by Avelyn Paige
Lies and Illusions
Copyright © 2018 Doing Business as Avelyn Paige
Photographer – Shauna Kruse
Cover Models: Josh McCann and Chelsea Kristine
Cover Designer – Rebecca Pau
Editor – Nikki Reeves
Format by Brenda Wright, Formatting Done Wright
This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means without the prior written permission of the author.
All rights reserved.
Dedication
Dad,
I miss you every single day.
Happy Birthday in Heaven.
I love you.
MPD#792
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Song List
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Four Years Ago
“There’s no fucking way that I’m letting you leave,” my brother, Mikey, orders from the doorway of my room. Not this crap again.
“Well, I hate to break it to you, big brother, but I’m an adult. I can come and go as I please without your permission.”
Mikey shoves off from the doorframe, and stomps his large feet toward me in a huff. His anger flows off of him in heated waves that might be able to melt the polar ice caps had they been in this room. Most wouldn’t challenge him when he’s like this, but I’m not going to back down. He can yell and roar, but that will not change my mind.
“You are my little sister, and I will be damned if I let you cut and run out of state without so much as an explanation.”
“This isn’t up for discussion. You and your one-man committee can just move on.”
Leaving the shirt I was tucking into my bag, I spin on my heels and go face to face with my seething brother. His height looms over me, and for a split second, I feel dwarfed by his giant presence. He’s like the heavy weight prizefighter breathing down the neck of his underdog opponent, even though I’m the underdog in this card, he’ll be the first to fall to the mat in defeat.
You made this deal, Presley. Don’t let his anger make you second guess the decision. This is your chance to leave, and you are taking it.
I cross my arms over my chest standing my ground. He huffs his disapproval loudly. His cold blue eyes suddenly reflect back the image of my dead father who died long ago, yet still lives in the darkest part of my mind. A piece of me that I continually fight from coming to the surface. My brother may have fallen in line with my father’s version of life, but that’s not my destiny. I will never live that life.
Mikey’s coldness brings a haunting thought hurtling to the forefront of my mind. Just how much has my brother embraced the dark side of our father in my absence?
Mikey has a wife and a family now, but just how much has he followed in my father’s dark footsteps on a dangerous path? Would I be surprised if he was taking the exact same steps? Not really. We had a piece of that bastard inside of us from the day we were born. I fought it, and Mikey accepted it with open arms.
It’s been nine years since I spent more than a few days back in this town, and today would be the last time I set foot back here for the next few years. That was not a coincidence. Every trip back home from school was like a knife to the heart. My family life wasn’t picturesque. Not by a long shot. It was dark, unhappy, and filled with death and destruction. My father’s club is a far cry from a family, and even though I was treated well, I saw what they didn’t want me to see. Even after my father’s death, the Heaven’s Rejects are still a group of men who make the devil look like a child acting out to seek attention. Wherever they are, death follows.
“You are not going. End of story,” my brother declares in his matter-of-fact tone. Too bad for him that tone has never worked on me like it did with his brothers.
“I am going,” I retort back, narrowing my eyes. His argumentative retorts remind me so much of how we argued as children. Is that what we are going to resort to in adulthood? What more can I do to show him that I don’t give a shit about his opinion?
He growls in a rage, and to further my point, I turn my back on him and continue to pack. He will not intimidate me into staying. Mikey’s large hand reaches out, grips my shoulder, and spins me back to face him.
“I gave you four years at that expensive fucking school. Then when you asked to go to graduate school, I relented and paid for five more years. You’ve gotten that degree, and it’s high time you come home.”
He’s not wrong. Without his help, and the small life insurance policy my dad had left in my name, I would have never even been able to afford the tuition for Stanford University. I was grateful for what he did for me. He equipped me to pursue my dreams, and deep down, I know he had intended for me to come back well-educated and ready to stay home. But I didn’t want to stay here, and honestly, I don’t know if I ever would.
The time I spent away from the Heaven’s Rejects MC was a peaceful leave of absence that only reassured me that distance was the best thing for me. I had spent years living as the crowned princess, under my father’s rule and then my brother’s. It was less than bearable. Every second I lived under this roof, fear ruled my life. Between the messes that my father had clearly left behind for my brother to deal with to the change in the culture Mikey had tried to instill here, I was out of my comfort zone. I had tasted freedom, and that was a feeling that I was never going to give up. No amount of guilt over my brother’s support would change my mind, when so much was at stake.
“Yes, I’m aware of who paid my tuition, but you can’t seem to accept that I’m not like you,” I hiss back at him. “You’re happy here living as the king. I never was. After dad died, I thought that would change, but it hasn’t. If I’m going to survive in this world, it has to be away from here. Away from this club. And away from your influence.”
The words that just left my mouth cut him deep, as I had intended them to do because for a split second I see a momentary flutter of sadness cross his face. He needs to understand, and this is the only way to do it. If I didn’t do this now, he would continue to fight me tooth and nail, until the bitter end where I would end up a prisoner in my own house. I had to hurt him or he’d never let go.
“Will you at least tell me where you’re going?”
“The east coast,” I shortly answer, before turning my back on him once again.
“Jesus,” he utters, while pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “That’s all you are going to give me, isn’t it?”
I sigh internally, knowing that this is going to hurt me much more than it will him. Mikey is sometimes cold and calculated like my father, and moments like this remind me how truly different the two of us really are now.
“What about Mom?” he adds in, deliv
ering a low blow.
“Mom understands. Unlike you.”
And she did, even if I had lied to her about getting an internship with the biggest psychology group in the country. It was an internship of sorts. That’s what I was clinging to as the real reason, but it was much more than an internship. It was a chance to become something. A chance to get away from here and further my career. One that I was taking with open arms despite the consequences that would come with it. Another opportunity like this would never come again, and I had to seize it. This was my chance to forge my own destiny, even if I was trading one devil for another with a laundry list of demands that I was required to meet. Sacrifices had to be made, lies had to be told, and secrecy of the highest level kept.
As much as I despised this club, Mom was my only reason for short trips home. Just thinking about leaving her makes my heart die a little bit inside. But it wasn’t up for negotiation. She was the sacrifice that I had to make to get what I wanted in my life without furthering my debt to my brother and his club. She was the price I had to pay for freedom.
It’s just a few years. You do your job, and then you’re free.
No family ties, no visits, and no locations. The devil, who now owned me, wanted me to cut off ties from pretty much the whole world. When they dangled everything that I had ever wanted professionally on a gilded string, I pawed at it like a playful kitten hoping to be adopted. I was desperate for something more in my life, and they were willing to give it to me on their terms. They wouldn’t relent on me making calls home to my mom, but I had already ensured another way to make that happen. I guess it’s the only good thing about being the daughter of an evil incarnate because I knew how to think outside of the box. My mother was the only bright spot left in my life, and I needed her, even if it was only to hear her voice.
Mikey rubs his hand over his brow in a feeble attempt of trying to come to terms with what I’m telling him. His skull is thick and filled to the brim with stubbornness. Just like me. We were cut from the same genetic cloth. Even with so many years between us, I knew him better than he knew himself. He was the protective big brother, and I was the doting little sister who idolized him when we were closer as kids. Until all that changed the moment he joined the club. The playfulness inside of him was replaced by a man I hardly knew, and that is who is standing in front of me. Mikey was now Raze, Club President. He was a man that did what he wanted, and everyone would fall in line behind him. The club came first, and everything else came in a distant second.
Except for me. I grew up, while he wasn’t watching.
“Mikey,” I start. “You know that I don’t belong here. I’m not the little girl that used to follow you around all the time. I’m a grown woman with a doctorate in psychology. This internship is the opportunity of a lifetime, and despite what you say, I’m taking it.”
He looks away briefly, before returning his gaze back to me. The sorrowful look on his face gives me the answer I know is about to leave his lips.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “But I want you to come home when you can. Mom will miss you.”
“I’ll try,” I lie. “This program is really intense, and I don’t know how much down time I’ll have.”
“I guess I can accept a try,” he disappointedly concedes.
Before I can even respond, his large arms wrap around me and bring me into the tightest hug that he’s given me in years. The familiarity of his embrace momentarily brings me back to the good days of our childhood, before it snaps me back to reality. This was a fleeting moment of weakness that would disappear the minute he left my room, when his guard would go back up.
“Mikey,” I squeak. “There’s a car waiting outside for me. I really need to finish packing. My plane leaves in a few hours, and I’m not even remotely ready to go.”
He reluctantly releases me, and walks out of the room without another word, in defeat. Even with playing the ace in his hand by using mom as an excuse, I trumped him in the end. I look around my small room at my mom’s house. It’s an odd feeling knowing that this may be the last time I’m in this room. My walls are lined with photographs from my brief stint playing softball, academic club competitions, and a news article about my acceptance to Stanford. A dusty shelf next to them houses my trophies and medals that are reminders of my high school days that are long gone. My heart hurts as I scan the room as memories come crashing back.
Shake it off. You know what will happen if you stay. Just leave the memories behind.
My brother’s muffled voice coming from down the hall instantly brings me back from my trip down haunted memory lane, as a reminder for my flight pings on my phone next to the opened and half-packed suitcase. I quickly grab the few mementos I decided to bring along and top it off with the rest of my clothes, before zipping it closed. I grab my phone and slide it into my back pocket, before moving the heavy suitcase off the bed to the doorway. It’s sad to think that so much of my life currently resides in those three bags. It’s pretty pathetic.
Mikey’s voice grows louder, as I hear him arguing with my mother about me leaving. He doesn’t realize that Mom has always wanted what was best for us. He took Dad’s road, and I’m following Mom’s new path. Dad’s death freed us all, but for her, this was a chance at another life. She didn’t have to worry about being a single mother or being homeless. She was well cared for and enjoying life for the first time in a long time, even if she was under the watchful eye of my brother from a distance.
I look around the room one more time before hoisting one of my bags over my shoulder, grabbing the other two, and leaving my old room behind. Mikey and Mom pause at the sight of me. Tears begin to well in my mother’s eyes.
“I wish you would let me drive you to the airport, Presley,” she offers. Leaving her behind on the curb in tears would break me, and I can’t take that chance.
“I know, Mom,” I reassure her. “But the internship paid for that expensive car outside, and I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with them.”
“I know, baby,” she relents.
Another ping sounds from my phone, and I know it’s time to go.
“I love you, Mom,” I softly cry as I reach out. Her small body wraps around mine, and shakes from sobs.
“I love you,” she cries against my shoulder. After a few minutes, she pulls her tear-streaked face away from mine, and rubs her hand across my face. “Be safe, baby.”
“I will.”
I look to my brother who stands next to her, and he doesn’t budge. His stubbornness is apparently unwilling to give up control long enough to say goodbye. But it’s for the best. He would only try to convince me to stay again, and I’d rather leave this place without another argument. I nod to him as I pass by. His silence remains, as I head out of the door.
Before I get two steps outside, a man in a black suit quickly grabs my bags and loads them into the back of the car. He ushers me into the open door. I slide into the warmed leather interior of the black town car. The sound of the door shutting behind me sends a shiver down my spine, and again when he climbs into the driver’s side. The car jolts as it begins to pull away, while I watch my childhood shrinking in the distance through dark tinted windows.
As the view of my mother’s house disappears, I turn around as my own tears begin to drip down my face. I sob for miles, until there’s absolutely nothing left inside of me. The wet circular stains from the tears are now my badges of courage. The tears leaving my body represent the fear of the unknowns and loneliness from being secluded from my family. There’s only one thing left inside of me now, and that’s the resolve to see this through.
This was my decision, and it’s one that I will have to live with for the rest of my life. I just hope that it was the right one.
Two Months Ago
“Old business?” My club president asks to the crowded Church room. My brothers look around at each other, watching for anyone to add additional information into our daily club meeting.
Hero, our VP, c
lears his throat, and I suddenly get the sense that I’m not going to like what I’m about to hear.
“I’d like to bring up Slider’s patch vote.”
I stifle a groan. The kid has stepped up when he’s been asked, but his cocky attitude has started to wear on me. In his mind, he’s already earned his patch. The reality is that he still has so much to learn about what it means to take the oath and join our brotherhood. He fared well in our more violent moments. That I can’t deny. He just needs to learn that not everything is going to end in a bloodbath. The delicate balance between peace and violence was fast becoming the new normal for us. He just had to accept that, instead of looking for another fight.
“Do you really think now is a good time?” Tyson retorts with a questioning look plastered on his face.
“I think we need to make our decision soon,” Hero fires back. “It’s not like he hasn’t gotten his required time in. We need the numbers. The latest run in with Rex should be proof enough of that.”
“I agree, but I’m with Tyson on this. He’s put his time in, but I have some reservations about the kid. He needs more time to mature, before we give him full status. We shouldn’t jump to add in new members just because our numbers are down. If we need help, we can call in the other chapters,” Raze offers as a suggestion to the table discussion.
Raze shifts in his chair, pulling his hands up to the gray, stumbled beard that whips around his chin. The last few years has visibly aged him, despite the resurgence of his more youthful pursuits with Darcy as his old lady. He is almost chipper on occasion with her around. I should send her flowers for that one of these days or would that be weird? A card with “Thanks for fucking my Prez” might just send the wrong impression. I scratch the gift idea and pay more attention to the conversation going on around me.