Table of Contents
Title Page
Book Description
Author’s Note
M.C. Romances
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
The End
Book Previews
JDRF Donation Thanks
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Redemption Weather
Aces High – Cedar Falls #1
Christine Michelle
Copyright © 2018 Christine M. Butler / Christine Michelle
All rights reserved.
www.moonlitdreams.org
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Any similarities to persons, organizations, or places written about within these pages is purely coincidental, as this is a work of fiction.
Kobo Version
Book Description
The Other Princess
Aces High – Charleston Book 1
When I married Walker Smithson it was the happiest day of my life. My family was there, we had a bright future ahead of us, and the world was ours for the taking.
Then the storms started coming.
First, there was the one that took my family.
Then, there was the one that took my husband.
Moving to a new town, new state, and a new life was never on my agenda until I couldn’t take the ghosts, both living and dead, that haunted my every waking moment in the town I’d been born to, grown up and always thought I’d die in after living out my happily ever after.
I’d been wrong about my life before.
Wrong took me to Cedar Falls, West Virginia and left me on the doorstep of the same motorcycle club that had failed me before.
It took me to a place where my future was waiting for me.
If only the past would let go of us so that we could be happy.
If only tragedy and storms would stop following in my wake.
If only the weather would turn, so my happy could commence.
If, for once, wrong could prove to be absolutely right.
Author’s Note
This is a special book that is going out for those of you who love the rest of the Aces High and/or S.H.E. books, because this one was never planned out with the rest.
I was in the middle of getting a couple of the others finished when I got sick. While I was sick I was in a crap mood, as sick people often are. While under the weather and in that shit mood I heard this sad song and a scene played out in my head. I dragged my fever riddled, aching body out of bed and started writing the opening scene to Redemption Weather. After the first two chapters were written I plugged in an entire outline. It took one week to write this book from start to finished first draft, which was over 80k words. So, it is a bonus publication, but a complete full-length novel. It also takes place AFTER all the planned books in the Cedar Falls part of the Aces High Series, so you’re going to get a little background information on the up and coming stories, but nothing more than you’ll get by reading the back of the book details (no major spoilers).
I hope you enjoy it, because a whole lot of heart went into this one.
xoxo
Christine Michelle
aka: Christine M. Butler
M.C. Romances
S.H.E. Series
Angel-Girl (Feb. 28, 2019)
JoJo (March 14, 2019)
Aces High – Dakotas Series
Dancing With Danger (currently available)
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (Feb. 14, 2019)
Cherries and Cream (late, 2019)
Aces High – Cedar Falls Series
Redemption Weather (currently reading)
Aces High – Charleston Series
The Other Princess (currently available)
*There are more books planned, as each series listed has 4-5 titles. If you don’t see them listed here, they will probably appear sometime in 2019 or 2020. Find out more about release dates at https://www.moonlitdreams.org/mc-world-books
Chapter 1
July 12, 2015
We had been arguing a bit more than usual lately, but he’d never failed to come home before. Sitting in my living room, body twisted so that my chin rested on the back of the couch, I stared blankly out into the vast darkness beyond my house. Once in a while a flash of lightning would allow me to see down the lonely stretch of gravel drive leading from the old farmhouse I’d inherited from my parents almost to the place where the drive should meet the road if it weren’t being swallowed back into the darkness before my eyes could follow the path. The fast-paced tink-tank sound of the rain hammering down on the tin roof that covered my large expanse of porch was normally something I found soothing and would lull me to sleep as it had since my childhood.
Tonight, that rapid-fire tink-tank sound held neither promise of sweet dreams nor any respite from the worries that invaded my mind. Walker and I hadn’t left it at a good place this morning when he took off for parts unknown with his club brothers. He’d been born into the life of the motorcycle club that he was now a full-patched member of. His momma, having been one of the club’s sluts, and his daddy – only known for certain thanks to DNA testing – had been one of the club’s brothers in the Aces High MC. They’d originally been with the Tallahassee Chapter down in Florida before Walker came here to help start the new chapter in Sierra High, Georgia. Walker had known his whole life that he’d become a part of the club, and just as soon as he was old enough he’d prospected and bided his time until he got his wish. I came into the picture three years later when he was 22 and I was only 19. We’d clicked from the first moment we met and we’d been damn near inseparable in the ten years since. The past eight years of which we had spent as a married couple in addition to me being his old lady in the club’s eyes.
Our problem was that we both wanted to start a family about five years back. We had been casual about trying for a baby in the first year, serious as hell about it the second year, and by the end of the fourth year we had both begun to grow frustrated for our own separate reasons. He didn’t like having to save up on the baby batter for a week before I was ovulating. He really did not appreciate being called from work to come service me like a prized racing stud when the time was right.
I didn’t like that he’d grown resentful of the ways the professionals had told us to increase our chances. My heart ached two days ago when I’d been ovulating and he’d flat out refused to stay home from a club run the guys were supposed to be going on. My dreams of holding a sweet little baby in my arms were dimming; the ones of carrying one in my own belly were almost gone. It’s true, I was only 29, and the doctors had confirmed my body was not the problem so technically my dream should still be alive.
My husband was angry and resentful that his body apparently was the issue though, and he couldn’t give us this thing we both wanted so badly. I was fully aware he’d given up on the prospect of expanding our family about a year back despite the fact that I hadn’t. I got mad at him for not fol
lowing the doc’s orders on how to keep his sperm count up. Now, he just refused to show up at all, and that left us in a horrible place.
That was why I brought up other possibilities that morning. Our doctor explained that we would be fantastic candidates for IVF treatments. Walker scoffed at the idea saying he wasn’t making a baby in a petri dish. He would not even discuss raising someone else’s kid, through adoption, with me either. We’d both blown up, he’d left, and now it was just past two in the morning, and for the first time in our marriage Walker hadn’t called, texted, or come home.
A boulder of anxiety sat in the pit of my stomach as I worried and fretted about whether to face his possible ire by calling his club brothers to make sure he was okay, or if I should just wait and hope all he was doing was blowing off steam with his guys. The storm heaved angry moans as winds blew through creaking trees and determined bolts of lightning slammed down creating such a resounding cacophony of thunderous booms it left me with raised hairs on my body and more anxiety swelling deep inside me.
I texted him again. I never called this late at night in case he was riding and it distracted him. Not that I thought he’d be riding in this weather since he had his bike and not his truck today. Besides, I’d already attempted to call earlier in the day, numerous times, and I had been sent straight to voicemail each and every time. That was a devastating blow in and of itself. Walker knew how important this particular day was to me. He knew I’d have a hard time, especially with another storm blowing through, yet he chose to remain silent.
Me: Babe, please, let me know you’re okay. Storm’s bad out here.
I waited.
The storm beat down the land around my house; one particularly loud thunk told me a large branch must have fallen on the roof somewhere. I prayed there wouldn’t be any damage, because I’d been saving money in case Walker agreed to the IVF and I knew he’d see to a new roof on the house before agreeing to use the money for making a baby in a goddamn petri dish.
Thirty minutes since I’d sent the text, and the storm raged on around me. The tink-tank of the rain on the tin roof had become more of a frenzied maelstrom of unrelenting noise. Thunder was clapping through the night every two minutes or less, and still all I heard was the silence from my phone. The boulder in my belly grew heavier. I relented and decided to text Snake who happened to be Walker’s closest brother in the club.
Me: He has never not come home, texted, or called by now. Please, just tell me he’s somewhere safe and he’s okay. I’m not asking for details. This storm is scary, big shit fell on the roof, and I’m worried he’s out there in it on the bike since his truck is here.
Five minutes passed.
Snake: He’s fine. Hunkered down since he has his bike.
Me: His phone broke?
I didn’t send that last message. I knew better than to put our business out there to his brothers and get them involved even if I did also consider Snake to be my friend. Honestly, it didn’t matter though, because I also knew that Walker had to communicate with Snake somehow and he still hadn’t contacted me. I finally let go of the pent up emotion that had been building and let loose the deluge of tears that ran in hot, wet rivers down my cheeks to soak the front of my night shirt. It was Walker’s t-shirt, the one that smelled the most like him.
Ten minutes of tears later.
Snake: He let you know he’s good yet?
Me: No. Thanks for telling me though.
It was almost three in the morning now. The boulder of anxiety and worry that he’d been hurt out there somewhere was eased only to be replaced with the latest crack on my heart. Staring into the darkness beyond my window I couldn’t help but feel the sky had opened up this turbulent mess of booming thunder, white-hot lightning, and swamping rains just for me. Shouldn’t the world shake and cry for you when you realize your heart cracked so wide open that you think it will never heal again? I already knew things were bad between us, but the storm, the night, the significance of everything culminating on this particular day seemed to cry out to me that my marriage was also coming to terrible, inevitable, and sad ending.
My parents were gone now for six years, my little sister with them. They were taken in a car accident during a storm much like this one. Lightning struck a tree just up ahead of them when they were driving home. My dad swerved to miss the brunt of it when it split and fell, but the slick roads and sloppy shoulder sent them down over the embankment and straight into the swollen river below. The car had rolled down the 75 feet to the water and entered top down. They never stood a chance of making it through that.
Rain continued trailing down the windowpane in time with the tears that streaked their salty paths down my cheeks. Walker was out in this mess somewhere, and didn’t bother to let me know he was safe. He had to remember what happened, because he had been there with my older brother, Keith, and me when it all went down. That’s how I knew, deep in my gut, that we were finally over; because the man I’d loved all these years would never leave me to worry during a storm like this one. On this day, the anniversary of my family’s deaths, during a storm so similar to the one that had taken them he couldn’t be bothered to contact me? The fact that he had left me to grieve alone and worry about him on top of that spoke volumes. His cell going straight to voicemail for me while Snake was able to get a hold of him was even more telling. Then there was the fact that Snake would have said, “he’s here, don’t worry,” if he had been in sight somewhere.
Two headlights suddenly lit up the view outside my window. They were sitting high enough that I knew it was a truck coming up my drive. I thought about turning the porch light on for whoever it was, but then I remembered the power had gone out hours ago. Walker hadn’t brought the generator up to the house from the shed out back earlier, because he stormed out on the heels of our fight instead. I had candles, though I hadn’t bothered to light any. There were flashlights stowed here and there around the house too, though they were scattered and I hadn’t bothered to grab any of them either. I didn’t have it in me to get off this damn couch and out of the window. I watched as the shadowy figure navigated in the dark from the driveway to the porch. Then I listened as the doorknob was tested with a jiggle, and then once found unlocked, turned fully to admit the stranger into my house.
“Babe, you need to lock the fuckin’ door.” Snake hissed those words out irately before he attempted to scan the dark, shadowy room. “What the fuck? Poppy?” Concern laced his voice now. “How long’s power been out here, babe?”
“Don’t know,” I answered with a scratch in my voice from disuse or possibly the emotion that had tainted it with a gravel-like quality I didn’t like all that much. “Most of the night, I guess,” I added apathetically.
“I know you have a generator, babe. Why don’t I hear one running?”
“Walker never brought it up before he left. When I went to use it to plug the fridge in, it wasn’t there. Still in the shed, I suppose. It’s a might too heavy for me to drag up here now that the yard’s a damn pond and with the winds the way they have been,” I explained as I went back to staring out the window. Lightning lit up the sky, and therefore my face since I was looking directly at it. Snake sucked in a deep breath before cursing out, “fucking hell!” A light from his phone shown as he angrily stabbed at the screen for a while. Then he tucked it away again and before he spoke. “You mentioned something heavy fell on the roof? I came to check, doll. I can use my phone light, but if you have a flashlight that’d be better?”
“Should be one in the drawer there, behind you,” I told him as I sort of half-assed pointed to the little desk that sat in the entry way of our house to catch all the crap from our life as we walked through the door. Mail, keys, and pieces of this and that littered the desk on any given day.
“Fuck!” I heard him exclaim a few minutes later, and when I went to investigate I saw what had caused his reaction. The branch, or whatever had hit the roof with a loud thunk earlier, had done damage. Rainwater was leaki
ng in all over the bed in the master bedroom.
Maybe it was the weirdness of the night, the stress I’d been under, or maybe I’d finally just snapped and gone plain crazy, but when I saw how sad my carefully chosen duvet cover and shams looked as a soggy mess under the steady trickle of water I laughed. I laughed so hard Snake trained the flashlight in his hands on me.
“Babe?” He questioned gently.
Once I swallowed my laughter back down I just shrugged. “No one’s using it anyway, why not?” Why not, indeed? Why not let the sky cry down on my sad marital bed in my even more miserable house, and add more despair to the burden I already had to bear tonight? Why not?
“Poppy, let’s get you back downstairs. I’ll get the boys out first thing to help patch the roof when we can assess the damage in the light of day.”
“Sure, why not?” I asked again knowing that nothing really mattered anymore. My husband couldn’t give me a baby, and he hated me for that like it was my own fault. My husband didn’t come home, didn’t call, text, or care that six years ago that very day I lost most of my family to a similar storm. He didn’t care I’d be worried. He no longer cared a tree attempted to fall through our roof, into the bedroom that seemed to be at the root of all our problems these days. I should have been sleeping peacefully in that bed when it happened instead of waiting up in the living room for a sign that he was safe and alive. He didn’t care that the house now wept over our bed, the same way I wept – damn near nightly – over our tumultuous relationship. So, why the fuck not invite his brothers to assess damage to our roof when that should be his job?
“Poppy,” Snake gently called my name again when he reached the bottom of the stairs behind me a few moments after I meandered my way down in my fog of why nots.
Redemption Weather Page 1