Peaches: MC Romance (The Unholy Confessions Book 1)

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Peaches: MC Romance (The Unholy Confessions Book 1) Page 7

by Laura Christopher


  "Nala, babe," the way he was looking at me, I felt like I was an object and not a living breathing person.

  "Move"

  Smirking, he looked to see if anyone was close enough to hear us, "Excuse you?"

  "Move," repeating the word only angered him more. It was as though these tiny little fires appeared in his eyes. Those flames were turning his dark brown eyes, black in contrast.

  "Nala, you need to be very careful."

  "We're done," keeping my voice firm and strong, I was proud when those two little words were finally said aloud. Words I should have been saying a long time ago, god I should have said them years ago.

  "Excuse you?" He repeated once again, lowering not only his eyes but his voice too.

  "Me and you, we're done, you can go and be with Camila" in my gut, I knew that there was without a doubt something going on between them. The way he watched her when she walked through the hallways. Those brown eyes lingered too long on her long and perfect legs.

  "No," he growled, pressing his body against mine and pushing me further into the lockers. "Sorry, not going to happen, babe."

  "I wasn't asking," Stay strong, Nala.

  Grabbing me by the wrist suddenly, he tried to drag me into the girl's bathroom, the very same one I had been in with Claire earlier this morning. But stopped when someone walked past looking at us closely. And when the very same person, one of the jocks, said his name, he dropped it like it was on fire.

  The look on Barlow’s face made it clear he was watching his teammate closely, very closely. Barlow was one of the nicest on the team, and probably the most talented too. His eyes cut to mine, full of unspoken questions.

  "This is not over," Brandon growled into my ear, "I say when this is over, and it is not over."

  "That is exactly what it is, Brandon, this" I waved my hand between the two of us, stepping further away from him in the process as he backed away from me. My voice rising was catching the attention of those around us. "It's over, don't speak to me again."

  "You and I are end game. She is a means to an end," he was getting closer to me again, and I felt sick with the proximity. Did he realise that he had just admitted he had been sleeping with Camila behind my back, in front of everyone?

  "So that's what this is about?" Because I didn't sleep with him anymore? It's not that there was a specific reason or anything as to why I didn't want to. There just was not any part of me that desired to be with him in that way, not even a little "You and her?"

  "She's easy, and you won't put out."

  "You are disgusting."

  "Everything okay?" Barlow finally spoke, dropping a hand on Brandon's shoulder.

  "Keep out of it, Barlow," Brandon shouted, shaking his teammates hold off of him, and everyone gasped around us.

  "You okay, Nala?" Barlow was ignoring his teammate. For the first time, someone was standing up to him from his circle of 'friends.'

  "Keep your damn mouth shut, Nala," Brandon’s voice turned dark and quiet. The kind of quiet that sends unpleasant shivers down your spine.

  "You do not get to touch me or speak to me again; I don't want to hear you say my name or even look in my direction. You disgust me, Brandon" I was shouting now, and Barlow looked ready to rip my ex-boyfriend away from me at any moment. Half of the student body had stood frozen in the hallway watching the performance we were putting on right now. All of us were about to be late for class.

  "Let's see what your parents have to say about that, shall we?”

  This made me freeze in place.

  What the hell did he mean by that?

  True, we had only been around each other because our parents socialized before, but it was like I was only allowed to be with him from the way he was talking. He was crazy. Mentally unstable.

  Is this what my mom was referring to about marrying him?

  Were they all in this together?

  Not giving him the chance to say another word, I pivoted on my heels and all but ran towards my next class to get out of here. Aware of Barlow's heavy stare on my back as I fled.

  This day could not end soon enough.

  Finding Claire waiting for me at the school's exit, I let out a breath when we finally could escape, getting out of this building that had felt like a prison all damn day. However, my foot stopped mid-step, making Claire jolt.

  "What is it?"

  Standing no more than ten feet away, leaning against his matte black Harley Davidson was Ashby. What was he doing here?

  At the exact moment that his eyes connected with mine, a blur of a man's body came out of the building and made a beeline for him, Mr. Bronx.

  What was it Ashby had called him last night?

  Harley?

  That was it.

  Harley Bronx.

  No guesses as to what his parents named him after, I suppose.

  "Errrr, Nala," Claire pulled my attention away from Ashby and to the other side of the lot. "Isn't that your mom's car?" She nodded her head, where I knew my own car had been parked when I arrived this morning.

  "When is this day going to end?" It just kept getting worse and worse. I should have just stayed in bed at the clubhouse and saved myself the energy that today had drained me of.

  "Five weeks," my best friend suddenly said, keeping me held in place as students moved around us. All were escaping to their own little bubbles outside of the walls of Hudson High.

  "What?" Turning to her, I screwed my nose up. What was she on about? Five weeks, to what?

  "Five weeks till graduation. I say we pack up your car and just drive outta this town and never look back."

  Unable to hold in a laugh. I could tell that she was only half-serious. Claire already had plans to become a plumber, just like her mom once we had graduated, I was not about to let her bail on those plans.

  "Nala Reeves," My mom's acid-like voice stopped me from replying to my best friend. It was time to face the music, throwing one glance over at Ashby, who seemed to be in a heated debate with my English teacher. I dropped my best friend's arm and walked towards my so-called mother.

  People were staring at me as I passed. It seemed as though I was giving them one hell of a show today between Brandon and me, and now whatever this was.

  "What are you doing here?" Pulling my car keys out of my bag, I stopped beside her too white car. It was ridiculously oversized, considering it was only ever her in it. Another way of her showing off to all of her ‘friends’.

  "Where did you go last night? Because when I woke up at three, you were not at home".

  Giving her a hard, long look, I realised that she was not one bit sorry about what she had done to put me in the hospital. I was never going to get any form of an apology from her.

  Stepping away slightly, I knew this was not the place to be having this discussion, there were way too many people around, and I had already given them enough of a show earlier. Brandon and I had been the talk of the school for the rest of the day after our altercation in the hall.

  "Get in the car, Nala" she opened the door to her white monstrosity of a car and pointed a red-painted finger at the passenger seat. "Now."

  "I have my own car," which I still didn't know how it had gotten here, but I found the keys tucked in the glove compartment at lunch. A part of me thought that maybe Ashby had dropped it off last night before I had sent him that message to come and get me.

  "Now Nala"

  "Make me" was all I could say, my eyes looked over her shoulder. Ashby's own were glued to us, watching like an eagle soaring in the sky, stalking its prey.

  "Nala, you need to come home. We need to sort out what I have been hearing about you breaking up with Brandon".

  "I'm sorry, what the hell has that got to do with you?"

  How had she heard about it?

  Had he called her?

  The words from earlier rang in the back of my mind. We'll see what your parents have to say.

  "Your father is going to be very disappointed when he hears this n
ews, very disappointed."

  "Why?"

  "Nala"

  "Seriously, mom, why the hell would he give a damn about it? I mean, I don't even know the last time he bothered to turn up and see us. Why is he going to care that I broke up with a guy who treats me like a belonging?"

  Suddenly, the almost deafening rumbling of a bike made the entire schools population silence. I knew without even looking who it was.

  Ashby pulled up right beside us, his eyes focused solely on me. "Get on," when I hesitated, his voice seemed to get impossibly deeper, "get the fuck on now, Peaches."

  Handing me a matte black helmet, he didn't even give my mom one look. My mom, who was practically growling beside us as he got off the bike.

  "Here," pushing my hair behind my ears, his touch sent flames throughout my body as he pushed the helmet firmly down onto my head. Tapping the side, "There you go, a little big, but it'll do, for now," what did he mean by that?

  "What the hell do you think you are doing?" mom finally found her voice. Her sharp nails grabbed at my wrist, but I pulled away quicker than she could move at the same time as Ashby moved, blocking me from her view.

  Stepping closer once again, I thought he was about to go in for a kiss. Instead, though, he simply tugged at the straps of my backpack. "Gotta make sure it's nice and tight."

  My heart was thumping in my chest, begging for his touch. Skin on skin. I could not have wiped the smile off my face if someone asked me too. Neither could he. He really was beautiful, and when he smiled, it was a whole other level.

  For the first time in my life, I felt like I was finally exactly where I was mean to be. With him. As though I was no longer merely floating in the abbesses of this world. I no longer felt like I was no one when he was looking at me.

  Somehow the bike got more intimidating the closer you were to it.

  Gracefully he moved backward before swinging his leg over the matte black bike, not once looking anywhere else than at me. Mom was just standing there with an open mouth and flames behind her eyes.

  "Get on, Peaches," his eyes were twinkling. Those blue eyes were doing things to me, bringing emotions to the surface that had never seen the light of day before.

  "Nala Reeves, I swear if you so much as…." My ears cut off anything else my mom was saying to me, all too consumed with him.

  Taking a deep breath and not letting my brain talk me out of it, I took one last look at my mom. I didn't even hesitate to throw my leg over the machine getting behind him.

  My hands hung limply for a moment. Sensing my reluctance, he wrapped his fingers around my wrists and pulled my arms to circle his waist.

  "Link your fingers together, tightly," following his instructions and feeling disappointment when his touch left my body. "Do. Not. Let. Go"

  Suddenly the bike revved to life. It was almost deafening and the feel of it under me. God, it was like nothing I had ever experienced.

  The white tee clinging to my skin was unrecognizable. Red stained it as though it had been the original color. Drops of blood dripping onto the floor at my feet. Flexing my knuckles, I realised that they were also caked in blood, so much of his blood, I was unable to see my own skin beneath it.

  Daryl was standing on bent knees as he spoke, far too quietly for me to hear the words. Anger flew through his veins like an angry snake that has been disturbed from its hunt. Ready to kill. Tiger and Maxi flagged on either side of him, their faces void of any emotion.

  The skinny, twig-like member of The Soulless MC sat wide-eyed. This poor sack of shit was in way over his head, a prospect. Pinky had caught him trying to sell crack on our patch after an O.D case turned up in the emergency room.

  We may be bikers, but we were about keeping that shit off our streets and the people safe. That included everyone, not just our crew and associates. I had seen too much of what could happen if we allowed it to bleed into our streets. My own mom died because of it; I wouldn't allow anyone else too. Not because of scum like them, him.

  Don't get me wrong, I had seen Daryl kill people. Watched as they gasped for that last breath before their body gave up on them before the spark of life died in their eyes.

  We weren't to be messed with, and people knew that. The people who needed to know knew. I had caused my own destruction on people, but I had never taken a life. Not yet, at least. There was no doubt that one day I may have to in this life that I lived. It was just the way it was, but it didn't mean that I had to like that fact.

  Feeling my cell phone vibrate in my blood-soaked jeans' back pocket, I daren't move to see what or who it was. Peaches?

  "Now, what are we going to do with you, huh?" Daryl stood from his kneeling position, giving me a full view of the about to be a dead prospect. Blood was pouring down his pale face. He almost looked like a ghost. As though he was almost about to take his last breath, and he probably was.

  "Do we send you back alive or dead?" This guy had barely said two words since we picked him up, just like how he and we, in turn, had been trained to be in this kind of situation. You don't say shit. "What do you think will give the best message, huh? What would your Pres do if it was the other way around?"

  We all knew that he was not getting out of here alive. He would never get to see the outside of this very room we were in. Never feel the sun on his skin or fill his lungs with fresh air. Never feel a woman wrapped around his body again. His life was over, and it had barely begun. He could not be older than nineteen.

  Nineteen years old, and because of him, a fifteen-year-old boy was in a hospital bed after having his stomach pumped because of the shitty drugs he had been selling in our town. The bonus of having Marilyn working at White Church Memorial Hospital meant that when these cases came in, we could get on that shit. Put the god damned trash out.

  He tried to say something, but it just came out as a garbled sound due to the amount of blood.

  Pulling out the large hunting knife from his belt and turning it over in his hand several times. Daryl sighed, acting as though he was genuinely giving this some thought.

  "Nah, keeping you alive, what would be the fun in that?" Not even a second later, the blade he had been holding slid across the guy's throat. Watching the blood pour down his entire front made my stomach tighten.

  Wiping the bloody blade on Maxi's tee, Daryl turned around. "Sort this mess out," and then he stormed past me as though his ass was on fire.

  "Yeah, I'm not doing it this time," Pinky backed away from his spot next to me. "All yours fuckers, I need to shower and get to the parlor."

  Chuckling, I followed my friend, my ass needed a shower too, and to burn these god damned clothes.

  Peaches had been on my mind all night since the very fucking second, we parted in the hall. Hell, this chick had been on my mind since she walked into the tattoo parlor in that tight and short as hell cheerleader get up.

  When sleep was unobtainable, I ended up grabbing an unopened bottle of Jack, contemplating drinking the entire fucking thing before dropping it in the trash. Without knowing what I was doing, I found myself in her room. The door had been locked but not the adjoining bathroom, so I had gone through from the other empty bedroom next door. She slept like the dead; for a second, I had actually worried she was, but her chest was rising, and I had found myself just watching her sleep until almost six in the morning. Knowing that if she was to wake, she would tell me what a creepy fucking pervert I was, being so many years older than her but damn it. I was fucking fascinated by this chick. Every part of me wanted her but seeing this part of my life made me doubt it.

  Marilyn's words last night echoed those thoughts. She had enough bullshit going on and knowing that fucking Matthews was involved with her was another added complication. I wonder what she would do if she knew?

  Stepping out of the room and taking some deep breaths, I looked down to see what had made my phone vibrate. Disappointment filled me as I realized it was not from the girl, I wanted it to be from.

  Molly.

&
nbsp; Quickly showering and throwing on a change of clothes, I made my way out of the clubhouse. Hound was working on a blue Cadillac in the small workshop we had. Sitting on a box a little way away from him, I lit a cigarette. Taking a drag, my eyes spotted Doc's telltale red hair across the street. She was marching right towards me, with power in every step.

 

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