
Harley (Rage MC: The Prospects #9)
Prologue.
December 2022.
Oakley
P anic welled in my gut as Mom fussed around me.
I didn’t want this.
She pulled out the full skirt of my wedding dress and fluffed it out. Behind me, the four bridesmaids squealed and chirped happily, as if this was their special day.
No, I certainly did not wish for this.
“Could I have a moment?” I whispered.
“Girls, give Oakley five minutes,” Mom said, and the bridesmaids left.
Mom stared at me, reached up, and pinched my upper arm. “Don’t shame me. Be a good girl.” Her voice was full of warning.
Fuck that. Right there, I wanted to roll around and scream my heart out. The urge to tear this fucking dress off and rip it into tiny shreds welled. What would Mom do if I smeared the makeup on my face and bit the false nails off? Slap me stupid, no doubt—and go fetch my father.
I flinched at the thought.
“Oakley,” Mom hissed, and I nodded.
I did not dare gaze at the drawer where my lifeline was. “I need a minute, Mom. Please,” I begged softly.
“Fine. I’ll be right outside the door, Oakley,” Mom warned and left the room. I didn’t question for a second that she meant it. As far as my parents were concerned, I was already wed to Bronson. I was his property, and this was a formality.
Taking the one precious minute, I opened the drawer and grabbed the package. Grunting, I hefted up the full skirt and shoved the bulky envelope up it. There was no way I’d be able to get it down my bodice, and I daren’t hook it to the garter belt. Huffing and puffing, I managed to wedge the package under the waistline and secure it against my stomach.
With a deep sigh of relief, I dropped the skirt.
Now, I just had to flee.
Mom stormed back in before I could think about a plan. “It’s time,” she announced coldly.
Anxiously, I nodded. How on earth was I going to escape? Even if I said no at the altar, Reverend Jeffery was Bronson’s father. He’d not listen to a no.
Mom dragged me from the room, and I began shaking.
Christ, I didn’t want this. I’d rather die.
Dad was waiting, and he slipped my hand onto his arm and clenched it tightly.
I winced in pain. That was a warning to behave.
The silly girls got into pairs and stood in front of me and Dad, and then I saw my chance. Amelia… Bronson’s cousin’s dress was slightly too long. Slyly, I edged forward a little and placed my foot on it. Amelia began walking, and there was a tearing noise as her dress ripped and Amelia skipped a step, losing her balance.
Instantly, Amelia grabbed the girl next to her, and they both went down.
I let out a cry as they collapsed backwards and let go of Dad, who was reaching for them. The second girl clutched one in front of her, and before anyone could blink, Dad was pinned under three women.
Without hesitation, I slipped my shoes off, hitched up the skirts, and ran.
Shouts came from behind me.
I didn’t pause as I raced down the corridor towards the exit of the church. Like a missile, I burst through the double wooden doors and pelted for the street. Mom screamed my name, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.
Unluckily for my family, I ran as a hobby, and I could run damn fast. However, tragically, I was barefoot, and the stones were cutting up my feet. But I would rather that, than marry Bronson.
I hit the street where the driveway smoothed out into pavement and looked around for help.
A lone bike headed my way, and I leapt into the road and waved my arms. The biker slowed and skidded to a stop, so I raced forward, leaving bloody footprints.
Not risking a refusal, I gathered up the big, frothy mess I wore and jumped on the back of the bike.
“Go! Before they kill me!” I screamed.
The biker looked at me and then at the driveway from where I had emerged. The Harley revved and roared off just as Bronson, Reverend Jeffery, and Dad appeared.
“Keep that shit clear of the wheels, or you’ll be pulled off,” the biker yelled over his shoulder.
“Thank you!” I called as I gripped the bike with my thighs and gathered all the frothy lace, silk, and satin up tightly. Sighing, I laid my head on his back.
I honestly didn’t care if this was a good or bad guy. He was a damn hero for stopping.