Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 2: Gage ~ Cash ~ Knight (Vengeance MC series Book 8)

by Natasha Thomas

  “It’s not your job to protect me, Dex,” she snaps, refusing to look at me.

  “Yes, it is,” I snap back. “We’ve always looked out for each other, Daisy. Remember the time Dad hit me for not cleaning up his mess after he threw up everywhere?” I remind her. “You got me an ice pack and sat with me until I fell asleep to make sure I was okay. This is the same thing. We tell each other everything, I don’t want that to change, Daisy. Promise me it won’t change,” my voice wobbles at the end.

  I can’t stand the thought of Aislinn not telling me things. Just knowing that she could keep secrets from me has my blood boiling and my hands clenching into fists.

  There’s never been a time we haven’t shared every detail of our lives. Her dreams to go to college one day, my desire to get the hell out of here when I’m old enough, what happens behind the doors of our trailers, we’ve told each other all of it. The good. The bad. The horrible.

  “I remember,” she whispers, placing her hand on my forearm giving it a light squeeze.

  “You and me. Dex and Aislinn, forever,” I whisper back.

  Aislinn’s lips quirk at that, her eyes brightening.

  “Forever and ever, Dex,” she says, her voice soft and melodic.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ~ Aislinn Banks ~

  “Awesome dipped in awesome, covered in bitch sprinkles. Yep, that’s me.”

  – someecards

  Four years later…

  “Get back here you betraying bastard,” I hiss as Dex as he takes off into the woods that surrounds the trailer park we live in.

  Running after him, I stumble a few times, managing to keep my feet but only just. I can’t believe he did this to me. Of all the seriously messed up crap he’s pulled over the years, this by far and away is the worst.

  Imagine my surprise when I’m sitting outside minding my own business while everyone else is inside eating lunch and I get approached by the editor of the school paper. Apparently a little birdy told her that I take photos in my spare time, and would be honored if they would consider me for the photographer position that just became available.

  “Admit it, you’re grateful, but you’re just having a hard time expressing how much,” he chuckles from a few feet away.

  “You call it grateful, I call it murderously angry, but why split hairs?” I retort sarcastically.

  “Come on, Daisy,” Dex pouts, sticking his head out from behind a corpse of trees. “You’ve always wanted to be able to do something with those pictures you take, and now you can. Deliah was really impressed with the ones I showed her. She said she’d never seen anything like them.”

  That may be so, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to share them with anyone. Other than Dex, that is.

  Taking photos is my passion; it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Seeing and capturing beauty through the lens of a camera is like visual poetry to me. Being able to immortalize the perfect sunset, a hummingbird in flight, the woods as the light hits it just right is amazing, but without a doubt, my favorite subject is Dex.

  The way his expression morphs from relaxed to intense when he’s concentrating. His profile as he studies something in the distance. Dex wears his emotions on his face so I could take a million pictures of him in the same pose, but none of the would ever be the same. It all depends on what he’s thinking about and what mood he’s in photos of him can turn out dark and brooding, or fun and carefree. I only have a few of the latter.

  When I hit high school at the beginning of last year, I took an instant liking to, Mr. Albertson, the photography teacher. He is kind, but not in a creepy way like mom’s boyfriends, generous with his time and advice on how to improve my work, but most of all, Mr. Albertson saw something in me no one other than Dex has. Talent.

  As far back as I can remember, my Mom has told me I will never amount to anything. Too stupid, ugly, useless to hope for better than a career in waitressing if I’m lucky. I’m not putting waitresses down, I know they work long hours for little pay and have to deal with assholes every day, but I want more out of life. I want to make something of myself. Not to prove my mom wrong because I could care less what she says, but because I need to. For me.

  Once Mr. Albertson learned that I didn’t have my own camera and wouldn’t be able to afford one any time soon, he came to school the next day and presented me with one from his own collection. At his insistence I accepted, but only under the condition that it was to borrow, not to keep.

  The Nikon F2 hanging around my neck is my pride and joy. It’s an older camera – made in the nineteen seventies – and it takes 35mm film, but the photos it takes are better than some of the digital models available these days. Not to mention, I love developing my own work. It’s gratifying beyond belief to watch as they come to life in front of my eyes as if I’m witnessing whatever I captured all over again.

  Giving up on chasing Dex, because let’s be honest, with his long legs and speed I’ll never catch him, I slide down the trunk of a large tree to sit and wait for him to come back.

  I don’t have to wait long, Dex is dropping down beside me less than a minute later.

  “I hate it when you’re pissed at me,” he grumbles, admitting something I already know as he rests his head on my shoulder.

  For a highly intelligent person, Dex can be so incredibly dumb sometimes. He says he hates when I’m angry at him, yet he is constantly doing things to piss me off. Go figure.

  Not willing to let him know I’ve already forgiven him – I did only minutes after learning what he did – I murmur,

  “Mmhmm.”

  Dex turns his big seventeen-year-old body, packed with muscle toward me, places his hand on my hips and picks me up until I’m sitting between his legs with my back to his front. He rests his hands on my thighs, and when he does, I have to fight the urge to snuggle back further into him.

  Things began changing for me where Dex was concerned two years ago. At thirteen, I was confused by the feelings being around him stirred in me until I realized they had always been there, they were different now. Maturing maybe. I’ve loved Dex since I was two, and he asked if I wanted him to push me on the swings, but now I’m in love with him, and I have no idea what to do about it.

  “Tell me what it’ll take to get you to forgive me,” he sighs, sounding put out.

  “How about you start by explaining why you think what you did was okay,” I suggest, pinching the skin between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Ow,” Dex whines pathetically. “How many times do I have to tell you, domestic violence is never the answer?”

  Scoffing at his pitiful attempt at changing the subject, I pull my arm back and elbow him in his side.

  “Explain. Now,” I demand using my sternest voice.

  Dex leans down and kisses the top of my head, chuckling as he says,

  “As you wish, my little dictator. Truth?” He asks probably hoping I’ll say no. At my nod, he tells me, “I knew you’d be pissed, but I had to do it. You need the extra credits that position will give you on your college applications.”

  “I’m not applying next week, Dex. That’s more than two years away,” I argue.

  “I know that too,” he adds impatiently. “It was a good opportunity, Aislinn. One that wasn’t going to be available long. Deliah was already talking to other people who were interested when I approached her, so if I hadn’t jumped on it and said you’d do it, it would have been gone by tomorrow. I want you to get out of here and go to college, Daisy. You don’t belong here wasting your talents living in this shit hole.”

  Shaking my head, I interrupt,

  “We’re both going to get out of here, Dex. You and me, remember? We’ve only been talking about it forever.”

  “Yeah, Daisy, we are. But to do that, you’ve got to keep your grades up, get extra credits, and work your ass off so we can get as far away from here as possible.”

  Dex has been talking about going to out of state colleges for as long as I can recall. He doesn’t w
ant to stay in California if he can help it, and neither do I. But in order to afford it, both of us need to get scholarships which means getting good grades and financial aid.

  I rub my palm up and down the length of his calf soothingly, stating,

  “I will, Dex. You know I will. Just because you’re leaving two years before me doesn’t mean I’m going to drop the ball on this.”

  Dex kisses my hair again, rubbing his cheek across the top of my head.

  “So you forgive me then?” He asks somewhat hopefully. “It might not seem like it sometimes, but I’m only looking out for you, Daisy. Nothing means more to me than you do, and I don’t know what the hell I’d do if you didn’t follow me to college when you can.”

  Dex has been researching every college from New York, Washington, Miami, to even Mississipi as possible options for us. He systematically discounts them based on how much the cost of living is, and whether or not there are many jobs available in the area. He’s not picky; Dex will do anything, but he doesn’t want me working late at night in an unsafe neighborhood.

  Spinning around to face him, I straddle his thighs balancing on my knees.

  “Don’t ever question if I’ll follow you, Dex. I’ll always follow you.”

  He inches closer, resting his forehead on mine, his hot breath fanning my face.

  “Damn right you will,” he whispers, stroking his hands over my ribs. “I’ll set a place up for us, make sure everything’s ready for you, and then we’ll finally be free, Daisy. No more drunk parents. No more worrying about where to step to avoid getting stuck by needles. No more me having to clean you up after your mom flies into one of her rages. And no more fucking men hanging around scaring you. It’ll just be us, and it’ll be perfect.”

  “Tell me about what we’ll do when we’re free, Dex,” I murmur, laying my head on his broad shoulder and wrapping my arms around him.

  Dex and I have always been affectionate. A lot of the kids at school, especially the girls don’t understand our relationship, claiming that we’re secretly dating and simply hiding it from everyone. The guys, most of them Dex’s friends, think because we grew up together our friendship is strange, but they accept our displays of affection as par for the course.

  We hold hands, I sit on his lap, and Dex constantly has his arm around me if we’re walking anywhere. He makes me feel safe and cherished, and that’s worth more to me than anything which is why I haven’t told him how I feel about him. The last thing I want is to lose Dex. I wouldn’t survive it.

  Dex starts caressing up and down my back, his voice sounding slightly strained as he says,

  “I’m going to be accepted to Miami where it’s warm, and the sun is always shining. I’ll find us somewhere to live close to the beach so that you can swim whenever you want, and I can learn how to surf. We’ll go to school during the day, and I’ll work nights so you don’t have to worry about anything but school and taking pictures. One day someone is going to see your photos somewhere and realize you’re the most talented photographer in the world, offer you the job you’ve always wanted, and then you’ll be able to be my Sugar Mama,” he finishes, making me giggle into his neck.

  “And what about you? What will you be doing while I’m off jet setting around the globe?” I question already knowing the answer.

  “Right beside you, of course,” Dex replies cockily. “How else am I going to live the life of a kept man?”

  Noticing the shadows falling lower, I groan,

  “I’m going to have to head back soon. It’ll be dark in another half and hour.”

  This is the part of the day I hate the most; saying goodbye to Dex. When I’m with him, everything feels right even though most of the time it’s so far from okay it isn’t funny.

  Holding me tighter, Dex rumbles,

  “Not yet. Ten more minutes then I’ll walk you home.”

  “Okay,” I whisper, wriggling closer.

  I didn’t know it then, but my world was about to change, and not in a good way. In fact, it was going to become almost unbearable for so long I would consider taking the cowards way out.

  For years after, I would ask myself what I would have done if I’d known what would happen that night. Would I have held Dex a little longer and tighter? Would I have not climbed through his open window when that man broke the lock on my door and tried to get into bed with me? Or would I have not forgotten to remind Dex to set an alarm so that I could leave before his Dad woke up and found me there?

  There were so many things I could have done that might have changed the outcome for us, but dwelling on them only makes the pain of losing Dex more excruciating so I chose to live in the here and now instead. That doesn’t mean I don’t mourn our friendship every day, I do. I just try only to do it when I’m alone and I can let my tears flow freely.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ~ Gage ~

  “You make me wish I had more middle fingers.”

  – T-shirt

  Ten hours later….

  The door to my bedroom burst open startling me from a really good dream I was having about the girl currently curled up in my arms. My dad glares at me, pointing silently to the living area, expecting me to dutifully follow him.

  Carefully unwrapping myself from Aislinn, I rub small circles on her back until she settles, not wanting her to be awake for the yelling match that’s about to take place. I know it’s wrong having her sleep with me, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.

  “What the fuck were you thinking putting that girl in your bed,” Dad seethes as soon as he catches sight of me.

  My dad, Neil used to be a good looking man until he let alcohol get the best of him. It wasn’t for the usual reasons he started drinking either. He didn’t lose his job, he isn’t self-medicating, and he doesn’t have an addictive personality. The fact is, Dad likes the feeling of being drunk. He told me as much.

  Mom is a different story. She was curious as to what she was missing out on, so she started drinking with dad at dinner. Dinner turned into lunch, lunch turned into Bloody Mary’s for breakfast, and that eventually turned into a two bottle of vodka a day drinking problem. Not that she thinks it’s a problem, according to Mom, she just like how it tastes and has the self-control to stop whenever she wants. I vehemently disagree.

  That said, they aren’t the worst parents I’ve met. Speaking of one of them, as if Nancy knew I was thinking about her, she walks through the door looking like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

  “Where is the little bitch?” She demands, her cigarette balanced precariously in the corner of her mouth.

  “Asleep,” I answer honestly.

  Nancy sneers at me before turning to my dad and running her hand up his arm. Fucking disgusting. By the looks of it, these two are more than acquaintances due to the nature of the children’s friendship. Her touch is too familiar for that. These two are hooking up, I’m sure of it.

  “Well, go wake her ass up,” Nancy states not caring that Aislinn has to be up for school in an hour, and it makes more sense to leave her be. “Her curfew’s eight at night not eight in the fucking morning.”

  Staring unblinkingly at Nancy we both know her problem is not Aislinn breaking her curfew – a curfew which doesn’t exist mind you. There’s more to this, and I intend to find out what that is.

  I shift until my body is blocking the short hall to my room and ask,

  “What’s wrong? Did you need her for something?”

  Nancy grimaces, a sign she’s about to lie, which she proves when she snaps,

  “Yeah, I did. Not that it’s any of your business, but Jimmy came over to spend family time with us, and my stupid bitch of a daughter was a no-show. Her not being there made him pissed, and he took that shit out on me, so I figure it’s only fair she makes it up to him by cooking him breakfast.”

  There are so many things wrong with that statement I don’t know where to begin.

  “And you thought you’d get her to do that at what, five-thirty
in the morning?” I question suspiciously.

  It’s then Nancy shocks the hell out of me by smiling at me.

  “You’re not in the position to be asking me anything, kid. The way I hear it, you’re out of here soon, off to a fancy college or some shit. If you ask me, I don’t think any of those places would be too happy to hear about you sleeping with an underage girl every night, but that’s just my opinion. I’ll have to call them personally to see if they agree.”

  I can feel all the blood drain from my face at her underhanded comment. She knows damn well, Aislinn and I do nothing but sleep when she climbs into bed with me, but I doubt Nancy would relay that to whoever she intends to talk to.

  Taking a deep breath in through my nose, I grind out,

  “What is it you want, Nancy? Obviously, it’s something big if you’re threatening my college education to get it.”

  An evil grin tips her thin lips.

  “It’s not about what I want, kid. I think in this situation we can both help each other. When you get done with school, you want to get out of here and go to college, right?” At my ascent, Nancy goes on to tell me, “And I want my good for nothing daughter to pay me back for carrying her ass all these years, so as you can see, we’re at cross purposes. You hanging around my kid is putting all sorts of ideas in her head. She doesn’t need to get a degree to work at one of the restaurants or bars around here and support her mother like I have her. All she needs is a good pair of shoes, and time away from you to realize the dreams you filled her head with are bullshit.”