by Jordan Marie
Late at night when I was alone in bed… late at night when I was cramping from the medicine and the hunger, knowing that there was no way I could eat—and not wanting to anyways… that’s when I really felt it: ugly. All the way through. Ugly. I hated the way I looked. I hated the disease inside of me that I had no control of.
I hated… me.
The nights were the worst. They were so much worse than the day, because that’s when the fear and the doubts crept in. I would get weak and go into the bathroom, stare into the mirror, and cry. I’d cry for losing parts of myself, cry for not knowing what would happen next, and cry because I felt completely and utterly alone.
With memories like that hanging on you, feeling beautiful even eighteen months later is not an easy feat. You grow your hair back, and it’s thicker and a slightly different shade than before. Though you like it, you’re afraid to trust it, because somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re afraid it will leave you again. Even as you watch your body heal and the medication work its magic, and after you’re no longer a rack of bones… even then, rarely do you feel beautiful.
Today in that coffee shop, I felt beautiful. I felt that way because this large, scarred, tattooed and pierced biker looked at me in a way that made me feel like my skin was on fire. I felt beautiful because he made me feel that way.
That’s why I am determined to find a way to sneak out again and return to the coffee shop. That’s the real reason I will risk the wrath of Sister Margaret, because today, a man who was unique and gorgeous in his own right made me feel beautiful.
As I board the bus to go back to school, I do the one thing that might even make Sister Margaret proud of me: I pray. I pray that the biker is there tomorrow and I’m not just being naïve.
Three days. Three days straight I’ve thrown caution to the wind and had breakfast with the man known only to me as Skull.
I don’t know much about him other than he is sexy as hell, dangerous, sweet, scary, and the first man I’ve ever met who makes me want… more. Which is crazy, because he’s the last man in the world who should get that reaction from me. He’s a biker. Not only is he a biker—if that patch on the cut he wears is to be believed—but he is the president of the Devil’s Blaze MC. I should be running away from a man like this, not sneaking off to have breakfast with him.
If Matthew or Colin knew I was even in Raven Hills, there would be hell to pay. If they knew I was having breakfast with the president of Devil’s Blaze…? Skull or I would be dead, maybe even both of us. There would be no in-between.
But even knowing what could happen, I still got Ryan to help me break out of school for the third day straight. I’m still sitting beside the smoothest, filthiest-talking man I’ve ever met—and loving every minute of it. He makes me laugh. He gives me a taste of… life. For so long, I’ve just gone through the motions, never knowing what real life was like. I’ve been, in some ways, afraid to experience it or test the strict boundaries that my family has on me. I know it’s foolish, but I want to savor these stolen moments because I know they can’t last. They just can’t.
“You’re looking sexy as usual,” Skull whispers into my ear. He doesn’t bother sitting across from me now. He’s right beside me and he has my hand in his, resting them on his lap. His large inked hand swallows my much smaller pale one, and the contrast is beautiful. He’s so much bigger than me and he’s covered in ink. I see it everywhere on him, and all of it is dark and foreboding—but at the same time captivating. I want to trace every mark and learn why he chose it. His voice rakes across my skin and sends shivers of awareness through my body.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I tell him honestly.
“You should be in my bed,” he growls, nibbling down my neck.
It’s ten a.m., the café is pretty empty, and yet still there are eyes on us. That should bother me. It should at the very least worry me, but it doesn’t, and that terrifies me. I could lose myself in his seduction.
“We’ve only known each other four days. I don’t see that happening. Besides, I don’t even know your name.”
“Nombre? Is this what stops you, lovely Beth? My name is Andre. Now, let’s get out of here.” He growls.
Andre? Okay, that wasn’t a name I expected, so I laugh. He stops nibbling on my neck, which makes me sad, but it’s for the best. Even though he brings out inner-whore tendencies in me, I can’t sleep with him. I won’t.
“You find my name funny, Beth?”
“I’m sorry, I just do not see you as an Andre. It doesn’t fit,” I tell him, choosing to be honest. Skull may have a sweet side when talking, but he’s also gritty and dirty and… Andre just doesn’t quite give that impression.
“Does this mean you will not call me Andre?” He asks, but there’s a semi-smile on his face.
“Nope. Sorry, it just doesn’t fit. I’ll stick to Skull.”
“I like the idea of you sticking to me. A coincidence, si?”
I shake my head at him. “You’re horrible. Stop already. I told you, I’m not falling into your bed.”
“It does not have to be a bed. We could use a wall, a table, shower… or perhaps you’d enjoy a hot tub? That can be arranged, no bed required.”
“You should get an A in effort.”
“You have no idea. Wait until I show you what else I deserve A’s in.”
I shake my head no. “Do you ever talk about anything other than sex?” I ask, exasperated.
“Of course, though it’s not as fun. What would you like to talk about?”
I study his dark face. A few small scars are imbedded in the hardened features, and there’s a piercing on his lip with tattoos all the way up to the top of his neck. He’s got one of those things in his ear that admittedly I hate, but somehow he pulls it off. Perhaps all the hotness that is him drowns that part out? Who knows? All I know is he makes me weak in the knees.
“What’s your favorite color?” I ask.
He leans back and studies me. “Out of all the questions you could ask, the one that comes to mind is what my favorite color is?”
I shrug. It wasn’t, but it seemed the safest to go with.
“Black,” he answers.
“Black isn’t a color.”
“What color is that dress you’re wearing?”
I frown at him. “Okay, well, black is a kind of a color. It absorbs light. It’s like the absence of color.”
“You make my brain hurt. But I do find myself wishing that the dress you are wearing is absent, so I’ll agree with you on that.”
I sigh heavily, but it’s more to stop the giggle that bubbles up at his hound dog expression. “Your turn,” I tell him, glad he’s giving me a little room to breathe.
“Are you wet?”
I was taking a sip of my coffee, but at his words I stop mid-drink and nearly choke. “I said no sex talk!”
He winks at me and leans back in the chair. “Where are you from?”
My heart speeds up, but I breathe evenly and relax. There’s nothing he can find out if I do this right.
“Montana.”
“That fits,” he answers cryptically. “How did you end up in Georgia?”
“That’s two questions. It’s supposed to be my turn.”
“I’ll owe you one.”
“My mother remarried.”
“You don’t sound happy about it. Who’s your stepdad?”
“Ah, ah, ah. It’s my turn. Umm… What made you decide to join a motorcycle gang?”
“Club, not gang.” He grumbles. I can tell the question irritates him.
“Club,” I amend, waiting.
“That is a question for another time,” he says, getting up and reaching out his hand to me.
“Time to go?” I ask stupidly, because I don’t really want him to leave yet. I enjoy our time together. In fact, spending the mornings with Skull has become the highlight of my day.
“I’m afraid so, querida. I have a meeting I can’t reschedule.”
I get
up and let him lead me outside. He always holds me close and puts his hand on my lower back. I like the feeling. It feels as if he has to have me near. I don’t think I’ve ever had that.
“Thank you for breakfast. I’ve really enjoyed talking with you this week,” I tell him lamely as we come to a stop outside the café. Then he does something that I’ve been admittedly wanting from the first time he spoke to me. His hand slides around the side of my neck and he pulls me to him. The texture of his skin is rough, and a shiver runs through me at the way he grabs and demands I follow his lead. At the same time he pulls me into him, his thumb applies pressure under my chin, so I raise my lips towards him. I don’t really need the encouragement. I want his kiss.
At first, his lips against mine scare me. His taste is intense and I want to drink from it. I may never want to stop. But the cold metal of the hoop in his lip touches me and it feels… strange. Does it hurt him? How do I kiss him?
“Run your tongue over it and tug gently,” he coaches, reading my mind, and I do as he instructed. It feels different, but erotic… especially when he groans and shifts my head so he can delve into my mouth. I guess he likes my fumbling. That’s the last sane thought I have before I get completely lost in his kiss and the way his tongue seeks out every inch of my mouth.
When we break away, I say the only word I can think of at the moment: “Wow.”
He lets out a snort of laughter, and his fingers wrap into the hair at the back of my neck. The pressure is enough to cause a small sting of pain. He rests his forehead against mine. I’m not sure how long we stay like that, but I like it. Eventually, he pulls away and his dark eyes look dangerous, intense. They are predatory.
“I think my knees are weak,” I tell him before I can stop myself.
“Come with me, Beth. You can wait for me at the club, then I will most definitely fuck you until your knees are weak. You won’t be able to stand for days,” he promises, and I’m completely positive he could make good on that promise.
But I need to go back to reality. “You keep bringing up sex. I feel it only fair to tell you, I’ve taken a vow of chastity,” I tell him, avoiding eye contact.
“Chastity? Mujer loca! What the fuck for?”
“My life is complicated. This is a way to simplify it.”
“So, you are saving yourself for marriage?” he asks incredulously. It annoys me because, although it’s not a popular decision in the biker world, it is not completely unheard of in the rest of the world.
“Not exactly. I just don’t need anything or anyone making my life more difficult right now.”
“I’ll change your mind,” he says, and he sounds so cocky and sure of himself that it annoys me further.
“That’s not possible,” I huff, pulling away from him. I turn around, intent on getting away. I’m not even sure why I’m upset. Part of it is because he’s not taking me seriously. The other part, and it is considerably larger, is the fact that I kind of want him to talk me out of it, and that cannot happen, will not happen.
He slaps me on the ass. It stuns me and I turn around to look at him.
“Be at breakfast tomorrow, Beth. Do not make me come find you.”
I don’t answer because there’s not much to say. I want to tell him I won’t be there, but we both know I’d be lying. I’ll be there because I can’t stop myself. I can’t stay away from Skull, and that’s bad—for both of us.
“There’s no way you can sneak out again today,” says Michelle, one of my friends from school. “The sisters are already upset that you’ve missed classes two days straight. They’re not buying that you’re that sick. Mother Margaret already brought up that you were missing Sunday, too. Three days, Beth! If Tiffany hadn’t been covered up in your bed pretending to be you at curfew check, you’d already be screwed!”
“I know, I know… but I just need one more day. Then, I’ll make an excuse to Skull on why I can’t be there for a few days. Please? I just need your help to make it happen today.”
“I can’t believe you’re dating a guy named Skull,” she says. “When you decide to taste the wild side, you go all out, woman.”
“Yeah, I know. Will you do this for me, Michelle? Please?”
“Okay, but if you get caught, you are on your own. I’m not having nuns up my ass because you’re looking to get dick in yours.”
“That is not happening. You’re just nasty,” I tell her, though the thought of Skull in that moment makes my stomach flutter nervously—and not entirely because I’m turned off.
She laughs and shakes her head. “You’ll see. I’ve heard about those Bikers in Raven. You’re in for a wild freaking ride.”
I bite my tongue to keep from asking what she’s heard. I can’t help myself. I want to know everything about Skull and his friends. The days we’ve met, he’s talked about them, and I can tell he really cares about them. They’re all close. What would it be like to have people care about you like that? Like… a real family?
“I’ve got to run. Ryan’s watching the door so I can sneak out. Thanks, Michelle. I owe you!” I call over my shoulder, intent on making it before my chance is gone. I run down the stairs to the basement. Once there, I use my cellphone as a flashlight and make it to the small door that opens to the backyard on the outside. Once through, I turn around to make sure it’s locked with the key Ryan gave me. I’m unprepared for the large hand that claps down on my shoulder. I scream before I can stop myself. He claps a hand over my mouth, muffling my cry and jerking me around hard. My eyes grow large as I look up into the eyes of Gerald, my stepbrothers’ chauffeur and lead henchman. This is not good. And, from the look on Gerald’s face, it may be much worse than I fear.
He doesn’t talk. His scarred hand wraps around my wrist and he drags me along behind him. We make it to the limo and he all but throws me in the back of it. As the car door slams, disappointment and fear settle in my stomach.
Some people wait their whole lives to ride in a limo. Some people would kill to have the kind of life I could have, but I don’t want it. I never have. I hate everything about being a member of the Donahue family. I might be young and even naïve, but everyone knows who the Donahues are and how they’ve made their fortune. If people find out that I’m a member of the family, reactions invariably go from shock to fear, and for the extremely stupid: interest.
The ride back to the house Colin and Matthew live in feels like it lasts forever. In reality, it’s a mere forty-minute drive. Still, with each minute that passes, my fear amplifies. I don’t know what this is about, but the fact that Gerald was there when I snuck out means bad things.
Shit! I should have been more careful.
When the car comes to a stop, I wait. The Donahue estate is huge. Its large stone pillars and brick façade look cold and regal. It reminds me of a large funeral home—and just as cold. Gerald opens the door and pulls me out. He didn’t need to, I was getting out; I know better than to refuse my stepbrothers. Gerald doesn’t care, but then again, I’ve seen him inflict pain on command. He enjoys it. Even now, his hand is making a horrible bruise on my wrist. I ignore the stinging pain and just follow. There’s not much else I can do.
We make it to Colin’s office and Gerald shoves me into a chair. Part of me is relieved it’s Colin’s office. Between him and Matthew, Colin is the one who’s been the softest with me. I suspect that’s because he wants more from me than he should—especially since I’m his sister by marriage.
“Beth.”
Colin’s dark voice rings loud in the room. I jerk my head to the patio door to my left. I didn’t realize it was open and Colin was there. I swallow because suddenly I’m having trouble finding my voice.
“Col…” I say, using the nickname I gave him when I first came to live with Edmund and my mother. I was foolishly excited to be part of a family and wanted to have big brothers. I soon learned that being a part of the Donahue family wasn’t anything like I envisioned. Colin, however, liked the name I tagged him with. He insists I use
it now—just me. He enjoys it. I hate it, but I don’t dare disappoint him. I’ve also seen what happens when people do that.
“Did you really think my protection would be so lapse that I wouldn’t find out what you’ve been up to?”
I take a breath, trying to figure out the best way to respond.
“Don’t bother denying things, Beth. You will only make it worse for yourself. Gerald has been following you to the café the last few days. I know you have been meeting that biker.”
My stomach churns at both the discovery that Colin knows and at the way he says the word “biker”. You can hear the disgust in his voice, as if Skull is so far beneath him. In Colin’s eyes, he probably is. He makes me sick with his holier-than-thou attitude. Does he think I don’t know what the family does to secure their place and fortune? I don’t know anything about the biker world, but I know that Skull is heads and shoulders above Colin in being a real man. I’ve seen it in the way he treats me and in the way he talks about his club and the men he considers his brothers. Colin and Matthew have never cared for anyone but themselves.
“He’s just a friend,” I tell him, deciding to go with the truth.
“Do not lie to me, Beth.”
“I’m not.”
“Do you always kiss your friends like you are dying for them to fuck you?”
I flinch in reaction to his question. Colin doesn’t talk to me like that. In fact, I can’t ever remember him using coarse words at all around me. The fact that they are laced in anger scares me. The very last thing I need is to have Colin displeased with me. Most people never survive that.
“It was just a kiss, Colin. I’m almost twenty now,” I tell him, doing my best to sound defensive and not scared or guilty. I’m not sure I achieve my goal.
He grabs my hair, wrapping it around his fist and pulling it tight. Tears sting my eyes and he forces my face up to look at him.
“Have you given him your body, Beth?”
My heart pounds against my chest. Cold, clammy beads of sweat pop out of my skin. I feel the tears leak down the side of my fear-stricken face.