FRICTION
Copyright © 2016 by Sapphire Knight
Cover Design by Sara Eirew Photography
Editing by Mitzi Carroll
Formatting by Max Effect
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Oath Keepers MC Series
Secrets
Exposed
Relinquish
Forsaken Control
Friction
Princess
Sweet Surrender
Russkaya Mafiya Series
Secrets
Corrupted
Unwanted Sacrifices
WARNING
This novel includes graphic language and adult situations. It may be offensive to some readers and includes situations that may be hotspots for certain individuals. This book is intended for adults 18 and older. This work is fictional. The story is meant to entertain the reader and may not always be completely accurate. Any reproduction of these works without Author Sapphire Knight’s written consent is pirating and will be punished to the fullest extent.
Dedicated to my readers…
You’ve asked for more, letting me live my dream.
I can never thank you enough for believing in me.
You mean so much!
FREQUENTLY USED TERMS
Bet- yes/okay/got it
Church- MC sit down to discuss business
Compound- MC clubhouse/living area/office
Ol’ Lady- Significant other to MC member
PLEASE NOTE
I strongly recommend reading Forsaken Control prior to Friction.
“It’s been an ugly day,” she said.
“Tell me something beautiful?”
And he said her name.
-Unknown
Blood. I see dark, fucking red liquid everywhere. Am I losing my mind? Who could do something so horrific to these angelic creatures? Maybe I should cry for help?
Ha! What fucking help? It’s done. It’s fucking over—I’m too late. Just like I was too late for her birth, I’m too fucking late for her death.
What have I done to deserve such madness? Maybe I should kill myself? I should rip the fucking heart right out of my goddamn chest, because whatever’s in there beats no more.
They were my everything: my life, my soul, my death. Now I’m faced with a pain so deep no knife could ever touch.
Bending down, I gently hold my sweet baby girls limp, cold hand. Her heart beats no more, so why should mine? I swallow down my puke and gently cut the masking tape securing the plastic bag and pillow over her head. My face is wet—maybe tears. I have to get this bag off; God deserves to have to look at the innocent face that was stolen from me. He needs to see what’s been done. How is there a God, when there’s blood coming from between her legs? How is there a great power when she breathes no more?
The plastic falls away and her honey blonde curls stained with blood remind me of her momma. I’ll never again see her eyes—blue as a beautiful sky—again. I’ll never hear the soft pitter-patter of her feet running.
Carefully placing her hand beside her, I climb to my feet, and my eyes find Marissa’s body a few feet away.
A cord’s securely wrapped around her neck—over and fucking over. Her once flawless, sun-kissed skin is ruined. Her clothes were torn to shreds, blood everywhere. She fought whoever did this. She fucking fought them until her fingers bled.
Dropping to my knees, I bring her into my arms and I scream. My fucking life is right in front of me—gone. No fucking more. I was robbed. Everything I love taken in a blink of an eye, and I wasn’t here to save them.
I’m never fucking here.
Fuck the Army, keeping me from my family. I missed fucking everything. More tears fall, and all I can do is scream until my voice is taken too.
It’s done. I can’t possibly live without my heart and soul. Tenderly, my shaky lips meet Marissa’s cold skin, and I carefully place her back on the floor.
My feet carry me back to my Camaro. I’m in a daze as I slam the car door and rev the engine over and over. I can’t live. What’s done is done, and I will be with them no matter what.
Letting loose the clutch, the pretty girl roars to life, taking me away from what once was my home, away from the blood. Higher and higher the speedometer climbs as I accelerate faster. I start to round the bend and like it was meant to be, a tree waiting straight ahead.
Pounding the gas pedal to the floor, the car flies over the asphalt, and as the car slams into the massive trunk, all I can think is, I will see you soon.
***
Time.
You’re either wasting it or chasing it, but when it comes right down to it, you never have enough of it. I wish I could turn it back; I’d go to the day before my life went to fucking shit.
I’d go to the last time I kissed my wife and told her how fucking sexy she was, to when I spun my baby girl around and heard her giggle. Those were the good old days.
You stressed out? Got shit you think is bad? Your wife and kid wasn’t viciously raped and murdered. You didn’t come home to find your entire world brutalized and over. Fuck your problems; you don’t know shit about stress!
My story isn’t for the weak.
One small crack does not mean that you are broken,
it means that you were put to the test and you didn’t fall apart.
-Linda Poindexter
THEN
My old Cutlass flies down the highway, windows down with ‘Blue Da Ba Dee’ by Eiffel 65 blaring loudly on the blown speakers. I swear, every time I hit a bump the car bounces so much I feel like this kid could pop out early.
The route from Cali to Texas is so dry and surrounded by a whole lotta nothing. I’ve called my brother a few times but he’s sent me straight to voicemail. Jerk face.
I’m thinking he may be on a run for his club that he failed to tell me about. He promised that he’d call when he goes on the road like that, because I tend to worry about him.
Well it’s too late now; I’ve packed what belongings would fit into my car and loaded the rest into a small storage unit. I hate leaving Mom and Dad’s house there, but I have no other choice; the doctor I work for just informed me I’m high risk and should stay home. Since my brother obviously isn’t coming to me, it’s only fitting that I go to him.
I put the house up for sale, which I know will blow Silas—that’s my brother’s name—away. He wanted me to do it years ago, but a stubborn part inside me told me to hold out longer. I know my parents are druggies, but I’d secretly hoped that eventually the people who created me would get better and come around.
It’s time I do what’s right for me. I have a baby to think about and I have no clue how to be any type of parent. The closest thing I had growing up was Silas; I guess that’s why I automatically thought of him when the doctor told me to stay home. One benefit of working at the doctor’s office is I get maternity pay. My boss wasn’t keen on having to start paying it to me early, but he’s a good man.
Silas has bee
n bugging me about coming to Texas ever since he left Cali, so I’m hoping he has an apartment or house—a place for me to sleep anyhow. He’s talked about staying at his motorcycle club, but surely he doesn’t live there.
I’ve met his club brother Cain before. He’s a nice guy, pretty hot, but a total player from what I got from him. My brother’s always been pretty decent about taking care of me and keeping the guys away. He’s going to flip his shit when he finds out that I’m pregnant with no man in tow.
Ghost. The name stands out in the back of my mind and I cringe.
Besides my brother and his motorcycle club, I’ve been around one other group of bikers. Well, not group, I only know Ghost and his club brother, Blaze. Ghost’s the Enforcer and Blaze is the Vice President, whatever that means. But they’re in the California chapter of the Iron Fists and my brother is in the Oath Keepers MC in Texas. They’re not friends. When I asked Ghost, he laughed at me like I was an idiot. How was I supposed to know? My brother doesn’t tell me his stuff.
Aghh!
That was a sharp kick to the ribs! This kid’s probably going to be a soccer player at this rate. I always get kicked double time when I’m hungry. On I-10 though, and there aren’t many options for food stops.
I’m amazed this old clunker has even made the trip so far. It’s fine to go from work to home but not driving through California, Arizona, New Mexico, and then half of Texas. I’ve been talking and coaxing her along the entire trip, because hitchhiking while pregnant would suck balls.
San Antonio finally nears and I gladly stop. I have the bladder the size of a pea it seems, and I’ve stopped numerous times along the way, which is probably the real reason why the car hasn’t overheated yet. Bad enough the AC doesn’t work; I’m going to show up at the clubhouse looking like a hot mess.
Once I eat a large strawberry sundae and a kid’s bacon cheeseburger from Dairy Queen, I hit the road again. Only a few more hours to go, because according to Silas’ return address, he’s kind of close to Austin.
I drive for what feels like forever, my eyes growing heavy from exhaustion. I even go too far, having to ask for directions and backtrack. There wasn’t a street sign on the side of the old highway or anything, just a tiny road right off the highway to turn on to reach the compound. Pretty discreet, I’m guessing they like to not be bothered.
My suspicions are confirmed when I’m greeted by a closed gate and a young biker out front guarding it. His cut has PROSPECT in bold letters across the breast area, otherwise fairly plain. My brother’s cut is different; it has a ton of patches all over it.
He leans into my window, getting close, taking in my swollen stomach with his beady dark eyes, “You someone’s Old Lady?”
“No, I’m here for 2 Piece.”
“Shit.” He shakes his head like he can’t believe I’d be asking for him or something.
I know my brother’s not a saint. Women have always stared at him and given him their numbers, but he would never get a random girl pregnant and not let anyone know. He’s not like Ghost.
Once Ghost found out I was pregnant, he slapped me around a few times, yelling at me that it wasn’t his kid, and then took off. I’ve never been hit by a man before, and I don’t ever want that feeling of fear again. I was terrified that he hurt the baby, but my doctor reassured me I was okay, and then suggested I get a restraining order.
I know that he was doing his job, but that never happened. If Ghost tried to hit me again, I’d take a bat to him just like Silas taught me. I haven’t seen him around or been able to find him anywhere though; he simply became a ghost—hence the name.
Asshole.
“Head on in and park on the opposite side of the bikes. Go to the main door; don’t be nosin’ around anywhere else.”
Shooting him a glare, I grumble, “All right then.”
He nods and pushes the gate open so I can drive through. Jerk. Silas said the guys were all friendly down here, but their prospect dude clearly has a stick up his ass. Maybe he’s hungover; that’d explain it.
The club’s way bigger than I was expecting. I thought it’d be this little bar with a few rooms in the back or something, not literally a huge brick compound with a dozen or so bikes out front. It’s so much more intimidating now that I’m actually here.
So how does this work? Do I knock on the door or is this like a business where I just walk in to order something? I wish my brother would’ve just answered his phone so he could have met me somewhere. Surely the front gate guy would let them know I’m here.
Flipping down the ancient gray visor, I peer into the mirror. Not much I can do to fix myself up. With hours and hours stuck in a tiny space with hot air blowing on you, there’s not a lot that can help with that besides a shower and some sleep.
Still, I have to do something. A quick swipe of Dove deodorant, a spritz of Peony body spray and running a brush through my long blonde hair brings me back to looking halfway like myself. Silas is going to be too busy staring at my belly to notice I’m exhausted and feel like crap anyhow.
Making my way up the few concrete steps, I decide it’s best to start by knocking instead of barging in, just in case it’s not a businesslike atmosphere. It’s ten in the morning; hopefully they aren’t partying already. Silas says he always has fun being with the club, so there’s no telling.
Here goes nothing! Raising my hand, I bring it to the thick door and knock a few times. I get no kind of response so I give it a good kick; there’s got to be someone out and about in there if all these bikes are any indication. Probably just a bunch of lazy old men.
After a few moments of me silently pondering what to do, the door opens slowly, and a man sporting long blond hair and a decent-sized beard pops out. He’s tattooed all over like my brother; probably even more so, by the looks of it. I’d guess him to be the same size as Silas, too, maybe a little thinner.
“What?” He barks and makes me jump.
“I’m here for Silas.”
“Who?” The toothpick in his mouth moves along with his lips. His sea green gaze scans over me, landing on my stomach.
“2- Pie-ce,” I enunciate slowly.
“Don’t think so, Sunshine; 2’s already got some company.”
My eyebrow instantly raises. “Oh really? Tell him to get his ass out here and talk to Sadie.”
He chuckles, surprised at my outburst. “Been a whole minute since a bitch spoke to me like that.”
“Bitch, huh? Go get my brother so he can beat your ass for calling me a bitch.”
“Hold up now sweetheart; you mean 2’s your brother, not your baby daddy?” He nods to my stomach, and I stand up straighter, pushing the round basketball out even more.
“Yes! Do you all think he’d get someone knocked up and not say anything? He’s not like that.”
He shakes his head, his gaze meeting mine finally. “Naw, I know he wouldn’t. I’ll let you in, but like I said, he’s got company.”
The door opens farther and I get a good glimpse of his faded jeans, white T-shirt and leather cut. The word Twist is stitched on one side and on the other side ‘Unholy One.’ Jesus, I wonder what that means exactly; it’s bad enough that the man’s hotter than sin. I’ll admit, pretty darn scary walking into a biker bar full of burly, mean-looking men.
I see my brother’s friend, Cain. It must be his girlfriend next to him or something, because she glares at me like I’m her next victim. She definitely fits in around here; she’s tall and gorgeous like an Amazon woman or something. I’m not staring at Cain to be rude, just wondering if he recognizes me from when he visited Cali with Silas.
“Brother?” A massive tattooed giant stands with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks like the meanest of all and he’s got to be like six and a half feet tall. Silas where are you, damn it? The giant stares at Twist, almost as if I don’t exist, waiting for him to let him know what’s going on.
“Relax, Ares, its 2’s little sister.”
“Oh, Sadie?” His expr
ession lightens as he looks me over.
“Yep, the one and only.” I retort and his lips twitch like he wants to smile, but holds himself back. Amazing how different he is when he finds out I’m a family member. I feel bad for anyone he doesn’t like.
“Come on, Sunshine; let’s go see if your brother’s awake.” Twist rests his hand on the small of my back and steers me down a long dark hallway, playing with the toothpick in his mouth. “Did he…ah…know you was comin’?”
“No.” I huff. “I tried to call but haven’t gotten ahold of him, so I figured it would be better to come here.”
He nods like he already knows Silas has been ignoring me. “Sorry ‘bout that; the club keeps him busy. Did you fly down? I saw that old car out there, not like the one’s I’d imagine you to rent.”
“No, I drove. I came from Cali.”
He glances down at me and whistles, his eyebrows shooting up.
“I know it was far. I’ll hear all about it from my brother. I just want to shower and sleep.”
He stops in front of a door and taps lightly. A pretty girl, slightly taller than myself answers, introducing herself as Avery and lets me know she’ll tell 2 I’m here as soon as he wakes up.
“I can’t believe she’s not going to wake him up now.” Grumbling, I follow Twist.
“Come on darlin’, you hungry or thirsty?”
“I’m pregnant, that should be my middle name or something at this point.”
“Right.” His lips hike up in a grin as he leads me to another room.
Opening the door, I’m met with a very tidy space. The bed could be made to military specifications by how tightly it’s tucked into the wooden frame and there isn’t a sign of dust anywhere. I think I’ve just entered wonderland in the form of a clean man cave. There’s a dresser against the far wall, but it’s the same—clean and free of items on the top.
“Is this your room?”
“Yeah, you said you wanted to shower and take a nap; 2’s room is full, so…”
“Thank you. A shower would be amazing.”
Friction (Oath Keepers MC Book 5) Page 1