by Dale Mayer
One might have been fine, but when she was presented with one son and one daughter eight months later, she knew her life was blessed. The last eight months had been a flurry of moving, selling her house, and getting a nursery together, intermixed with special sessions of just holding and talking to her pregnant belly. A time of growing, commitment, and most of all, loving.
Morgan held the twins carefully. Both were wrapped in tiny blankets embroidered with little matching bikes in the corner. His gaze kept switching from one to the other. “I didn’t think I could ever feel like this. To have a family of my own…” Tears collected in the corner of his eyes.
She smiled and gently brushed them away. “That you have, now and forever.”
This concludes Biker Blues: Morgan.
Read the first Chapter of Biker Blues: Cash
Biker Blues: Cash
Chapter 1
The water swirled below her feet. The moonlight shone down on the dark scene from behind her, highlighting each ripple and wave under the bridge, shining on every curve and twist as the water led its own life down the river. She wondered if it was happy with its choices. Was it okay to do the same thing day after day? Did it mind when people dumped shit in it, poisoned its pure essence without a second thought? Did it get angry when a storm came and blew the trees down, forcing it to create different pathways? Did it care when the sun came out and drank gallons and gallons of its water into the atmosphere? Or was it sublime in its happiness to be what it could be, what it was always going to be – a river.
And she was a fool.
A fool who could only think about a river as if it were alive – when she was desperate to no longer be in the same state. Only the process of getting from live to dead was what was stopping her. She’d been unhappy for so long… No. Unhappy wasn’t the word. She’d been in pain. Desperate. Beaten. Broken. She’d been at the end of her rope for the last year and it was only getting worse. Ending it all was the only answer.
But was it?
How could she be afraid that he’d still follow her to whatever lay beyond – and maybe she wasn’t afraid of being followed as much as failing in her attempt to end her life and him finding out what she’d tried to do. If he succeeded where she failed, her life would be worse.
A broken laugh escaped. “No, it couldn’t be worse,” she whispered to the dark sky around her. A dark sky getting blacker with every moment. The moon was going behind the clouds as if it too didn’t want to see what she’d do next.
What she didn’t want to do.
But it’s what she had to do.
There was no tomorrow for her. He’d kill her one day. Bury her deep and no one would know. No one would care. Except him. He’d smile at the world around him, keeping the secret from everyone and happy about it on the inside. To know what no one else would know – yeah, he’d love that. At the same time, he’d be on the lookout for his next punching bag.
She felt sorry for that next victim.
Still, if she jumped, her body would show up sometime. Someone might notice the bruises, the breaks, and investigate. She’d love it if they would take a closer look at Greg.
For herself, there was only an overwhelming sense of guilt. She should have left a long time ago. She should have walked out when it first started. Should have. Could have. But didn’t. And somehow over time, it became okay. It became her normal. And everything that had been normal before ceased to exist.
As she sat on the bridge deck staring into the darkness, she wondered if she could work up the courage to jump.
After all, she hadn’t managed to work up the courage to leave her husband. To leave the man who’d tried to break her spirit for so long. That was the part that really hurt. The bones, not so much. They healed. Her emotions, her heart, her own sense of self-worth and that horrific guilt – they never healed. The more she fought, the worse it all became.
But she always chose to survive. Meaning she always gave in, up until now, though usually not until she’d become bloody and beaten – the same point as always. He was away today. Off doing something with his buddies. Something illegal she hoped. Her dearest wish was that someone somehow would do something and change the situation for her as she didn’t seem to be able to do it for herself. And that made her feel worse. But the truth was her options were non-existent and if no one else could help, the river was looking like the best choice available to her. He’d threatened to do something so abhorrent to her if she tried to escape again that she knew her life was over if she failed this time. She had only one chance.
Her escape had to be permanent this time.
She’d run away – twice. Both times he’d found her. Dragged her back. Beaten her until she couldn’t leave again.
The water whispered beneath her feet.
Welcoming her.
Calling to her.
Telling her it would be all right.
Reassuring her that this was the correct decision.
To join it in the everlasting flow of life.
She really wanted to feel that connection. That peacefulness. She slid closer to the edge of the platform. It would take so little to go over the edge. She could swim – a little. Not enough to hold out against the cold and the darkness. She’d last a few minutes, maybe. But then it would be over.
It would all be over.
Music to her ears.
She couldn’t handle the pain.
It was better this way.
It would be best for everyone if she just slipped off the edge into the waiting darkness. No one would ever know.
She’d be just another lost soul.
With that thought firmly in her mind, the need to be free of pain and torment, the first real chance she’d had to make the change she’d needed to make, she scooted her butt to the edge of the platform and glanced around. “Goodbye world. You were beautiful once.”
With effort, she shifted sideways, holding her injured arm close to her chest.
And hesitated. Fear and doubt filled her.
Her mind cast one more beseeching question – surely there was another way?
A man’s voice called out to her. Panicked, she looked through the railing. Someone was coming. Was it him? Please no. She couldn’t be caught.
“Wait.”
Oh thank God. It was a stranger’s voice.
“Let me help you,” he said, running toward her.
She didn’t know what to do. Soon it would be too late to do anything. She shifted her position, trying to see who it was. Did she know him? Was he a friend of her husband’s? He reached for her at the same time and she caught sight of his profile in the moonlight.
A cry escaped and she jerked backwards out of his grasp.
And she fell sideways off the bridge.
She shrieked in terror as she free-floated down into the cold below.
Someone shouted above her. Calling out to her.
Terrified and full of regrets now that it was too late as to what could have been, she almost laughed. She hadn’t been able to do this on her own. Fate had stepped in and made the decision for her.
Too late, she wished there’d been another way.
Then she hit the surface and the water closed over her head.
The force of the fall… The shock of the cold… The awareness that this was it… rendered her unable to move. She sank into the darkness and deeper into oblivion.
*
Cash had caught sight of the woman on the bridge. Instead of seeming to be sitting and enjoying the view, she’d been too preoccupied with the water churning below for his liking.
He’d eased back the throttle on his bike and had approached quietly, slowly, not wanting to startle her into falling off.
The closer he got, the more fantasy-looking she became. Several times he caught himself looking around to see if she was really sitting out here in the moonlight. Long, curly blonde ringlets flashed in the moonbeams.
Then she’d turned her head, and the tears on her cheeks w
ouldn’t stop rolling, like diamonds twinkling in the half-light, but they weren’t shining happily. It was the shadow on her cheek that made him gasp. And the way she held her arm.
She looked… done. Broken. Beaten. At the end of her rope.
He parked the bike a good ten feet away on the opposite side and walked over to her, undecided how to approach. She looked ready to bolt, but there was only one direction she was going – and that was down.
He didn’t think she’d seen him. At least she never turned to face him.
She appeared to be caught in her own misery. Based on the facial bruises and injured arm, she might have a good reason to be miserable.
He looked around for a vehicle, wondering if she’d been in an accident. Was she in shock? Unaware of how close to the edge she was sitting? Could that be what was going on?
Instinctively, he knew it wasn’t that. She appeared too miserable for that. She was here on purpose. Then he caught sight of her shoes. Shoes she’d taken off and placed neatly off to the side.
Suicides always took off their shoes. He knew that. He’d seen that over and over again. He worked as an orderly in the hospital and had done many shifts in the morgue.
He’d seen his share of jumpers and floaters. Neither were pretty.
Both were permanent.
Shit.
He called out to her.
He watched as she shifted sideways, her gaze turning in his direction and some kind of shock slamming into her awareness. Fear shone from her gaze. No. She was terrified. She held up her hand as if to ward him off.
He lunged closer.
Startled, she shifted backwards and with a surprised shriek… she fell, toppling off the bridge.
Shit. He didn’t stop to think. He jumped after her.
He was a strong swimmer and had done more than his fair share of search and rescue work. He had no problem jumping off a bridge. For a non-swimmer, death was a certainty in this river at this time of year. For a poor swimmer, it was a likelihood. For him, nah, it wasn’t going to happen.
He hit the water cannonball style and let his body sink. His gaze open, he searched the murky darkness around him. He’d kept an eye on her as he’d come down and knew approximately where she’d be. Except the water was moving and she was sinking – and he was a moment behind her.
He spun around once, twice, then caught sight of her ahead of him. He kicked hard and caught her shirt in his hand. He tugged upward hard and sent her soaring to the surface. She lay lax in the water, not fighting for her life nor breathing.
Well, too damn bad. He wasn’t going to let her die. Not on his watch.
Not in this lifetime. He’d done a lot of shitty things in his life, but standing by and letting her go wasn’t going to be another of them.
He shoved her above him again until they both broke through the surface. He gulped down fresh air and immediately turned to the woman lying face up. He dragged her to the shoreline and started mouth to mouth. After several puffs of breath, she choked and coughed. He rolled her over and held her while she emptied the water from her lungs. Exhausted, she collapsed back down, her breath shaky but her chest rising and falling in a steady pattern.
“We need to get you to the hospital,” he said, standing up and reaching down to help her up.
“No,” she said, shaking her head violently, her voice low, panicked. “No hospital.”
He stopped for a long moment and stared at her. “Okay, but you can’t be alone for the next couple of days. It’s a tough time for your body.”
She stared at him, her body starting to shake violently.
She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have saved me,” she whispered. “Now the pain will be worse.”
“No.” he said in a dark tone. “I don’t know who you are or why you jumped, but life is precious and there is always another option than jumping off a bridge.”
“My name is Willow, and I fell,” she whispered. “You startled me.”
“But you were thinking about it though, weren’t you, Willow?” Her silence was enough of an answer.
He bent and picked her up like she was nothing. In truth, she didn’t look more than 120 lbs. and was likely less than that. He figured she’d have to be about 5’8” – tall but lean. Her name suited her. She wasn’t muscled. She looked like a waif more than a woman, and now soaking wet and in shock, she looked even worse.
“My name is Cash,” he said suddenly. “Nice to meet you. Or it would be under different circumstances.” And he started up the hill.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked when she could. Only her teeth started to chatter at the end and the words came out in gasps.
“Somewhere warm,” he answered, shifting her weight in his arms. He easily climbed their way back up the side of the cliff. Quickly, he was on top of the old road not a hundred yards from his bike, his chest heaving.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Please let me go.”
“Why? So you can go over again? I don’t think so.”
“You don’t understand,” she cried, her voice faint.
“No, I don’t. And as much as I’d like to hear an explanation, that isn’t the top priority. We need to get you dry.”
“And you?”
“Me too. But I’m tough. Nothing knocks me down.” He suddenly stood her on her feet. “Now put on your shoes.”
She gasped and stared down at the shoes neatly sitting off to one side. Shoes she’d never planned to wear again.
Biker Blues: Cash is available now!
To find out more visit Dale Mayer’s website.
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading Biker Blues: Morgan! If you enjoyed the book, please take a moment and leave a short review.
Dear reader,
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Cheers,
Dale Mayer
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About the Author
Dale Mayer is a USA Today bestselling author best known for her Psychic Visions and Family Blood Ties series. Her contemporary romances are raw and full of passion and emotion (Second Chances, SKIN), her thrillers will keep you guessing (By Death series), and her romantic comedies will keep you giggling (It’s a Dog’s Life and Charmin Marvin Romantic Comedy series).
She honors the stories that come to her – and some of them are crazy and break all the rules and cross multiple genres!
To go with her fiction, she also writes nonfiction in many different fields with books available on resume writing, companion gardening and the US mortgage system. She has recently published her Career Essentials Series. All her books are available in print and ebook format.
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MORGAN, BIKER BLUES VOL. 1
Dale Mayer
Valley Publishing
Copyright © 2016
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 97
8-1-928122-91-3
EPUB Edition
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