The Outlaw Biker's Betrayal: A Bad Boy MC Romance

by Sienna Wiliiams

  She stayed away from everyone as best as she could. She just hugged her binder to her stomach and tried to ignore the world around her. She didn’t feel comfortable there. There were always prying eyes, but what mattered were her grades.

  With nothing but school and church to occupy her time, she was able to maintain a 4.2 GPA, which was higher than any the school had ever seen due to her vast array of extracurricular activities. Her academic prowess was unheard of, but she never learned to relate to anyone. Her peers didn’t understand her, and she didn’t understand them. They were all from different worlds.

  It was a cold winter morning, with ice and salt covering the pavement. The school was one of the few places in the city that could afford the expense of using salt on the pavement. They didn’t care that the salt degraded the sidewalk. They knew that lawsuits were more expensive.

  It was the kind of place that catered to its students. They passed people that never should’ve gotten ahead. Idiots graduated every day when they could do little more than read simple sentences. It was the hunger for money that kept the school going, and as far as Marie was concerned it was greed and avarice that fueled the entire planet. There was greed for flesh, greed for wealth and greed for violence.

  She saw the demon lust in every man that passed her, and the jealousy in women’s eyes. She saw the carnal passion that moved through lovers, like hellfire engulfing them in flames. They knew better, every last one of them knew what they were doing, but they were all driven by their flesh. It was just like Mama said.

  Marie sat down under her favorite tree and reached into the tiny hemp purse at her side. She pulled out a tiny plastic tube with a red lid. This was where she found her comfort and escaped the mundane. She opened her binder to a blank piece of newsprint. She closed her eyes and took around in the tube for the right one to call to her. It was there, that tiny piece of burnt carbon that opened a door to another world.

  Through her charcoal drawings could shape beautiful flowers and faces. She could create forests and waterfalls, or massive structures. She felt like she was creating life, and that that life was whatever she wanted it to be rather than the harsh reality around her.

  When the sun started to set, she started to make her way up the sidewalk towards the tiny neighborhood streets that would take her home. Her mother would want her to help with dinner so she decided to pick up the pace. The houses that surrounded hers on Gary Lane were all tailored and perfect with short green lawns and little flowers in front, but they were sterile. They didn’t look like they were lived in. They simply looked like they were maintained. The flower beds had never grown food. The lawn didn’t have the little path leading through the grass, or the little homemade wreath on the door with the blue and white fake roses. They never painted their house, the paint was chipping, but her house was whitewashed every two years. Nobody care about those kinds of things anymore.

  She opened the door softly, so as not to disturb her mother. She walked through the quiet parlor, with its antique wooden couches and kerosene lamps to the living room, where her mother was sitting in the dark and quietly.

  “Ow, child you scared me.” She looked down to see that her mother had pricked her finger. She was wiry, like her daughter, but her hair was auburn and always kept in a tight bun.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” she set her bag near the hard couch and walked over.

  “So,” Phyllis began, “how was school?”

  “Alright. I aced a calculus exam.”

  “Have you been able to avoid temptation?” The woman’s straight-lipped face slapped Marie with an accusatory glare.

  Marie was filled with embarrassment. She looked away and said, “Yes, mama.”

  “Only liars avoid their mother’s eyes.” Her mother put down her sewing and stood up to walk past her. “You’re not a liar, are you, Marie?” She got out a sterile dishrag from the sink and started scrubbing a spot off of the counter.

  “No, Mama,” she had a confident voice and an innocent smile.

  “If you lie to me, child, He will know.” Her mother’s soft voice was stern and determined. Her oratory manner was a constant staple in their house, especially after Marie’s father died when she was 9.

  The house lost its vitality when Herman died. Now it was nothing more than quiet sewing and dark rooms. There was dust gathering in the parlor, and he mother became more and more insistent about the way things should be. She was strict, but she knew the way the world was, better than Marie knew her own body, and she was protecting her daughter.

  Phyllis turned around as Marie looked longingly at the chair behind her. It had been a hard day. The woman opened the refrigerator to assess the situation. ‘We’ll need some eggs and some butter. I don’t want the expensive kind—get spread.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Her mother reached into the little Mason jar at the top of the refrigerator and pulled out a five dollar bill. “Get nothing else, now. I’m making chicken and potatoes tonight, but we’ll need the rest tomorrow.” She handed the crisp bill to her daughter, along with the whistle on the top of the fridge. “You take your whistle and you use it if you have any trouble.”

  “Yes, Mama.” Marie made her way out into the dark night.

  * * * * *

  Phyllis hummed softly to the sound of her favorite choir on her tiny record player. It had been her mother’s. June had never needed to have the firm hand of a father the way that she did. She couldn’t think about that. She felt the familiar stabbing feeling in her gut and she double over—nearly collapsing onto the cutting board where she had been cutting the chicken leg quarters.

  He had been so strong. He could’ve held them up in a way that she never could’ve. He could’ve guided Marie. She felt like she was constantly trying to hold onto what little control she had. Women are flawed, Phyllis knew that. They didn’t have the strength that men have, and only a man can instruct a young woman in the true ways of chastity.

  Phyllis knew that one day it would happen. Marie would find a man who wanted to lead her away from home, but in this world, with the way that things were, she could never be sure that her daughter would remain pure. Temptation was always around the corner, and she had to fight righteously to be sure that her daughter wasn’t getting caught up in it.

  Chapter 2

  Marie didn’t like walking at night, when the demons of liquor and smoke made their way through the streets. She saw the boys in their twisted caps and tight shirts swaggering around the streets. She knew these creatures; so intrinsically intertwined in their animal desires, they could hardly see. Their lives were made up of the constant pursuit of pleasure, so much so that they couldn’t hold on to money, or oftentimes even a place to stay.

  They stole form girls like her, and as she made her way up to the store, she kept her eyes straight, trying to avoid the gaze of the men that walked past her. Some looked, a pale man with a thin face and a jersey stared as he stood against the corner of a building.

  “Hey, babe,” he walked closer to her and she jumped. No cars were coming so she ran across the street and he stood at the curb laughing. She was frantically running. She didn’t even see him stop. But she did here him cry out, “I just wanted a taste of that pretty little thing!”

  The General Market was less than a block away and she got there as fast as she could. It was rush hour so the place was crowded with people getting dinner before they headed home. She got a shopping cart near the door and ran in so she could get what little she had to buy. She ran to the back, snatched it up and turned around and bumped into Lucifer.

  He had on a pristine white shirt with dark hair parted down the middle and a black jacket made form cow’s skin. His pant—she couldn’t think about those. She darted to the right to get by and he darted to the right. She moved to the left and so did she. “I’m sorry. Excuse me.” She went to move past him and he blocked her with his round lips so close to her face—hellfire was burning in her stomach. His breath was fuel to the flames.

 
; “Virgin Marie, his cocky grin spelled danger. “How about I come see you sometime, huh?” He put his hand in his pockets and thrust his pelvis forward.

  She was shivering and shaking all at once and didn’t miss a single second of it. He was staring at her, with his dark brown eyes, so intently that she felt like he could read her mind. He was an obstruction stuck in the middle of her path to righteousness. “I—

  “I’ll see you tonight.” He turned around and walked away. She couldn’t watch. She tried to move her eyes up, to the right or to the left, anything to keep her from looking at him walk away.

  I must avoid temptation, she thought. I must avoid temptation.

  Over and over she repeated her silent mantra as she made her way to the checkout line. She paid the meager sum and carefully placed the change in her hem purse. She had little control over her thoughts. She was off in a different world, where her body could intertwine with another’s and she could capture his breath with her lips. His mouth could linger where it shouldn’t.

  I must avoid temptation.

  She could be sheltered in those muscular arm where she would be safe and warm. She could feel him inside of her.

  I must avoid temptation.

  She wondered what it would be like to have a man overtake her completely, finally giving in and letting the dam break. She knew that there was pleasure out there, pleasure she couldn’t even imagine.

  She made her way out the door and he was standing there to the right with a cigarette in his hand and the other in his pockets. He was a demon, come to take her away from the path of righteousness with his sheer masculine beauty.

  She tried not to look when he grabbed that place and smiled at her. She didn’t want to see that bulge that could move her in ways that she never thought possible. Instead she kept walking and he laughed again, while moved behind her like some infernal phantom.

  He got on his bike with his eyes never leaving her form and when the thunderous engine sounded she jumped. He could show her that pleasure, but she couldn’t let him regardless of the liquid dripping down her legs or the pressure building just below the surface. She didn’t want to see the images, the moments of passion pulsing through her mind, but they wouldn’t stop—she couldn’t allow them to stop.

  Instead, she just kept walking down the street, trying to keep her eyes open because every single time she did, his cocky smile was staring back at her. What did he mean that he’d see her tonight? That was the scariest part—the biggest thrill.

  This was fantasy, and nothing more. He didn’t really want her, the mousy girl that didn’t fit in. She was too strange. She didn’t talk like everyone else. All of her clothes were homemade and her hair didn’t have any color in it. She never wore makeup—he mother forbade it. She was to dress as plainly as possible, and that was why her mother made all of her clothes. She didn’t wear color, like the other girls—vanity was the greatest of all evils. Instead, she wore drab grays, black and whites. She was allowed some color, like pale blues and navy, but what little she did wear only added to the effect. He didn’t want her. If he wanted anything, he wanted to hurt her.

  They always hurt her. One day, when she was in high school, her locker was covered in dark red sludge saying, ‘Virgin Marie.” There was disgusting smell coming from it and inside she found dirty pads, covered in blood and filth.

  She was the Virgin Marie to him. She wasn’t the kind of girl that he wanted. He was the kind of girl he hated, because she wouldn’t give it up. She wouldn’t do it, no matter how hard it would be resist the assault to her senses. She was determined. She knew that in the end, she would get past this.

  When she finally arrived at home, the safety of the yellow lights peeking through the thin curtains put things in perspective. She couldn’t be hurt by him, and temptation didn’t enter her sanctuary.

  “Marie, is that you?” She heard her mother’s voice calling from the kitchen.

  “Yes, mama.” She walked in to find the smell of boiling spinach and potatoes reminding her just how hungry she was. She handed the butter and eggs over to her mother and they began the process of dredging the chicken and getting it ready to fry.

  “Did everything go OK?”

  Marie looked down. She didn’t want her mother to see it inside of her, that growing ball of lust. She knew she could anyways. She saw everything. “Yes, Mama,” her mother didn’t look convinced. She dropped what she was doing and rushed around the counter to the kitchen table where she was standing.

  Marie felt bony fingers grab her chin and pull her face up with the force of a lion. Her cold eyes were searching Marie, staring through her and trying to find the source of her obvious indiscretion. Her mother had never seemed so menacing before. “What happened,” she quipped.

  “Nothing happened, Mama.” When she lied she was stabbing her mother in the heart and by the way she cocked her head, her mother knew she’d done it.

  Her hand shot up so quick, Marie didn’t know she’d been slapped till she felt the sting on her face and saw the dots on her eyes. “One more time, child.”

  “This bo—

  “BOY!?”

  “He ran after me in the stre—

  “You tempted somebody, you filthy creature.” Phyllis spat in her face, and Marie could feel the tears falling down her face, like the pleas of a child.

  “Mama, I didn’t tempt anybody.”

  “It’s your fault. You’ve done something terrible. Now, go to your room, and we will speak about this later. Think about what you’ve done.” Phyllis turned around and went back into the kitchen. Her limp made her even more menacing, as though the woman were a monster trying to hide its true form.

  She was an adult being told to go to her room, and the irony of it wasn’t lost on her for a second as she slowly made her way to the second door on the right to her sparsely furnished sanctuary, which was to be vacuumed, morning and night, with the sheets washed daily. She hated her mother, she had for a long time. She loved her in the sort of sentimental way that every child loves their parents, but she would rather see the woman burn than stay a second longer with her in this house. She shouldn’t be bound here by the hateful woman. She should be out exploring the world and enjoying her surroundings. She should be starting her life, but her mother didn’t think it was right for a girl to leave home until after she was married. How would she get married, though, if she wasn’t allowed to talk to boys, and she wasn’t allowed to wear good clothes?

  She could be modest and still wear things that were nice. She could live purely and still talk to men. She knew what her mother was trying to avoid, and she understood, but she didn’t think it should be like this every single time a boy talked to her.

  Life should be easy. Instead, she was being stretched thin trying to adhere to her mother’s strict moral code. She laid down on her hard, cheap mattress and dug her head into her pillow. That was her one escape, the place where she could find some comfort, then when she got up, she would have to make the bed and be sure there weren’t any wrinkles on it.

  The sound of that bike haunted her. It was like the hounds of hell howling. She wondered what it would be like to have her arms around him and ride past this terrible place. She was going to leave if she could. She could still pure and live somewhere else. She didn’t have to be like her mother.

  Chapter 3

  A bony finger slammed in the back of her shoulder blade, and Marie turned around to see her mother with her sharp eyes staring down at her. “Go wash your hands.”

  Marie sighed drowsily and responded, “Alright.”

  Her mother turned around and closed the door softly. She was quick to get out of the room. She sat up and looked around. It was completely dark outside. She got up slowly and ran her head over the covers to be sure that it didn’t have any wrinkles on it. When she was done, she padded out of her room and over to the bathroom. She splashed some water on her face and looked in the mirror. She was too ugly. She’d have to make it on her own. No man
would ever want her.

  She walked into the dining room to see the table already set with a water jug and a bowl of mashed potatoes in the center and three pieces of her mother’s fried chicken on her plate. Her mother stared up at her from the counter, where she was scrubbing and sighed. ‘Well, are you gonna sit down? I have to get back to my sewing. I’m trying to mend that church dress of yours.”

  “Yes, Mama.” She said those words at least three thousand times a day.

  Dinner was silent for the most part until they had finished up and her mother stared at her. She had her lowered. She didn’t want to meet her gaze again. “I want you to speak with Pastor Graham in the morning.”

  “I have class in the morning.”

  Phyllis was out of her chair in an instant with her head so close to Marie’s that the girl could smell her peppermint mouthwash as if it were a knife stabbing into her. “You’re gonna put CLASS over your soul, child?”

  “I’m sure my soul will be fine. I haven’t done anything wrong.” Her mother stood her up with surprising force and turned her around. She pushed Marie to the ground saying, “You’re gonna learn.” Her voice was calm. She didn’t care what she was doing to the girl, and that in itself was worse than any punishment that Marie could suffer. “Go to your room!” Her voice seemed to shake the walls.

  “Mama, please! Mama, don’t.” Marie slammed her to the ground and onto her hands and knees. Marie was screaming. “Please, Mama.” She turned around and tried to grab onto her Mother’s leg. Phyllis just kicked her off and turned her around. Marie knew what she had to do. She didn’t like it. It was the worst thing that could possibly happen. She hated her mother.

  “You will not defy me!” She kicked Marie in the butt and the girl crawled to the second door on the right. She fell against her bedroom door. “Now, you stay put until you agree to do what is right.”