UnScrew Me (Savage Beast MC Book 1)

by Hayley Faiman

  Alone at thirty-two, essentially moving to a new town to start over, is not what I saw for myself. I’ve never been married, not even close, this isn’t how I saw things unfolding.

  Maybe something magical will happen here, or maybe, I’ll just buy some animals to keep me company and die a spinster.

  SILVER

  Pulling into the clubhouse with Buster on the back of my bike, I park and kill the engine. We both amble off of my machine. I don’t let the boy run off, I wrap my hand around his shoulder, just as he finishes taking the helmet off.

  “Want to explain your detention to me?” I demand.

  He shrugs. I wait. His black eyes meet mine and he finally gives in.

  “Parker told me my dad was a gang banger, and he called me a wetback,” he grinds out, his fists clenching and his black eyes swirling.

  I frown. “Your teacher gave you detention for defending yourself?” I demand.

  He shakes his head. “Didn’t tell her why I got in a fight with Parker. Just socked him in the stomach and moved on. Shook it off like you tell me to,” he mumbles, his little foot kicking a rock in front of him.

  Crouching down, I get on the same level as my boy. We been over this a million times. This isn’t anything new. We’re half Mexican, half mutt. People are assholes, they’re intolerant and they teach that to their kids, even if they don’t do it intentionally. That shit trickles.

  “Be proud to be a son of Savage Beast’s. That kid, he ain’t worth shit, but you stood up for yourself and I’m proud of you. Next time, you get in a fight for rightfully defending yourself, don’t let them slap you with detention. You have them call your Old Man.”

  Buster lifts his little chin, a bit of pride now filling him instead of the angry defeat of earlier. I give his shoulder a bit of a shake before I pull him in for a small hug. “Proud of you boy,” I murmur against the top of his head, pressing my lips to his hair. “Now, go off and play, yeah?”

  He doesn’t verbally respond, I watch as he rushes behind the clubhouse. Most of the guys are single so he doesn’t have a ton of kids to play with, but there are a few milling around today. I watch him as he approaches the group of girls that are his age. I’m sure they’re going to get into some shit and I shake my head. Fuck it. Let them get in trouble. At least none of those kids will be calling him names.

  “You take a look at that newest shipment?” Wolfe asks, tossing his cigarette onto the ground. He grinds his heel into the flame, killing it and I let out a heavy sigh.

  “Mattress orders have been consistently fucked for the past five years. Don’t know what’s going on at the factory, but I’m going to have to look into switching suppliers,” I explain.

  “Buyers won’t like that. They like the brand we got, they like what’s inside them too.”

  Clearing my throat, I run my fingers through my hair. “I know. They’ll still get their product but Cristo, not sure they want to wait for this slow as fuck company to get the mattresses here either. Feels like our hands are tied a bit,” I mumble. “There’s so much we need to coordinate for these shipments, everything has to be done in a timely manner.”

  “Think it’s time that maybe we visit the owner of the company, again. Where’s he out of anyway?”

  I chuckle, leaning back against the wall of the clubhouse. “Dallas. Twelve hour plus drive, brother,” I point out.

  Wolfe grunts. “Then it’s due. We haven’t seen him in a while, and it seems that he or his people can’t get their shit together. I think it’s time for that visit.”

  I crack my knuckles with a smirk. “Yeah, agreed. Wonder if his daughter still lives at home with him.”

  “Brother,” he laughs.

  I shrug. “She was eighteen. Probably in her mid-twenties now. Bet that pussy’s still sweet.”

  He shakes his head. “Yeah, bet that rich girl cunt is all sorts of sweet. Kind of nice to dip into clean pussy every now and then,” he mutters.

  “No fucking doubt, brother.” He opens his mouth, promptly closing it before he does it again, obviously itching to speak. “You taking Savanna her cash this month? Or a prospect?”

  Just her name sends a sense of dread through my body. I’ve given up on us ever being anything, anything at all. She’s spent the past two decades pining over a man who hasn’t even bothered to call and check up on her, or their kid. I know he’s still alive, he checks in with Dragon consistently.

  None of that means that I don’t still want her. None of it means that I can stop thinking about sinking into her sweet cunt. Son of a bitch, I still want the woman. She’s a fucking pain in my ass, yet I’m still thinking about her.

  “I got it,” I grumble.

  “You gotta give that shit up. It’s been almost twenty years,” he informs.

  Lifting my hand, I wrap it around the back of my neck and squeeze to attempt to relieve the tension. “Gave up five years ago, brother. Let her go,” I murmur.

  Wolfe barks out a harsh laugh. “No, you really fuckin’ didn’t. Still haven’t let her go. You breathe, you fuck, you take care of your boy, but you don’t live. You don’t have a good woman. You don’t have a home to call your own. You don’t have a family. You got your boy, your club, and your bike.”

  “You got your bike and your club, yet here you are lecturing me, hermano,” I point out.

  He takes another cigarette out of his pack and slips it between his lips, then lights it before he speaks. “You don’t know why that’s all I got and why I like it just as it is.” I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it. “You got a boy that needs a good woman to be his mama. You got that in you, brother, to make a good woman happy. You’re forty-five years old. It’s time to settle, and not with some whore you and everyone else has used.”

  Wolfe walks away, and I let out a sigh. I whistle to Buster who stops, turns toward me, then waves off his friends as he jogs my way.

  “Gotta go see Sav and Trista, wanna ride?”

  His eyes shift to the side and I see Dragon’s little girl staring after him. Fuck. “Can I stay?” he asks.

  “Not today, niño,” I chuckle. “You got your whole life to look at pretty girls. That one you can never touch though, so you might as well let the dream die right here and now.”

  “Why, papá?” he asks, his eyes knowing yet innocent all at the same time.

  I slap his back a couple of times. “I’ll tell you when you’re a little older, yeah?”

  He frowns. “I know all about sex, papá. You taught me about it over the summer,” he says, rolling his eyes.

  “I know I did, niño. This has to do with other shit, but I’m not getting into it today. Kora ain’t yours to have. That’s all you need to know right now. I’ll explain why, later on, just know she will always be off limits.”

  I watch as my son’s determined gaze meets hers again, and I wonder if I’ve awoken a sleeping giant. The will and determination my boy has, I’m wondering if I just made his eight-year-old heart pick and choose who he can’t have.

  Fuck.

  “Let’s go,” I grunt.

  Together we walk out to my bike. He straps his helmet on as I straddle my machine. Once he’s settled behind me, we ride.

  Chapter Two

  SILVER

  Savanna opens the door, a smile on her otherwise tight face. Buster rushes up to her, then right past her, and I know where he’s headed. Straight for her kitchen. Sav always has some kind of treat in her place, unlike me. I don’t bake, and my cooking skills leave something to be desired. Wolfe is right, I need a good woman not only for Buster but for me, too.

  “Here you go, Trista around?” I ask as I hand her the envelope of cash.

  Savanna’s eyes narrow as she looks at me. “Why do you want to know?” she asks.

  Shaking my head, I don’t like what she’s even attempting to insinuate. “Because I practically raised the girl. I’d like to know if she’s around so I can fuckin’ say hi. Not going to try and stick my dick into a girl I think
of as a daughter, Sav. Cristo,” I hiss.

  Sav shrugs. “I know how you guys are. Plus, I’ve seen how young the talent is at your clubhouse. You’re fucking girls her age, don’t deny it.”

  Leaning forward, I lift a brow. “Jealous?”

  She snorts, her eyes shifting, showing her tell. She is. But she won’t let her past go enough to do anything about it, and I don’t fuck someone who is thinking about another man. Ironic right?

  Savanna doesn’t respond, she steps to the side and allows me entrance into her house. Trista is there, sitting on the couch, her head bent as she talks to Buster in a whisper. I grin at them. She’s been my babysitter for him since she could drive. I don’t know what I’ll do when she leaves this town, which she should have done a few years ago.

  “Hey, girl,” I murmur walking over to her. I set my palm on her shoulder and give her a squeeze.

  “Mom busting your balls again?” she asks, lifting a brow.

  I snort. “Somethin’ like that,” I admit.

  She looks past me, presumably at her mother, then shifts her gaze back toward me. “Don’t worry about her. Hey you still need me this weekend?” she asks.

  I blow out a breath, running my fingers through my hair. “Need to know if you could watch him for about a week? I need to run to Dallas on Monday.”

  Savanna makes a noise from behind me, but I continue to ignore her. Trista looks to her mom, then to me. “Yeah, I can do that. I’m on the list for school right?”

  “Yeah, you are. It’s only the week, I should be back by Saturday.”

  Trista shrugs. “We’ll have fun won’t we Bust?”

  Buster looks up to her, then to me, a wide smile on his face. I shake my head. Fuckin’ shit. This kid. “Yeah,” he grins.

  “It’s like I’m looking at a mini-you,” Savanna mutters from behind me.

  “C’mon niño, let’s go,” I call out.

  He stands and walks out of the house and over to the bike. I follow behind him, only to have Savanna grab ahold of my arm. I stop, looking back at her, waiting for her to speak. She releases me, but I don’t move, I wait. Like the fucking idiot I am, I fucking wait.

  “My offer, even after all these years is open, Silver. We’d be good together.”

  I shake my head. “He’d be in my bed, and darlin’ I don’t share,” I grunt.

  “But you do. You share me with every woman you take to bed,” she whispers, knowingly.

  “That’s my shit, my cross to bear and I feel like a fucking asshole every time I get off,” I admit.

  She lifts her hand again, this time her cool fingers touch my cheek for just a second before they fall. “We’re both fucked up, but maybe we could find a bearable life together, you and me.”

  Taking a step back, I sigh. “At the risk of sounding like a fucking pussy. I don’t want bearable, Sav.”

  I don’t elaborate. I turn around and I leave her standing in her entryway. She continues to offer me the same shit, time and time again. She isn’t over Hawk and it’s in a way where I don’t think she ever will be. If the fucker died, she’d still be waiting for him to darken her doorway, and I can’t live like that.

  Leaving her, I head toward home. I need to get my boy fed, and put to bed. He has school tomorrow and I need to get some shit together for my meeting in Dallas. I also need to figure out who I’m taking with me, this is not something I need to ride out solo on.

  Although the mattress factory’s owner is harmless, I still need someone to watch my back, because I have to ride through Sinister Skull territory, and those are some mean and unpredictable fucks.

  PRESLEY

  I hear Benjamin yelling in the hall, looking up from my peanut butter sandwich, I frown. I’m preparing myself to get used to them. I have a feeling when I drop my car off at the mechanic’s shop after work, I’m going to be eating them for a good long while.

  Standing, I brush my hands off and rush out of my class. Benjamin’s eyes meet mine and he shouts at me to go back inside. He’s holding two boys by the backs of their collars. One is Buster, the other a smart assed little shit in the other third grade class, Parker.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Buster turns his head, he’s got a little bit of blood trickling from his nose and I gasp. My eyes swing over to Parker who has one eye already swelling, he has some blood on his lip, and when he spits on the ground, it’s blood. I look down and notice a little white tooth on the ground.

  Shit.

  There’s no sweeping this one under the rug. “What happened?” I ask.

  “I said go back to your classroom, Miss Gray,” Benjamin barks.

  My spine straightens, and I narrow my gaze on him slightly. “Mr. Reed,” I grind out.

  He doesn’t realize or maybe doesn’t appreciate my warning tone. He lifts his weak chin and narrows his gaze, waiting for me. “Buster is going straight to the principal’s office,” he announces.

  Parker smirks, but Buster looks resigned. “I think both boys need to go to the principal’s office,” I offer.

  It’s Buster’s turn to smirk, but I don’t react to him, even though I want to match him smirk-for-smirk. Benjamin is pissing me off. I don’t take kindly to anyone telling me how to teach or treat a student. I definitely don’t appreciate someone who shows obvious favoritism. I won’t stand for it. Wrong is wrong, right is right, no matter who the person is behind the action.

  “Buster threw the first punch,” Benjamin smart asses.

  I narrow my gaze toward him, not wishing to fight in front of the children. “How about we leave the reprimanding and decision up to the principal? It’s not up to us to decide who to take down there. They both go, tell their story, then the principal decides.”

  Benjamin growls, the rumble comes from his chest as Buster wriggles out of his grasp. Together, the four of us walk down to the principal’s office.

  Mr. Baylor looks between me, Benjamin, and both boys. “What did Mr. Hernandez do?” he asks.

  My head jerks back in surprise. Mr. Baylor was the man who hired me. I sat down to an orientation with just him. The district is miniscule, and I thought it odd, but he said he wanted me on his team. He was given a stack of resumes and he hand-picked me to teach third grade here.

  He seemed like one of the nicest men I’d ever met. I’m rethinking my initial reaction of him and wondering if I am a terrible judge of character.

  Buster stays silent, his gaze focused on the carpet in front of him. I chew on the corner of my bottom lip, nervous for him, and pissed off for him all at the same time.

  “Miss Gray, you can go back to your class now,” Mr. Baylor announces.

  I frown, looking from Buster to Mr. Baylor. “Can an aide go in there while we deal with this together?” I ask.

  I feel Buster’s gaze on me, but I don’t look away from the principal. He frowns, his eyes cutting over to Benjamin. My jaw clenches. I already know what he’s going to say. “Back to class, Miss Gray. I’ll deal with this properly, don’t you worry about anything,” he says dismissing me.

  Closing my eyes for a breath, I stand, my hands fisting at my sides. I feel something touch my arm, and I glance down. Buster is looking up at me, a sad smile on his little face. “It’s okay Miss Gray, I got this,” he whispers.

  My heart breaks, it shatters immediately for this boy. I don’t say anything, I reach for his hand giving it a small squeeze before I turn and head back to my class. I spend the next hour watching the door and the clock simultaneously and attempt to teach my class.

  The last bell rings and I frown, wondering why Buster didn’t come back to class. The door finally opens, and it’s him walking in, just as I’m dismissing the class for the day.

  “Buster?” I ask as he walks over to his chair. He slumps down and stares at his desk. I frown, standing, but freeze when a shadow fills the doorway.

  “Boy,” a deep voice growls.

  Turning my head to see who that voice belongs to, my entire body goes soli
d as stone. It’s the man from the motorcycle yesterday, however, I wasn’t prepared to see him up close. He is breathtaking. Absolutely gorgeous. He looks like he stepped out of a rough and rugged magazine and into this classroom.

  His hair is longer than I should find attractive, black and thick. His beard the same. He is tall, his legs long and thick, they fit perfectly in his worn jeans. He has a few holes in them, but not because he bought them that way, they’ve been worn and worn deliciously so.

  His boots are black, motorcycle ones, and I wonder what they look like next to whatever bed they reside. I bet they look just as sexy as I imagine.

  My eyes move up, taking in his lean hips and torso, his wide chest and shoulders, his thick tanned arms. Then his beard, and black eyes. His lips are full, I watch as they slowly smile, showing off straight white teeth. Shit. He totally caught me ogling, and I’m wondering how much I really care.

  I feel my face heat, and I lift my hands to my cheeks, as my gaze shifts over to Buster. He’s smirking at me, looking far too much like his father. I clear my throat, in an attempt to break the staring contest between the three of us.

  Walking around my desk, I make my way over to the man, tipping my head back as I attempt to look up into his eyes. He’s much taller than I initially thought. I’m wearing four-inch high heels, which make me around five-foot-eight, and he’s still an entire head taller than I am.

  “I’m Miss Gray,” I offer with a trembling voice and an outstretched hand.

  He tips his head, his eyes narrowing slightly, and he doesn’t take my fingers. I let my hand fall to my side, fisting it in an attempt to hide my embarrassment from the obvious rejection.

  “You Buster’s teacher?” he barks, all looks of flirtatiousness fleeting and replaced with hard harshness.