Swerve’s Blind Curve (Horsemen of Wrath MC #3)

Chapter 1

I should’ve known none of them would listen to me.

I’d been telling my best friends that I didn’t want a big deal made out of it.

Scorpion, my oldest and best friend, and his old lady, Paige, had told me they would tell the others.

They either didn’t, or the rest of the club ignored them, or, as the most likely option, they all conspired together. I could totally see them doing that.

I wasn’t angry with them. It was more that I was hesitant to dwell on why we were celebrating.

Unlike the other members in this room, I hadn’t taken two years or less to gain my membership, don the cut, and get my road name, Swerve.

For me, it had been a battle lasting thirteen years and one that almost killed me, literally and figuratively.

The figurative kind had been more than once.

Depression could be a bitch on the rag, with a man-hater mentality.

It was out to destroy you as messily as possible.

I let that monster sink its teeth into me more than a few times, but luckily, I fought free. It was an ongoing fight.

I had to live with the visual and physical reminder of why it took so long to join the club I had dreamed of since I was a kid.

The reason was right in front of me daily.

For me, if I wanted to get from point A to point B, I had to use my wheelchair, a specially adapted van, or a bike.

I had a choice of wheelchairs to add variety.

When at home, I typically stuck to the old hand-push kind.

When I went out, like when I came to the clubhouse tonight, I sometimes chose the electric one.

When I had been hit by that car and left a paraplegic, I thought my life was over. Surviving the surgery hadn’t been a win in my mind. I hated for a while that I hadn’t died. Everyone telling me that I could still live a full and fantastic life only made my depression and anger worse.

As time passed, especially in that first year, I became increasingly withdrawn and angry.

I wallowed in my fury and misery. I hated the world and myself.

My dad, Moondog, and the others in the club tried their best to elevate my spirits, but they were grieving, too, just in a different way.

Scorpion had taken it the worst. Only I never knew how deep it went, how guilty he felt, or that he still blamed himself and had made the supposed driver of the car that hit me miserable as payback.

It wasn’t until Paige Worthy returned to St. Augustine last year, and we met under surprising circumstances, that the whole story came out. Scorpion had major guilt that he hadn’t gone riding that night instead of meeting some chick and nailing her. Something he’d been trying to do for six months.

When he told me what he had planned that night, I sent him off on his bike, wishing him good luck and asking for details when he returned.

I decided to ride alone that night. I thought it was my fault for being on the road, in the dark, without reflective clothing, when a teenager was driving, which caused the accident.

It wasn’t until Paige confessed the truth that we discovered we didn’t know the half of it.

I’d long ago forgiven the inexperienced teenage girl for hitting me.

She was a kid, and we all did stupid stuff when we were her age.

Scorpion and I had, and it was only by chance that we hadn’t hurt someone or ourselves.

When you’re that age, you think you’re invincible.

However, Scorpion hadn’t forgiven Paige or himself.

When he recognized her in my hospital room that day, he’d lost it.

His anger and vendetta against her raged for a short while.

He wouldn’t hear anything I said. It wasn’t until he got her fired from her nursing job that I chewed him a new ass and told him to stop, that he backed off.

And then he had to do damage control. Scorpion apologized to Paige and promised that he’d get her job back.

No surprise, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with him and hadn’t believed him.

Who could blame her for not being sure if she would forgive his past and present ugliness toward her?

The revelation, later, after they became a couple, that she hadn’t driven the car, was shocking.

The fact that it had been her drunk older brother had pissed us off.

Paige had been forced to take the blame by her parents and had been blackmailed into it with a sickening threat.

In the end, her dad and brother deserved what they got.

Her mom—well, maybe she got off easy. Only time would tell if she had.

With the clearing of the lies, forgiveness occurring, and Paige becoming Scorpion’s old lady, my long-awaited, never-happening dream came true.

It took thirteen years, but I became a Horseman and earned my cut, along with a tricked-out motorcycle that allowed me to ride, feel the wind on my face, and experience true freedom.

And I had my trusted companion at my side for most of those.

The club not only purchased the specialty bike and a sidecar for me, but I also received a service dog named Dozer.

He was a massive Cane Corso who no one wanted due to his size. They were afraid of him.

I wasn’t ashamed to admit it was love at first sight when they showed him to me.

I thought Scorpion and Paige had gotten a second dog to be a companion to their dog, Fenrir.

Astonishment filled me when they explained what he was and that he was mine.

Dozer was not only loving and a great helper for me, but he could be counted on, if necessary, to be my protection dog.

His protective instincts were fierce. Only a fool would think to fuck with the crippled guy with Dozer around.

If ordered, Dozer would maul them to death.

So, while I loved that we were all gathered at the club on Friday night, as we typically did, I was slightly uncomfortable because the focus was on me.

Two days ago marked the first anniversary of my patching into the club.

Everyone seemed happy I’d made it and wanted to mark the occasion.

I wouldn’t be petty and act upset or grumble about it.

Well, no grumbling other than to my two best friends, Scorpion and Paige.

That was another thing I gained that I hadn’t expected.

I’d become best friends with a woman, and she was like a sister to me.

I was an only child. Having both of your best friends married to each other was a unique experience.

Sometimes, I felt I encroached on their personal time, but both were quick to assure me that I wasn’t.

I made them promise to tell me if I did.

The common room was packed. No one had missed this.

All the members were here, as well as our prospects, the two old ladies we had so far, Diablo’s daughter, Jaycee, and his son, Chasin.

They were the only kids here in the club.

When Diablo’s adult daughter, Brooklyn, visited with her family, we had Diablo’s grandkids—his grandsons, Thane and Jai, and the newest addition, his granddaughter, Eden, who had joined the family nine months prior.

Yeah, Diablo had started over from scratch on his second chance, and he loved every minute of it.

Dozer, Fenrir, and the newest dog to join after Dozer, Isis, were nosing around the room, though Dozer would frequently come over to check on me or have his eyes on me across the room.

If commanded, he’d stay right at my side, but I felt that wasn’t necessary here or at home.

The three dogs loved to play and hang out, and Dozer liked to keep an eye on the kids.

While I was happy that Diablo and Scorpion had found wonderful women to be their old ladies, and I prayed for the same to happen with my other club brothers, it left me feeling lonely and depressed.

I wanted the same thing. I had the exact needs and desires as men with the use of all four of their limbs.

I’d been lucky not to lose my ability to have sex, but sometimes I wish I had.

Then I wouldn’t exist in this half-land of hope.

It was discouraging to have to take care of your needs alone or resort to having sex with women who had no genuine desire to get to know you or be with you for more than a night or two.

A few would stay longer, but in all those cases, no one had seriously wanted to be with a disabled man for the rest of their lives.

They did it out of curiosity. Did my cock work the same?

Or they wanted to give poor me a treat. Or the last one, which was worse, they had some kind of sick attraction to sex with paraplegics.

Those women didn’t care about the person, just my disability.

Was it any wonder I had been sticking to pleasuring myself?

Sure, there were club sluts who would let me fuck them. It was their job. However, that held no appeal for me. The hangers-on who came to party with us were typically in one of the other categories.

As much as I told myself I would never find someone who would love the man I was, with all my limitations, and not see my wheelchair, the fact that I couldn’t walk, or have sex in every position under the sun, there was a tiny remaining kernel of hope. I wish it would die and leave me in peace.

I was yanked out of my head by the approach of Diablo’s daughter, Jaycee, and her dog, Isis, who was just over a year old.

Jaycee got her when she was eight weeks old.

She’d jumped and clapped so hard when her parents presented her with the puppy, which made everyone laugh and cheer.

She was the cutest thing, and her smile made you smile, no matter how grumpy or pissed off you may be.

She’d be seven years old in a few months.

Since Diablo and his old lady Jauhnna had first fostered and then adopted her, Jaycee had blossomed into a happy child.