I liked working with kids, I liked learning and educating myself and community college was going to be my way out of the life I had led up until this point. It was my golden ticket, and I was working hard everyday and studying so that I wouldn’t miss this opportunity.
Education was never top priority in our household when I was growing up. Not that it was much of a household to begin with. Mom was a single mother, I had never known my dad. While she never spoke badly of him, she also hadn’t given me any information on who my father was. It was obvious to me that he had made a run for it when he found out that mom was pregnant with me. I hated him. I despised him for leaving me and mom alone, a young teenage mother struggling to bring a child up all by herself. Even though I didn’t know who he was, I was never going to forgive him.
My earliest memories from childhood were of mom working three shifts a day, me being babysat by my alcoholic grandfather and being tucked into bed at night in a cold apartment by mom who was too tired to even stand up. She worked most nights too, which meant that even as a five year old, I stayed alone a lot.
It wasn’t a happy childhood filled with warm fuzzy memories. Mom didn’t care about my school, her biggest concerns were to earn enough money to pay the bills and to keep me alive. By the time I got into high school, mom was on the verge of giving up. My grandfather’s alcoholism had been an influence on her, and she took to the bottle just like he had.
I had to drop out of school to take care of her. She couldn’t go to work anymore because she was drunk all day. I had spent all my teenage years and my early twenties looking after an alcoholic mother who was descending slowly into a dark abyss that I couldn’t drag her out of.
She died of alcohol poisoning, a few days after my twenty-fourth birthday. I was too depressed and too guilty to get out of bed for weeks on end. When I eventually did, I had two options—to either break the mould and make a life for myself that would be different from my mother’s, or go right down the rabbit hole that she had found herself in.
I chose the former. I got myself a job at the diner and I signed up for community college. I kept my nose down, stayed away from trouble as best as I could and had started saving money. I wanted to move out of this neighborhood, I wanted to pass the exams and get a degree and hopefully get a real job. I wanted to be able to walk into a classroom and look at the bright eyes of kids who were eager to learn and I was eager to teach them.
But now, I was sitting on the couch of my one-bedroom apartment, too afraid to even stand up. This could ruin everything. This could get me killed.
I was cold, and I wrapped my arms around my body as a chill ran down my spine. All my plans were beginning to unravel. That biker man had seen me, he knew that I had seen him. Did he also know that the cops were in my apartment? Men like him didn’t trust witnesses to stay quiet, they needed to wipe them out completely. How was I supposed to leave my apartment now? Would I ever be able to stop looking over my shoulder?
I rocked myself, still clasping my arms around my body. I winced every other second from fear and paranoia. I felt like I was always being watched, like I had nowhere to go. How would I go to my shifts at the diner? How would I go to class? I’d have to drop out, I’d lose my job—how was I going to pay rent?
There was a knock on the door and I jumped off of my couch. This was it, they had come after me! They were going to shoot me to silence me. The knocks became louder and harder while I stood frozen next to the couch.
The banging on the door wasn’t going to go away. Stealthily, I walked towards the door. I could feel myself shaking like a leaf, my lips were quivering and I was trying to not burst into tears.
Slowly, I looked through the peephole and I saw the man standing on the other side.
He was tall and muscular and rugged. He had a leather jacket on, sandy blond hair tied in a ponytail, and a sandy blond scruffy beard. I stepped away from the door with a jerk. I didn’t have to look again to know that this guy belonged to a MC too. The biker had sent him to take care of business. He was going to shoot me. He was going to kill me.
3
Rodeo
Hugh told us that there was a witness, and he also told us that she was refusing to talk to the cops. From the moment he told us that, I knew that I wanted to get to the bottom of this. I was going to get the information I needed from her, and then I was going to hunt the fucker down and kill him.
I didn’t need anybody’s help with this, I was capable of handling the situation myself. I didn’t think there was much to do. Hugh said that she was a young girl who seemingly lived by herself, it was going to be an easy task for me.
Hugh had given me her address, he said that it was also the site of the shooting. When I walked into the apartment building, I’d seen the fading chalk marks of Fred’s body. I had to grit my teeth to stop myself from pounding my fists into the pavement.
I was raging mad. I was furious at everything, at the world. Fred was the last man in the MC who deserved to die. I would have taken a bullet for the man if I could have saved him.
The Dark Legion was going to have to pay for this. I was pumped enough to kill every man or woman who stood in my way, but for starters, I was going to kill the man who shot Fred.
I was standing outside the apartment of the woman who Hugh said was the witness. I had been banging on the door. If she was inside, she hadn’t made a sound. I banged on the door again. Hugh and his pansy cop friends hadn’t been able to get her to talk, so I was going to do it for them.
“Open up!” I growled and banged on the door again. I had been standing outside, banging on the door for several minutes and there wasn’t even a squeak from inside.
“Fuck this,” I muttered under my breath and kicked the door with my foot. It rattled and I realized that the chain lock had been pulled into position. So, she was clearly inside.
“Open the fucking door!” I raged and I didn’t care who else could hear me. I kicked the door again and it rattled once more. Next, I threw myself against the door and this time it caved. One more time and it was going to break open.
I was seeing red. All I cared about was getting the information I needed out of the woman on the other side. At whatever cost.
I flung myself into the door again, and this time, it did more than rattle. The door broke open, sending the chain lock flying inside.
With my jaws clenched and my fists bunched up, I swung open the remaining section of the door and stepped in.
I didn’t expect to see her. I didn’t expect to see a woman who looked like her on the other side.
She was standing in the middle of the room, clutching herself tightly and shivering from fear. There were tears streaming down her cheeks, she was bawling her eyes out.
She was a voluptuous woman, with thick thighs and wide hips. The blouse she was wearing stretched tightly over her juicy swinging breasts, and her jeans were tight on her legs, accentuating the curves of her hips and her butt. She had the most exquisitely tanned olive skin, and beautiful wide dark eyes. She was raven haired, with her hair messily tied up in a bun on the side of her head.
I had stopped in my tracks when I saw her. I had been pissing mad a moment before that. I couldn’t feel a single thing on my body, even though I had just broken a door down and burst through it. Now, I suddenly felt tongue-tied, like I couldn’t move. Just watching her standing there, with tears streaming down her cheeks was enough to immobilize me.
“Please, don’t hurt me,” she cried and clamped her hands over her mouth. I gulped. My throat had gone dry. Fred was still at the back of my mind, I remembered why I was here but I couldn’t get the words out of my system.
I had caused this. I was the one who had scared her and never before in my life had I felt so suddenly weak. I wanted to pull her into my arms, I wanted to hold her to my chest and stroke her hair. In a matter of seconds, the tables had turned on me. I didn’t want to hound her for information, I wanted to protect her.
I stepped towards her s
lowly and she grew rigid and gasped.
“No! Please…I don’t know anything. I didn’t see anything,” she cried and took a step away from me.
I stretched my hands out towards her. I needed her to see that I wasn’t holding any weapons.
“It’s okay, it’s all right. I’m not going to do anything,” I said and took another step. It was like I was a hunter and she was the prey. I knew that if I made one wrong move, she could slip out from my hands. I was trying to back her into a corner so that I could calm her down.
“No, please no!” she squealed, and I noticed the way the tops of her cheeks had turned red. Her cheeks were damp from all the crying.
“I’m not going to do anything. Nice and easy now,” I said and stepped closer to her slowly. She was shivering like she was freezing. I felt a strong sense of guilt in my heart. This woman deserved to be protected, she didn’t deserve to be scared out of her wits like I had just done to her.
“No!” she screamed when I took another step, and before I knew what she was going to do, she had whipped around from me and was running into her bedroom.
She had run into the bedroom and I chased after her. Suddenly, I was panicking that she was going to try and jump out of the window to get away from me!
“No, please, no!” she squealed and I saw her reach for her cellphone on the bed. I knew what she was about to do, she was going to call the cops.
I strode into the room as she dialed the three numbers with shaking fingers. She looked up and saw me approaching her and let out another cry. I saw the sheer fear in her eyes. I wanted her to stop running away from me, to stop being afraid of me, but she was refusing to just calm down and listen.
I reached for the phone, walking right up to her and I snatched it out of her hands. She squealed but couldn’t do anything.
“You have got to stop,” I said, looking her straight in the eyes and then I slid her phone down the pocket of my jeans.
She watched me doing it and clamped her hands over her mouth and let out another cry.
“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, trying to hold her gaze but she ducked and tried to swerve around me. I grabbed her by her waist and pulled her back in front of me.
When my hand touched her body, I felt a sizzle. Even though she was afraid of me and trying to run away from me, I couldn’t help but be attracted to her. I plonked her down in front of me and placed my hands on her quivering shoulders.
She couldn’t stop crying.
“Look at me, look up at me!” I barked while she blubbered. She slowly raised her eyes, her long dark eyelashes were damp from all the crying. Her cheeks were flushed and her red cherry lips were quivering. I had to do everything in my power to not kiss her right then.
“What is your name?” I asked and she took in a shallow shaky breath.
“Okay, you can call me Rodeo. What should I call you?” I said, still holding her tightly by her shoulders.
“Jordan,” she spoke meekly. She was still shaking, but at least now that I had gotten her talking, she was crying a little less.
“Okay, Jordan, tell me you believe me that I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, looking at her intently. Her dark eyes were wide and watery. I could see that she was trying her best to not burst into another volley of tears. She wasn’t going to respond.
“I’m going to take my hands off your shoulders, but you have to promise that you won’t run or scream or cry. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise,” I said. I knew I was speaking like I was speaking to a child, but I had no other option. I had to get her to trust me. That was the only way this was going to work.
“Do you promise?” I asked her and finally, Jordan nodded her head. Her hair had come undone from the bun she had tied, and the dark raven strands fell in waves around her slender shoulders.
“Okay, that’s good,” I said, and slowly, I let go of her. She sighed loudly from relief but just like she had promised, she didn’t run or make a sound. I stepped away from her, but her phone was still in my pocket. I lifted my hands up in the air.
“See? Not doing anything,” I said and she clasped her hands together, then lifted up her shoulder and turned her face to dab at her damp cheeks. She was beautiful and looked vulnerable as she stood in front of me. She had no idea how badly I wanted to protect her. She thought that I was going to harm her.
“Okay, I’m sorry about the door. I shouldn’t have broken into your apartment like that. I needed to talk to you,” I said and she shook her head wildly. Her nostrils were flared and I could sense another burst of tears coming on.
“I don’t know anything to talk about. I haven’t spoken to the cops. I’ve told them nothing. I didn’t see anything!” she was screeching as she spoke and I took in a deep breath and nodded my head.
“It’s okay, Jordan, just relax. I know you haven’t spoken to the cops. One of them is a friend of mine and he told me that you didn’t tell him anything,” I said and that seemed to calm her down.
“Then why are you here? I promise I won’t say anything to anybody. I’ll leave this apartment, I’ll move out of this place. I’ll do anything, just leave me alone!” she was crying again and I had no choice but to step towards her again.
“Jordan! Hey, hey!” I called out to her and she clamped her mouth shut, with tears still rolling down her cheeks.
“You said you’d trust me. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not here to silence you. I’m just here to ask you a few questions about what you saw, that’s all,” I said. She pursed her lips together, her nostrils were flared—she was trying to stop herself from crying again. Then slowly, she started to take steps away from me till her back was against the wall of the bedroom.
“I don’t know who to trust, I don’t know what to believe,” she said, in a soft meek voice. I gulped as I stared at her. I didn’t want her to feel this way. I wanted to do everything I could to make this feeling go away. I wanted to keep her safe, and even though I didn’t think that I could hate the Dark Legion any more, now I did. I was fucking furious at them for putting her in this position.
4
Jordan
I felt like my whole world was crumbling down around me, and I had nowhere to run. The man in my bedroom now had me cornered. I had my back up against the wall and he was standing in front of me, glaring at me.
Under any other circumstance, I would have acknowledged the fact that this guy was smoking hot. He was tall and heftily muscular. His sandy blond hair was long and he had tied it in a tight ponytail at the back of his head. His beard looked scruffy, the kind of soft roughness that would have made my skin tingle. I felt a desperate urge to run my fingers through his beard now.
He was staring at me with his deep blue eyes. His face was chiseled, his nose was long and strong, and when he’d grabbed me, I’d felt the strength in his arms. He had a leather jacket on, and old rugged looking jeans and dusty boots. There were tattoos all over his neck and crawling up the front of his hands. On his fingers he had chunky thick rings, and he was a man who could have easily overpowered me by now.
But I wanted my mind to stop going there. I needed to stop thinking about how sexy he was, because even though he wanted me to trust him, I didn’t know if I could.
“Jordan,” he said my name softly and took a step towards me again. I had nowhere to go. I was trapped. Every inch that he came closer to me, I could feel my body shuddering from a mix of desire and fear. I had been afraid of him, I was afraid of what he wanted from me, that he was here on a mission—to kill me.
But he could have easily accomplished that by now if he really wanted to. I knew that too. He had ample opportunity. He was way stronger than me and I’d noticed the gun tucked into his belt already. What was stopping him from killing me? Other than perhaps the fact that he really wasn’t here to harm me.
“I need to know what you saw,” he repeated himself. He was standing close to me now, close enough for me to just lean forward and rest my head against his chest.
I didn’t know this man, and I didn’t know what he wanted from me but I couldn’t stop imagining resting myself against him, feeling the strength in his arms as he held me.
I had been exhausted and scared ever since the shooting. I hadn’t had a moment’s peace. What I wouldn’t have given, just to let it all go—just to forget about everything and go back to leading my usual life.
“I didn’t see anything,” I said again, afraid that this might be a trick. How could I trust him? No matter how hot he was, and no matter how strongly he insisted that he didn’t want to hurt me—this was a man in a leather jacket, tatted up and he had just broken down my door and snatched my phone away from me.
Rodeo shook his head slowly.
“You don’t trust me still, do you?” he asked, and his blue eyes glittered in the dim light of my bedroom. All the curtains were still pulled on the windows, my room was still shrouded in darkness.
I jutted my chin up in the air in defiance. I had no means of protecting myself, I had no defense against him. Technically, he could do anything he wanted to me, and I was surprised that he wasn’t using violence yet.
“I don’t know you, I don’t trust you, and besides, there is nothing to say,” I told him. Rodeo clenched his jaws, his eyes were focused on me. His gaze dropped from my face to my heaving breasts. He watched them rise and fall, and the more he looked at me, the more I wanted him to keep looking.
There was a rush of conflicting and confusing emotions inside me. I was sexually attracted to this man who I was afraid of at the same time. I had never experienced anything like this before. I was forcing myself to keep looking at him, to meet his eyes.
“Jordan, I know you saw the shooting. I know you saw the man on the bike who pulled the trigger. I need you to stop lying, and I need you to trust me and tell me everything you saw,” he said.
Marked Skulls MC Series: Books 1-5 Page 16