Love, Loyalty & Mayhem: A Motorcycle Club Romance Anthology

by Ryan Michele

  “Thanks,” I grumble, turning back to my door and pushing my key in.

  “We made sure that you have your own room…” Mom says, pointing to the double bed.

  “How?” I ask, surprised.

  Mom shrugs. “Your father made sure.”

  My heart sinks. “Oh.”

  “Hey,” Royce’s hand comes to my chin, tilting my face up to his. “I’ll come check on you every weekend.”

  “Royce?” I murmur, even though his grip is so tight it’s making my lips push out.

  “What?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.

  “Really not necessary. I have Sloan here too, and Matty. I don’t need you petting me here like you did at home.”

  He laughs, stepping away and winking. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  Then his eyes go to Mom. “I’ll look after her.”

  Mom nods, pulling me in for one last hug. “Okay. I better head to the airport. I planned to spend the day with you but all that traffic delaying us.”

  “It’s okay, Mom. I love you,” I whisper, squeezing her roughly.

  “Love you too.”

  When I told my parents that I’d be studying political science, I half expected them to doubt me. A lot. But they didn’t. I have always wanted to be involved in politics, while not being in the front of the show. More behind the scenes, organizing everything and making sure people are doing as they’re told. Political consultation is where I’d like to be, so today is day one of a very long road ahead.

  Mom leaves and I’m in the room alone with Royce and Gypsy.

  “Roy, I’m serious. You don’t need to be here.”

  He flops down onto my bed, leaning back onto his elbows. “Ah, but I do.”

  “Why?” I ask, opening box one of six. “Why do you care?”

  He seems to think over my words, his eyes scanning me up and down. “Because you’re in my city now, so it’s only fair. But here’s the deal…”

  I laugh. “I’m not making a deal with you, Royce.”

  “Oh, you will…” he smirks. “So here’s the deal. I’ll let you party with Sloan but not Mathew. If you don’t oblige, I’ll drag you to the clubhouse and cage you.”

  I freeze. “Clubhouse, you mean…”

  My lack of education in the biker category obviously makes him happy, because his smirk deepens as he jack-knifes up from the bed. “Think you know what that means. Another thing. You are not—” he pauses, moving his face in front of mine when I get distracted from unpacking. “—Under any circumstances to put that tight little ass on another man’s bike.”

  “Fine,” I give up, tossing my makeup bag onto my bed. “Is that all? Because I’d really like to relax and unpack.” He can’t tell me who to hang out with. He won’t know and right now, I’m too tired to argue about Matty.

  “No.” He snatches my phone from my bed and punches in his number. “That’s my number.” He drops it back onto the bed. “Use it.” Then he walks out like a fucking earthquake, leaving rubble in its wake.

  I won’t be using his number.

  It took me a couple hours to settle into my room before I got batshit bored and called Sloan.

  “Hey!” she breathes into the phone. “Are you here? Matty doesn’t arrive until next week and I’m bored!”

  “Yes!” I give her my dorm details and then wait for her to come up. I still haven’t told her about Royce. I don’t really want to. One, because she had a massive crush on him when we were kids and two, I don’t know what it is that Royce is actually doing back in my life. It’s almost too good to be true. I can’t trust him the way I used to. He’s not the same boy anymore. Now, he feels calculated. Like a snake in the grass, waiting to take his bite, only there’s no fucking antidote.

  There’s a knock on the door, pulling me out of my Royce induced thoughts and I swing it open to Sloan and another girl. She has dark hair and slanted eyes, I’m guessing some sort of Chinese background. But I could be wrong, so I won’t make that assumption out loud.

  “Yay!” Sloan pulls me in for a hug. I let her, even though she and I both know how much I hate my personal bubble being violated. “Wow, your dorm is so much nicer than mine!”

  “Yeah, I wish I had a bunk buddy though.”

  “Speaking of,” Sloan announces, gesturing to the girl beside her. “This is mine! Jade, this is Nellie, Nellie, this is Jade.”

  Nellie nudges her head at me. I take in her appearance. Bright purple hair on the ends of dark roots and a very eccentric style of dress. Striped thigh-high socks, short leather miniskirt, and a strapless top, squashing her tits to the high heavens.

  “Hi…”

  “So,” Sloan slumps onto my bed. “How did the drive with your mom go?”

  “Ah,” I answer. “Fine, but then Royce showed up and it—”

  “—Wait!” Sloan stands abruptly from my bed. “Royce is back?”

  “Who’s Royce?” Nellie asks from behind me.

  “Um,” I answer her quickly, but before I can get a word in, Sloan has her palms pressed to my cheeks, yanking my attention back to her.

  “Tell me everything.”

  I whack her hand away. “Nothing to tell. He came home last weekend for his birthday and told us that he had been with a motorcycle club for the past six years.”

  “Oh my god…” Sloan drools, her mouth wide open. “Is he hotter than he was when we were younger?”

  “What? I’m not answering that. He’s my brother.”

  “—Foster brother.”

  “Sounds like I need to meet him,” Nellie smirks, sitting on my bed. I don’t mention that I barely know her and that she most definitely should not be sitting on my bed, but I want to. “What club is he with?” Nellie further asks.

  “What? Ah, I don’t remember.” Because I don’t, and also, I don’t want to tell them any more than I already have. Not that I care if they find him hot, just that I don’t want to be talking about him right now.

  “Can we change the subject?” I mutter, piling my long hair up into a high ponytail. “Like food. Where can we get food?”

  We find a small diner off campus. It’s the typical greasy-spoon diner, with gloss red leather seats, checked floors and tired waiters. I slip into the booth and scan over the menu.

  “So what else has Royce been doing?” Sloan asks. I ignore her. I can’t do the song and dance to Royce’s tune today—or ever. When the waiter comes to our table, I smile up to her, thankful for the distraction. “I’ll have the double cheeseburger with extra bacon, please.”

  “Fine,” Sloan groans. “But we are going out this weekend. Right, Nellie?”

  Nellie nods. “Yep. There’s a spot I go to every weekend. We’ll pick Jade up.”

  I dive into my burger, ignoring their talks of what boys is what in the school. To say that I’m not interested is probably an understatement. My sex life isn’t one worth mentioning, so I zone out and dig into my fries.

  “Do you know where your classes are on Monday, Jade?” Nellie asks around her straw.

  “I think so,” I pop another fry in my mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the door open, but I don’t pay it any attention. “I mean, I have the school map and all of my class numbers, so I’m guessing they won’t be hard to find.”

  I look to Sloan, whose eyes are over Nellie’s shoulder and on the new group who just sauntered in. I lean over to see who she is looking at.

  “Sloan…” I nudge her. My friend is blatant when it comes to what she wants. The entire back section of the diner is now occupied with red and grey varsity jackets. Of course Sloan would sniff out the school’s football team like a dog in heat.

  “Yes?” She bats her eyelashes at me, and when I look back at the group, I find a couple of them already watching us. Well, probably Sloan more than me. She’s the beautiful red-haired bombshell with great tits, and I’m the basic brunette with great tits.

  Chuckling, I shake my head. “You are terrible.” I lazily scan the group, when o
ne guy catches my eye who is watching me carefully. His scruffy blond hair looks like ash has been smudged into it and his dark eyes tug me in. He has tanned skin, broad shoulders and the face structure of a GQ model.

  He’s really, really attractive. No, actually, he’s hot as fucking sin, and I’d gladly kneel at church on Sunday for devouring that.

  “—Jade!” Now it’s Sloan’s turn to demand my attention.

  “Hmm?” Sloan looks between me and the guy, and then smirks.

  “Ah, I see. Well, don’t stop your eye fuck on my account…”

  Nellie looks over her shoulder, finally figuring out what we’re staring at. I notice she visibly stills, her face falling before she turns back to face me. “I wouldn’t even try.”

  “Wasn’t going to.”

  Finishing up with our food, we all stand and make our way to the door. The whole time, (all of a few steps), I can feel eyes on us. It’s Sloan. She does this and it drives me fucking insane. I hate going anywhere with her. Like a magnet, I turn toward them in passing, but my eyes find Ash Blond again and my heart speeds up in my chest. No smile, no frown, he’s simply observing me. I don’t know if it’s intimidating or turning me on, I settle for the first because there’s no way he could be turning me on. The cold air hits across my face as we reach outside, treading down the stairs and making our way to Nellie’s beat up Honda. It’s a small little hatchback that looks like maybe fourteen years ago, it would have been worth something. I said to take my car, but Nellie insisted on hers.

  “So my mom and dad are one of those gross parents who have been together for like, way too long…” Nellie murmurs. “It’s actually so disturbing because they still make-out at breakfast.”

  “Le sigh…” Sloan murmurs, pulling open the passenger door and pushing the seat forward for me to slip into the back. “I want that one day.”

  “Well,” Nellie mutters, clipping her belt on and starting the car—after a misfire. “You won’t get that from any of the guys in there…”

  “You don’t like them much, huh?” I ask. I meant it as a joke, but as soon as it leaves my mouth, I feel the snark in my tone.

  “No,” Nellie confirms, taking us onto the highway. “I don’t.”

  Maybe I’ll ask her another time why.

  Sunday, I spend the day gathering all of my books that I’ll need for Monday, which includes but is not limited to meal prepping. I love a good takeout, or munch sessions with potato chips and chocolate, but my body can only survive on meat, vegetables, and carbs. Yes, I said carbs. Carbs are life and give me life. I’m climbing into bed at the end of the day when my phone lights up on the bedside table. I reach for it aimlessly, knowing it will be Sloan. She’s probably drunk.

  “Hello?”

  “Jade…”

  Dread fills my body. “Yes, sir?”

  “…I need you. Meet me downstairs now.”

  “Sir, I can’t. I ha—”

  “—Now.”

  “Okay,” I whisper, my voice dropping to a deathly level. I clutch the phone to my chest and lay there for a few seconds. I don’t want to do this. I thought I would be free. Free to live my life. How stupid could I be? He’s always made it very clear that I never will be free. I’ll always be indebted to him and I’ll always have to make myself available to him.

  I fling the blanket off my body and tiptoe around my room like I would at home. I’m frightened that he can hear me, because knowing he’s right downstairs awaiting in his fancy Porsche is enough to put fear into me. I quickly slip on some tight sweatpants and tank before throwing on a hoodie and zipping up.

  Breathe in, and out. You’ve done this thousands of times, Jade. Pull it together. I push my phone and dorm key into my pocket and make my way downstairs. I didn’t want to start my college year like this. I didn’t.

  It takes me one second to find his car idling near the curb. I walk straight for it and open the passenger door before sliding into the soft, warm leather. “Hello, sir.”

  “Jade,” Travis growls, turning to face me.

  I lick my lips. “I wasn’t expecting you here. Mom said that you had business to attend…”

  His hand comes to my cheek, his thumb caressing across my lip where he tugs on it gently. “I was. But now I’m here. I can’t have my big girl start her college year without a big bang.”

  I clear my throat but vomit almost surfaces, so I swallow down roughly. I’m used to this. It has happened to me every single day twelve months after Royce left me. I figured he started it because he was angry with me. He blamed me for Royce leaving. But somewhere in those six years, it shifted. It turned into something more without being more on my part. I got used to it. The first time it happened, he snuck into my room. I remember the time because my clock flashed brightly on my bedside table. 3:05am. I hate 3:05am now. He didn’t speak at first. His hand caressed my thigh from beneath my covers, his cold Rolex watch igniting goosebumps all over my flesh. He fucked me that night. Forced himself inside of me in one thrust. I yelped, but his hand slammed over my mouth to stop any more noise. I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do. I was thirteen years old, and up until that night, Travis Kane was my father, not just some hot shot CEO who had a handsome son and ran a whole bunch of charity galas.

  Dark. Colored dots dance around the room as pain ripples between my thighs. My stomach flips upside down, threatening to spill over the edges. He doesn’t speak. I feel his damp cock press in and out of me, like a knife twisting and turning through my walls. Tears pour out of my eyes, but he still doesn’t stop. Finally, after speeding up, he slows down and I feel his cock pulsing inside of me. He leans up, extracting himself from me and bends down between my thighs, kissing the blood that’s no doubt seeping out of my most private, and now exposed and violated area.

  “I’m going to teach you so many things, Jade. You’ll learn to love it eventually. Crave it. You’ll learn to submit to me whenever I come calling. Clean yourself up, Monkey. You’re my zoo creature now.”

  I flinch, but I know better than to pull away from his touch. The second time he raped me, I tried to pull away from him. I had half of a swollen face after that day.

  “Spend the night with me and I’ll drop you off here early in the morning. I have a hotel—sound proof walls,” he grins and then pulls us out of the parking lot. I look out the window and watch as young people laugh with their friends. They have no idea how lucky they are. I have so much more shame to come.

  The hotel is nice, but of course it is. Penthouse, rich red colors and glass windows that overlook Hollywood Boulevard.

  Travis hands me a glass of alcohol, loosening his tie. His blue eyes meet mine, so blue. So much like Royce. Royce. Pain slams into me at the thought of him. I shoot back the rest of the liquid, ignoring the burn that settles in the back of my throat.

  “Thank you,” I whisper once my voice is stable.

  “On your knees.”

  I obey, sinking to the floor.

  “Remove your clothes.” He tosses his tie across the room, removing his belt. He slaps the belt across the palms of his hands a few times and then his eyes come to mine. “You like Royce, don’t you?”

  “Wh—” slap. Pain vibrates over my right cheek and I hit the ground, my palms spread out.

  “I said you like Royce, don’t you? Because you’re such a dirty little slut with a tight little cunt.”

  Warm fluid fills my mouth. “Please,” I plead. “It’s my first day tomorrow.”

  “You’re right.” Travis grins, shooting back the rest of his drink and turning back around to face me. “Get up and bend over. I’m going to fuck you and hurt you until the sun comes up. Next time you think of batting those pretty eyelashes toward Royce, I’m going to rip them out.”

  I stand and comply, my fingers latching around my ankles.

  The first slap hits me hard and fast, the belt buckle biting my hip. A scream erupts out of me, my eyes rolling back.

  I wish I wasn’t born. Unworthy of love. Al
ways unworthy of love.

  The next morning, I’m standing in the hot shower as the water trickles over my aching body. Everything between my hips and my upper thighs is severely bruised, and every time I move, my vagina feels like it’s going to fall out. I’m so swollen that even when I walk, everything south rubs against my upper thighs. My face stings too, and I already know that I’m going to have to spend a good hour this morning hiding the bruise on my cheek. Well, attempt to, even though it’s not going to do shit for the swelling. I hit the faucet off and quickly wrap a towel around me as I make my way back to my dorm—in fast time. I knew that that was why Travis had made sure I was alone. So no one could ask questions on where I was ducking out to during the night, and no one to question my bruises. I shiver, and as soon as I’m back in my room, I slam my door closed and squeeze my towel.

  Day one of college. I make my way to my makeup bag and get started. This routine is natural for me. Conceal the abuse, fake a smile. If only I could conceal the turmoil that’s effervescing in my soul.

  5

  Jade

  The first week of college went fast. I found that my classes were pretty easy to get to. It’s Friday now and I’m dreading getting ready to go out to whatever it is Nellie has us planned on going to. I don’t hear from Travis all week, thankfully, but my face still looks bad and my ass and thighs ache every time I walk. The bruising has turned to a dark purple, and not just on my legs and hips, but on my face too now. We’re riding in Nellie’s car to another side of LA when Sloan hands me a flask.

  I take it and sip on it before handing it back. I’m not a big drinker, but I’m feeling bruised tonight, and I’m not just talking about the physical ones. My soul is a gaping wound, and alcohol just so happens to be the band-aid. I rub my hands up and down my black skinny jeans that are cut at the knees. If I was smarter, I would have opted for something that is easy to slide up and over my ass.

  “So, are you going to tell us where we’re going?” I say, zipping my puffer jacket farther up.

  “It’s a surprise.” Nellie’s eyes come to mine in the rear-view mirror. A few seconds pass between us before she focuses back on the road. Weird.