin’ but small. But you already knew that. Keep talkin’ back to me and tryin’ to put me in my place,” he says, his breath lingering along the shell of my ear. “It’s turnin’ me on somethin’ fierce,” he finishes with a whisper as I gasp.

  I scrunch up my nose like what he says repulses me, but we all know it doesn’t. But I also don’t want to turn him on anymore, so I turn around and head in the opposite direction. If I had looked back I would have seen the first real smile Damien Daniels had smiled in years.

  Damien

  “I think someone has a crush,” Ryan murmurs as he walks up beside me in the hallway. The heat in this place is unbearable and watching Ashley Southerland’s ass sway away from me doesn’t help. My fuckin’ dick is so hard right now I don’t think I can walk.

  I ignore my brother and turn around to limp outside of the school. I don’t have to explain myself to him anymore than I have to explain myself to anyone. My life and my rules for livin’ it. But he’s right. I have a crush and for the first time, I don’t know what to do about it.

  I may not know Ashley but I know of her. She got kicked outta her old school for fightin’ but I don’t know what she was fightin’ over. Considerin’ the way she just handed me my ass, it could have been over anythin’. She also comes from a long line of stuck up rich people. I’m pretty sure her daddy owned half the Dallas area. Ashley just shines like a rich person. Her clothes may not be flashy or in your face but they are designer and I’m sure she paid a mint for ‘em.

  By the time I make it to the parkin’ lot of the school, my dick has gone back down to normal. Thank fuckin’ God. That was absolutely painful. But then again, it’s the best kind of pain. This is what I enjoy the most about women. Whether they know it or not, they want you to chase them and I plan on chasin’ Ashley. I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad in my life.

  I pause by a classic car sittin’ a few rows down from my bike. While the vintage Camaro looks familiar I can’t place where I’ve seen it before. But boy is she a beauty. Probably belongs to some little punk who inherited it from his daddy.

  Little does the punk know, I plan on takin’ it off his hands.

  “What do you think Pop would give me for poppin’ that ride?” I discreetly point at the black shiny machine I want to call my own.

  Ryan stands by his Harley, casually leanin’ on the seat. He slowly lifts the corners of his mouth into a crazy grin. “A lot. You don’t see a lot of the Camaro’s around, the vintage ones anyway. Most of these white boy pricks want ‘stang’s or GTO’s. Pop would give you a mint for that black beauty.”

  I grin like an idiot. Whether I want the car for my own or not, I gotta help take care of the club. That means I have to prospect into the club first and Pops has been se
ndin’ me out to pop some cars. I don’t generally like it but I don’t mess with family cars. I take rich cars that belong to rich assholes. I know those clowns have the insurance to replace their stolen vehicles. I don’t even feel bad about it most of the time.

  Okay, I never feel bad about it.

  I look up to see Lola Montez standin’ by her little white Corolla. Her chocolate brown eyes stay locked on Ryan but he ignores her. I roll my eyes at him. If I had a hot piece of ass like her after me, I wouldn’t hesitate for a second to hit it. That girl has curves in all the right places, plus the attitude of a hellcat. She’d be killer in bed, probably wouldn’t be able to walk for a week after fuckin’ her. Strangely, the thought doesn’t even get a response outta my dick.

  The little latina girl flips her dark brown hair over her shoulder and cocks a hip out. A preppy white boy stands a few feet away checkin’ her out. I notice Ryan’s hand fists by his leg and I choke back a laugh.

  I don’t know why little brother wants her to think he’s not into her. That goes into things I don’t want to think about. With Ryan, I’ll never understand why he does the things he does. He was raised different than me. His momma is a complete and total crazy psycho bitch. I still remember the day Pop brought Ryan to live with us; my little brother still had cigarette burns fresh and bleeding along his chest.

  I close my eyes at the memories and grit my teeth. That bitch better be thankful Ryan didn’t want her dead. If he hadn’t said the word to stop Pop, Pop would have sent in a sweet butt to kill the bitch. You don’t mess with anyone in the club and that includes the kids.

  “Let’s get home, Romeo. Don’t need you beatin’ the shit outta that kid. Pop would blow a gasket if you got suspended again,” I tell him mockin’ly.

  Ryan reaches over and punches me hard in the arm. “Shut the fuck up.”

  My only response is to laugh my ass off.