Outlaw's Wrath - An MC Brotherhood Romance Boxed Set (2 page)

She licked her bottom lip. Fear skidded along her nerves. It was a scary concept, a foreign  one, but somehow the little ray of hope that Lyle offered made her yearn for freedom.

She wanted it.

It was time to make a try.

“I will do it,” she said.

“Great.” Lyle stood. He wore his clothes. “Two days from now. Just make your way to the train station at sharp five o’clock and leave the rest up to me.”

Taking out his wallet, he handed her the money along with a tip. “You could do so much better than this, Gabby.”

Yes, she could! And she wanted to try. For the second time in her life, Gabby was going to run away – and this time, she hoped that she would end up at a much better place. It was time to bid goodbye to this hovel and start all over again. And perhaps this time, she would find a slice of heaven.

It was all that she hoped for: freedom and choices.

CHAPTER TWO

As she wiped the counter, Gabby’s head nodded to the music that blared out of the speakers. Three weeks ago, she escaped from Joseph’s clutches and ended up at Hell Brigade MC, the motorcycle club that offered her sanctuary. Bikers sat around table and the women served them. This was a good life, much better than what she lived ever since she was a child.

And perhaps things would change for the better when she found a job.

“Hey! Ronald wants a beer,” said Ronald’s Old Lady, Willow.

It didn’t take her long to learn the lingo of the club. An old lady was the exclusive properties of one biker, while sweet butts were the women who were available for the entire club. Hell Brigade was an organized, successful club with fifty-two members. Not all of them lived in the clubhouse, which was mostly used by singles. Gabby did the cooking and the cleaning with three other women – and of course, they all serviced the men whenever they were needed.

But soon, she would be out of this and on to fresh beginnings.

After she delivered the beer, Gabby came back to the bar. “So what time are you leaving tomorrow?” asked Willow.

“Nine in the morning,” she replied. “I have three interviews.”

Willow’s smile was kind. Her caramel, dark skin glowed as she gazed at Gabby. “Good luck, girl. You’ll need it. And I hope you can find someone.”

“I am keeping my fingers crossed.”

Without education, Gabby couldn’t get any jobs that required complicated skills, but she would settle for waitressing or other cleaning work. As long as she made a living honestly, she didn’t much care what she did. Quickly, she served the bikers. When they all staggered off, she crawled into her own warm bed, alone for the night. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was a blessing. Since she was pretty and new, she didn’t lack male attention – but there was never any forced sex. If she said no, it was taken well. Although Gabby felt so grateful to them for giving her a chance that she never felt like refusing anyone’s advances. It was the least she could do after they gave her protection, shelter, food, and even some weekly cash for her basic needs. 

In return, she could warm their beds.

But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to look for other opportunities. The next day, at eight sharp, she left the clubhouse. For the first two weeks, Gabby rarely left the clubhouse for fear that Joseph might be looking for her. But now she felt a little safer. The clubhouse was a clean, clapboard building on the fringes of the town. The common areas and kitchen were all located downstairs while there were six bedrooms on the first floor. She was assigned a room which she often shared with a man who wanted company for the night. In return for sex and cleaning, she got a lot in exchange. And she was free to go anytime she chose. No one kept her on the clock, locked her in the room, or accompanied her outside. Freedom was sweet – but it would be sweeter when she got a good job and shifted to her own place.

The first interview was at a small Mom and Pop style restaurant. There were two people ahead of her and more walked in as she waited. How difficult could waitressing be? She would learn soon enough. With bated breath, she waited to be called in.

When she was summoned inside to face the matronly woman who was interviewing everyone, she felt a little more confident. The woman, part-owner of the restaurant, had soft, hazel eyes. She looked kind. “Good morning.”

“Sit down, dear. Did you bring a resume?”

Embarrassment flooded through her. “Huh? I didn’t know...sorry...I...”

“Never mind, dear. Most people forget to bring one. It’s not really necessary for this job. So what waitressing experience do you have?”

Gabby blinked her eyes. This wasn’t going as well as she expected. “I cook and clean at a clubhouse right now. And I serve too.”

“Club house?”

“It’s...a biker’s club.” She wasn’t supposed to give a lot of information. The club indulged in activities that weren’t strictly legal, and one of their only rules was that any person who sought their protection not divulge anything related to their work.

The woman raised an eyebrow. Clearly, she wasn’t impressed with Gabby’s place of work. “Any other relevant experiences?”

“I...” Stripping in a club wasn’t something she wanted to disclose. “I would learn really fast. If you want, I could do free work for a few days so you can see how I do things.”

The lady’s smile was a little strained. “Alright, dear. Why don’t you leave your number here, and if I need, I will give you a call.”

Knowing that she was dismissed, Gabby stood. No way was she ever getting that call. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. But she didn’t have any reason to complain. They were clearly looking for someone with more experience, and she didn’t have it.

It was a major setback, but all was not lost.

Perhaps the next interview would be better. She shuffled out of the restaurant and walked towards the next place. Taking out a piece of paper from her purse, she looked down at the next address. The second place was a bookshop in the mall and they needed a sales assistant. She could do that easily enough. Surely, there weren’t many requirements to point people in the right direction of a book. Although she never finished school, Gabby was an avid reader and often bought secondhand books to pass time.

Feeling slightly better about her future prospects, Gabby marched along the pavement. She could have taken a bus but it was only three blocks, and it wouldn’t hurt to save her money. When she reached the mall, Gabby stepped gratefully into the cool air-conditioned environment. Her jaw gaped open at the sight of the fancy shops and the fine clothing that were worn by the mannequins. This was a world she didn’t know all that well. When she worked for Joseph, she never had the chance to spend time at such places. She was always working, and whenever she wanted to buy something, she wasn’t allowed to go out of his territory. But now, if she got a job here, she could work in such a nice place.

It would be so pleasant to come here each day.

She wanted the job with a desperation that clawed at her insides.

Gabby entered the bookshop. Walking over to the counter, she fixed her long, black skirt, and adjusted the collar of her white blouse. These were the only nice pieces of clothing she owed. But if she got this job, she would be able to afford other things. Hope flared through her, bright and sharp.

“Hi. I am here for the job interview.”

The man who manned the counter barely glanced at her. “The door to your right. Go in.”

She gulped, took a deep breath, and marched towards the door. It was a small, cramped office and a man sat behind a desk. “Yes?”

“I was told to come in for the interview.”

“Sit down.” He gestured and continued typing on the laptop. “Just give me five minutes. I’ve got to fill these forms or else I will miss the deadline.”

“Sure.” Would she be required to work on a laptop? She didn’t know anything about computers. Gabby hadn’t even finished school. Pimps didn’t give education that much importance, and of course, there was always the threat of pesky social workers and teachers who could make reports. Any young girl who was caught in the net of prostitution never set foot in an educational facility again.

This life was so different than the one she saw for the past fourteen years.

He closed the laptop. “Here we go. Ok. May I see your resume?”

Shit! She should have thought this through. It was silly of her assume that she wouldn’t need any paperwork. “Sorry, I didn’t bring it.”

Looking a bit flustered, he picked up a paper and pen. “No problem. You can email it to me later today. What’s your name?”

Email? What the hell was that?

“Gabby Ward.”

“And how old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

He beamed. “That’s a good age for the job. You will be required to do stacking and filing, and older women get tired. Our last sales assistant was very efficient but she had to leave because her husband got transferred elsewhere. So what’s your level of your education?”

“Huh?”

He waved his hand. “High school? Diploma? Undergrad?”

Gabby shook her head. She resisted the urge to chew her bottom lip. “No! I...I dropped out of school at a really young age.”

He put the pen down, looking a little irritated. “Oh, dear. I am afraid you’re not the ideal candidate. We are looking for someone who is a bit...knowledgeable. Our customers expect the sales assistant to know about books, to have read some of them, and to be generally more...”

Upmarket?
Gabby pressed her lips together. It wasn’t his fault. She shouldn’t have assumed that it would be so easy to get a job. “Thank you.” She stood.

When she marched out, Gabby couldn’t help but admire the cool, swanky places she saw in the mall. If she’d worked here, her life would have been so much better. But she simply didn’t have the right qualifications. Taking out the paper again, she checked the third address. It was only two blocks away. Once again, she marched in her high heels, in the sweltering hot and humid air, towards the last interview. When she reached the neon-green board on the upscale building, Gabby paused.

It was a strip club. Sure, it was a classy place. The money would be good. But sooner or later, she would be expected to earn on her back, and then she would get ensnared into the vicious cycle of pimps and prostitutes again. She dared not risk it. After making her escape, she preferred to work in a place where at least she had the option to say no. Here, she would have to do the work that she was good at, but in which she could never open her mouth to speak. The bikers also expected her to lie down on her back and service them, but if she ever said no, there were no repercussions, no fights. She was a free person.

And her freedom was more important than quick cash.

Gabby turned away. Feeling more than desperate and gloomy, she went back to the clubhouse. After walking into her room, she changed into her old jeans and a green, plain t-shirt.

Was there no hope for someone like her?

Would she never get an opportunity to right the wrong that was done to her?

Was she destined to spend her life, giving men a slice of heaven, while they humped over her?

All the hope that sparkled in her heart ever since she started reading the newspapers to get some information about her job prospects faded. She didn’t have anything else to do. Sure, she could keep reading newspapers, go for interviews, but without an education and relevant experiences, her chances were zero. And that was just plain fact. 

It was better to accept it and move on.

After walking downstairs, she began to wash the dishes that were lined up in the sink. “Hey, it’s not your turn.” Willow marched over. “What happened at the interviews?”

“Nothing much.” Her voice was dull, listless. “They all wanted someone who had either a college degree or a relevant experience in a decent place. And you know me, I am just a loser.”

“Don’t put yourself down, dear. You’re a gem.” Willow ran a hand over her hair. “You will get your chance.”

Would she?

Gabby doubted it.

She washed her hands and dried them on the towel. There was no point clinging to hope. “No, I won’t. I am a lost cause, Willow. No one is ever going to give me a job. I am good for nothing.”

“No, you are not.” Willow hugged her. “And don’t you dare say something about my best girl, do you hear?”

Best girl?
She wasn’t anyone’s best girl. And never would be. Her life was a mess, and it would never be happy and bright.

“You listen to Willow, girl. She always gives the right advice,” said a low, throaty voice.