Protecting Mine (Unforgiven Riders Book 2)

by Amy Davies

  Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty One

  Twenty Two

  Twenty Three

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon….

  Acknowledgement

  About the author

  Jamie

  The scalding hot water beats down on my battered body. I watch as the blood from between my legs and my face swirls in a pattern down the drain. My body aches as the flashes of images come racing back into my head; David flirting with me and taking me down to the garage for some one on one time.

  David was the popular boy in college, and for him to ask me to this party was huge. So I had said yes and went with him.

  I saw a few of the other boys from around college, one in particular frowning at me when we walked past.

  Wesley Taylor.

  It was too late to see what was actually happening.

  I scrub my arms with the sponge, rubbing my skin raw. I can still smell them on me. I can see David’s face, close to mine, telling me that I was a ‘prissy cunt’ who needed to be put in her place.

  I squeeze my legs together, trying to block out the feel of each of them taking a turn raping me.

  My skin hurts—everything hurts. The water isn’t working to take away the pain, the feel, or the smell. I sob, my tears washing away with the water.

  I try to stand, but the pain between my legs makes me lose my balance and I fall back against the cold, tiled wall.

  “WHY?” I scream to the room. I live alone, thank God. My parents got me a small flat close to the college. I am anti-social, so I have no real friends. I would rather be on my own.

  I can only thank God that they each left once they finished. They each took a turn, not only raping but beating on me too. I had laid there for who knows how long until Wesley and Ace found me. I knew they belonged to a local MC, but they didn’t scare me.

  David, Carl and Phillip had already left. I didn’t notice when they came near me at first. Ace helped me to my feet, and my weak body almost crumbled to the floor, but Wesley lifted me up into his arms and Ace draped a jacket over me. They carried me out to their car and brought me home.

  I didn't say anything to them. I stumbled out of the car and ran into my ground floor flat. I only heard them drive off when I closed and locked my door.

  I try again to leave the shower, this time succeeding. I dry off, climb into my fluffy pyjamas and slide into my bed. I can only hope I somehow wake up from this nightmare and realise it is just that: a nightmare. But I know I’m not that lucky.

  I can never go back to college and see those three every day. My head and heart won’t take it. I run ways of getting out of town through my head. Sleep doesn’t come easily, but by the time the sun is coming up, my eyes droop closed.

  My sleep isn’t a peaceful one, as it’s filled with flashes of what they did to me and what they could have done to me. I wake up, sweat pouring down my body, my heart beating wildly in my chest. My eyes scan the room, looking for anyone who shouldn’t be here.

  I spot my suitcase in the corner under my desk, and my heart skips a beat. I clamber out of bed and pull the suitcase up onto the mattress. I turn and start pulling clothes out and throwing them into the case. I wildly run around my flat, picking things that I want to take with me now. I can send for the rest later.

  I will be gone from here, and I will never look back. I will never again have to see the three boys who ruined my life.

  Jamie

  (14 years later)

  I look up at the building before me and let out a sigh. I stand stock still and turn my head, taking in the area around me. I never wanted to come back here after that night. I swore up and down that I would never step foot in the area again. But I guess good old Uncle Stu had to have the last joke, didn't he.

  He was my favourite uncle, and when he died a few weeks ago, I was devastated. He left me this pub in his will.

  The Silver Bowl.

  The main bar in this town.

  Anyone and everyone comes to this pub. It’s a sports bar that serves comfort bar food. There are TV’s on the wall, playing different sports. I used to love coming here when I was younger. I used to come here and help out before that night—that is how I caught the eyes of the boys.

  I take one more deep breath and push through the doors. Today is officially my first day of owning The Silver Bowl. I kept the staff on because they know how things work, and to be honest, I know a good thing when I see it. They are young, and they bring in the customers, and that is all I care about. Money in the bank.

  The sounds of people talking fill the room, as well as Queens of the Stone ‘No One Knows’ playing through the pub’s surround sound system. I see the TV’s are playing four different sports. Andrew and Nell are behind the bar serving drinks, and Bethy is cleaning tables and collecting empties.

  I love the bar.

  It has a casual feel about it, but it isn’t a dive either. Brown wood everywhere. It looks like a proper American sports bar, which is what Uncle Stu wanted. There are high tables and chairs around the room, with booths with red leather seats.

  We have two pool tables and even a dartboard on the wall in the far corner. I made Uncle Stu add a small stage the year I left, so he could have some live bands perform once a month or so.

  “Hey, there’s our new sexy boss lady,” Euan yells over the chatters. I smile and salute him. I see eyes on me and revel in the attention I get now. Now I am stronger and have a thicker skin. Even if that skin is now covered in very detailed tattoos.

  I have two full sleeves, from shoulder to wrist, and one hand tattoo. One sleeve is black and white, roses, thorns and some lily flowers. The other sleeve has a Mexican Day of the Dead lady, showing her sultry eyes, with roses around her. She fills my shoulder to my elbow. From my elbow down, I have an hourglass, roses and vines wrapped around the stand. The top glass is shattered with birds flying free. The sand that pours into the bottom glass, builds a castle.

  This tattoo is the new me. The birds are flying free from being trapped in the glass, and the sand fall is building the sand castle, like me rebuilding my life.

  I will never feel trapped again.

  I also have a beautiful Russian pattern tattoo between my tits. It starts under each breast and comes up between them, stopping in the middle of my chest. Each of the sides frame my tits perfectly. Jay, at Castle Ink, did an epic fucking job on all my ink. Well, him and Dex. Who could turn down the offer of two sexy brothers tattooing them? Their women are very fucking lucky ladies.

  “Hey, Eu. How are you today?” I greet Euan as I walk closer to the bar.

  “All good. Damn, woman, you belong in a biker bar dressed like that.” He winks at me and I smile. He is right though. I look down at my body and smile at my outfit. One thing you should know about me is I fucking love leather and black.

  When my dads sent me to my auntie’s house to live after what happened, I reinvented myself. And yes, you read that correctly, my dads. I have two absolutely fucking amazing fathers. Lewis and Thomas. My biological dad, Lewis, and my mum, Davina, had been best friends growing up, but my dad always knew he was gay.

  They decided to have a baby together—I am so not t
ouching on the how. Unfortunately, my mum died a few hours after having me, due to a complication during the birth. My dad met my other dad, Thomas, when I was four months and old, and here we are.

  Anyway, back to my outfit. I’m wearing my black leather trousers and black vest that shapes to my tits. My leather jacket is on for now, but that will come off very soon. My black ankle boots finish off my outfit.

  “What can I say, I look good in everything.” I wink at him and he smiles at me. Euan is a really good-looking guy. He’s twenty-five and just out of a serious relationship. The silly twat cheated on him.

  “Hell yeah, you do, boss.” I walk around the bar and up the stairs to my uncle Stu’s office—well, my office now. I push the door open and remove my jacket, hanging it on the back of the door, before walking over and taking a seat behind the desk. I take a deep breath and look around the room. This was another one I’d had to re-decorate. It had been painted all brown and looked like crap, but he did have a wicked desk, so I kept that.

  Now the walls are grey and off white. I’d added a tall shelving unit above the ‘U’ shaped desk in the corner. I can sit in the middle and have a part of the desk behind me, in front of me, and to the side. I have two computer screens on the back section against the wall that I use to flick through the security cameras. I have one in front of me that I use for everything else.

  I look up at my art on the wall. It’s a hobby of my aunt’s that rubbed off on me. Aunt Trudy took me in after what happened to me. She is my dad, Thomas’s, sister. She had no problem taking me in and helping me heal. She taught me how to survive what happened.

  I am the person I am today, thanks to her. She was one mean bitch when she needed to be. Polite as fuck, but you get on her bad side, then you had better fucking run for your life. It was her who took me to a self-defence class, and then my craving for the adrenaline grew. I am now a black belt in Kyokushin style karate.

  The wooden clock on the wall has bottle caps instead of numbers. I have a thing for bottle cap art. Downstairs, as you walk into the bar, on the wall there is a large wooden arrow that is covered in used bottle caps and has the word ‘Bar’ attached to it.

  I flick on the computer screens and sit and watch the people down in the bar. I click the arrow and the screen flicks to the camera behind the bar. I smile, seeing my staff mingle with the customers.

  Flicking back to the main room camera, I spin around and start up my computer. I need to run over a few things for next Saturday night. I know we are going to need another doorman because we have a band playing and they have quite a large female following.

  I make sure everyone’s hours are updated and check the temp barmaid can work that Saturday night. I sigh when I see her reply saying she will help me out. Thank fuck for that. Now, a doorman.

  The intercom buzzes and Bethy’s voice comes through the speaker.

  “Jamie, we need you.”

  “Fuck.” I jump up from my seat and run downstairs. As I rush into the main room, I see a bunch of guys throwing punches and glasses crashing to the floor, along with tables and chairs.

  “HEY,” I scream and grip the closest guy to me by the back of his jumper. I throw him to the side and turn to the next dickhead smashing up my bar. I grab the next man and throw him against the bar. I know he is known around the area for starting fights, but he isn’t going to do shit in my bar. I point to him and bitch him out.

  “You are fucking barred from now on. You don’t get to come into this place and smash it up. Who the fuck do you think you are?” He goes to speak but my anger is still raging. “Rhetorical question, arsehole. Now fuck off out of here and take your fucking muppet mates with you, yeah.”

  He’s looking at me like I have three heads. Blood is pouring from his nose and onto his t-shirt.

  “You don’t want to mess with me, bitch. I can ruin you.” My spine straightens. My heart is racing, but I don’t show any emotion—until he smirks at me.

  Feelings from that night come rushing back to me, and I swallow the bile trying to escape. While the fuckers were raping me, they kept telling me they would ruin me for all men. They almost succeeded too. Again, Aunt Trudy to the rescue.

  “Is that what you think?” He nods, and I laugh in his face—like full on belly laugh. I bend over, gasping for air. The fight has stopped now and the room is quiet, except for my laughing. I take a deep breath and straighten up, looking at the prick in front of me. I wipe away the tears from under my eyes, shaking my head at him.

  “You can never ruin me, because I was already ruined once before. I came back from that. I am telling you now; you can try, but you will never succeed in ruining me, so get that into your thick fucking head, you prick.” My anger starts to build. My heart continues racing. “No man will ever ruin me. Now get your wanker friends out of my bar and never come back.” I nod towards the door.

  I hear people stumbling, but I keep my eyes on the muppet in front of me.

  He spits on the floor, almost hitting my boot. I steel my facial expression and watch as he straightens up and walks out of the bar without another word. Once they are all gone, I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding. I hate feeling like this, but fuck me, I will never show another man fear again.

  I look around the room and see a shit ton of eyes on me. I smile and start picking up chairs.

  “A round is on me.”

  Bethy and Nell get everyone their drinks, and Euan and Andrew help me set the tables and chairs right. I fucking hate bar fights. They cost so much money in damages. I turn back to the bar and see a guy sitting on his own, watching me with a smile on his face. And what a sexy face it is—perfect for sitting on and getting an orgasm out of it.

  His hair is a dark brown by the looks of it, but it’s dimly lit in here. His jaw has a few days’ worth of stubble on it, perfect for pussy friction. His hair reaches his ears. I prefer a man with shorter hair, but it’s something to grip onto I suppose.

  We stand there looking at each other until he stands from the stool he was sitting on. He winks at me, drinking the last of his beer. He nods at me and turns to leave. I gasp when I see the back of the leather cut he’s wearing.

  * * *

  Unforgiven Riders MC

  My heart jerks in my chest, more so than when the dick was making threats. The local MC have done a lot for our community. Yeah, people are scared of some of the boys, but they are not a real threat to anyone—well, maybe to all women’s pussies. But can you really call that a threat?

  But it’s not the only thing that runs through my head. It is him—well, them. Wesley and Ace. They helped me that night. They were kids of the MC. I can only imagine they patched into the club when they became old enough. It was their dream, everyone knew it. Fuck, they got more girls in school because of it.

  I would watch Wesley from time to time, and I even caught him looking at me. He would give me a panty-melting smile, making me blush to high heaven. I never talked to him, because why would a boy like him ever be interested in a geeky, shy girl like me. I was never popular, but I was left alone for the most part.

  “Jamie.” Nell calls my name, pulling me back from the thoughts of my past. I shake my head and turn around to see what she wants. All the tables and chairs have been righted, and Andrew is sweeping up the glass that was smashed.

  “What’s up, babe”? I ask as I walk over to the bar.

  She slides a glass across the bar top to me. I smile down at the clear liquid with pretty purple flowers floating in the small rounded tumbler. Nell knows what I like to drink, and now is the perfect time for some gin. I may be a hard-arse bitch, but I do love a girly drink too. Pink gin and lemonade is my go to drink at the moment, unless it has been a cunt of a day, then I will drink it neat. But now the mixed drink is perfect, because it brings a smile to my face, which Nell knew would happen.

  “You, my little Nellie, are a fucking star.” I take a drink and let the cold liquid slide down my throat, hitting my empty stomach. Fuck,
I forgot to eat again. I keep my glass in my hand and make my way into the kitchen where old Lance is working on the orders.

  “Hey, boss lady, things okay out there?” Lance is from America. He met Uncle Stu when they were in the Navy. When they both took retirement, Lance moved here, and Uncle Stu gave him a job. I thought the pub would be left to him, but it turns out old Lance was more than happy to pass on the responsibility and cook instead.

  “All sorted, old man.” I wink at him.

  “Old? Fucking hell, girl, I could give you a run for your money in the sack—if I knew my old girl wouldn't chop my balls off.” He winks at me. This what we have always been like, the fun banter between us. But over the last few years, when I changed myself, the fun banter was mixed with a dash of sexual banter. We never took what the other person said seriously though.

  He had always made me laugh. When I was a teenager and I worked here, helping out when they needed me to, it helped a little with my confidence.

  “Oh, I have no doubt.” I open the large fridge and then close it. Nothing seems appealing to me.

  “Girl, what are you after? I gather you didn’t eat again?” Yeah, Lance knows me inside and out. He’s like a non-blood uncle.

  I shrug. “Yeah, I was nervous about tonight.” He looks at me like he doesn’t believe me. “Shut it. What are you going to make me?”

  “I guess for a kiss I can make you your favourite.” He taps his cheek that is covered in a trimmed beard. Lance’s wife, Fran, is amazing. She is a fiery little Irish lady who doesn’t take shit from anyone. I am so blessed to be surrounded by such strong, amazing women. I wish I’d seen that years ago.