Authors: Harley McRide
Tags: #contemporary, #Erotic, #Menage, #MCs & Bikers, #Romance, #New Age
When she dug deeper, she found the sale of the house only a year after she ran away, but didn’t find any records of another purchase. She hadn’t cared at the time, she just laughed and moved on, figuring her stepfather had killed her mother because Shady ran away. Asswipe always blamed her when Shady acted out. Of course her mother blamed her every single time, but who cared now. Shady kicked herself for not keeping closer tabs on them. At least to find out if they were alive.
“Shay, come on, you can’t stay in there forever, it's been two days,” Harmony said firmly.
Shady looked up in surprise, it had been two days? Hmmm, she would have argued that it was just last night that she had jerked up in bed, woken once again from a nightmare. The same one she always woke up from, except it wasn’t a nightmare—it was her reality. And Harmony had helped her get through the first one. Then when it resurfaced again, she'd gotten up and started her search. Well, guess her ass had been searching for information longer than what she thought.
The only thing she could think of after being woke up yet again with her fucked up past was at least she hadn't been in the clubhouse; she had been in her new room in Creed and Fork’s house. Thank God for small favors. She was in no way ready to explain things, they already knew too much, and she didn’t feel like having a therapy session—again.
Nope, she was going to stay in here as long as she fuckin' wanted, because if she went out there, they would continue to drive her crazy. She would rather hide than to have to kill one of her closest friends. And she was so there at the killing thing too, she didn’t want to have to explain to the authorities that she killed them for being overly nice.
“No,” Shady yelled and turned back to her computer. She heard whispering and then suddenly her bedroom door burst open. Harmony stood in the doorway with a sledgehammer, grinning, while Freedom at least had the decency to look ashamed. “Bitch,” Shady yelled, stood, and stormed over to the door, looking down at the hole now there. “You are fixing that shit.”
“Yeah, yeah, and I am a bitch, deal with it,” Harmony said, rolling her eyes. “But I am a worried bitch. Damn it, you can’t stay locked up in here forever.”
Shady growled and leaned back against the wall, blocking them from fully coming into the room. “I am not, I just need to sort some shit out. I don’t need everyone fucking watching me.”
Harmony raised her eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
Shady rolled her eyes, turned and pointed to the huge bandage that was still on her upper chest above her breast and setting below her right shoulder.
“This is not attractive,” Shady growled. “Every single time I walk through the fucking clubhouse, the guys wince and the bitches jump up to fucking get me something. It is driving me bat shit crazy. No one is acting fucking normal.”
“Normal?” Freedom laughed. “Shay, remember when I came home from the hospital?”
Shady groaned and nodded. She did know what her friend was talking about, because Freedom had almost been killed by the Diablos and when she was convalescing, everyone hovered over her. She knew in her head they meant well, but it didn’t matter, she wasn’t fucking used to people wanting to take care of her, she was the one who took care of people.
“Yeah, well…I don’t need people staring at me like I am helpless,” Shady grumbled.
“I know two guys that don’t stare at you, well, maybe stare, but it is more like you are their next meal,” Harmony snorted.
“Fuck off,” Shady said.
“What, you know I am right. Just fucking admit it.” Freedom smiled.
Shady walked away and sat down again, ignoring her friends as they chattered on about Slider and Cajun. Maybe if she ignored them they would go away. After about ten minutes she heard Freedom squeal, and yes, squeal like a fuckin' girl.
“Oh! Look who is back,” Free said, looking out the window, causing Shady to frown, and the sounds from outside reached her ears—bikes.
“Bow chicka wow wow,” Harmony said when she joined Free and they both watched out the window. “They are fucking fine.”
“Kill me now,” Shady groaned and put her head on the desk. “Female bonding sucks.”
Chapter One
Shady didn't know how long she sat there after Free and Harmony finished being big pains in her ass but she needed to clear her head, and only one way would do it for her. She needed to ride, it was the only thing that would help.
No matter what anyone said, her job was not something that defined her. She was a stripper and proud of it, but it was only something she did because she liked it. Yes, it sounded weird, and therapists could completely have a hay day trying to figure out her thinking, but she didn’t give a fuck. When she was on the stage, it was not about men seeing her body and jerking off in their heads about her. No, it was about control, she showed what she wanted—when she wanted. No one touched her unless she gave permission, which she rarely did, and no one—and I mean no one—told her what to do. The guys watched out for her because they cared, she got that, but they didn’t tell her what to do. She loved music, loved being around it day in and day out, each day being different. Sometimes she felt country, sometimes she felt rock and roll, but she always felt the beat.
Shady wasn’t ashamed to tell people what she did, who gave a fuck. Women who glared at her or looked down on her would do the exact same thing even if they didn’t know she was a stripper, so fuck them. She probably made more money than their old men in a week. Of course, she was also part owner of the mine but who cared, that money all went to her passion. Biking. It was all she needed when she was feeling trapped, like right now.
She stood and went to her closet. Her leather jacket and chaps were waiting. With a slight smile, she pulled out her jeans and a thermal shirt; it would be chilly but she loved it, the breeze nipping at you as you fly down the road was an experience not easily explained. It had to be lived. She tied her long black hair into her hair glove and then put on her leathers along with her riding boots. When she was done, she grabbed the keys to her Harley Davidson and walked quickly out the door.
There she was, Beauty, that was her name and she was the reason Shady got up most mornings, because she belonged to her—the 2013 Harley Davidson Custom Sportster. The tank looked like swirling smoke surrounded by the Ops Warriors insignia and she'd recently added the Lady Warriors insignia as well; black, blues, and greens burst on the top of her tank, reminding her what it meant. To her it meant family, because they were the only ones she claimed. They had saved her when she was at her lowest, and for
that,
she would always be loyal to them.
Her seat was perfect for her, she slid her leg over the bike, and sighed, Beauty was her solace, her calm in any storm. When she rode, nothing mattered, not even the shit that was her life. She reached up and gripped her handlebars, they were cushioned with the same blue and green colors that were on the tank, but at the end there were spikes, the guys teased her that they looked like a painful dildo, she had them installed in case one of them pissed her off. She flicked on the power and her LED blue and green lights lit up around her. With a grin and a flick of her wrist, she felt the engine roar to life under her. Shady closed her eyes and just allowed Beauty to comfort her with her vibrations. She revved the engine a few times before she opened her eyes and slowly pushed off. Nothing felt better.
The wind caught her with a frigid blast and she didn’t feel a thing after the first initial shock. How could she, Beauty was taking her away to another place, a place she was at peace, somewhere no one could touch her.
Shady pulled out onto the open highway, it was laid right in front of the three—mile driveway that led to the Ops club. She'd went through the gates a mile back. The Prospect on duty waved and opened the gate when they saw her coming. Thank fuck, 'cause she was not in the mood to have to speak with anyone.
Making sure there was no one else on the road, Shady took off. Maybe she would find the answer she needed with this ride, because she knew she couldn’t keep going on like this.
There was too much shit to think about but she had to. The guys didn’t know what they were dealing with, she did—she'd lived it. Her prick of a stepbrother
was not
the head of this shit, no matter what it looked like. It had to be her stepfather, and she sincerely hoped her mother knew none of this, although she knew more than likely she didn’t, it was still possible since she was living in the same house with him. Well, unless she was dead.
At one time Shady had thought she would be able to get her mother out, but it was hopeless to get someone out of a shitty situation when they refused to acknowledge something was wrong.
For the first year she had been on the run, it had been shit, living on the streets, trying to make due with stealing food and working day jobs for money. Hell, she had even found another street kid named Robby so people wouldn’t know she was on her own, but that proved to be a fucking mess. The kid had wanted more from her than what she wanted to give, and they had parted ways, which was right before she met Creed.
Hell, she was still surprised that Creed had stopped and helped her, and was even more surprised that after she'd kicked him in the nuts, he hadn't thrown her back on the streets. Never once had she thought about letting someone close to her. Bikes were the only things she absolutely needed. She refused to admit she needed the Warriors and had needed the family connection for years. Now she would do anything for them—even kill.
Knowing her fucking stepbrother was in the area was
so
not okay. She was going to kill him, she always knew when he found her it would come to this, only one of them would walk away. It was damn sure going to be her—or no one at all.
She'd never forget that day a month ago when the fucking asshole appeared in front of them in the parking lot. Cocksucker had been so sure of himself then.
“Do you know what really pisses me off?” he'd asked her and Harmony as they were walking back to Bitches from the car.
They'd froze but then she turned, and answered coldly. “Fuck you.”
“Women who don’t know their place,” the asswipe had said and laughed. “What makes you think you could ever have beaten me.”
“Well, Dom,” she sneered and Harmony had jumped, which Shady figured was due to her realizing that she knew the man standing behind them pointing a gun. Shady felt her mind tense as she realized they had no weapons to use quickly, their only gun was in Harm’s purse. “You would know everything about women—
riiight
, because you have held onto yours?”
Dom had grinned and Harmony had shivered, Shady knew what she was seeing, because she saw the same man in her nightmares every time she closed her eyes. He was scary, and not scary-hot-biker-dude, he was scary-freaking-psycho-dude. His black hair looked exactly like hers, and even his eyes were the same ice blue color, the difference was Shady's showed signs of life in hers, where Dom's were dead. He was tall and thin, and if everyone met him on the street when he was wearing his black silk suit, they would have thought he was a businessman. Not her, not seeing him with a gun in his hand; Harmony, on the other hand, had probably figured they'd just met the guy who was behind all of the shit, but she would be wrong.
“Francesca, you never should have run away,” then Dom had laughed.
Harmony frowned and looked at her, and she knew she grimaced, causing Harm to say, “Wait, Francesca? Your name is Francesca?”
Shady laughed and smiled at Harmony, trying to lighten the situation, “Yeah, I kinda changed that right away, you know how embarrassing it is to have the nickname Franny? It sucked when I was young.”
“Well yeah,” Harmony agreed with her. “I mean, torture, Franny, ugh…I can’t even say it without thinking of an old lady with ugly underwear.”
“I know right.” Shady laughed.
She'd known then what Harmony was doing. Harmony had slowly moved so she was turned to Shady's side, her purse was hidden then, and she was moving her hand slowly to find her gun. Dom hadn't noticed, keeping his shit talk up.
“Shut up,” he'd growled. “I am thinking you are not appreciating your position.”
Harmony then took a turn to answer, “Because we aren’t, nothing you can do will stop the shit storm coming your way, asshole. Coming onto Warriors' property has signed your death warrant.”
Dominic Reyes was a prick and Shady knew it so when he smiled and shook his head, replying to Harm, she wasn't shocked. “Little girl, I am safe as I would be if I were at my own house." Then the fucker had turned to her, "Too bad you will not be around to actually see your friends die, oh, and when you see him in hell, let him know I am sorry I missed out on the family reunion.”
He'd laughed and looked over his shoulder and when she and Harm had followed his gaze, they'd noticed the backdoor had been chained and someone or something was pushing to get out. She'd figured the front door was probably the same way. At that exact moment, was when she'd known for certain she was going to kill the motherfucker.
She could still hear Harmony using her name, “Franny.”
Shady had replied using the name they'd picked for Harmony, "Yeah, Spork.”
It was then that Harm decided to ask her, “Who is this?” And fuck, she really hadn't wanted anyone to know, but she'd answered her anyway.
“My brother, Dominic Reyes III,” then she'd spit on the ground to get rid of the taste his name left on her tongue before adding, “the fucking bastard who ruined my life.”
The rest had happened fast after that little announcement. Harmony had said, “Shit,” and pulled the gun from her purse and turned to fire.
Dom though had been prepared. Shady felt the burn and knew Harmony had felt the same when two shots were fired, a bullet entering each of their bodies, then Harm had reached for her.
Shady would have loved to add that day to her list of bad ones but in reality, it didn't even come close. She throttled her bike hard and took off down the road, she needed to forget, she needed her head cleared, but most of all—she needed fucking revenge.