The Other Half of Me: (Dragon Skulls MC)

by Rose Briner

  I don’t know what’s happening to me when it comes to this girl, but in one day she’s managed to make me feel something I haven’t felt since my mother died. The man in me is coming out, and I will protect this girl even if I die trying.

  I kiss her gingerly on the head as I lie down and tuck her into me and shut my eyes for the first time feeling that I finally belong right where I’m at. I haven’t felt this way since my parents were murdered.

  Finally.

  Chapter Nine

  Natalie

  I just had the strangest dream. I dreamed that Thunder came in here and I told him all about my problems, and he accepted me just the way I am. Not quite completely the way I might have hoped, but I’ll take him protecting me any day of the week over continuing to live in hell with Jimbo.

  I’ve never had that. Not once. Now in less than two days, I have four men that protect me. Or at least that’s what my foggy mind has somehow convinced me has happened. This stupid medicine Satch gave me wants me to sleep for days on end, and I just took it five minutes ago.

  I stretch my arms above my head and wince when my ribs hurt and moan loudly. That must have been out loud because whoever is in here with me right now, lets out a groan of their own. I open my right eye and look around and rub my left one lightly, and finally, it starts to open. My vision is a little blurry as I fight to focus in the darkness around me. There’s a weak glow coming from next to me, but that’s the only light in this room.

  I move again and try to turn to my right, and my hand lands clearly on the chest of the biker sleeping next to me.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  I squeeze my eyes shut as hard as I can and reopen them, thinking I must still be dreaming. He’s still there, and he’s clearly out of it right now. I try hard to ignore the hunk of a man lying next to me, but I’ve been dreaming about him on an endless loop for hours now and those blue eyes of his when he looked at what happened to me and told me no one would ever hurt me again, makes me melt inside. I feel like I’m an ice cream cone that’s going to melt into a pile on the floor in three-point-five seconds. God, I am so screwed right now.

  I reach one shaking hand out and lightly touch his arm, and the warmth beneath my hand sends a shiver down my body. I fight the urge to push him flat against the bed, mount him, and fuck him right then and there.

  He’s probably married; I remind myself. Aren’t all these hot bikers married or taken anyways? I try to look at his hands to see if he’s wearing a ring, but of course, my luck, his left hand isn’t showing.

  I let out a dreamy sigh as I force myself to slowly stand from the bed and go off in search of my bag, which is still in the same spot I left it in and drag it behind me into the bathroom. I ignored it when I was next to that wonderful smelling man, but now that I’m away from him, I smell like I’m standing on death’s doorstep, and one more step forward and I’m going to fall into the landfill beneath me. I haven’t showered in probably days. I had showered before the guys took me, but who knows how many days I’ve been out of it because of that medication and I can’t remember the last time I smelled this bad.

  I quickly shut the bathroom door behind me and bite my lip as I stare down at the lock, contemplating locking it. But what happens if I slip and fall in the tub? How are they going to save me? An image of them dropkicking the door crosses my mind. Definitely still high on medication. I laugh at the image that fills my mind.

  I pull off my shirt and wince when it sticks to my sweaty body and all the bandages I’m still wearing. Well, if you could even consider them still attached to my body, most of them are just hanging off me now. How long did these guys let me sleep?

  It takes me a good half hour to remove all the bandages and my clothing, and when I turn to look at my hair in the mirror for the first time, I cringe. I look horrible right now. I look like one of the hobos you see lying on the street corner begging for money.

  I force myself to look away from the mirror and turn the shower on. I search around in my bag for my shampoo, and while that is in there, you know what is missing? Everything but my undergarments. Damn bikers probably did this shit on purpose; they probably put all my shit in the drawers and then left that in there so when I came in here, they knew I’d be forced to walk out there half naked to get my shit. Lucky the only biker in here is currently snoring on the bed. I think about putting my clothes back on but cringe at the thought of putting those things back on my body. I eye the garbage can and toss those clothes in there before I think about wearing them again.

  I curse silently and step into the shower. I steady myself when the water hits my body for the first time. It hurts badly as the water hits all my open wounds. I probably should’ve asked Drag before I got in here. I might infect everything, and then I’ll have to go to the hospital in Port Angeles. How about no thank you.

  I slowly inch closer to the water, and relief fills me as the pain slowly subsides, and the water hits my skin. I haven’t felt anything this good in a long time. When I’m at home, my showers are usually short, and there’s a limited supply of hot water available for me to use. I make quick work of my hair and get out so I can fix the rats nest on top of my head.

  I eye the blow dryer as I dry off my body. I muffle my shout when I rub the towel too aggressively against my skin. The last thing I need is Thunder to come in here and see me like this. What the hell was I thinking to allow that man to see what I look like right now? I wouldn’t want that man to see me on a good day when I don’t have all these wounds on my body. I’m nowhere near what a man like that is used to seeing. I bet he has women lined up around the block waiting to ride his cock.

  “Quit daydreaming about his damn cock, you dumbass,” I say to myself in the mirror.

  That seems to snap me out of it as I pull on my lace, purple matching undergarment set. That was I think the only good thing about Jimbo Jones, he loved fancy lingerie, and I always had the best stuff at my disposal. I’m a little sad thinking about all the things I had to leave behind when I left.

  “No use crying over spilled milk, right?” I whisper to myself as I dry and fix my hair into a long braid flowing down my back. Usually, I’d do something creative with my hair, but my arms hurt trying to twist my hair into just that one braid. Suddenly my entire body is exhausted, and all I want to do is go back to snuggle with the biker.

  I put my items back into my backpack and cut the light in the bathroom before slowly opening the door, so the creak doesn’t wake him. He’s not snoring anymore, but he hasn’t moved from his spot, so I’m assuming he’s still asleep. I’m not going to stand here for another half hour and wonder if he’s sleeping. By that time, he’ll see me in all my half-naked glory.

  I scratch the top of my head as I look at the drawers. Maybe these ones? I try them all and of course it turns out to be the last drawer I try. I look down at my limited supply sadly as I realize these are all the clothes I have to my name right now.

  I pull out a tank top that’s probably two sizes too small for my body and a pair of booty shorts. No use in wearing jeans and a sweater in here, the heater is on full blast, and my body is suddenly on fire again. Probably has something to do with the biker sleeping mere feet away from me. Instead of going directly to my bed and sitting on it like I should, my legs pull me over to his cut that’s draped over the chair with such care. The skull with the dragon and skull and red lettering is calling out to me like a beacon of light. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful in my life and I realize this is the first time I’ve ever touched one before like this. The leather feels smooth under my fingers as I run my hands across the logo and down to the Washington along the bottom. I couldn’t do this when Thunder was wearing it, so I take my chance now to go over every inch slowly.

  “So beautiful,” I whisper to myself as I allow my hand to drop back down to my side.

  I turn suddenly and fight the urge to look over at Thunder who has moved slightly, and his shirt is now pressed against his tight a
bs, and his shorts reveal muscular calves from riding on his Harley. I bet he gets other exercise as well. Probably boxing or running, with arms like those, I bet he spends hours at the gym. I can’t make out his tattoos in the little light in the room, but looking over at his has me reexamining mine for the first time, to see if Jimbo tried to cut the design off my arm. I smile timidly when I realize my tattoo still looks just as beautiful as it did the day I got it.

  I look down on the dresser and see Thunder’s phone lying there, and for the first time, I realize my phone is missing. They probably took it from me so Jimbo can’t track me. At least I hope they did. If not; he’s probably on his way to find me right now.

  My head suddenly feels heavy as I think about the possibility of Jimbo finding me. I know he’s not dead, I probably should have put extra pills in his juice so he’d never come looking for me ever again, but I didn’t do it. Stupid girl. I wish I could go back in time and do it.

  I walk past Thunder and over to the other bed. I bend forward and begin to arrange my pillows and pull back the covers on a bed that hasn’t been slept in since we got here. I bet Thunder had me in his bed with him the entire time. Was he that concerned I was going to make a run for it? I’m not that dumb; I wouldn’t even begin to know where to go and what to do with myself if I ran away from them.

  A groan behind me has me stopping dead in my tracks and I hold my breath as the small creak of the bed behind me indicates that Thunder is now sitting up behind me.

  I feel his hands reach forward for my waist and he wraps his strong, warm arms around me as he drags me back to the bed, so I’m sitting on his lap.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Nat?” he asks as he plays with the braid in the middle of my back. I fight hard against the shiver that runs through my entire body. He tugs on it lightly, and my entire body ignites.

  I wait to see what he’ll do next, but when he pulls me down in front of him and snuggles in behind me so he can pull me closer to him, I realize he has no intention of doing anything more to me. I want to cry; I’m not entirely sure why, but I want to cry right now.

  Chapter Ten

  Parker

  Natalie has been asleep for almost a week now. Drag and everyone else keeps telling me not worry about the Allison and Brandon situation, but how can I not worry about that with only two weeks to go until the hearing where I will request full custody from the state?

  My concerns fall to the wayside when I look down at the beautiful little angel sleeping in front of me. She’s the most beautifully broken woman I’ve ever known, and I’ve known plenty of troubled women in my time. There’s something different about this girl, and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.

  She seems to keep my darkness at bay; I feel safer around her like she could make all these feelings inside of me go away. Feelings of death and the violence that wants to bubble to the surface. I’d never hurt Natalie, but Jimbo is free game as far as I am concerned.

  Don’t land yourself back in prison you idiot.

  Prison. A place I never want to return to. I’d rather die than spend another five years in there again. I don’t regret the decision I made that landed me there, but the darkness that has followed me since then, I would do almost anything to get rid of. Very few people know this side of me, I want to keep it that way. If Natalie were to find out how bad I am, she’d never speak to me again.

  When I’m with her, I can sleep. I haven’t been able to sleep in years, and one week with this girl and I’ve slept better than I have in the last year. I feel her stir in front of me for the first time in almost three days, so I pretend to go back to sleep so I can see what she does.

  I’ve become a good pretender. When you are the kind of guy I am; you learn quickly how to play dead or pretend to be asleep. We’ve had plenty of robbers over the years at the clubhouse, and so I pretend to sleep all the time. Also, has helped when that bitch Daisy wants to ride my dick. Speaking of Daisy, I’m going to need to change my number. She won’t stop blowing me up. I had to turn all notifications on my phone to silent because every time she’s called, Natalie has groaned in complaint. She needs all the rest she can get. Plus, I want nothing to do with that gold-digger.

  I pretend to shut my eyes as she stretches her arms above her head. I want to grab her when she groans in pain, and I feel a moan escape my lips when her cleavage touches my face. She quickly turns to look in my direction and notices for the first time that I’m sleeping there next to her. I expect her to go to the other bed or get up and walk away, but instead, she reaches over and lightly runs her fingers down my arm sending the most incredible chill running down my body and straight to my dick.

  Easy boy, this one might not want that.

  I hope she does because I can’t take much more of this, but I don’t want to scare her off if she’s not interested in me like that. I’d take any piece of her I can get, even if it means just being nothing more than friends.

  I almost chuckle when she gets up from the bed and grabs her backpack to go and take a shower. I unpacked her stuff days ago, only leaving her lingerie and toiletries in the bag. I didn’t think she’d appreciate my touching her undergarments, so I put everything else away for her. She doesn’t realize that she’s going to need to come out here to get clothing when she’s done in the shower.

  I try to go back to sleep when I hear the shower turn on and her long moan when the water touches that amazing body of hers. I don’t even think she realizes how hot her little body is. I’m not usually into petite women like her. I prefer fake tits, and blonde hair cause those are usually the freakiest and don’t want attachments. Not including Daisy, she seems to be a stage five clinger.

  I hear the shower shut off, followed shortly by the blow dryer, and then complete and utter silence. She tries to open the door slowly so I won’t hear, but I have hearing like a cat and hear even the slightest sound. My dick begins to harden again when she comes out and sets her bag downs and turns her back to me. She has on that fucking purple number, and her ass is perfectly round in that thong she has on. God, please give me the strength to not attack this girl right now.

  I watch as she searches for clothing before finally locating a tank top and some shorts. I hold my breath as I wait for her to come back this way. But she doesn’t do it. Instead, she turns suddenly and approaches my cut. I watch as she runs her fingers over it before she mutters how beautiful it looks and then dropping her hand back to her side and stepping away from it again.

  She comes back over, and I can feel her eyes on me as she openly checks out my body. I spend a lot of time on the open road and in the boxing ring at the rear of our yard to keep in shape. Guess it paid off. I wait for her to come back to me so I can pull her into my arms and hold her close again, but instead, she turns to her bed and starts to fix it up. No way am I going to allow that. She’s going to sleep with me in this fucking bed whether she likes it or not. I won’t take no for an answer.

  I don’t care that she hears me now as I sit quickly up in the bed and watch her. She knows I’m watching her as she completely stops moving.

  “What are you doing?” I ask her point blank. No use in formalities right now, it’s not like we haven’t already slept in the same bed together for over a week now. Drag isn’t happy about that either, but a pack of wild dogs couldn’t keep me away from her. It is my job to protect her.

  She doesn’t respond, so I reach forward and wrap my arms around her so I can pull her to me. I think about setting her down next to me, but fuck it, why not see how she reacts if I sit her on my lap? As I settle her on top of me, an image of her riding my cock like this crosses my mind, and I shake my head to clear the thought.

  I slowly reach up and touch her soft hair as she shivers against me. Good, so I’m not the only who feels this way. I tug on her braid lightly to see what she’ll do, and I can practically feel the warmth that floods through her. I almost flip her over right then and there and rip her clothes off, but I halt myself just
barely shy of doing just that. She might not like that. What if she tells Drag or the others? They might think I tried to rape Natalie or tried to take advantage of her vulnerable state.

  I sigh heavily as I settle her in front of me again on the bed and pull myself behind her. She surprises me by snuggling into me, and this time I don’t fight the moan that escapes my lips. Her breathing evens out, and I think she’s finally gone back to sleep, so I lean forward and move her braid out of the way, so I plant a kiss on her neck. Her breathing hitches, so I do it again.

  I’m shocked when she pushes her bottom further into my hard cock. I know she can feel it, there’s no point in trying to hide how hard I am for this chick right now. I’d be lying to us both if I denied how she makes me feel.

  I nuzzle my nose into her hair and take a deep whiff, “God you smell so fucking good, Natalie. Do you know that?”

  Her soft laugh warms my heart, “Don’t flatter me, Thunder. I know you say that to all the girls.”

  I think she believes that. I don’t snuggle with women; that’s not something I do. I’m a biker for crying out loud; I’m used to fucking and dumping, that’s just the way I am. I don’t have the time or luxury for anything else. Until now that is.

  “Parker,” I correct her.

  “Parker what?” she asks softly.

  “Say it,” I order her as I nuzzle my nose into her neck and kiss her lightly behind her ear.

  “Parker,” she whispers breathlessly.

  “Louder,” I order trying to keep my voice quiet and even as to not scare her.

  “Parker,” she breathes as she turns her head slightly so she can see me behind her.

  Her eyes search mine in the low light, her bright blue eyes burning into mine as she stares back at me.

  “Who is Parker?” she asks innocently as she tilts her head up to look at me.

  “That’s my real name, Parker. Parker Martinez. I don’t like it when you call me, Thunder,” I tell her softly as I stroke the top of her head as she turns fully to face me on the bed. She doesn’t need to know the reason. Thunder is my darkness; Parker is the light.