Trusting Bull: Savage Brothers MC

by Marie, Jordan

  The back of my head connects with some motherfucker and the feeling of blood smears against my bald head. I slam my head again hoping I can kill the son of a bitch.

  I scream out as dirty hands try to clamp over my mouth. I twist and turn until I can get just enough of the hand in my mouth to bite down and tear. I do with an angry scream. There’s a moment of disappointment that I can’t manage to tear the finger off with just the force of my teeth.

  Still, it’s enough to get room. Some leeway so I can throw an elbow into the son of a bitch’s stomach that has been helping to restrain me. There are four of the motherfuckers holding me, three now that the guy behind me let go. I hope I at least killed him. I will kill them all though. I will. I will tear them apart piece by piece. That is the last clear thought I have before a large silver flash comes at me.

  I feel the impact of the pipe against the side of my head and at the same time a sensation of skin tearing down my side. The scent of blood mixes in with the dirty smell of my cell. Stabbed, I’ve been stabbed. Will I die here? Please let me die before they do what they are planning.

  “Got something for you, pretty boy,” the voice says as the darkness encloses around me.

  It was six words. Six words that would destroy me and start me on my path through hell.

  Chapter 1

  Dancer

  It’s dark, but not night, that much I know. The heavy, foam-backed curtains are pulled tight over the window and a small sliver of light is allowed to shine where the two panels meet. There is a pounding behind my eyes and a cold sweaty mist covers my body. My head is swimming as I close my eyes against the gut clenching nausea that slams through me.

  Waking up like this is nothing new. It’s the normal—my new fucked up normal. The room smells of smoke, cheap whiskey, perfumed whores, and sex. Hell, I’ve stuck my dick in so much loose pussy in the last week the damn thing smells like week old tuna.

  I rub my hand over the short stubble on my head. In the week that I’ve been out of the joint, I’ve started letting it grow. I kept it shaved during my stint in jail. There are just too many fucking bugs in that damn hell-hole. I’m not sure if I’ll cut it again. Anything different from what it was in there is automatically better.

  I push bodies off of me and move to the edge of the bed. The two chicks in the bed should have left last night. One of them grumbles in complaint, but she rolls her ass over on her girlfriend and goes back out. When I look over at the lily-white ass sticking up in the air my hand automatically goes down to my dick and stretches it. Damn thing doesn’t take the hint though. If anything, it seems to want to crawl inside of my balls and hide. It’s a shame because it’s a damn fine ass, but what the fuck ever. I stand up and the world spins as my body tilts too far to the left. I right myself and walk towards the bathroom, cursing when my bare feet kick one of the empty liquor bottles littering the floor.

  Shit, that hurt. I lean over to pick the bottle up and the world tilts again. This time I overestimate my coordination and fall. I maneuver at the last minute and land on my side instead of my motherfucking head. I lay there a minute looking up in the darkness. It hurts to breathe, not really from the fall. Hell, it’s hurt to breathe for so long I can’t remember it being any other way. Why I can’t swallow a bullet and get it over with? I’m tired of fighting it all. So fucking tired…

  “Dancer! Open up, man!”

  The old hotel door vibrates with the pounding it receives. My head goes down, both hands raking over it again. I don’t want my brothers here. Why couldn’t they just leave me alone? I told them to.

  “Dancer, open this fucking door or I’m kicking it in!” Crusher yells as he pounds the damn door again. I wince at the pain the noise brings.

  I struggle to stand. I may not have had shit to do with my brothers since I got out of the joint, but I know that he’s not going to give up. Before I can fully pick my ass up out of the floor, the door slams open and bounces off the wall with a huge cracking noise. I wince in pain the noise brings and close my eyes against the glaring light that is now in the room.

  “Fucking hell! Close the damn-motherfucking-son-of-a-bitching door!” I growl, not bothering to turn around and look at Crusher. It’s better to keep my back against the light.

  “Oh god.”

  I turn my head against my will when I hear that voice. I know that voice. That voice is imbedded in my brain, my motherfucking black soul. Carolina Grace, the woman who offered me heaven, and brought me hell.

  I’m going to rip Crusher’s head off. My eyes lock with the one person in this world that I never expected, nor wanted to lay eyes on again.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  She jerks back like I just physically hit her. I’ve never hit a woman in my life, but I have so much anger stored up, she’d be smart to stay away from me.

  “Hi, Jacob,” she whispers into the room and it makes me want to scream and roar at her. I don’t want her here. I don’t want to see her, I don’t want to deal with her and I sure as hell don’t want to hear that sweet voice saying my name. She’s poison; she’s a fucking knife to the gut that repeatedly stabs. She’s the reason my head is all messed up, that my life is all screwed up and most of all she is the reason I want to swallow a fucking bullet.

  “GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS ROOM!” I roar pulling myself up and charging towards her.

  She gasps and backs up against the hotel door. I’m almost to her. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I reach her. I really don’t. I might even strangle the life out of her. I know I will push her out of my room, out of my space, out of my life. I know it. In the end the point is moot though because Crusher jumps in front of me and stops me from reaching her.

  We’re pretty evenly matched, but if I had been sober he wouldn’t have stopped me. As it is, he contains me and looks over his shoulder.

  “Red, wait for me by my bike, darlin’.”

  “Okay, Alexander,” she whispers and gives me another tortured look.

  Her green eyes are filled with tears, but I don’t care. Her and her tears can rot in hell. Her auburn hair shines too bright in the dark room. It’s like a beacon of hope, a memory of a better time, a better life. That pisses me off even more. Wait. Hold up! Alexander? What the hell?

  “Are you sinking your dick in that cunt?” I ask in disgust, pushing away from Crusher.

  “Jesus H. Christ, Dance! You smell like a damn gutter,” Crusher says. His face is curled in disgust.

  The bitches from last night are sitting up in bed looking at me and Crusher and it pisses me off. I told them to be gone by morning. I don’t even know why I keep trying to bury myself in pussy. It’s not working anyway and I sure as fuck don’t want them around after.

  “Get dressed and get the hell out,” I growl, walking towards the small bath, intent on taking a shower.

  “If you’re going to wait around till I get out, make sure those bitches leave,” I order Crusher.

  “Dance man…”

  “And you sure as fuck better keep that gash you came with outside.”

  I make it to the door before a crash is heard. I turn to look and Crusher has taken one of the empty liquor bottles and smashed the old mirror hanging on the wall opposite of the bed. I look at my brother, his body is rigid with anger and the laid back country ol’ shucks cocky vibe he normally has is gone.

  “Dance, I’m warning you, lay off of Red. I know you’re fucked up, but that woman doesn’t deserve your wrath or insults.”

  “I’ve rotted in hell for two years because of that woman.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I want to argue, but truth is I don’t give a fuck. The sooner I shower and talk to his ass the sooner he’ll leave and I can find a new bottle.

  “Whatever. Sorry I insulted your Twinkie of the month,” I grumble and slam the door on his curse.

  Chapter 2

  Carrie

  I make it outside, stand by Alexander’s bike, and drag air into my lungs.
Almost two years and this isn’t how I imagined seeing Jacob again. He’s drunk, naked as the day he was born, and obviously has been in bed with two women…Two! At the same time! When Alexander told me he was going to stop by and check on Jacob, I couldn’t resist coming in. It was a bad move. Still, even knowing I shouldn’t go inside, I couldn’t stop myself. It had been so long since I had seen him. The temptation was just too much. So, I caved.

  I don’t know what I expected, I really didn’t. It wasn’t pure hate. It really wasn’t, but sadly that was exactly what Jacob radiated when he looked at me. I think he might want to kill me. I laugh hysterically. He’d have to get in line, wouldn’t he?

  The only reason I am in Kentucky is because someone killed my parents and is still after me. Dragon had ordered Alexander to come to Tennessee to get me after Jacob’s mom called him. The next day I was packed up and heading to Kentucky with a man who called himself Crusher. It took me half the trip to get Alexander’s real name out of him.

  I have been here for four months now and for the most part I’ve loved it. The Savage MC has become my adopted family, with Dragon, Nicole and Alexander being some of the best friends I have ever had. That won’t last though. The minute I heard Jacob was getting out, I knew it would end.

  Don’t get me wrong, I wanted him out. I really did. I just knew that once he was, I would have to leave. Jacob blames me for what happened to him and in a way he was right. It had been my stupidity to follow Jacob and his buddy to the club that night. I wanted to prove to him I was grown up. I wanted to show him that he needed to take me seriously, that I could be the woman for him. I was so stupid, so incredibly naïve. The only thing I accomplished was proving myself to be horribly immature and to ruin three lives.

  “You’re going to have to toughen up, Red, if Dance is the man you want to hang your hat on,” Bull offers.

  I hear Bull’s voice and my body instantly stiffens. Bull makes me uncomfortable in ways I don’t totally understand. I turn and see him standing in the shadow of the old hotel. He’s leaning against the brick wall, wearing worn jeans, a faded red t-shirt and his Savage MC leather vest. He’s got a black skull cap on and it looks good on him. I’m not sure there’s much that could make him look bad though. The gold studs he wears in his ears sparkle as he walks to me.

  “He’s not,” I say, as my eyes take him in. He stops in front of me and he overshadows everything, dominating. He’s wearing these dark sunglasses and the silly girl in me mourns over the fact I can’t see his eyes. Bull has the kind of eyes that sparkle with humor constantly, which is odd because he doesn’t talk that often.

  “Bullshit. Lie to yourself if you want, Red, but not to me.”

  “He’s not,” I insist. “Besides even if he was, Jacob hates me.”

  “Funny thing about love and hate, they tend to get all mixed up.”

  “If you had seen him a minute ago, you wouldn’t say that,” I explain, a little panicked at the way his eyes are pinned on me. I’m like a deer caught in the bright glare of headlights on a dark night. My heart even jumps in my chest.

  “What’s your name anyway?” I ask knowing it’s pointless. Since I’ve been staying here, he has never given me his real name.

  “Bull.”

  “No, I mean like Jacob and Alex….”

  “I’m not him, Red.”

  “Him?”

  “The one who folds to the promises on your lips. The name is Bull.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say honestly.

  “I know; that’s what makes you so fucking tempting.”

  “You’re a confusing man, Mr… Bull,” he busts out laughing and I’m drawn to the noise. It’s husky and dark and it sends tingles of awareness through my body, not quite like they used to be when Jacob was around, but honestly it is the first time I’ve felt anything close to it. Bull is dangerous. I’m drawn to him. If I hadn’t been in love with Jacob my entire life, he would have been really dangerous. Something makes me keep trying to get Bull to talk to me; maybe I just appreciate the fact that he was one of the first men to ever notice me as a woman. I wish Jacob would do that.

  “Red, I’m kind of hoping Dance remains a fool just so I can sample what you got.”

  “I don’t know what you…” I stutter, but I don’t get the sentence finished because his lips come down against mine. They’re warm and soft. I can taste a hint of coffee on them. I’m in shock. I never expected to be kissed, not by Bull and not here. My body is frozen, but slowly things begin to register. Like the feel of his hand sliding up my back and the heat of his touch, even through my jacket. The woodsy outdoor smell of him is nice, and I take a deep breath through my nose wanting more.

  “Open your mouth, Red,” he mumbles against my lips. Would it surprise him to know that no man has ever kissed me before? I’m debating opening my mouth for him. Half of me really, really wants to and the other half fights against it. The other half wants to give all my firsts to Jacob. That’s stupid. I know it is. Jacob wants nothing to do with me and certainly doesn’t want my kisses. I have this amazing, good-looking, virile man wanting entry into my mouth and I’m thinking of another man. A man who hates me and can’t stand me, and yet I can’t stop wanting him. This would explain why I’m still a virgin at twenty.

  My hands go to Bull’s biceps to steady myself and to pull away, when I hear Jacob’s voice.

  “Don’t look now Alexander but looks like your Twinkie has already moved on to another brother.”

  The contempt in Jacob’s voice is so thick it physically wounds me. My body jerks from the thinly disguised blow. Of course he thinks I’m a whore. Why wouldn’t he? I pull back and look up at Bull. His eyes are hidden behind his sunglasses. Can he tell how much Jacob’s words cut me? Does it show on my face?

  Bull’s head moves down so his lips graze my ear and his finger slides along the side of my face. “Toughen up, Red. Anything good is worth fighting for.”

  I swallow as I try to concentrate on his words. They’re good words. I would totally listen to them, if Jacob gave me anything to fight for. If we ever had anything between us, I would absolutely fight. We haven’t though and I’m pretty sure Bull is wrong.

  He steps away and walks back towards the hotel where he had first been standing. I watch him for a minute, wishing he had stayed. At least when he was here I didn’t feel so vulnerable from all the hate pouring off of Jacob. I can feel it. He’s doing nothing to hide it. How can a man stand in front of you with hate radiating from every single inch of him and yet still look so heart-stopping gorgeous? The color in his tattoos, the deep brown of his eyes, the short dark hair I crave to touch, the muscular build that makes me weak in the knees…There is so much to want, so much to crave.

  “What are you looking at, bitch? You want to tangle with me too? I’d rather chop my dick off than have it anywhere near you,” he growls and it hurts.

  I look down at the ground so he won’t see my face. I’m afraid I can’t hold back the tears that want to fall. “Still, you seem to have Crush and Bull hot for you. I bet they’d tag team you if you asked nice enough.”

  I try to tune out his words. I stare at the cracked pavement at my feet. My eyes follow a jagged line to where it disappears under my shoe. I wish I could disappear. When I look up I see that Bull has returned and punched Jacob in the stomach. He’s watching Jacob closely. Jacob is bent over rubbing his stomach and cursing.

  “You’re a fucking asshole Dance, but keep shooting your poison. I’ll gladly take what you’re giving away,” Bull says over his shoulder as he grabs my hand and pulls me along with him.

  “You’re riding with me, Red.”

  I shuffle my feet and try to follow because he is tall as heck. It’s hard for me to keep up and for some reason Bull is intent on pulling me with him, so I stumble.

  “Where the hell is she going?” Jacob yells.

  “If you had your head out of your ass, you’d know,” Bull replies and I’m trying to deci
de which is more astounding. The fact that I’m in the same area with Jacob after all this time or the fact that Bull has said more words in the last twenty minutes than he probably has spoken all week.

  He hops on his bike and I use my hands on his shoulder to brace myself as I get on behind him. I lay the side of my face against his back and wrap my arms around him tight. Bull pulls out and directs his bike towards where Alexander and Jacob are standing arguing. My eyes freeze on Jacob’s. It seems like forever, but I know it’s just mere seconds. It couldn’t have been any longer than that but it’s long enough that I have to close my eyes against the pain I see reflected back at me.

  Chapter 3

  Dancer

  I watch as Bull rides away with Carrie, it leaves me feeling unsettled. I don’t know why. It shouldn’t bother me to see Carrie on the back of Bull’s bike. After the shit she pulled two years ago… Fuck, I know that’s not fair, it wasn’t her fault. It was me. I made the decision to gut the motherfucker who tried to rape her. I did that and I shouldn’t hold her responsible. Hell, given the choice, I’d do it again. How screwed up is that?

  She shouldn’t have been at the bar. She was under-age; she had no business being there that night. I knew she was chasing me around like a little lost puppy and while it was cute, I made it clear that nothing would ever happen between us. She was—hell she still is—just too damn young. Instead of taking my rejection like the adult she claimed to be, she went outside with that slimy motherfucker and ruined all our lives.

  My head is a dull roar even after the shower. I slip my shades on and get on my girl, without looking at Crush. I rub my hand over my stubby hair that’s growing out.

  My girl is a sleek black, Fatboy, Soft tail. She’s smooth and shines like wet pussy and rides low with twin pipes. She holds me close, her fat wheels grip the road better than any bike I’ve ever had. She’s weighted perfect, just a slight movement by me and she knows where to go. She purrs when we ride and growls when I’m stuck in traffic or a light.