Scorned (A Ruthless Rebels MC #2) Read online

  She smiles wide. “Yes, I am. What brings you back to Granville? I heard you were off in Florida with some bigshot network.”

  Embarrassment punches me in the gut. I knew coming out of my mother’s house would mean I’d get questioned. This is a small town, and everyone knows everyone else. Not to mention people are gossips. Some things never change. I guess I just didn’t expect it to be the first person I met here. I’d better get used to it.

  My cheeks heat and my neck throbs. I reach up and rub the scar on the side of my neck that I cover with my hair. Sadness strikes and I want nothing more than to go back to my little twin-sized bed at my mother’s house and hide away from the world. Unfortunately, that isn’t an option. I need a paycheck. Therefore, I have to work. The story of my life. Fear be damned.

  “Just back.” The words are lame, and I’m sure she can see right through them, but luckily she just smiles and lifts the phone. She speaks to whom I assume is Mr. Collins then sets the receiver down.

  She points over to the lone door in the place off to the left. “Over there. He’s ready for you. It’s really great to have you here, Andrea.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and relax just a bit.

  “Thank you.”

  Mr. Collins sits at his wide desk. The total opposite of Kenderly’s in that his is a total and utter disaster. Papers lay everywhere, half eaten pen caps on the desk and scattered to the floor, empty coffee cups that I’m sure have some kind of science experiment growing inside them.

  “Sit, sit,” he tells me, waving to the lone chair in the room also covered in papers. Picking them up and holding them because there is really nowhere else to put them except the floor, and who knows what I have in my hand. It could be national secrets or something like that. I laugh to myself. National secrets? In Granville?

  “Alright.” He looks directly at me, his wire glasses half on his nose half off. His dark hair, what he has of it, is in disarray, and he looks like he needs a nap. “You’re on the desk. I’ve got stories that need to be written, and you’re doing it. Leg work has already been done, just need words on paper to get to print. That’s where you come in. Got it.”

  This is a great welcome. “Got it.”

  “Your mother told me what happened, and I’m sorry you had to go through that. But I’m damn happy you’re here. I need the help. Kenderly will get you set up with a cubical and this,” he picks up a stack of file folders which to me have no rhyme or reason. “These are yours. Get to work.”

  I take the folders and they weigh down my arms, but I’m relieved that my mother was right. Here goes nothing.

  Chapter 2

  Pussy’s just pussy, except when it’s that pussy!

  I can’t believe she’s back. Fucking hell.

  Twisting the throttle, I keep on going by the house still in disbelief. It seems the rumors are true. The wind hits my face but does nothing to cool the fire I feel building inside.

  Andrea Lynn Davies is back in town.

  The one woman who gave me her virginity and took my soul in return. I can still feel her tight pussy as I pushed my way inside her, breaking her barrier. Her arms around my neck as her fingertips pressed into my skin. She begged me to move while I had to hold myself still to keep from blowing my load.

  Had a lot of pussy since then and not a single one comes close to hers. I gave her my honesty. Never held a damn thing back.

  It’s not who I am.

  She took what she wanted from me and then left without ever looking back. The woman didn’t even bother to break up with me. We had a fight where she said she wanted more than Granville, Alabama. I thought it was an argument. One where we could kiss and make up in a day or two. Instead, she simply took off to Florida, changed her number, and told her mom not to give me anything on her.

  She wanted to be big time, I guess. At least that’s what she took off to do. White trash, country boy wasn’t good enough for her high class dreams.

  Looks like she still landed on her perfectly plump ass right back here.

  Riding to the clubhouse, I try to tame the burn building inside me. Stomping through the door, I belly up to the bar where Lurch is behind it readying a beer.

  “Hey, Shamus,” Peaches says with seduction laced in my name.

  “Not now.”

  Her hands come to my shoulders where she begins to massage. The tension in them is noticeable, and her ministrations aren’t doing a damn thing to ease a single thing in my body.

  “Wound up tight, honey. Let me work out your ache,” she purrs.

  “Fuck off, Peaches.”

  She digs her thumbs hard into my neck.

  “You got one more opportunity to get your fuckin’ hands off me before I put your ass out.”

  “Just wanna have some fun,” she whines.

  “Look, got shit on my mind. Go. The. Fuck. Away.”

  She releases me and stomps off muttering, “And he was the nice one. So much for that.”

  My frustration only builds. I take a long pull from my beer as Lurch stands back leaning against the far wall smirking.

  “What’s got you wound so tight?” the old man asks, stroking his long beard he’s got in a braid. “Never mind, the look on your face says it all. Been a long damn time since you’ve had pussy problems, Shamus.”

  “You ever been so deep inside a woman you thought you wouldn’t find your way out?”

  He laughs, “Fuck yeah, I married her.”

  “That’s not an option here and hasn’t been for a long damn time.”

  He studies me. “You actually had someone that close before? Known you years now, brother, consider you a son. Never known you to have this kinda shit over pussy.”

  “Pussy is pussy until it’s that pussy, Lurch. Before the Rebels. Some would say we were young.” I take a pull on the beer. “Fuck, we were young, but couldn’t shake her then and can’t shake her now.”

  “She know it?”

  “Fuck no, and she won’t.”

  “A man’s ego is his greatest downfall,” Lurch says before pushing off the wall. “Got church in an hour, Shamus, see ya there.” He grips my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Don’t let your ego cost you the other piece to life.” He releases me to walk off. “Love,” is the final word as he leaves me alone in the bar area to my thoughts.

  “Drea, fucking talk to me,” I plead.

  “Nothing to talk about,” she huffs back. “This was a mistake, Austin. Never should’ve happened. I have dreams, Austin Fletcher. Big ones and they don’t have space for you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask as my world shatters into a million pieces all around me.

  “It means I don’t want to live my life married to a bagger at the grocery store with no desire to go to college and have a career.” There is disdain in her eyes, and I want to know what happened to the girl I fell in love with. The one who didn’t care about jobs or status, but the person inside. “I don’t want to stay in Granville. This isn’t where I belong.”

  “You think you’re better than me?”

  “Doesn’t matter what I think, Austin, I know how you really feel and what’s best for us both. Consider this my kiss of death,” she says on an evil smirk as she blows me a kiss and walks off.

  Ten years later and I still don’t have a fucking clue. The black widow of pussy, that sucked the life from my cock in the most delicious of ways, killed me for anyone else.

  Ten years and I still don’t have a fucking clue how to make my dick forget the best pussy it’s ever been in. Ten years later, and my heart still wants her, no matter the time, the distance, and the pain. Ten years later, and I wish I could make sense of it all.

  Finishing my beer, I toss the empty bottle in the garbage before heading to my room to shave. These fuckers may all want to have a five o’clock shadow or a full grown beard, but me I like for every asshole to watch my jaw tick and wonder when I’m gonna explode.

  Watch me, motherfuckers! If you’re not a Rebe
l then I’ve got not one damn loyalty to ya. Watch me, motherfucker, no shame in my game left to be had.

  Chapter 3

  Changes are constant, that’s the only thing that remains the same!

  “Thanks, Mom,” I call out, opening the door to her Subaru, feeling a bit helpless. I never realized how much I liked driving and taking myself from place to place independently. Losing that bit of myself isn’t sitting well for me. Four weeks, I’ve had my job at the paper and each of those days my mother has had to drive me and pick me up. Okay, there were a couple of days Kenderly dropped me off at home, but I still had to rely on someone. It’s been a little over seven months since the explosion, and my life still feels as unsettled as the building I was in that day.

  I need to find a doctor around here to talk to about if it’ll be possible for me ever to drive again. It’s a huge long shot, but I’ll take what I can get. Even if the doctor could give me a sliver of hope, that would be fantastic. Funny how things I took for granted before, I want more than anything to have back. Memory is a big one, too. I still can’t remember the time before and after the place exploded in Ukraine. It’s an entire section of my life, gone.

  The positive is my job. Mr. Collins has stuck to his word about keeping me at a desk. I’ve been able to write, and a small bit of that freedom I used to feel is coming back. I do admit that some of the stories are a bit on the uninteresting side, such as the winner of the pie-eating contest at the fair, but others are interesting and I’m enjoying it.

  Better yet, money. I’m able to pay for my own medications, therapies, which are dwindling, and have money left to help Mom pay the electric, gas, and mortgage. She’s been able to quit the pizza gig, and it feels good to take some of her weight off. I don’t make a ton at the paper, but enough to help.

  The disability paperwork came back with the denial letter. However, my doctors all say everyone gets denied the first time, which really makes me wonder why our system to help people is so messed up. I’ve submitted to a local attorney who specializes in disability. He says I need to file, not because of the money, but so I have everything in place for later down the road. I don’t know what the future holds for residual problems to grow. What if I lose my sight completely one day? I need to be prepared and have all of this handled. Since I do have a job, we are filing for partial disability so that I can keep my position at the Granville Journal Star, but have things in place should I ever need to switch to complete disability.

  “Hey, girl!” Kenderly calls as I walk into the building. Another positive is the friendship that I’ve built with her. Lunches, girl chats, and texts back and forth have been a lifeline for me. I’m not sure if she realizes how much I need those simple little things, but she keeps me around so I guess it’s good.

  “Hey, how was your date last night?” I sidle up to her desk while she smiles stupidly. I’m happy for her, though, she’s in love with Dixon, or DJ as he’s called now. She’s told me all about their sordid time finding each other and that DJ is a member of the Ruthless Rebels MC. It would make one awesome romance story, the lover of the written word inside me thinks as she recounts their time apart and finding their way back together.

  It’s fun living vicariously through her, in a way. It’s like writing, I can escape just for a bit before reality crashes again.

  “I wouldn’t call it a date. It was more of a have sex, go out to dinner and eat quick, come home and have sex again night.”

  Sex, hell I don’t even remember what it feels like it’s been so long. With my job at Ellis in Florida and then being hurt, it’s been way too long. Internally, I sigh.

  “Sounds fun.” I wiggle my eyebrows for effect which makes Kenderly laugh.

  “Oh, it was. DJ is a damn machine. If I didn’t feel so off kilter all the time, I’d be able to keep up. Lately, I’ve been off.”

  “You’re pregnant, woman. What’d you expect?”

  “Not so many changes, only being four months along.” She looks around, and I follow. People are here, but none of them are paying attention to us. “My nipples are sore all the time. My breasts are so heavy, and I feel sick to my stomach, like all the time.”

  “I’m pretty sure those are all things that are supposed to be happening.” I can’t help the laugh that escapes. “You may want to talk to the doctor.”

  “Oh, I have, but that doesn’t help.”

  “Woman, you’ve got five months to go. Better enjoy the sex now because that’ll be short lived once the baby comes.”

  She shakes her head. “No, DJ will take what he wants, when he wants, and I wouldn’t have him any other way.” She smiles proudly. “Having a man who isn’t afraid to say he wants you, it’s a turn on. The level of confidence, the desire, and the way everything is out on the table with DJ, it all works. I know where I stand with him. He doesn’t hold back. I love him for it.” I can’t help but smile with her that she has her happiness with him.

  My core clenches at the thought of a man taking what he wanted from me, yet giving me more than I could ever want in return.

  “Andrea!” Mr. Collins calls from the door to his office. “Need you!”

  “Guess it’s time to get to work.” I smile and turn.

  “Lunch today!” Kenderly calls out, and I flick my hand, thumbs up in the air in confirmation.

  The day flies by and before I know it, I’m sitting in a small sandwich shop about a block from the paper. We come here quite often because we can walk. Kenderly can drive, of course, but says she needs exercise in preparations for the baby. I’m not sure what exactly she has to get rid of on her body, but each woman has their own thing.

  “So, what are your plans for the weekend?” she asks me then takes a bite of her sandwich.

  My weekends are pretty much the same, helping Mom clean and do laundry in hopes that my vision will stay clear and my brain not hurt. Exciting life, I tell ya. I shrug before answering, “Same old same old. Just helping my mom around the house.”

  “Girl, we need to get you out and among some people.”

  Shaking my head, I set down my sandwich. “Right now, I’m fine with what I have.” How can I tell her that I fear seeing one man in this town? To have him look at me with such disdain, it’d break my heart all over again. They say time heals old wounds and I wish more than anything that was true. Going to Florida didn’t do it. A swanky new career didn’t do it. Now, back in Granville, I’d rather stay at my mom’s so there’s no chance of running into him.

  “No, you need to live and enjoy life. You’ve got a second chance at it.”

  I’d told her some about Ukraine, and with her eyes wide she listened intently. She also knows about my injury, my reasons for not driving, and the marbles rolling in my brain. She’s super easy to talk to, and it feels good getting all that out to her. Well, what I can remember to say. I still feel like there’s more that happened over there that I can’t wrap my head around. It’s hard when I only have bits and pieces of what’s happened to me. Things come and go. Luckily, Kenderly has been amazing at letting me randomly talk when a memory hits. Talking through them as they come seems to help me cement them back into my brain so I don’t forget all over again.

  “Right now, I’m good.” Am I? Really, I’m not so sure.

  Kenderly’s face lights up, and I look to the door. In struts DJ. He has dark hair like before only it’s a little shaggy but not overly grown out. His beard is well kept and only adds to the masculinity he carries. DJ has always been tall, but he’s filled out more with broad shoulders and a build that shows he isn’t sitting on his ass drinking beer all the time, like one might think of a motorcycle club member. He’s much different than I remember, but I’ve seen pictures of him on Kenderly’s phone so I know it’s him.

  My heart stops.

  My breaths leave.

  The world halts on its axis.

  Not because of DJ. No, it’s the man behind him. The hair that he would grow out to spike all over to then turn around and cut in
a short buzz. I loved to rub my hand over his head when it was short to feel the soft hairs against my palm. The dark eyebrows that only draw you in to get lost in the deep depths of his brown eyes that are looking directly at me right now.

  Austin Fletcher.

  The reason I left Granville and haven’t looked back. My insides twist as old feelings hit me hard in the gut, threatening to suck the life out of me. Kenderly hasn’t said anything about DJ still being close with Austin. But from the look of the leather on Austin, he’s a member of the same motorcycle club, Ruthless Rebels MC, that DJ’s in.

  Shit. Shit. Shit!

  “Well, I’ll be damned, look who’s back from experiencing the world?” Austin says, and I can feel my heart bleeding. “Heard about it, didn’t think it was true. Guess the trailer park telephone system of gossip still is reliable.”

  I avoid meeting his eyes at all costs even as I feel them watching my every move. He can read me like no other person ever has. Even after all these years, I have no doubt he can now. “Austin.” It’s the only thing I can muster to get out.

  “Wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be, huh, Drea? Or you couldn’t handle the heat of real life?”

  His words cut through me with a serrated blade. Just like before. His words and the power they have to shred me. I close my eyes and breathe in deep. No. I’ve been through too much. He’s the one who should hurt seeing me, not the other way around. He did this. He did this to us, to what we had. Pulling deep within myself, the anger from that time in my life comes back. I cling to it like a lifeline and rise from my chair leaving my half eaten lunch.

  “You didn’t know me then, Austin Fletcher, and you damn sure don’t know me now.” I brush passed him needing to get away, needing to escape.

  “Go ahead and run, it’s what you’re best at. Maybe you didn’t know me then, Andrea Davies, and I promise you, baby, you couldn’t handle the man I am now.” I pause only briefly at the door. Run away. That’s what he wanted.