by Amanda Heath
Damien sighs and runs a hand through his short blonde hair. His other arm is around my shoulders, holding me close to him.
If we are really going to get married, I want to know everything about him. The beautiful and the ugly. “She lives in Washington State. That’s where she’s from. I talk to her on the phone a lot. She used to live down here with me, but her Dad got real sick and she went back to take care of him. I was fifteen then and I didn’t want to leave so I moved in with Pop until I turned eighteen. I get along great with her; she just doesn’t like the club life. Thinks I’m gonna end up dead or in prison. I’ve told her Pop wouldn’t ever let that happen. But they don’t get along, so she won’t listen to me.”
I smile because I figure not many women get along with Blade. He’s a force to be reckoned with. “What about Ryan and Chutney’s mom?”
He grimaces and leans his head against mine. His skin is so warm; I could seriously sit back here forever wrapped up in him. “They have different moms. Ryan’s mom is a piece of shit and Chutney’s mom was the only lady Pop would make his old lady, but she’s rich like you. Ain’t gonna lower herself to be with a criminal.”
“It’s not lowering myself if you’re who I love. I was honestly lowering myself to be with someone from my own world. Being with you makes me better.” He smiles and kisses my cheek. His hand rubs up and down on my thigh while my legs rest in his lap. “Why is Ryan’s mom a piece of shit?”
“He lived with her until he was twelve. She got sent to the pen after her house got busted as a meth lab. Pop about had her killed, but Ryan stopped him. Said her being locked up was enough punishment. He doesn’t really talk about it, but I think some bad shit happened to him. That’s why he won’t be with Lola. Thinks she’s too good for him.” Damien grabs my hand and twines our fingers together before going on. “Though I think she’ll wear him down soon. He’s gotten to where any ole pussy ain’t doing it for him. Wants him some Latina snatch.”
I use my free hand to smack him, hard. “Don’t call it a snatch. That’s just disgusting! If I ever hear you refer to me as snatch, I’ll cut off your balls.”
He laughs into my neck and gently kisses me there. “Whatever. You wouldn’t risk hurtin’ my cock.”
I pretend to think about it but end up smiling instead. “Yeah, you’re right.”
We end up staring into each other’s eyes and are about to kiss when someone bangs on the driver’s side door. I jump about twenty feet out of my skin but luckily I don’t screech like a little bitch.
“Damien, you gonna stay out here all night fuckin’ your piece?” some guy I don’t know, states from outside the car.
Damien’s features stretch in anger and before I know it, I’m gently moved off his lap. He pushes the driver’s seat forward as he opens the door and bursts out into the night. I look around the floor of my car for my t-shirt before I realize I’m sitting on it. I take Damien’s cut off, throw on my t-shirt, and then put the cut back on. I’m not wearing a bra so the cut should help hide my nipples.
Well, I hope.
I climb out of the car only to find Damien and a big bald guy beating the shit out of each other. “Don’t you ever call my girl a piece again!” Damien shouts, his fist landing a solid punch into the other guy’s eye. I hear bone crunch and I cringe.
I don’t know what to do. I know the guy called me a piece, but seriously, I don’t think he deserves a broken eye socket. I’m about to start pounding on Damien’s back when Blade and a few other brothers show up out of nowhere. They pull Damien off the guy and luckily he doesn’t seem to be hurt anywhere.
“Fuck, son. You broke his damn eye. Get a chill on that rage before I rip you a new asshole!” Blade screams, pushing Damien away from him. “Dusty lets get you some ice for that and call the Doc. You should know better than to piss off the bull. Boy’s in love, don’t disrespect his woman.” Blade hustles Dusty away from the group of people and towards the club.
Damien stands next to me, breathing heavy. “Was that really necessary? I mean, seriously. People are going to talk shit; it’s the way of the world. You can’t beat up everyone who says something bad to you!”
Damien glares at me before getting into my face. “I can beat up every fuckin’ asshole who says anythin’ about you. You’re my girl, and I take care of you.”
“Well if that’s the way you want to take care of me, then I’ll be hitting the road. One day you’re gonna hit the wrong motherfucker and he’s gonna pull a gun on your ass. Then blow you to fucking Japan!” Several guys burst out laughing at my words but I don’t care. When you put a bunch of men together, at some point they are going to act like assholes and pre-teen girls.
I turn my glare onto them before turning back to Damien. His lips twitch like he’s trying to hide a smile, the fucking dick. “I don’t think it’s funny. And I think you should kiss my feet, so I’ll feel better and forgive you.”
This time he gives me a cocky grin and leans closer to my lips. “I ain’t kissin’ your feet, baby. But I’ll kiss these sexy as hell lips.”
I move my mouth away right before his lips touch mine. “Nah, I think I’ll keep these lips to myself. No need for you to get rewarded for bad behavior.” I even make a tsk, tsk noise when he tries to kiss me again.
Then Damien, being Damien, just steals what he wants. And like that, our first fight as a couple ends shortly after it began.
“Let’s go get a fuckin’ drink!” Damien yells.
***
The next morning I wake up feeling like someone knocked my head into a wall repeatedly. I also feel as if my vag went on a super long bike ride. I try to open my eyes slowly, but the blinding light from the window has me quickly closing them again.
After the fight outside, we finally made it to Damien’s party. Though I shouldn’t call him Damien anymore considering his official road name is now Rage.
I started drinking again, hence the hangover from fucking hell. I start to take stock of the rest of my body. I feel warm under my face and half my torso, meaning I must be asleep on Rage. I feel more warmth over my back and curving around my ass.
Copping a feel, even in his sleep. Pig.
I slowly open my eyes again and the first thing I see is the huge rock on my finger. My eyes widen as I take in more detail, my hangover momentarily forgotten. The style isn’t unique or anything, just a gold band. But the diamond shooting up from the middle is huge and glittering off the sunlight, making my eyes hurt.
My heart starts to pound and I really think I’m going to pass out when Rage shifts around and pulls me up the bed until my face is directly in line with his. “Don’t freak out.”
“Why are you telling me not to freak out?” I whisper scream as my eyes go into tunnel vision. Rage has his left hand over his eyes, which by the way, are downright fucking sexy after just waking up. There’s a matching gold band on his ring finger.
“We fucking got married last night!” I screech, shooting up in the bed and almost falling off the side.
Rage sighs and closes his eyes. “I’m not gonna get mad at you for yellin’ this early in the mornin’ because you’re freaked out. But for the love of God do not scream again. I might hit somethin’.” He mutters this, glaring at me after he opens his eyes and finds mine.
“We got married? How did we get married? Is this even legal?” I whisper yell this time because he was right. I shouldn’t be yelling this early in the morning.
He sighs again and scoots up the bed until his back is against the headboard. I take the time to look around and find we’re in a strange room. The walls are bare, the floor is bare and the small closest off to the left is bare. There are two white doors in the room and I have no idea where either of them leads. “We aren’t at your apartment?”
He shakes his head once he gets settled. “I got a room when I patched in last night. That’s where we are. I was too drunk to get us back to my place last night.” He scratches along his jaw where dark blonde stubble has begun t
o grow.
And even though I’m totally confused and pissed off right now, I can’t help but think how much I want to lick his jaw and maybe nibble on it a little. Then I’d move down and nibble on his neck until I got to his chest. Where I would start licking all that glorious tan skin.
“Baby, eyes up here. I can’t fuck you again right now, I think you broke my dick.” He says this with all seriousness. I think he’s using sarcasm but when my eyes meet his I realize he is being serious.
“That…what…that isn’t…huh?” I stumble around on my words because it’s just come to my attention that I don’t remember a lot of last night. How fucking drunk did I get?
“You got shit-faced drunk, we got married by one of the brothers who’s a certified preacher, and then you made me fuck you like eight times. It’s done, it’s over with, so get over it and let’s go back to sleep. I’m seriously tired right now, baby.” He even closes his eyes during the last few words as if it adds fact behind his words.
“You can’t just marry someone while you’re that drunk. What is wrong with us?” I scrape my hands over my scalp and tug at the strands of my hair in frustration.
“I knew you’d tell me you were drunk and you didn’t mean it. So I went ahead and did it while you were drunk so you couldn’t get out of it. Now you’re my wife and you can’t get out of it. We already filled out the marriage license and one of the prospects is mailin’ it off today. Plus, we sealed the deal with God with all the fuckin’ we did last night.” My body is slack with shock so it’s easy for him to pull me down and into his body. “I gotta tell you Glossy, I thought that fuck in your car was hot. But last night you went wild and let me do whatever I wanted to you.”
This makes me grimace because I’m not quite sure I believe that nonsense. I would never let him do whatever he wanted. Considering he’s a biker, there’s no telling what crazy kinky shit he could come up with. Hell, doing it in the backseat of my car in a public parking lot was kinky enough for me. “You’re so full of shit.”
“Duh. Well about the sex part. We really are married.” He kisses the side of my head and I decide for right now to let it go. I’m hung-over, so is he, and getting more sleep would probably help me out. I can freak out more over this later, after six more hours of sleep.
“I’m going back to sleep but when I wake up we are talking about this. You’re in serious hot water for that shit because I don’t care how serious I am, you don’t just let us get married without me being one hundred percent sober.” Then I closed my eyes and fell back to sleep after Rage’s rocking laughter died down.
***
We did talk about what happened after we woke up that night. It took three weeks for him to convince me to stay married to him. I guess in the long run he was right. We were perfect for each other. We made each other better and we were happy. I mean he put up with me playing air guitar and singing songs way off tune. He got me a dog and let me name him Chuck after Chuck Bass from Gossip Girl. He fixed my car whenever I needed the oil changed or until something happened to something on the engine. He even rotated my tires.
The most bestest thing of all, is he loved me without issue. No matter what I said to him or did to him, he still loved me. He brought me into his world when I didn’t grow up the same way he did. He didn’t even care when I corrected his grammar or made him write out his notes slowly so I could read them. He didn’t mind the one time I flooded the apartment when I clogged up the drain in the bathtub and fell asleep while I was drawing a bath.
For two years Damien put up with my insecurities and my fits of anger over nothing. He simply put up with me. We were truly a married couple for those two years. We paid bills together, we bought furniture together, we fixed dinner together, we went on vacations and I woke up to him every morning and went to sleep with him at night.
I, of course, put up with him leaving his dirty clothes all over the house, his constantly being horny, his brothers always being around and leaving dirty dishes all over the house and his grease stains in the bathtub. Just because I loved him unconditionally. For the first time in my life, there was a relationship that was all give and take, not just give or just take. We were equal.
And everything was perfect until Victor got shot up in Iraq on his second tour.
The two years I was with Damien, Victor came back home twice, each time he stayed at his house with Annabella. He didn’t call me or come to see him. He left me in the dark and honestly it made my life better.
My mom tried to bring us together of course, because she couldn’t stand my “boyfriend” and she thought that was what he was. In my family I was the outsider. I was the one hiding who I was, so of course I hid the fact I married Damien. I think my mother would have shit ten bricks and had another baby. She probably would have found a way to keep me locked up in the house until I “came to my senses” or some shit.
Then I got the call from her. The call that said he was coming home full of holes. I may not have loved him like I used to but I still loved him. I still cared about him and I didn’t want to see him hurt. I honestly thought he was going to die. He had so many surgeries and then he was diagnosed with PTSD.
I wanted to go see him but Damien had a problem with it. So we fought and we fought until finally I left. I knew Victor was my ex-boyfriend but he was still once a huge part of my life. I needed to be there for him. Nothing romantic involved, but Damien still became the real-life version of his road name.
Rage.
The day I was walking out the door of our apartment, he told me to never come back if I went to see Victor. I hated he was making me choose, I hated that it came to that. But I couldn’t be swayed. This was important to me and I thought he would get over it. But he never did.
I tried to see Damien loads of times after I left but they wouldn’t let me into the club, which is where he was living after I left. He left me the apartment, just moved all his shit out and was gone. I called, I texted and I wrote him one letter. It pretty much said he was a piece of shit. I sent it with divorce papers he never signed.
Ryan, who had also prospected in the Wrath MC and was nicknamed Storm, told me a few months later that Damien refused to divorce me. He said it served me right. Now I wouldn’t be able to get married to Victor and be the trophy wife I had always wanted to be.
So what did I do? I enrolled into Vet School. I visited Victor several times and we slowly started to form a new relationship. One where he put me first, and where I felt equal, or more equal than I used to feel. Then we were a couple again and I moved back into his house. I found a nice family who agreed to take Chuck and that was the hardest thing about it. Losing Chuck because Victor is allergic. That dog was my child and he couldn’t understand why I didn’t want him.
I couldn’t make him understand that I loved him with all my heart.
Over time though things got bad. I became that shell of a girl again. I was always wondering what Victor was doing when he wasn’t around me. I can’t tell you what it was, but I didn’t trust him. My younger cousin Wesley is scared to death of him now. She didn’t used to be but now she can’t stand to be in his presence without flinching and moving as far away from him as possible.
Something happened to him over there in Iraq and he didn’t trust me enough to tell me. He didn’t trust me enough to tell me a lot of things. Like why there was a gun under our bed, blood on his clothes, and why his knuckles were always busted or he had new scars show up out of nowhere.
Damien told me everything he could tell me. He couldn’t tell me names or where he was at, but he always told me if he was in a fight for the club. He always told me if it was club business or his business. The difference was, I wasn’t allowed to know club business unless I was directly affected by it. His business meant I could know every detail. And I understood those rules. The club was his life, but he never picked it over me.
Then about two years ago, Annabella caused a huge amount of drama in my family and I finally found a reason
to dump Victor. He was letting his sister run around and ruin her life. He knew she was on drugs but he didn’t tell me. He didn’t trust me to help him with it or help her.
So I packed up my shit and moved back in with my mother. And I went and got Chuck back, thankfully the new owners were sad to see him go but totally understood.
For the first time since I was fifteen years old, I was single and I planned to stay that way for a very long time.
Damien
“Victor’s back at Glossy’s mom’s house,” my brother tells me. I watch him move down the bar where I sit nursin’ a beer. I’m thinkin’ of tossin’ the beer and gettin’ somethin’ stronger. Something that will knock me on my ass for hours.
I don’t wanna feel.
I don’t wanna be alive.
When I left the apartment today I left my soul in there with Ashley. I’m not a man. I’m a fuckin’ pussy. Never in my life have I felt this close to tears. It’s almost as if my entire body is rippin’ in half.
“I know. I followed her there,” I whisper, starin’ down at my beer. If you’d asked me when exactly I got like this, I couldn’t give you a straight answer.
Ryan sits on the stool next to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch at the contact and shrug him off. Not today. Probably not for months. I can’t stand to think of anyone touchin’ me who isn’t Glossy. “Why’d you do it, Damien? You had the best thing goin’ for you.”
I choke down what I really want to say and stay silent. I know what I did. I know why I did it. Does it make me less of a man? I don’t really know. I saw my entire life flash before my eyes a few weeks ago. I watched my brother almost lose his woman. That hit me in a place I didn’t even know existed.
Lola went up against a gang of hardcore men who wouldn’t even blink about choppin’ her head off. Which they tried to do. I thought Ryan was goin’ to get himself killed to get to her. I watched him spend two years strugglin’ with his need for her. I still don’t know what held him back for so long. Now they’re getting’ married, while I just left my wife.
