Gigi: A Black Sentinels MC Novel

by Johns, Victoria

  I held my breath, desperate for her to accept the compromise.

  “Okay,” she finally conceded, and before she could change her mind, I had her washed down, in fresh bedclothes and settled back in bed. I did a cursory clean of the bathroom, being very liberal with the bleach as it absolutely stank, and threw open the windows to let in some air before checking on her one last time. I kissed her then ransacked her purse for the little money it had in it and left.

  I hopped in Momma’s old Toyota and prayed that it would start. If it didn’t then I was calling 911 for sure. I felt immediate relief when I heard the engine crank and kick into life.

  For the briefest moment I considered just driving, going as far as the tank of gas would take me. It was tempting until I remembered that my freedom would be at my momma’s expense. She was suffering and had been for a while. If Edward didn’t kill her while I was gone, he’d certainly leave her to die a slow death. Seeing her in pain gave him some twisted enjoyment.

  I had no idea where the nearest drug store was. I’d only ventured to the grocery store or school, but I wasn’t a complete recluse so I knew if kept driving I’d find one sooner or later.

  What I wasn’t prepared for was the highway I ended up on.

  I took a wrong turn and before I knew it, I was five miles further south than I needed to be. Just as I was beginning to feel comfortable with the sheer volume of cars around me, all driven by busy people with zero manners, the Toyota jolted forward and nose-dived.

  “What?”

  It picked up again so quickly that I could have missed it, but five minutes later as the next exit turn off was less than a mile away, it did it again. “No! Not now, you stupid fucking car.” Hearing me berate it caused it to stop all together and I had just enough engine speed left in the wheels to coast it to a stop on the side of the highway. “No! No! No!”

  This was my worst nightmare.

  I had no cell and about fifty bucks stuffed in my purse.

  I climbed out of the car, set on walking, and felt the breeze gust around me with the traffic as a big eighteen-wheeler cruised past and blared its horn. I thought my heart was going to jump out of my throat and leave me dead next to the stupid car. I only needed to walk to the next junction, but walking up the highway was definitely taking my life into my own hands. As I decided there was nothing else left to do but get on with it, a tow truck eased to a stop in front of me, pulled off onto the side and reversed back. “Oh, thank God.”

  My relief was cut short, though, when I saw the guy who climbed out of it. He was nothing to thank the God who continually screwed me over for.

  He was one of them. A biker.

  He was tall and lean, with a scruffy beard, and wore a leather cut. His jeans were baggy and there was a chain hanging from the belt loops to his pocket. I could see he was smiling but only because I saw lots of neat, white teeth. “You’re in luck, beautiful.”

  I froze.

  It was then that he took his shades off and his full beauty hit me. His eyes were the most expressive pair I’d ever seen. They sucked you in and spat you out again, leaving you all of a fluster. Now that I could see all of his face, I figured he wasn’t much older than me, but still he was a stranger. There was a skull of some kind tattooed on one of his forearms and I could see the words ‘Black Sentinels’ stitched on a patch on his leather vest. He was the sort of guy that the girls at school drooled over in the bathroom. I just knew it. He had the ability to rock your world and terrify you all at the same time.

  But I’d heard bikers at my house last night and they were scary as shit. This was bad news.

  “I said, you’re in luck. I just dropped a motor off. I can take you back to the autoshop and get you sorted.”

  “Autoshop?”

  “What’s wrong with it?” he asked, stepping closer, confirming that we were definitely close in age. I couldn’t take my eyes off his leather vest. It gave him this raw, downright dangerous edge.

  “Wrong?”

  “As cute as it that you keep repeating odd words back to me, the chances of us surviving this—” he swirled his finger around us “—lessens the longer we have this little back and forth on a six-lane highway, surrounded by speeding hunks of metal.”

  I looked around at where we were and he was right. Cars were whizzing past us. One lapse of concentration by any driver and we’d be toast. Looking back at him, I was reminded of last night. They dealt drugs and were bad people.

  “I can’t go with you.”

  “Have you called a tow already?”

  Of course I hadn’t. I didn’t have a cell, which would have been a lifesaver. I needed to start looking after me. This guy was a stranger and God only knew what would happen if I went with him. I looked around and attempted to judge the sprint distance for the top of the junction.

  “Don’t even think about it. My boss would string me up if I left a pretty little thing like you on the roadside.”

  Whoa.

  He thought I was pretty.

  “Can you take the car and leave me here?”

  “You’re joking, right?” He looked at me like I’d gone insane. “Darlin’…” He shook his head. “Roadkill or sex slave?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I ain’t leaving you here. If you don’t end up roadkill, some whack job will pick you up and drag you back to his redneck cabin.” It was on the tip of my tongue to shout that this was probably how I’d end up anyway. Only the cabin was my house and the whack job was my brother who thought it was acceptable to hand me over to his best friend. When I didn’t answer, he continued, “A sex slave is the new accessory these days.” I looked at him and his patch, and considered my very limited options. “What’s scarier: me?” He pointed at his patch. “Or the hillbilly flash forward I just provided?”

  I opened my mouth ready to tell him to leave me the hell alone as a huge truck thundered past and honked his horn, causing me to jump out of my skin and squeal.

  “Listen, I promise no funny business. Just gonna hitch up your motor and drive you, and it, to the autoshop.”

  “I need to call someone. Do you have a cell I could borrow?” I didn’t want to call Edward, but this thing was snow balling, and someone needed to know where I was and that Momma’s car had broken down.

  “Out here without a fuckin’ cell,” he mumbled. “That’s not sensible, but calling home is. I’ll even give you my name, address and cell number on a piece of paper. You keep it with you so you can show it to the police when you finally escape my torture chamber.” I froze and literally pivoted on the spot as he grabbed me. “I’m joking. Jesus fuck. Here’s the cell. Get in the cab, call whoever while I hitch up so we can be gone.”

  His words were a blur. All I could think about was how there was a man’s hand on my arm, and it didn’t hurt. He didn’t clench his fist like he was trying to break me. It was forceful but caring. Demanding but gentle. The contact was about reassurance and safety. I took the cell and made what could still have been a stupid decision to trust him before climbing into the front of the tow truck.

  I dialed the house phone and let it ring. I was hoping that by some miracle I wouldn’t have to talk to Edward, but there was no way momma was going to haul herself out of bed. Just as I was about to hang up, I heard the line connect.

  “Yeah,” my brother barked down the phone line as I nearly dropped the one I was holding. He was home in the middle of the day, and I had no idea why.

  “Edward, I—”

  “Where the fuck are you?”

  “Momma was sick,” I squeaked. “I went to get some medicine.” I was greeted with silence. I knew this was bad. “Momma’s car broke down so I’m getting a tow to an autoshop.”

  More silence.

  “I didn’t know what to do. There was blood in her vomit.”

  More silence until, “I know. Bitch called me, said you ignored her and went for help when she doesn’t need it,” before his clipped voice returned with, “What autoshop?”<
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  I couldn’t believe I’d left her in bed, half out it, and she’d managed to get herself back up and ring him. The one person she knew treated her like rubbish and would use this as an excuse to beat me for doing what I was doing. I was living on the edge enough as it was without Momma handing him more reasons to hate and punish me.

  “Ginny,” he warned, bringing me back to the present and reminding me he didn’t like to be kept waiting. “Answer the fucking question.”

  “Uh…” I reached for a card in a little holder on the dash. “Sentinels Autoshop.”

  “Fucking hell!” he roared. “I’m on my way and I’m displeased. I could do without the Sentinels getting up in my fucking business.”

  “Edward, I’m sor—” I was about to plead for my life and well-being when the driver’s door opened and the man climbed in. I didn’t need to continue; Edward had already cut me off.

  I was a dead girl walking.

  “You okay?” I looked at the guy sat next to me, shocked to see that he could tell something bad was going down in my pitiful little life.

  “We need to hurry, please?” I finished on a scared whisper.

  I felt his eyes probing mine as he took an honest look at the fear that I couldn’t hide in my face. In that moment, I felt something I’d never felt from anyone else before—sympathy. This random stranger knew I was in a tight spot. He didn’t understand why but he also didn’t care. He just wanted to make it all better. “It’ll be okay. Promise.”

  That was all he said.

  Just a few words.

  And with those few words, I felt safer with this guy than I’d ever felt since Daddy had died—so safe I refused to ignore it.

  Gears

  Mom had always said I was a sucker with a bleeding heart, and even though I was terrified of getting tied down too young, I vehemently disagreed with her. The fact that I’d made it through high school and done a whole year as a prospect with the Black Sentinels MC without knocking anyone up was a major achievement. I deserved a medal.

  The girls that hung around the club were insane.

  Don’t ever let anyone tell you that the way to a girl’s heart is fancy chocolates and flowers. It’s bullshit. You just need a black leather vest, a few tattoos and the roar of a Harley. They swarmed around like bees to a honey pot, and I was more than happy to take what they offered. I might have only been a prospect, but these bitches weren’t stupid. They knew that one day I’d be a full brother, and in those parts you were either a kept woman, a career bitch or a biker babe.

  That was until I picked up the shy little mouse on the highway.

  It was the first time someone had looked at my cut and been terrified. Sure, I’d seen plenty of people looking at my brothers that way, but never me. I still had my prospect’s patch, but she didn’t care. Being a prospect usually meant I was fair game and if you needed someone to treat like your bitch, I was it.

  This girl, though, she had looked past the prospect patch and took me seriously.

  I threatened her.

  Me.

  I was going to have some fun at her expense, you know, take the piss a bit and flex my prospect muscles until she cottoned on that I wasn’t anyone important, but all that changed when I climbed into the cab of the tow truck.

  I’d given her my cell to call and let someone know where we were taking her broken down piece of shit and left her to it.

  This girl might have been afraid of me, but whoever was on the end of that line scared her more, and no one should be that scared.

  And fuck, she was pretty.

  Not like in the obvious way the chicks I usually hooked up with were pretty. Her beauty was soul deep, but unfortunately so was her sadness.

  Her eyes.

  God, her eyes killed me. The white was so clear, the kind of clarity that only comes from shedding too many tears.

  Her clothes hung off her body and had that nearly clean look to them. I could smell fresh shampoo, simple, basic drugstore stuff, not tarty fragranced hair product stuff, and when the breeze from her open window caught it right, it sent strands flying in her face. The simple action of her pulling it out of her eyes and lips to tuck it behind her ear was endearingly innocent, but made me want lean closer and feel it, to see if it was as soft as it looked.

  When I leant across the dash and reached for the glove box, she flinched and shied away from me like I would burn her. I spooked her that much I decided not to bother. I watched as she tried to steady her breathing and put on a brave face to act like I hadn’t just caused her to jump out of her skin.

  I thought about talking to her, but I wasn’t sure she’d answer, and I was more worried that I’d scare her stupid and she’d try to run.

  The purse she clutched had seen better days. If I’d had to guess, I’d have said it was either old or second hand from a thrift store. Whatever she had in there she was guarding with her life.

  “Here we are.” I turned off the road onto the asphalt, towards the autoshop. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head when she saw the sign with our club insignia on. Her whole body tensed. “Don’t worry. You’re safe here.”

  I watched as she considered this thought. Clearly the jury was still out on whether she trusted me.

  Forget that—whether she trusted anyone period.

  Normally, I’d ask a customer to climb out and wait in the office. We had some old chairs and a machine that produced coffee the color of old motor oil, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep her next to me—close enough that I could make sure she wasn’t scared about being here, and if I was honest, I didn’t want one of my brothers to happen upon her and get ideas in their head.

  This girl wasn’t the kind they could toy with. They’d break her, and it seemed her spirit was broken enough. Props to her, though; she hid it well. If I hadn’t witnessed the aftermath of the phone call she’d made, I’d have missed it myself and just put it down to a young girl being alone with a biker and well… stranger danger.

  “You gonna give me a name?”

  “Uh… Ginny, but I prefer Gigi.”

  I looked at her face and smiled. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

  If I hadn’t still been staring at her beautiful face, I would have missed the slight blush to her cheeks, which made her cute as well as beautiful.

  “Well, Gigi, climb out and I’ll take you to my boss. He can get your details sorted while I unhook your motor.”

  JP, my boss and president, would not be impressed I was treating him as a glorified admin assistant, but I wasn’t leaving her with anyone else. JP would treat her the same as he treated his daughter, Angel—like glass. Like a precious ornament that would shatter if you handled it wrong.

  I thought about helping her down from the tow’s cab, but she was already out and looking around.

  “Who do we have here?” JP was already headed our way, a greasy bandanna wrapped around his forehead, with another hanging out of his ass pocket and a third he was cleaning his oily hands on.

  “This is Ginny. I picked her and the Toyota up on the highway.” I didn’t want to introduce her as Gigi. I was keeping that just for me.

  “Okay, Ginny. You have a surname?”

  “Livingston,” she told him.

  His face muscles clenched instantly before he plastered a smile back on. “You need me to call someone? A taxi? Or can you hang while we have a look? We may be able to get it moving again,” I heard him ask as I wandered out to look at her car.

  Another brother, Wave, walked over and joined them. I didn’t hear what he said, but she giggled as JP laughed.

  Wave was like that. He looked like he was fresh from California’s Venice Beach; he was just missing the surfboard or skateboard. He was the only brother who regularly wore his leather cut with no t-shirt, and was the ultimate chick magnet because of it. The sun tan, muscles and sun-bleached blond hair just added to the package.

  Hearing her laugh would have been the sweetest music if it hadn’t been him that ca
used it, but I figured if I walked over there and kicked his fucking ass, it would probably scare her again. Lucky for her, I was bothered enough about her feelings not to, lucky for Wave, too. Under normal circumstances I’d have had my fist in his face already, trying to unhinge his perfect LA jaw line, but as he was a full brother and I was still a prospect it wouldn’t have been a smart move.

  The pretty girl laughed again as a car squealed up to front of the garage. Her whole frame suddenly went solid and then she did what she had done in the tow truck—breathed quick and shallow before putting on a brave face. I knew this was the trouble that had her scared and was a few steps from intervening when JP put a hand on my shoulder.

  A big looking guy, not too much older than me, climbed out of the passenger seat. A tall, redneck bastard followed him from the drivers’ side. Both were dressed in work gear from the factory. The passenger had dark curly brown hair, tanned skin and a face like thunder, but the other guy… He looked at her like she was meat on a skewer. One flick of the head of the curly haired motherfucker and she went running, mid conversation with JP and Wave. I watched as he grabbed her around the back of the neck possessively and shoved her in the passenger side of the broken down Toyota that JP was about to start checking over.

  “Stay,” JP ordered, looking at me, and headed over to talk to him. The talk didn’t look friendly, but I watched as JP grabbed a spare battery and a couple of jump cables from the floor and got it going. The guy who had put his hands on her climbed in the front of Gigi’s car while the other waited for them to take off first before following, like he was on guard duty.