Demented Sons Series Volume One: Books 1-4 (Demented Sons MC Iowa)

by Kristine Allen

  “Girl, you’re so crazy. You know I’m old and out of shape and the wrinkles are taking over! What do you want?” She winked at me and tipped her head over to the counter where I noted a cake resting on a cooling rack. This had me clapping my hands and jumping up and down just like the child I felt take over as I entered the house. My mom continued to laugh at me as she told me to sit down and tell her all about Las Vegas.

  “It was fun. Steph was gorgeous, as always. The wedding was sweet, and the food at the reception was good. Steph’s husband is so incredibly hot, and you can just tell he loves her so much. It reminded me of you and dad.” I knew I had a wistful look on my face. Jealousy was creeping in again, and I fought down the green-eyed monster that was clawing up my throat. It didn’t seem fair because I had always wanted what my parents had, and now my best friend seemed to have it too. Not that I begrudged Steph and Colton one iota.

  “I’m just still so shocked! A biker! I would never have thought that sweet studious little girl would hook up with someone like that.” Mom tsked in slight disapproval.

  “Oh, Mom, he’s nice. And he used to be a soldier in the Army. He’s a war hero with a purple heart and everything.” How I wished my mom wasn’t so hung up on occupations, income, and appearances. For crying out loud, my dad did a short stint in the Army before he got out and became a truck driver. He wasn’t a Wall Street tycoon, and that had done them just fine.

  “Oh really? Hmm, I didn’t know that. But a biker mechanic… surely he could have found a better job than that after the Army. Now Trevor, he got a good job after he got out of the Air Force. Surely, that boy of Steph’s could have found something like Trevor did.”

  Ugh! Mom, please!

  “Mom, Trevor was an admin assistant in the Air Force for three years. He never deployed and rarely left his office.” In frustration, I rolled my eyes. Trevor rarely talked about his service time, and I didn’t really ask because there wasn’t much to talk about. He spoke more about his job now, as a government employee, than his service time.

  “But it’s what he does now that’s important. He has a good job with good benefits and a nice retirement. He is such a great catch for you, Becca.” Great, now I needed to tell her I was ditching him. Her hero, Trevor. For the life of me, I never understood why my parents felt like he hung the moon. Every time we were over to the house, he charmed the pants off them though, so I suppose it made sense. Well, this wasn’t going to go over well.

  “Yeah, about that…” I sat at the table, tracing the woodgrain with my fingernail. “I told him I want to break things off.” My eyes stayed trained to the tabletop, flicking at a couple of stray grains of salt. Meeting my mom’s gaze briefly after this news seemed tantamount to telling her I had murdered someone or something. So, I looked back down swiftly.

  “What?” The mixing bowl dropped to the table with a loud thunk as she dropped into the chair next to me and reached over to my chin to bring my eyes to hers. “What on Earth happened?” My mother looked like I told her I just robbed a bank. Great.

  “Mom, we just don’t click. We are so different, and he is so… just boring, Mom. I don’t love him, and I don’t see myself ever loving him. When we met at the Storm Chasers game, I thought he was cute and polite. I should have realized when there was no real spark that he wasn’t the one. It has just gotten worse over time. Now he just makes me feel stifled and smothered.” The desperation in my voice and eyes pleaded with her to understand.

  “Baby, don’t be hasty. Talk to him. He’s a really good man, and I feel like he really grounds you. He loves you, and I’m sure he just wants what’s best for you, honey.” My mom tried to make me see what she did, but that was a vision I couldn’t conjure.

  “Can you please let me make my own decisions? Trevor doesn’t ground me. He tethers me to the ground. There’s a difference, Mom. God, I wish I had never even started dating him.” Knowing I wouldn’t get anywhere with her, I got up to leave.

  “Becca! Don’t you dare screw this up! That man accepted you despite your wild-girl past, and he helped you grow up and become a mature adult! Life isn’t about running around partying and painting happy little trees and sunshine everywhere.” She had me wanting to growl in frustration at her obstinacy.

  “Love you, Momma, but I need to head home to get some supper started.” Kissing her on the cheek, I once again took the coward’s way out with her and left.

  LORDY, I LOVED THE kids in my class, but it was Monday, and the twenty-four fourth graders in my last class had been in rare form. My coffee was gone before I knew it, and I looked at the clock to see if I had time for another cup. A resigned breath escaped my mouth, and I slouched further in my chair in the teachers’ lounge. Hopefully, the next bunch ran off some of their energy in the P.E. class before mine. Ugh!

  “Break’s almost over, girl.” Josie had to go poking me with her proverbial stick. She and I had several education classes together in college at Iowa State, and I loved working with her. We had gotten pretty close, but nowhere as close as Steph and I were. She was from a small town not far from here, but with no jobs available in her area, good old Council Bluffs was the closest area with positions. So, there we were, both dreading going back to class. Mondays were the worst because the kids had been out of their routine for two whole days, and it was like starting at square one with them every Monday.

  Giving her the stink eye and sticking my tongue out at her, I got up to rinse out my mug and place it on the drying mat by the sink. Leaning against the counter, I folded my arms and prepared to ask her the question I had been trying to find the words for during our entire break.

  “Hey, Josie. Umm, did you still have that room you were trying to rent out?” She had bought a three-bedroom house and usually had two roommates to help with the payment, but Tanya, her second roommate, had gotten married and moved out.

  I brushed at an invisible speck of lint on my blouse. Over two months had passed since I returned from Vegas. Two months since, at Trevor and my mom’s hounding, I agreed to “try to make thing work” with Trevor. Of course, not a damn thing was different, and yet I was still with him, so I tried to avoid him as much as possible. Who was this pushover bitch and what had she done with the Becca I used to be?

  “Actually, yes, I do. Why? Who do you know that’s looking? Do I know them? It’s not some weirdo, is it? I require references, you know.” She crossed her arms over her chest, tipped her chin down, and gave me the raised eyebrow look. Josie was a darling, but she was very reserved, and I imagined she had been a bit of a nerd in high school. In college, she was quiet and kept to herself unless we had a study group together. She could be super pretty if she would think of getting contacts and doing a little something with herself. It was oh so wrong, but I couldn’t help thinking she was who Trevor should have hooked up with. She was just sweet and kind of, well, plain. Mousy brownish-blonde hair, parted in the middle, straight as a board and long, and no makeup ever topped off her dang-near Laura Ingalls look.

  “Well, funny you should ask… it’s me. Most of my references would be the same ones you would use. The only rental reference I have is from when Steph and I were in college.” Suppressing a laugh at her owl-like expression, I gave her a pleading look.

  “Uh, yeah, okay. But if you don’t mind my asking, is there something going on? I thought you and Trevor lived together and were like practically married. He’s such a sweet man. Don’t tell me he broke up with you? Or… no way. Don’t tell me you broke up with him?” She was so nice, but evidently easily shocked and amazed.

  Why did everyone have to seem so surprised I would want to end things with Trevor? First my mom, now Josie. Couldn’t anyone see what he was like? Maybe it was just me. No, because Steph couldn’t stand him. He didn’t like kids, and he had been condescending to her anytime she and Remi came to visit me until she quit coming. Because he didn’t want children, I wasn’t supposed to want them. It was frustrating. Looking at the clock again, I saw I only had about
five minutes to get back to class.

  “I don’t really have time to get into it now, but if you’re okay with me moving in, I’d love to be able to do it ASAP.” I clasped my hands in supplication at her and put on my best pout. She started laughing at my antics and told me I could swing by tonight to sign the rental agreement and move in any time after that. Hugging her tightly with a jubilant and profuse “thank you” pouring from my mouth, I told her I would be by tonight and, hopefully, moving in this weekend.

  Maybe it was a small thing, but making definitive plans to move out and move on with my life lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. It was as if the skies were a little brighter and my heart was a little lighter.

  You would think four days would be more than enough time to discuss with Trevor my plans to move out. Yet, here it was Thursday and I still hadn’t had a chance. Either he wasn’t home, I wasn’t home, or he was “too busy with work” to talk to me. He spent nearly every waking moment in his home office. Well, that was fine. I didn’t need much time to tell him, and I was going to corner him that night. Period.

  Dinner was made and waiting for him and the table was set. That seemed like as good a place as any to keep him in one place so I could talk to him. The second hand on the clock seemed to tick by in slow motion. My eyes would not quit looking at my watch, the clock on the stove and the clock in the living room. Sheesh. Five minutes after six. Shouldn’t he be here by now?

  The sound of the garage door opening had me rushing to the kitchen to dish up our plates. Trevor came through the kitchen door and set his briefcase by the doorway to the living room. He then came and bussed my cheek and told me dinner smelled excellent. Just the touch of his lips on my skin had my cringing inside, but I told him to have a seat and I would bring his plate over.

  We ate in relative silence for a few minutes before I set my utensils down and rested my hands in my lap. A deep breath to gain my composure and calm my nerves was in order. This shouldn’t be that difficult. However, even though Trevor had been boring and a little controlling, he had been good to me, letting me move in with him and not charging me a penny for rent or utilities. He covered everything, telling me it was his job as the man in the relationship. The part of that I never liked was him hinting that I wouldn’t be working after we got married. Considering I had never agreed to marry him, because he had never actually asked, I always left that discussion alone.

  “Trevor, I really need to talk to you. We still haven’t discussed our relationship status since I came home. I have really thought about things and—” As usual, he interrupted me.

  “Becca, dear, there is really nothing to discuss. I know you were feeling stifled, and that is why I let you go to Vegas before we discussed our relationship. I knew you would feel better after getting away for the weekend and having a little ‘girl time’ with Steph and the girls. Don’t worry, things are still good between us,” he finished. Let me go to Vegas? Was he serious?

  “Trevor! That’s not true. Things are absolutely no different with us. Yes, I was feeling stifled. It seems like I have been the one who has changed everything about myself. Initially, I felt like you would be good for me because you were steady and respectable, which I felt I needed to keep me grounded and reputable. We got along well, and then you asked me to move in and things have flowed along, and I got caught up in the current. I feel like I’ve gone so far to the other end of the personality spectrum and it’s not fair to me.” I tried to read his expression, but he just sat there staring at his food. My intent was never to hurt him, and I prayed he was okay.

  “So that’s it? You’re just done? Over a year and a half put into this relationship and you’re done just like that? I don’t think you’re thinking clearly, Becca. I think you’re emotional and acting irrational. Maybe Vegas was a bad idea after all. We are good together, and I will not lose you. I really think you should take some time to think about your feelings. There’s no need to rush into a decision.” He slid his chair back and left the table. In astonishment, I watched him pick up his briefcase and walk into his office, closing the door after he entered.

  “Why do you keep putting words in my mouth? Who put you in charge of my feelings?” I yelled after him.

  My head fell to my hands. What a disaster. Why couldn’t he understand and accept I was done? Was he dense? And why was it me who needed to think about my feelings and decide to stay? A true relationship should have give-and-take with equal input. That was part of the problem with our situation. The other part of the problem was the total lack of chemistry. No magic.

  Call me crazy, but if and when I settled down, I wanted it all. This relationship, if you could call it that, was a farce. I wanted love. I wanted insane lust, amazing sex, friendship, and the give and take of a true partnership. Anything less was settling, and I didn’t think I should have to settle any longer.

  ROSALEE WAS STRADDLING MY lap, flipping her flame-red hair over her shoulder, as we sat in the big shop out at Reaper and Steph’s house. It was the weekend barbeque, and the brothers and their families, or dates, were here to hang out, relax, drink some beer, and basically have a good time.

  It was mid-December and too cold and snow-covered to have it outside. Rosalee’s constant nagging about getting a property patch was getting on my damn nerves. I didn’t want a damn old lady, and if I did, it sure as hell wouldn’t be her. Sure, she had been a great distraction and had kept my bed pretty warm for the last few weeks, but that was all she was to me. She hadn’t ever been introduced as my girlfriend, and I shouldn’t have kept her around so long. I didn’t even invite her! It sounded like it was time to cut her loose. Past time. And, God help me, if she popped her damn gum in my ear one more time, I would straight-up dump her off my lap.

  “Hollywood,” she whined in that shrill screech, “all the other girls keep asking me when I’m getting my patch. I’m getting tired of making excuses to them. It’s embarrassing.” She pouted, sticking out her red bottom lip. Jesus, that color of red looked hideous with her hair—unlike someone else who wore just the perfect shade to set off her auburn hair.

  Fuck! Why did she have to creep in my head? Again!

  “Look, Rosalee, I’m not going to tell you again. I’ve been straight with you. I’m not looking for an old lady in you or anyone else. I told you in the beginning this would be for as long as it lasted and that’s it. Fucking drop it.” She just couldn’t get it through her thick-ass skull. It was bullshit about the other old ladies asking her about her patch, because I knew they didn’t care for her. Actually, that was being nice. They hated her.

  She continued to pout and rub her fake tits against my chest as she ruffled my hair and then licked my ear. Jesus, I really hated fake tits too. Fuck, she didn’t even get a rise out of my cock anymore. Definitely time to shitcan her.

  Pushing her off my lap, I stood and walked away from her without saying a word. Yeah, I was being a dick, and I didn’t really give a shit.

  Reaper and Steph were cuddled up in a lawn chair, and I watched his hand reach over and rub gently on her swollen belly. They still had about two months to go, but he coddled her like she was breakable. We all teased him, and Steph fought him tooth and nail when she wanted to do something he didn’t think was “safe” for her, like continuing to run the Oasis. Funny thing was, I felt a little jealous of them, wondering if that would ever be me. My old man was forever ragging on me about a grandbaby to spoil and teach to ride a bike. My answer was always: “So you want me to knock a girl up so you can have a grandbaby?” That earned me a scowl and a grumbled “Hell no!” every time. I chuckled at the thought of my scruffy, bearded biker dad as a grandpa to a handful of a little girl like Reaper’s girl, Remi. That would serve him right.

  Without thought, I plunged my hand down into the beer tub and pulled one out. The icy water ran off the bottle and my hand, trailing along the concrete of the shop floor. Shit, that was cold. My hand tingled from just the short submersion. The cap got tossed in a trash can as I
passed, and I tipped the ice-cold bottle to my lips. It didn’t matter what time of year it was, a cold beer always hit the spot. I just knew to watch how many I had because they invariably went down too damn good. Right now though, I didn’t care.

  Hacker stood talking to Dice, the club secretary, and Soap, one of the prospects. As I approached, they greeted me with shit-eating grins and a head nod toward Rosalee. Of course, Hacker and Dice had to give me shit about her. Motherfuckers. Hell, she was really becoming more trouble than she was worth.

  “Fuck you, assholes. That bitch is getting on my damn nerves. I’m ready to cut her ass loose. A steady piece of ass isn’t worth all her bitching, whining, and nagging about a property patch. She’s a fucking biker whore, and no one in their right mind would make her an old lady. Shit.” Metaphorically biting my tongue, I took another swallow of my cold beer. The condensation ran down the side and dripped on my chin, so I rubbed it off with the back of my other hand, hearing the scrape of whiskers.

  They laughed and slapped me on the back.

  “Just giving you shit, dude. How’s your old man doing? We don’t see him much in the winter. He hanging in there?” Hacker always remembered my old man and would sometimes go over to see him. Of course, he had known him since we were in high school and played football against each other. We became friends after football camp the summer after our freshman year. We had stayed friends ever since.

  “He’s got cabin fever something fierce,” I said with a laugh. My old man had been older when he had my sister and me. Our mom was fifteen years younger than he was, but they were insane for each other and us kids. We were a close family, and I loved him like crazy. He had never joined an MC, but had always been friendly with the Demented Sons and would often hang out with them and ride with them. Not being able to ride his bike in the winter drove him insane. If it was a nice day with sunny skies and no ice on the road, that crazy bastard would have his bike out riding.