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Love, Loyalty & Mayhem: A Motorcycle Club Romance Anthology

Page 2

by Ryan Michele


  My phone starts vibrating on my bedside table and I pick it up, answering. “What’s up?”

  “Okay, I need to ask you a question…” Sloan purrs.

  I hesitate. “Sure?”

  “What happened between you and Matty?”

  I still, my eyebrows furrowing. Matty and I were nothing, but I also know that Sloan has been pining after him since around when Royce left. Matty is also attending UCLA with us, so it’s no surprise that she’s still asking about him. “Nothing that you’re thinking of. Why?” Fresh out of high school, about to move to LA, and she’s still asking about Matty. “If you want him, he’s yours. Honestly, we didn’t go far…”

  Sloan sighs. “Okay. I guess. It’s just we all know he has always had a crush on you.”

  I roll my eyes, leaning my phone on my shoulder.

  She continues. “Wanna go get loaded fries?”

  “Um, I sort of can’t.” I catch my movement in the mirror, realization once again crashing into me like a cold bucket of water.

  “Why?”

  I hear the deep growl of a loud engine—is that a fucking motorbike? “Will talk later.” The rumble is low, reverberating around my room like a pounding symphony.

  “Jade!” my mom yells out from the kitchen. “Downstairs.”

  I quickly shove on my Ugg boots and give myself one more once over before pushing my phone into my back pocket and making my way downstairs. I can see a gathering around the front door as I come down, but I don’t look up until the last minute.

  “Sorry I’m—” I pause.

  There, standing in front of me, is Royce Kane.

  When my eyes meet his, my heart slows in my chest. The hate is still there, the anger and pain, but now there’s something else happening. Something I’m not ready to acknowledge yet. His ice blue eyes. Colder than the Atlantic Ocean, but hotter than the pits of Hell. His dark unruly hair looks like his hands have brushed through it one too many times, and his big, lean body towers over everyone in the room—including the room itself. He has tattoos all over what skin I can see. Royce Kane doesn’t just look like a bad boy. Royce Kane looks like a bad man… he’s not the spoiled rich boy, playing every girl at school. He’s—different. His sharp jaw is clean shaven, illustrating every cut line of his perfectly constructed face. His straight nose and soft plump lips. Shit. Double fucking shit. He’s even fucking hotter than he was when he was young.

  He’s in loose faded jeans, military boots, and a black shirt. But there’s something over top of his shirt that catches my eye. Well, two things actually…

  The embroidered patch that’s sewn into his left pec. Wolf Pack MC Motorcycle Club.

  And second, I’m pretty sure, Royce Kane hates me.

  My eyes glass over, before going back to his. This time his scowl is matched with a dark grin that spreads over his swollen lips. “Well, didn’t you grow up…”

  2

  Royce

  I’m not gonna lie, seeing her squirm under my presence is somewhat fascinating. She was my fucking world the day she walked her sad, little soul into our house. I mean, I wanted a brother, but Jade wasn’t half as bad as what I thought having a little sister would be like. She hated Barbie dolls and preferred Transformer trucks. Not much else I could complain about.

  “Monkey,” I smirk, throwing out her nickname. I was almost certain I loved the little shit when she was growing up. Now I can’t. I won’t.

  She flinches. I didn’t miss the scan she did as soon as her pretty little eyes landed on me. Then I watched as the blood drained from her face when she read my patch on my left pec.

  “Great!” Mom says, clapping her hands. “Dinner is ready. Royce, please tell me you haven’t joined a motorcycle gang…”

  I follow behind her as my father hushes her already smart mouth and Jade steps slightly behind me.

  When our parents are out of earshot, I grin, turning my head slightly. “What’s the matter, Monkey, didn’t miss me?”

  Her eyes come to mine, and I see the defiance that flashes over them briefly before it’s gone. “Never.”

  I chuckle, turning to face her. Just before we turn into the kitchen, I slam my hands against the wall, caging her in. I run the tip of my nose over her cheek and inhale her sweet, innocent flesh. She’s like a breath of fresh air after being face down in club girl pussy. Only her air is fucking laced with poison. “You should be scared, Monkey. You’re not safe from me anymore.” My eyes drop down her little body, taking in the soft curves that stretch out over her otherwise delicate stature.

  “You two!” Dad calls from the dining room. “What’s taking so long?”

  Tense bastard.

  I let her go, knowing full well no one can see us. Fucking hate my rich ass parents and their rich ass house.

  “You might be right, Royce.” She squares her shoulders and looks me deep in the eye. “But I’m not the same girl you left behind. I have teeth now.” Then she shoves past me.

  Before I can grab her and slam her little ass back up against the wall, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I don’t bother to tell the old man that I’ll be in in a second, because he knows I’ll be in in a second.

  “What?”

  “Ah,” Phat mutters. “Did I catch you at a bad time?” There’s shuffling in the background. “Sorry, Sicko, it’s just Lion told me that I can call you about—” Phat, our new prospect, stammers on the other side of the phone.

  I attempt to count to fucking ten, because my therapist says it’ll help. My therapist also calls me daddy and lets me fuck her over her counter every Friday night before her after-work drinks.

  “What is it?” I snap. “You know I’m away, so this better be a fucking emergency.”

  “Oh, it is. Sorry.”

  “Stop saying fucking sorry.”

  “Oh, right, ah, so, Arrow has been shot and we’re wondering what we should do.”

  My jaw tenses. “Is it a fatal wound?”

  There’s more shuffling and then Lion’s old ass voice comes through. Lion is our club president. How he got that name is a long fucking sorry, Mine is Sicko, and that’s also… a long fucking story.

  “Can always count on my VP to put the fear of God into the prospects,” Lion chuckles down the phone.

  “Maybe we need to reevaluate who we are letting drag their feet through our clubhouse then.”

  “I think Phat is a good one. You’ve just got to be nice.”

  “I’m never nice. You know this.”

  He chuckles again, and I can just imagine the cigar hanging from between his lips.

  “Is it fatal?” I ask again, sighing.

  “It’s not. How are the parents?”

  “Same, same. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” I hang up my phone and make my way back into the kitchen, pulling out a chair opposite Jade.

  Her eyes cut to mine, but she picks up her glass of water and empties it in one go.

  “Son, how have you been?” my father asks beside me, cutting into his steak. We lose ourselves in conversation about normal ass shit that I used to be into. I feel bad, I fucking do. I felt bad the day I walked away from them both with the intention of never returning. That boy with an attitude problem was rather fucking dramatic. But until recently, I’ve found myself having to drag my ass back to this house for the very reason I fucking left.

  Her.

  “Royce,” my mom mutters, patting her mouth after her meal and placing it daintily onto the table. “Please tell me you haven’t joined a motorcycle club.”

  Dad silences beside me.

  My eyes find Jade, who isn’t watching me smugly, she’s more bored. She doesn’t want to be here anymore than I do.

  “I have. Been there for six years now, Ma.”

  “Where is there, and why, Royce?”

  I toss my napkin onto my plate. “LA. Not too far from you.” My eyes cut to Jade’s. “But far enough.”

  “Aren’t you going to say something, Jade?” My mother grasps at Jade. “You
two were always so close…”

  Jade chokes on her water. It was no secret how close Jade and I were. Everyone called Jade my pet. She was always hanging off my arm, wanting to do everything with me and the boys, and she was the only one who was allowed. Pissed a lot of bitches off, the fact that they couldn’t ride with us, but my little foster sister could, but they dealt with it. Jade would make my birthday cakes every year too, her and Mom in the kitchen getting messy while Dad was always late home from work.

  “I have nothing to say,” Jade mutters. “Actually, can I be excused?” Mom flicks her wrist, agreeing and Jade shuffles out of the dining room, my eyes never straying from her. When she jogs up the stairs, I watch as her ass bounces with each step.

  I bite my lip and grin.

  “Travis?” My mom points at my old man.

  He looks at me and I look at him and all of that awkward bullshit that happens anytime someone is in trouble.

  “Mom? I’m twenty-fucking-three years old. I don’t need you stressing. I survived on my own, with my brothers, for six years.”

  “That’s beyond the point, Royce! I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere in Mission District! You have—” Her tears start coming and it’s the first time I look at her. Really fucking look at her. She’s aged drastically since I left. Wearing her hair short, wrapped around her jaw. Wrinkles line the curves around her eyes, but we all know she gets injections on her forehead.

  “Sorry, Ma…wasn’t the plan.”

  “So what happened?” Mom asks, finally bringing her eyes to me.

  “I can’t talk about that with you.”

  She sighs, standing and clearing the table. “Well, I hope you at least visit more often.”

  I stand with her, my eyes going to my old man who is watching me carefully. “Been a very empty house without you, boy…” Dad, on the other hand, looks good for his age. But then, he always fucking did.

  I punch his arm. “How much are you benching?”

  He shakes his head and laughs. “More than you.” I go into the kitchen and help Mom with the dishes.

  “Where’s Louise?” I ask, wondering where the maid is. She always walked her old ass around our house doing all the shit my mom was supposed to be doing instead of shopping with her friends.

  Mom sighs, putting dish after dish into the washer. “I let her go not long after you left. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes I did with you with Jade too.”

  Her eyes go out to the front of the house where the garage is built to the side. “She kept your car, you know?” Mom whispers. “She screamed for you every night for the first year, waking up in a sweat. Then it just stopped. Like she gave up.”

  My lips pinch together. Wish I could say I gave a fuck, but I didn’t. I felt for the young Monkey, not the one that’s sitting her pert little ass upstairs now.

  “Yeah, well, shit changed…”

  Mom brings her hands up to my cheeks. “Don’t be a stranger. That’s an order.”

  “Sure thing, Ma.”

  After helping Mom clean up, I say goodbye to them both and then head out to my bike. Swinging my leg over my Dyna Glide, I kick start her to life and listen as she rumbles underneath me. Putting a cigarette into my mouth, Jade’s bedroom light catches the corner of my eye. The only light that’s on, on that level. I blow out a cloud of smoke.

  One day soon, your ass will be sitting in my clubhouse, and it won’t be by choice.

  3

  Jade

  “Hurry up, Monkey. Get in the car or you’re going to be late,” Royce yells from inside his flashy, loud car.

  I quickly butter my toast and slap some jelly on top, biting down and rushing out. I slam the front door closed and take the steps down fast.

  “Aye, aye, aye! You know the rules!” He points to my toast.

  “I’m hungry!” I whine.

  Royce rolls his eyes. “Just this once.” It’s just this once every morning, but that’s just Royce. He pulls out of the driveway, turning the music up. I dance in my seat when we start driving down the street I recognize as Bethany’s. Bethany, as in Royce’s bitchy girlfriend who secretly hates me.

  I go to take my seat belt off to get in the back, but Royce stops me, hitting the music down and parking up the curb of her driveway. “Hell naw, Monkey sits shotgun.”

  And she’s about to hate me even more.

  I smile at him and we wait for Bethany to come out. When she finally walks her long, skinny legs down, her eyes cut to me and turn to slits. Great.

  “I’ll drop you off and pick you up from school at the same time.”

  “Where are you going?” I ask, batting my lashes at him.

  “Nowhere for you to worry about.”

  Bethany slides into the backseat. “Morning! Morning, Jade!” She’s so fucking fake.

  I smile at her as Royce drives me to school. He pulls up, opens my door and kisses me on top of my head. “Have a good day, Monkey. See you later.”

  I didn’t see him later. I watched as his car disappeared down the road and went about my day. It wasn’t until later that night when I finally got home when my mom was crying and my dad was seething, pacing back and forth in the living room. I suspected he blamed me for Royce leaving.

  One year after that day, it was proven I was right.

  “Are you happy we’re done?” Sloan mutters, pushing her sunglasses over her eyes as she floats on top of the water, courtesy of our inflatable unicorn. We had plans to go out tonight, but I squashed them after Royce’s appearance. He has thrown me off balance.

  “Of school? It’s been almost three months.” I kick my legs into the water to get farther away from the edge. “But yes.”

  She removes her glasses, her eyes coming up to the big house behind me. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  I shrug. “You’re not alone. Shall we go get food? I just can’t wait to get the fuck to college.”

  “I seriously just can’t wait to get the fuck out of San Francisco.”

  I laugh, squirting her with water. “It’s not that bad…”

  But she’s right. I can’t wait either.

  4

  Jade

  “Come on, Jade!” my mom yells from downstairs. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get on the road right now. It’s a long drive.”

  Why. Why did my mom want to drive to UCLA instead of put me on a plane? Why must she be so difficult.

  “Coming!” I holler, throwing my backpack over my shoulder. I take one last look around my bedroom. The dark purple walls faded somewhat, and the bed unmade. I won’t miss it at all.

  I open my car door and glare at her. “You do know I’m totally capable of driving myself? It’s why you bought me the car…”

  She waves me off, putting her seatbelt on in the passenger seat. “Nonsense. I get to fly home. It works perfectly.”

  The drive was long. So freaking long we ended up stopping for a night to break the trip in half. There was a pile-up on the highway which only delayed our time even more, but it’s Sunday and I am here.

  I slam the door closed and smile at Mom.

  “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” she whispers, her eyes never falling from mine. I love my mom. She’s everything everyone would ever ask for in one, but she isn’t perfect. No parent is, only mine failed me a little harder.

  “Thanks, Mom. I wa—”

  I hear a loud rumble of bikes behind me, but I don’t turn. There’s no point. It won’t be him and bikers obviously go to college too.

  The bikes pull up right beside my car and my mom’s face pales before she grins.

  “Royce?”

  My mouth snaps closed, still refusing to turn and face the music.

  “I wasn’t expecting you—all of you…”

  “Hey, Ma, thought I’d come see my little sister off on her first day. You know, catching up on those years…”

  I finally turn to face him, but I’m momentarily thrown by how many bikers there are behind him, as we
ll as an older man on the bike beside him. They’re all wearing the same leather cuts.

  “Thanks, Royce, but it really wasn’t needed…”

  Royce grins, putting a smoke into his mouth, his head tilting to the side as he watches people pile into the school. “Naw, Monkey, it really was…”

  I sigh, because I truthfully can’t be fucked arguing with him right now. “Well, thanks…” My eyes flick to all the guys. “You can leave now.”

  He removes his helmet, dropping his cigarette to the ground and putting it out. “I’m walking you up.”

  “Royce,” Mom says. “A word?”

  “Not right now, Ma. I told you that I’ll come see you next weekend. I’m just here to make sure Jade gets settled in.”

  I lick my lips, rolling my eyes. “Fine.” I throw my backpack into his chest. “You can carry this.”

  After we grab my dorm details from the snobby girl in the main foyer, we make our way up the stairs and until we find my room. Royce’s friends obviously all wanted to stay downstairs. Bar one. His name is Gypsy and he has to be around the same age as me, or in between me and Royce. After his obvious perving of every girl, it was made clear exactly why he was here.

  “Sicko, your sister is cute.”

  I turn to face them both, my eyes cutting to Gypsy. Just when I’m about to cuss him out and tell him to go fuck himself, I look at him for the first time today. Young, light brown floppy hair, and a cheeky smile. He’s the boy next door in a leather motorcycle vest. I can imagine he would get more attention than he would give.

 

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