CHAPTER ONE
I was humming along to the tune on the radio as we headed home after another of our monthly dinners together; when Dad’s phone buzzed, and he answered through the Bluetooth in the car. Turning my head to stare at the darkness outside, tuning out his conversation with whoever it was on the other end until they mentioned clean up.
My head jerked in my dad’s direction, noticing the tightness in his jaw.
“Send me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he tells the caller before promptly hanging up.
I sensed the conflict in his gaze as it met mine. His brain was working a mile a minute, trying to figure out what to do about me.
We were at least ten minutes away from the home I shared with my mom. Dad had moved out when they split up when I was ten, leaving mom the house.
They’d split up because of his job. He worked with the police and coroner cleaning up crime scenes, but he would also take jobs on the DL for Kon Sokolov, who was based in Dallas, a few hours away, and the Devil’s Carnage MC who’s home-base was here in Briar Creek, both the more profitable proposition.
He didn’t know that I knew he worked for them, but my mother wasn’t happy about it, and that’s the reason they didn’t work out, she gave him an ultimatum to stop taking jobs for the underworld; he refused because it paid good money, so she up and left, taking me with her. Though I suspect a part of it was that my mom was a raging bitch. I lived with the woman 24/7. I should know.
The fact he did that kind of job at all didn’t bother me. In fact, I found it fascinating and something I wanted to do after graduating from school. All my friends thought I was crazy, but I didn’t care. I was going to follow in my father’s footsteps.
His phone dinged, showing the message was from whoever he spoke to earlier, causing his brow to furrow in a deep frown when he saw the address.
“It’s only five minutes from here,” he spoke to himself. Even though it was early evening, it got dark earlier since it was late Fall.
Briar Creek was small, yet it had clearly defined affluent suburbs and less prosperous areas. My father must”ve resolved the battle within himself because instead of taking me home, we drove to the address the caller gave him, arrived in less than a few minutes, parked the car, and then he got out.
The house had peeling paint on the dirty gray siding. Weeds grew in place of the flowers that used to be in the beds against the wall of the house, and there was no front lawn to speak of. Telling me this was the more unsavory part of town.
The six Harley Davidson motorbikes parked out front weren’t out of place, but no one would ever question why they were even here. Bending down, he looked me in the eye, a no nonsense look about him.
“Stay in the car and lock the doors,” he orders. “Do not get out under any circumstances.” I open my mouth, but promptly shut it, as the look in his eyes brooks no argument.
How did our father-daughter dinner turn out so badly? Watching him walk away. I shiver, even though I was warm in my faux fur-lined jacket.
I should’ve told him I was busy and instead gone to my friend Emma’s for a sleepover like she’d invited me. But I wanted to see him because I missed him. He’d cancelled a few of our dinners in the past because of his work. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it again. How’s that working for you? A tiny voice invaded my thoughts.
So here I was, sitting alone in the car, waiting for my dad to finish whatever he was called to do. Coming second to his job. Yet again.
Unable to sit there any longer, I wrap my dark blue coat around me and tentatively step out of the car. The absence of anyone to stop me fuelled my determination to snoop around.
As it was evening, it was getting colder by the minute; ice had collected on the ground, but thankfully I was wearing my flat knee length black suede boots, with a tan sweater and jeans. My hair, a rich auburn color that naturally curled into ringlets, was what I considered my best feature. Since it reached my waist and was hard to manage, I tied it up in a messy bun tonight, so it was out of the way. Sometimes, I want to just chop the whole thing off, but then quickly change my mind, as it’s taken me years to grow it this length. Maybe one day.
Wrapping the coat tighter around me, I looked around, ignoring the Harleys parked in the driveway, not because I was frightened, but because it reminded me of Emma’s decision to go to that sorority party, she dragged me to almost six weeks ago now.
I tried not to think about that time, but something, like seeing Harley’s, would remind me of it, and I was back there all over again.
We’d gone to a sorority party with people only Emma knew. Even though I was uncomfortable, I forced myself to have a good time. People were doing drugs and engaging in sexual activity, which left me feeling extremely uneasy.
Emma immediately gravitated towards a guy who seemed a little older than every other boy here. But he did nothing for me. His friend standing next to him, though, was a different story.
The boy Emma was interested in was talking to another brooding guy in jeans and leather, there were at least a half a dozen girls trying to get his attention. I couldn’t help the jealousy I felt at this, even if I didn’t know the guy and had never met him before. His dark tousled hair and sexy dimples in his cheeks were the first things I noticed, but despite our closeness in age, one look into his sky-blue orbs revealed a depth of experience far beyond his years.
His hands were in his pockets, and his eyes were on me. But that couldn’t be right, could it? I discreetly glance behind me, expecting to see another girl, but no one was there.
That was the night I met Bodie Dawson; an exciting bad boy rebel,
He was from another school, which I guess explained why I had never seen him around Briar Creek High. He was visiting his grandmother, or so he’d said.
We’d clicked immediately and spent the rest of the night together. In fact, I enjoyed his company way too much. It was clear he enjoyed mine, judging by his affectionate touches and kisses.
It didn’t take long for me to be smitten by him; I was loath to go home, but by the time it got to my curfew of midnight, I’d had no choice.
I suppressed the burning desire to climb him like a tree; something I had never experienced before and barely resisting it. I would not jump his bones in the middle of the living room of someone’s house, with a bunch of strangers watching, no matter how much I wanted to.
That night was the night that started my love story with Bodie and I guess it would end the same way every young teenage romance began. We’d snuck around behind my parents” backs, and I was well on the way to falling for the bad boy.
But then my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces only six weeks after giving him all of my firsts, and lying to my mom where I was, telling her I was with Emma when I was actually with Bodie all night.
He would drop me at the end of the street on his motorcycle with a tender kiss, promising to call me. After a restless night’s sleep dreaming of him, I would always have my head in the clouds until I could see him again.
And then he just disappeared.
It was the middle of the week before my phone dinged with a message, and my heart rate soared when I thought of Bodie.
While I couldn”t check in the middle of class, I swiftly got my phone as I made my way to the next class. His message triggered a wave of sadness, depression, and eventually rage.
Bodie: Little one, we had a great time, but I think I gave you the wrong impression. You were great pussy, and I’m happy to have popped your cherry. But I’m movin’ on and have to leave town. It”s better this way, before emotions complicate things. Have a great life, I know you’ll make somethin’ of yourself.
Bodie x
I read the message at least a dozen times and had to wait a few minutes for the fog of betrayal and anger to dissipate from my vision. Ten minutes later, still standing in the empty corridor, school forgotten, I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Bodie, though two years older than me, had been interested, I know he had. And now it was just over? Hell to the no. He doesn’t get to dump and run without an explanation.
While tightening my jaw, I dialled the number he provided, but to my frustration, my call failed to connect. Either he had it disconnected or he had me blocked, and trying to send a message had the same effect.
Shaking my head to dislodge those unwanted memories, I again look towards the house, feeling uneasy being here. Taking a tentative step, wondering what I was bound to find. Holding my tiny purse against me, with the cash I earned by serving at the diner three days a week in town. My mom wasn’t too happy that I had gotten a job, but my father had praised me for showing initiative.
I wonder how he would react if he knew I aspire to work with him someday, and eventually take over the business? Would he try to dissuade me? Probably. But I had a definite plan for my life”s path. It may not be the norm for someone my age, but I was determined to make it happen. Both my mom and dad would have to live with it.
I slowly make my way to the front door, turning the filthy doorknob, surprised because it was unlocked. Pushing it open, I freeze at the scene that met my eyes. A woman, possibly in her late forties or early fifties, sat on the floor in a trancelike state, blood flowing from her face. A man in his fifties lies motionless on the peeling linoleum floor, blood pooling around his head. I scrunch up my nose, but otherwise feel nothing. Am I normal? I think to myself. Anyone else would throw up, or run out of there at the such a scene. But not me.
It was the bikers and my father standing around shooting the breeze as if they’d just met for coffee that got my attention. There was a particular biker who stood tall, gripping a large chain. An involuntary gasp leaves my lips.
His face contorted in rage, though I would recognize that face anywhere; he’d starred in my dreams for the six weeks.
“Bodie?” I whisper quietly, watching as his wild blue eyes suddenly focus on me. Shocked surprise written all over his face. But before he could say anything, my father stands in front of me. Anger flashing across his handsome face.
“Zoe, I told you to stay in the damn car,” he barks at me; my eyes widen at the way he speaks to me.
“Hey man, back up.” Bodie inserts himself between my dad and me, and I force myself not to melt into a puddle of goo right there.
My father turns fiery blue eyes on the man/boy standing up for me; even though I know I should hate him for the callous way he treated me, I feel a warmth when he defends me.
“With all due respect, kid.” He spits the word kid out like it’s poison, telling him his place without saying the words. “You have no clue what you’re getting in the middle of here. This is my daughter, Zoe. Not some whore off the street.”
Recoiling as though struck, Bodie releases his hold on my father”s arm. A look I can’t fathom on his beautiful face when he learns who I really am. Shit! I chew nervously on my bottom lip and watch him take a step back. By the time he lifts his eyes, the beautiful sky-blue orbs are devoid of all emotion.
How does he do that? I guess I’m not as skilled as he is in matters of the heart. It’s then I notice he’s wearing a leather vest with the word Chains stitched into it on the breast; and when he turns to walk away like he’s disgusted with me, I can see the words Devil’s Carnage MC on the top, and Briar Creek Chapter on the bottom.
He’s a member of an MC? Something he neglected to tell me when we first met all those weeks ago. I cross my arms over my chest, and will myself not to cry. I don’t understand why he’s the one who’s angry because it certainly seems like he’s played me, not the other way around. And I don’t appreciate that. Not one bit.
It’s taking everything I have inside me not to rip him a new one. My father is unaware of Bodie’s and my connection. And I wasn”t ready to open that can of worms.
As the front door swings open, my father”s team of employees enters the room. I move closer to the door, ready to leave, not wanting to be in Bodie’s, or rather Chains”, company, any longer than I had to.
My father turns his angry gaze on me, and it’s all I can do not to recoil.
“I’m going to be awhile,” he tells me, before scanning the room, his eyes landing on a big burly guy with the name Tiny stitched into his vest. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, Bodie…I mean Chains, walks up.
“I’ll take the kid home,” he tells my dad, and I will the ground to open and swallow me whole, when the word kid spews out of his mouth.
“I can get myself home, thanks.” I shoot back. My stance defensive. Though how I was supposed to do that when we arrived in one car?
“Zo, just listen for one goddamn second in your life,” my father cuts in. “Thank you,” he tells Chains distractedly, and leaves me alone with him to tend to what he has to do.
Without a word, I wrench open the door and run outside. But before I can get any further than the end of the almost falling down porch, I hear heavy boots following me. A strong arm bands around my waist, stopping me in my tracks.
“Were you ever going to tell me who your father was?” He growls out, and I can’t stop the humourless laugh escaping out of me.
“When were you expecting me to tell you, Chains?”I spit out in disgust.“When you had me bent over your bike and fucking me from behind? Oh, I know, when you sent me that text breaking up with me six weeks after stringing me along. And told me to, in no uncertain terms, get lost and then blocked me? Hmm?”
Something akin to regret passes over his face, but it’s gone so fast, I’m left wondering if I’d imagined it.
“Get on the fuckin’ sled, I’m taking you home.”
“Fuck. You.” I spit, turning on my heel. I had no idea where I was going, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to spend one more second with this lying asshole.
But before I can get even a few steps from him, strong arms band around my waist, lifting me off the ground, as he walks effortlessly to a black chrome Harley. Unceremoniously dumping me on the seat, I want to scream and rail at him like the teenager I am. But I keep it all inside. I’ll let it all out when I’m finally alone.
He doesn’t need to know just how much he still affects me.
He slides on in front of me, wordlessly turning over the engine, slowly moving forward. The movement makes me jerk, and I have to wrap my arms around his waist reluctantly or fall off. He presses the gas, and we’re riding through the streets back to my house.
All too soon, he’s stopping directly in front of my house, and I pray my mom doesn’t open the door and see him there. Throwing my leg over, I stand there like an idiot, as I hand him his helmet, running my fingers through the bird”s nest that is now my hair. He silently stares at me, and the sound of the screen door opening has me turning my head to look at my mom, standing there, her arms crossed in front of her chest, waiting for an explanation.
“Go inside, little one. Forget what you saw today. Find someone who will nurture and treat you well. Because it sure as hell isn’t gonna be me.” The words he wrote in his text still haunting me.
His blue eyes imploring. With those words, standing there stunned on the verge, I watch him ride away.
I feel the urge to collapse onto the grass and let the brewing tantrum take over. But I will myself to rein it in, turning towards my house and my waiting mother, I resign myself to the fact I will never see Bodie—Chains again.