by Jamie Begley
As Ginger went in search of Max’s beer, he smiled arrogantly, satisfied at her eagerness. Then Max gave Casey a shameless wink before turning to his waiting friends. She went to her bedroom gratefully, locking the door behind her. The music would make studying difficult.
Since she was so tired, Casey decided to get ready for bed then she would wake up and study during the middle of the night. By then, the party would have quieted down. Renee wouldn’t want the cops called to break her party up, so the music was usually lowered after midnight.
Casey set her alarm for three, which would give her a few hours of study before she left for school. She would be tired, but she would crash when she came home after school.
* * *
She groaned when her alarm went off a few hours later. She was disoriented as she rubbed her eyes to clear the sleep away before climbing out of bed and putting on a robe to go to the bathroom across the hall.
After using the bathroom, she washed her face, taking a towel to dry it off. She was going back into her bedroom when her empty stomach forced her to pause. Then she remembered she had left her school books in the other room. Listening, she found the rest of the house was silent, and the lights in the living room were off.
Padding barefoot, she went down the short hallway, her hand going to the light switch. A movement from the couch had her hand freezing before she turned them on. The light from the street outside shined in the window, silhouetting the two bodies twisting together on the couch. Two other dark figures were in the room, watching. Casey recognized Ginger’s face, her T-Shirt pulled up with her large breasts exposed while Max was thrusting into her.
“Fuck, I’m coming.” Ginger’s shrill voice had Casey’s hand dropping as she backed silently away down the hallway.
As quietly as possible, she opened her bedroom door and slid inside her dark room. A sigh of relief was cut off as a hand was clamped over her mouth. Horrified, she fought as she was dragged toward her bed. A sharp punch to her face nearly knocked her unconscious as she was thrown onto her unmade bed. A terror stricken scream escaped her before the hand was again over her mouth, this time almost cutting off her breathing as a naked, male body fell on top of her, ripping her house coat open and tearing her nightgown.
A bright light filled the room suddenly, and the body on top of hers was lifted roughly off her. Casey blinked in the harsh light to see Jackal punching a naked Brock while Fade tried to break the fight up.
Her mother’s bedroom door was flung open, and she came running inside.
“What in the hell is going on?” she screamed, staring at Casey accusingly.
Brock managed to break away from Jackal with Fade’s help.
“I went to take a piss. The lights were out, and I went into the wrong bedroom. I thought I was with you. Jackal didn’t give me time to explain.”
“Guess Renee likes it pretty rough, huh? Jackal said sarcastically, as everyone took in Casey’s reddening face and torn nightgown.
“Go on back to my bedroom while I handle her, and make sure you find the right door this time,” Renee snapped as Brock stepped around her, going out into the hall.
Casey’s eyes widened when she heard a loud thump from the hallway. Then Casey was forced to hear Brock retell his lies to Max.
She shakily got to her feet, running out of the bedroom, unable to listen anymore. She escaped through the house, jerking the front door open. She ran out onto the front yard, stopping for a brief second at the sight of several bikers sitting on their motorcycles, starring at her like she was crazy. She began running again in a different direction, not knowing where she was going, only that she couldn’t go back inside that house.
A high scream came from her when a large body tackled her, taking her to the grass. Sobs tore from her throat as she clawed the grass, trying to escape the body pinning her down.
“Shut up! You’re going to wake the whole fucking neighborhood if you don’t quiet down. I’m not going to hurt you!” Casey found herself flipped over, staring up at Max’s harsh face. “I’m going to let you go. Don’t run; you tore your feet to shreds.” He stood, lifting her up into his arms.
Crying, Casey put her hands on his chest, trying to get away from him.
“Stop. I’ll drop you. I’m still trying to catch my breath.” The large biker didn’t seem to be out of breath as he carried her back toward her house.
“I don’t want to go back in there,” Casey cried out when Max would have gone up the first step. His foot came back down as he turned toward the bikes.
“You have anywhere else you can go?” His concerned eyes stared down at her.
“No.” Casey cried harder.
Ginger came out the front door with her purse in her hand. “She can go to my place.”
“That cool with you?” Max asked.
“Yes.” Anywhere was better than going back inside and seeing her destroyed bedroom and having to face her mother.
“You go ahead and take her. I’ll get Jackal to give me a ride after I take care of a few things.”
Ginger reached into her purse, handing Max her apartment keys.
“I need my books,” Casey managed to say between hiccups.
“I’ll get them for you, honey. You go with Max, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Casey nodded as Max started his bike, riding past the other bikers standing around. The ride to Ginger’s apartment was a long way, and Casey had her emotions shuttered down by the time Max parked in front of the apartment building. He got off the bike, reaching for her, but Casey flinched away.
“I can walk.”
“Not on those feet you’re not.” Bending down, he picked her up.
Casey knew it was fruitless trying to fight and lay stiffly against his chest while Max carried her to the first floor apartment, juggling her as he took the key out of his pocket and opened the door. Inside, he gently placed her on a bright blue chair before lifting her feet to the unsteady coffee table.
“I’ll be right back.” Max left her sitting alone in the living room.
Casey stared at the tacky room filled with bright colors and knick knacks that sat around the room. It smelled heavily of old cigarette smoke, and there were a couple of empty beer bottles sitting on the table next to her feet.
Max came back, carrying a chair from the kitchen and a few other supplies he dropped on the coffee table.
“Hold this on your face.” Max gently placed a bag of frozen peas on her cheek. “It will help with the swelling.”
Placing the chair in front of her he sat down and then lifted her feet to his lap. She tried to jerk them back, but his large hands around her ankles held them motionless.
“Be still while I clean them for you.”
“I can do it,” Casey protested.
“You have a problem with me helping out?” His green eyes stared into hers, challenging her.
“I guess not,” Casey acquiesced, leaning back against the chair and tugging her robe around her tighter, while clumsily keeping the frozen peas pressed against her face.
“Don’t worry, I’m not into kids,” he said, gently rubbing a damp cloth against the bottom of her feet.
Casey straightened in her chair. “I’m not a kid. I turn eighteen next month.” When his eyes flashed upward, she realized how her words could be misconstrued. “I meant, I’m not a young child.”
She felt him studying her brownish-blond hair and flushed cheeks before his eyes glided downward over her small breasts outlined under the thin robe. Her legs were slim and smooth, resting on his muscular thighs.
“No, you’re not.”
Casey didn’t miss the husky tone that had entered his voice as he went back to cleaning her feet. He took another towel to dry them then shook a can of antiseptic and sprayed the cuts. When she hissed at the stinging sensation, her hands clenching on the arms of the chair, his hands rubbed the back of her heels, soothing the pain.
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
The considerate behavior he was showing toward her surprised her coming from him. He was easily the largest and roughest looking of the Predators. Ginger was constantly telling Renee about the wild streak that kept Max elusive from the women who had his children and the ones who sought to tame the roving biker.
He wrapped gauze around each of her feet before placing them back on the table.
“Has that happened before?”
“I’m not in the habit of running on gravel barefoot,” Casey answered sharply, feeling as if he thought she had overreacted by running barefoot from the house.
“I was asking if any of your mom’s boyfriends tried to rape you before.”
“No, my brother Cole only graduated last year.” Casey kept her face expressionless. “I’m usually smarter than to give them an opportunity to sneak up on me. I went to the bathroom, and he must have hidden in my bedroom then.”
“Or when you were watching me fuck Ginger.” Max’s lips twitched when he saw her mortified gaze.
“I wasn’t watching. I needed my books to study. I left when I saw—” She broke off, too embarrassed to continue.
“I thought you were almost eighteen,” he mocked. “Living with Renee, I’m sure that wasn’t the worst thing you’ve ever seen.”
A pained expression unknowingly crossed her face. “You’re right about that.”
“Sorry, I was being a jackass.”
Casey gave him a wry smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to dealing with those, too.” She shivered at remembering Brock’s face as he pushed her into the bed. Surprisingly, she felt comfortable alone with Max in Ginger’s apartment.
“Is your boyfriend one?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend. You want to know the messed up part about Brock? He was almost my first kiss. Stupid, huh?”
“I’m not a chick, so I guess it sounds ridiculous for that to upset you when he almost raped you.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Unless?”
Hastily, she shook her head. “No, I’ve never had…” She cleared her throat. “It’s just that’s what some men do, steal kisses. Isn’t it? Do you remember the first girl you kissed? What if it was someone like Renee?”
Max’s face filled with horror.
“Yeah, see what I mean? She tries to kiss you all the time, but you avoid her. What if the next time I’m not so lucky? What if someone worse than Brock manages to kiss me?” Casey forced her eyes to his.
His expression turned ruthless. “What are you getting at?”
Casey stood, looking up into his ruggedly handsome face. “Would you kiss me?”
He took a hasty step back. “Fuck, no. You’re jailbait. I have enough trouble keeping my ass out of jail.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “Who do you think would care enough to press charges? Renee?”
“This isn’t you talking. You’re fucked up right now because of what almost happened.”
“Yes and I feel myself becoming afraid of men. I don’t want to be scared of them for the rest of my life just because of Brock.” Casey brushed her angry tears of humiliation away. “For once in my life, I want to control one important thing in my life.”
“Quit crying. I’m not—”
Casey pressed herself against Max, winding her arms around his waist. “Please, Max. Just one kiss and I will leave you alone. We’ll pretend it never happened,” she pled.
Max stared down at her.
Casey stood on her toes. “Please, Max ... please.”
He groaned, lowering his head until his lips barely touched hers.
“Part your lips. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”
Casey licked her bottom lip, parting her mouth. She didn’t have time to withdraw the tip of her tongue before Max’s mouth was on hers.
She grabbed fistfuls of his T-Shirt as his tongue slid alongside hers. An unknown rush of heat was felt in her stomach when his hands circled her waist, lifting her higher as his tongue gently explored her mouth. Her first kiss was everything she had dreamed of. It was exciting, sensual, and sexy, softly guiding her into the delicate art of discovering the first taste of pleasure that Brock would have stolen forever from her.
Casey couldn’t believe she had worked up the courage to beg Max to kiss her, much less the unexpected pleasure she received from a man who smelled of beer and the perfume of another woman.
“What the hell!”
Casey found herself dumped unceremoniously back on her feet. Wincing at the pain, she managed to keep her balance. Ginger stared at them angrily while Casey stared back, guiltily aware it was her purse, books, and clothes Ginger was holding in her arms.
“Ginger, it was nothing. Poor kid’s never had a kiss … just doing her a favor. She don’t exactly have a line waiting.”
Casey hid her flinch at Max’s words.
“Her shy, little, school girl routine seemed to be working just fine when I came in the door. She’s had both you and Brock trying to get in her panties tonight.”
“There’s a big fucking difference between me and Brock.”
Ginger’s lips tightened. “Jackal’s waiting for you. Ice has something he needs you two to check on.”
Max took advantage of the opportunity to escape, leaving without a backward glance. The second the door snapped closed, Ginger threw the clothes and books at Casey.
“You little bitch! He’s mine. I’m getting your shit while you’re trying to steal my man? Renee said you were a slut, and I took up for you!”
Humiliated, Casey gathered her clothes, tugging on her jeans. With the rest of her things, she went toward the door. She had no idea where she was going or how she was going to get to school, but she couldn’t face Ginger’s accusing look any longer.
“Casey, I’m warning you. Stay away from him.”
“I will,” Casey said faintly.
Mercifully, no one was outside so early, and Casey finished dressing, wincing with pain as she forced her feet into her tennis shoes. Throwing her night clothes into the dumpster, she began walking toward the direction she remembered Max had brought her. She was about to drop when she saw a bus.
She was late for school, but the teacher arranged for her to take the part she missed during her lunch hour. It was a difficult day to get through, and that night wasn’t much better, listening to Renee’s recriminations despite Casey repeatedly telling her that Brock had attempted to rape her.
As soon as she had graduated, she had moved out into the same cheap apartment she lived in now.
Fortunately, Casey didn’t see Max again for several years, but by chance, she ran into Ginger at Renee’s home, and she had her son with her in the carrier. Max’s son lay wiggling with his fist crammed into his mouth. Casey made the effort to carry on a conversation but was rebuffed.
Once she was no longer living with Renee, she didn’t see Max until the day of Mugg’s and her mother’s wedding at the local courthouse. The marriage had intertwined her life once again with the Predators.
After the ceremony, they celebrated at a local restaurant. Sitting at the end of the table and feeling self- conscious, Casey avoided eye contact with Max as he sat with his now four children. He acted friendly, his nonchalant attitude displaying he had forgotten their kiss. However, despite herself, she had compared every man to him thereafter.
Now, as then, Max managed to make her feel self-conscious and nervous, addressing her with the same affable “sweet thing” which he addressed every woman who came into contact with him, though she successfully kept him at arm’s length over the next few years, despite his gestures of friendship.
The Predators’ reputation worsened over the time she grew up and began working in Queen City. The bikers became feared by many of the residents, each shrewdly aware as Casey was that the law wasn’t able to touch them. Little did they know, their day of reckoning was going to be achieved by her amateur skills, using the one thing Max was incapable of resisting—a willing woman.
C
hapter 3
Max walked across the parking lot to his bike, where the club members were standing together, waiting for him.
“Find out what you wanted to know?” Ice asked, his arm around Grace’s shoulders.
“Fuck, no.” Max sat down on his bike, frustrated at Casey’s refusal to confide in him. She was the complete opposite of her mother who would tell you what color panties she had on if you asked. With Renee, what you saw was what you got. She was feisty and spunky, dressing more like a woman half her age than a woman in her fifties. She had been married three times before she had married his father. Max liked Renee and wished Casey had taken a few traits from her mother. She hadn’t, though. She was as closed off and snooty as Renee was friendly and outgoing.
“What are you going to do?” Jackal asked.
“Ask Dad and see if he knows what’s going on.”
“Why does it matter? It’s not like she’s your sister.” Ice climbed on his bike with Grace getting on behind him.
“Because Casey is an uptight bitch who watches every dime she spends. If she needs cash, I’m thinking it’s not for her.”
“Renee?” Ice spoke his own thought out loud.
“Dunno.”
“Could be anything,” Jackal broke into the conversation. “She could owe money or have a habit she’s hiding. She could even be giving it to her boyfriend.”
Max shook his head. “She doesn’t spend any money on herself. She has five work outfits that she wears different days of the week. She never goes out. Her ma is always asking her to go shopping and shit with her, and she never goes. I would know if she was doing any drugs since we control that shit in town.” Max spoke faster at Ice’s warning look about watching his words around Grace. “Her boyfriend is a stockbroker from out east and has more cash than he can spend.”
“How’d you know she has only five work outfits?” Grace’s curious eyes met his.
“There isn’t much I don’t notice about women,” Max bragged.
“I didn’t see you paying much attention to what CeCe was wearing. You asked her if one dress she was wearing was new twice.”