Brick

by Trixie Brewster

  Angels

  and Sinners

  Brick

  Trixie Brewster

  Angels and Sinners

  Brick

  Copyright © 2019 by Trixie Brewster

  All copyrights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication or any part of this book may be reproduced without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distrusted via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

  Note From The Author:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been uses fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume and responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  Warning: This book is meant for readers over the age of 18 due to bad language, some violence and explicit sex scenes.

  Published in the United States of America

  Chapter 1

  Korey

  I sat there staring at the school principal. There was no way I was hearing what I thought I was. “Ms. Baker, I hate to have to tell you, but there is nothing I can do about this.” My eyes bugged out of my head. My kids have been picked on and bullied all freaking year, why because my ex has the whole town believing that I wrecked the home life. In truth, hell I didn’t know my fucking husband was engaged to another woman.

  “So, you are telling me that you can’t do anything about an eight-year-old being told that she is a whore, or that my five-year-old boy is twat? Nothing at all?” I asked with a sarcastic tone. It is one thing to talk about me, hell I don’t care but messing with my kids really brought out the bitch in me. I normally was one to avoid confrontation but right now I have nothing left to lose.

  “Ms. Baker I can’t help what parents talk about and what their kids bring to school.” She smiled a knowing smile. Oh, I knew right then that she knew, and thought I really was a home wrecker.

  “Well that is good to know. I want to pull my kids from your sorry excuse of a school. What you are letting happen on your campus is the same as child abuse. Have a nice life, Mrs. Butts.” I rose from my chair and checked out my kids. There was only five days left in the school year. But that was five days too many to subject my kids to this hell. I only learned about the bullying one month ago. Sadie thought it was normal to be called a whore and told that her mom was a homewrecker. It gutted me when I found out what the teachers and school were letting happen.

  “Ms. Baker you do realize that truancy can be filed against you.” The little bitch sneered at me. “Mrs. Butts for your information we are moving, and their new school is already out for the summer.” I replied with as much hate as I could muster in my soft-spoken voice. I hated being soft spoken, it was like an invitation to be walked on. God knows my ex did that every day.

  “Your reputation will follow you like a plague.” She laughed at me. I never wanted to hit someone so bad, the feeling that was in my gut told me to swing first then ask questions later. My brain however told me not to. Kill them with kindness and all that bullshit. I tried my hardest to smile. “Have a wonderful life Mrs. Butts.” I was too old for school yard fights and I had two babies to look after. Sadie and Sean came running around the corner. “Mama, Mom, Mama.” Sean said fast, “Where is we a going?” His brown eyes beamed up at me. He looked so much like his father, but his attitude was nothing like it. He was always happy and always smiling. “We are going to Cali, baby boy.” He grabbed my hand and Sadie beamed up at me. “What is Cali? How far is it? Are we moving? I hate this school; do I have to come back?” My little eight-year-old asked. She had questions out the wazoo, but I wouldn’t have her any other way.

  “Well baby, it is at least two days away. But it will be fun. Your uncle is there.” She smiled real big. They both knew their uncle was in the military. Unlocking the car door both kids filed in and buckled their seat belts. Sean was in his booster chair playing with his motorcycle making the vroom vroom noises. He has been dead set on motorcycles for the past two years. I was glad that he was gripping the toy correctly. He suffered from fine motor delays, and speech development. Not that I was complaining, we worked on it daily correcting his words slowly and getting him to play with small items and correcting his grip. I felt like I was the only one trying. The special education teacher and the speech therapist didn’t do much for my little boy. But I was determined to get his speech and fine motor where it needed to be.

  Both of my babies have blonde hair they got from me, but in a couple of years Sadie’s would turn brown and Sean’s would follow suit. My hair started off blonde as a child but soon turned brown after I got into high school. They got their brown eyes from their father. I had blue eyes, I was told once they were serial killer eyes. I questioned my eye color on a daily basis. The soft rock music drifting into the car as we made our way home was comforting. They may have received their eyes from their father but that was all they received. The smiles were mine and their attitudes their own.

  “Mama when can I get a tattoo?” My daughter asked. I turned down the music and tapped my chin like I was deep in thought, as I turned off the small highway onto our dirt road I answered her. “In ten years, you will be how old?” Sadie was doing the math on her fingers. “Eighteen, yeah mama I will be eighteen.”

  “Yep, you are right, and that is when you can get one. They are permanent, they don’t wash off ever.” I smiled back at her as we pulled into the driveway. “How old were you went you got your first one?” She asked with a smile on her face. She knew the answer. I could see the wheels turning in her mind. “I was seventeen, but I had an adult sign for me. Your great grandmother signed for me.” She bobbed her head up and down. “Well can you sign for me when I am seventeen? I really want one, my friend says that whores get tattoos and well that’s what everyone calls me.” She shrugged her shoulders and I sighed. “Sadie, no whores are not the only people who have tattoos. Lots of people have them. And lots of them have meaning too.” I tried to explain. Sadie was smart as a whip and used her god given brain to get what she wanted.

  “You got a star, right?” I nodded my head she smiled and continued. “And you have an anchor, pocket watch, rose and angel on your arm, plus an owl and a dragon on your legs and a fairy on your other arm. What do they mean to you?” She asked as we unlocked the door. I sat my purse on the kitchen table and sighed. “Let’s see, the owl is for wisdom, the dragon protection, the fairy to remind me to remember to see things through a child’s mind sometimes, the angel is for your great-grandmother, the rose your grandmother, the anchor your great-grandfather and the pocket watch to remind me that time is precious. The star on my wrist is to remind to always look up at night and make a wish.” I finished my statement that I have told her for the past month. I can remember at her age I was intrigued by tattoos and it never left me. Nor would it leave my daughter.

  “So, all of them have a meaning to you?” She asked again. I felt like I was on trial by an eight-year-old. I swallowed and nodded my head, “Yep, I make sure that each one has a special meaning behind it. That way when I look at the tattoo is more than ink on my skin.” I was hoping that her little interrogation was over, but the look on her little face as her brown eyes widened told me otherwise. “So, mama what you are saying is that as long as it has meaning behind it, that a tattoo is okay, and it doesn’t mean you are a bad person?”

  I knel
t on the ground in front of her and held her hands. “Baby, not everyone that has a tattoo is a bad person. Some people get tattoos for different reasons. Mine have meaning behind them, but someone else might get one because it is pretty. And that is okay too. Everyone is special in their own way. Your special because you are smart and beautiful. Sean is special because he never meets a stranger and is handsome.” I ruffled Sean’s shaggy blonde hair and he giggled. “Every single person on this planet is different, and that is okay. If we were all the same, it would be boring here on earth.” I tried to teach my kids acceptance and tolerance of all life styles and people in general.

  “’Kay, mama can we have pizza?” And just like that the tattoo debate was done for the moment. Sean looked down at his shoes and chewed on his lip. He was deep in thought. “Sean what is wrong?”

  This was our thing, when something was troubling him, he would look down and wait for me to ask him the same question. “Mama, hen es diddy cume hume?” My heart broke for him. It had been two years since their father left and gave up all rights to our kids. I wasn’t that upset about him leaving me, but hurting my kids hurt me more. I often wonder if he knew this and that why he chose to leave his kid’s lives as well. “When is daddy coming home?” I asked back at him and he nodded his head. “Sean, daddy isn’t coming home. He doesn’t want us.” Sadie told him softly. I didn’t want to lie to my kids, but I hated seeing the hurt in his eyes. I nodded my head and swallowed the lump in my throat. I cleared my throat “So pizza it is. I’ve just the thing in the freezer.” They both cheered. Sean jumped up and down and pumped his little arm in the air and ran off to his room. All thoughts of his deadbeat father gone.

  After tucking Sean and Sadie in their beds I got a bottle of wine and poured a hefty glass and got my phone out. I scrolled through my contacts and found the number I was looking for and pressed the dial button. On the third ring Maverick picked up.

  “Hey sis, what are you up to?” it sounded like a party was in full swing in the background. I smiled as I took a sip of the fruity wine.

  “Well, I got a question for you?” His laugh made me wish I could see him. It has been years since we actually talked face to face, but the marines will do that. For the past four years he has been in California. I was proud of him for taking on the family tradition of being in the military. We were close growing up, only three years apart. Both of our parents were active duty in the military. Asthma got me at a young age, I wanted so bad to join the Air Force and be a pilot, so bad I wanted it. I even had a plan on where I would request to be stationed. But somethings in life just were not meant to be.

  “Shoot.” Was his normal response.

  “Would you be up for a visit from me and the kids?” I blurted out. “I need a change of scenery, not just me but Sean and Sadie need a change too.”

  “Wow, well yeah, when were you thinking of making the trip?” He sighed. I could hear a woman in the background asking him to come to her. I smiled it was no surprise, my brother was a catch. His hair never turned brown, so he was a blonde haired blue eyed marine. Plus, he had a goofy assed grin. He would always be my little annoying pain in my ass brother. But I still loved him.

  “Well I was actually thinking of leaving tomorrow. Probably going to move there. I don’t really know what I want to do yet. I just know we have got to get out Brookshire.”

  “Yeah, I’m surprised you haven’t fucking left yet. Yeah, shit yeah, I would be glad for you to come to Cali. I’ll get you a couple of rooms ready. But hey call me when you get into Redding, that way either me or one of the guys can lead you in.” I thought it was weird that I needed an escort. When I went to take a drink, the glass was empty. Huh when did I drink it all? I set the glass down, shrugged my shoulders. “Yeah, I’ll give you a call. Hey Maverick can I ask you something?”

  I heard the sigh from the his end of the line. “What, big sis.” Oh he was taking that tone. I poured another glass and laughed out loud at his audible disgust.

  “Are the marines going to change your station anytime soon?” I already knew my answer, I knew for a couple of years that he wasn’t in active duty anymore. I just knew he wasn’t, but I wanted to hear it from him.

  “Nah, I think I’m good right here.” He knew I could hear a lie in his voice, he had a tell, like a poker tell when he lied. That last word always broke a little in his voice. I smiled into my wine glass. Big sisters always knew their little brothers best. Although it had been four years since I have seen him, we tried to talk at the very least once a month. But generally called each other once a week.

  “Well, that’s good. Glad you found your place to plant roots.” That something our dad had always said. When you find your place, you plant your roots. Being twenty-eight I still haven’t found my place yet. Being an army brat will do that to you. “Well, Maverick I will see you in a few days. Love ya big stinky.”

  “Yeah, yeah, love you too little stinky.” We laughed as we hung up.

  The nicknames came from our father. I was originally big stinky but when my brother outgrew me, he became big stink and me little stinky. I missed both of our parents dearly, but when life throws you lemons, find a lime and some tequila. I laughed at my own little joke in my head. But I was glad they never met my husband. They would have been disappointed in me. But they would have fallen head over heels for my kids though. Even Maverick fell for his niece and nephew when they were born.

  My ex hated my brother with a passion. Now that I think about with a half a bottle of wine in me. I often wonder if it wasn’t because he felt less of a man standing next to my brother. Sure, Paul was six foot, but my brother stood at six-four and not an inch of fat on him. Paul never worked out a day in his life. Although I had asthma, I was still doing my PT’s from when I was a kid. I didn’t need to hit the gym, I could do my work outs from home, a couple hundred crunches, pushup’s, and a good run and I was good to go. I never wanted to have big muscles anyway. Just to stay fit and healthy.

  I thought about what my kids think moving to California as I loaded the car. I was packing what we needed in the trunk of my small bug. My ex thought he could control me, trying to keep me under his thumb, but I made sure he didn’t know about my inheritance. We all have secrets but for some reason I couldn’t let him know how much I got. Our parents passed in a freak accident when I was seventeen. Our grandmother took us in, she passed before Sadie was born. I wasn’t loaded, but I kept all the money in a separate account in my maiden name, Baker. I refused to let him take it from my kids and me. I don’t have a doubt that if he found out he would have drained me dry.

  So far in the past two years I have managed to not have any admirers. Hell, I didn’t blame them. All the shit floating around my name.

  Whore, because god forbid that I slept with my husband.

  Homewrecker, because I was the one that wrecked my home, by being faithful and loyal.

  Bitch, because I burned all his shit and kicked him out of my grandmother’s home.

  Freak, well who doesn’t like to get their hair pulled during doggy style, I mean hello if you’re going to ride my ass, pull my hair.

  Weirdo, well I refuse to conform to normal standards for parents. I refuse to look like a fucking barbie doll plastered with makeup and fake eye lashes.

  I looked in the mirror disgusted with this small town outside of Houston. The people here were fools and idiots. I haven’t had one single friend since I had been married. He ensured that no one talked to me. I didn’t think about it until it was too late. I thought I was doing the right thing being a dutiful little wife for him. I thought I loved him, but I don’t think I ever really did. I just didn’t want to be alone.

  I notice my blue eyes staring back at me, my holes in my ears, and my once brown hair dyed to a red that faded to pink at the ends. The only piercing I had on my face was my tongue. Two years ago, I quit conforming to social norms. I was tired of being a typical woman in small town USA. So, I did a drastic change, got my tongue pierced,
dyed my hair, and got a few other piercings and gauged my ears. My grandmother was a weirdo too. She refused to be something she was not. She was that sweet old lady with a different hair color every six weeks. Blue hair, pink hair, purple hair. She was a true hippie, she supported me having tattoos, and I knew for a fact she was smiling down at me right now. “Grams, I know you can hear me, but I need help. Am I making the right decision by going to Cali. I don’t feel like I am running. Just getting a new change. Change is good, you always taught me that. But I feel drawn there, I don’t know how to explain it.” The lights flickered a bit in the bathroom, and I smiled. Something most people knew about my Grams was that she was a Pagan. She gave no shits over what someone thought about it. Her bumper sticker was simple, telling the whole town to lick a witch.

  I didn’t know what I believed in, but I believed in my Grams watching over me, and my parents. I knew they wouldn’t be upset over my looks, but they would be disappointed that I had stayed with my ex for so long dealing with the bullshit he put me through. “Good to know Grams.” I turned off the lights and went to bed. The next few days were going to be spent on the road.

  Chapter 2

  Brick

  I looked at my VP and smiled, he was an asshole, but he was my best friend and my brother from another mother. I met him four years ago at a bar. We shot the shit and I asked him what his plans were since he was out of the Marines. “Don’t know man. I like California. Thinking about setting down some roots here.” I thought about it for a minute. “You want to prospect for the Angels and Sinner’s MC?” I asked him, he looked at me like I was crazy for a second. “Look man it is like a brotherhood. We all look for one another.” He smiled. “Sure why not.” I had been in the club for ten years at the time and was the Club President at the time as I still am now.

  I wouldn’t change a single thing about the club. My choice to join was easy, my old man was the MC President before me. When I was eighteen, I prospected by nineteen I was a fully patched member, by twenty-five I was patched as the President. My old man and my ma died together going down the five, some asshole pulled into their lane and killed them instantly.