Property of Big Daddy (Kings of Anarchy MC #2)

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Shit. Shit. What do I do?

I peer into my bedroom once more and dial Cecilia.

“Hello,” she whispers groggily.

“Hey. I have a situation.”

“Gwynee? What time is it?” She yawns into the phone.

“I don’t know, but there’s a hot as shit scary ass tattooed biker in my bed.”

“What’s the problem?”

“What do I do?”

“Babe,” an amused, deep voice carries from my bedroom. “Quit your yapping and come sit on my face. Fucking starving in here.”

“Sounds like you don’t need me. Unless you want me to come sit on his face.” Cecilia snickers and hangs up on me.

Yesterday

“Holy shit, girl. You look hot.” Cecilia beams at me, proud of the cut and style she just done on my hair. “Thad isn’t going to know what hit him when he lays his eyes on you.”

“You think?” I smile at my reflection while running my fingers through the silky ends of the layered cut.

“Oh yeah.”

“You’re the best.” I move off to the register to pay for my service and schedule my next appointment. It’s the one thing I treat myself to, even if it is pricey. Coming to Cecilia’s salon, Sassy & Classy, is also a great way to support one of my dearest friends in her business. She gave up on trying to give me the friends and family discount because I’d always stuff the difference into the tip jar.

She’s worked hard to make her dream of owning her own business a reality. Seeing her thrive after all she’s been through gives me hope that maybe good things do happen to good people.

Cecilia hums to herself as she books my next appointment.

“Still no luck finding a receptionist?”

“Not anyone worth a shit,” she mutters. “You should stop working for Thad’s family and come work for me.”

“I wish I could.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You love Thad more than me,” she teases.

“Don’t start with me. We’ll grab lunch or some drinks next weekend.”

“I’m holding you to it.”

My boyfriend’s family owns a chain of furniture stores. They have stores and warehouses all over California, but the family is originally from Anarchy. I met Thad during my second week on the job as a salesperson. He was only meant to fill in for their manager while she was on maternity leave, but he said he took one look at me, and he knew that one day I would be his forever. Says it was love at first sight.

We’ve been dating ever since and he never returned to the other store he was managing outside of when he fills in when they are shorthanded at the other locations.

After leaving Cecilia with her next customer, I glance at my watch. I didn’t get a touch up on my color this time, so my appointment only lasted about forty-five minutes. If I’m lucky, I can surprise Thad at the store with his favorite for lunch. He normally takes his break around noon and drops by Gilligan’s for a fish and chips.

Gilligan’s is a seafood restaurant themed around the classic television show, Gilligan’s Island, and it happens to be one of the few businesses that isn’t affiliated with the motorcycle club who rules this town. Kings of Anarchy MC. Everyone around here knows nobody fucks with the Kings. Thad isn’t a fan of the outlaws, though he’s never really explained why.

I know of them but have no personal affiliation. You don’t grow up here and not know who they are. Most of the town tolerates them because, despite their criminal lifestyle, they are known to give back to the community.

You can’t live here and not run into the members. Anarchy isn’t that big.

I swing by Gilligan’s and grab two of the Castaway Meals to go. Breaded fish, hushpuppies, corn, crinkle cut fries, and rolls. My car is going to smell all greasy and fishy, but it will be worth it to surprise my man.

When I pull up to the furniture store, I’m worried I’ve missed Thad. The out for lunch sign is hanging on the main entrance door, but his car is still here. Maybe he’s having something in the break room. Sometimes him and the guy from finance order in, but rarely. Chris generally goes home for lunch to see his wife and their baby.

I gather our lunch and balance the drink carrier as I shut my car door with my hip. The front is locked, so I go around back to the loading dock to sneak in through the back.

No one is here. Not even the delivery guys. It’s eerily quiet outside of the low hum of the furnace running. Normally, the guys who work back here have music or a game on.

What’s that sound? I stop to listen to the creaking noises and sit the takeout bag and drink carrier on a stack of pallets.

“Hello. Is anyone back here?” I walk past the break room, following the sound.

“Like that,” I overhear Thad say and end on a grunt.

What the fuck? I know that sound. It’s the groan he makes when he’s about to get off. I storm through the swinging doors to the showroom and find him bending some floozie over the back of one of the display sofas.

Her cottage cheese ass is up in the air and the breath I’m breathing is knocked right out of me at the view of Thad slapping her jiggly ass.

“You like that, don’t you?” Slap. Grunt. Slap.

“Harder, Thad.”

My heart falls to my feet as a tennis ball sized lump forms in my throat. I go to scream at him, but nothing comes out, so I focus on rage instead. I grab him by the back of his hair when he’s mid-thrust. His eyes go big and round as they meet my tear-streaked gaze.

“Fuck,” he mutters as I release my grip and slap him as he tries to pull his dick out of the whore and jerks his pants up.

All I can do is stare at the two of them and seethe. Not that I give a shit about the woman. She doesn’t owe me anything, but Thad…I thought he was the one. I thought he loved me.

I punch at him as the woman screeches and attempts to pull her skirt down.

“Gwyn, it’s not what you think,” he starts, and I shake my head without a word.

I’m still too upset to speak as my anger and sadness bubbles and further clogs my throat. I’m speechless. I can’t believe my eyes. Has he been cheating on me this whole time?

“I can explain. I…you, we. I fucked up.”

I laugh at his piss poor explanation, finding my voice. “We’re through. Also consider this my notice. I quit. He’s all yours, honey.” I don’t spare the two of them another look as I strut toward the front door.

Thad chases after me, grabbing me by the wrist.

“Let’s talk about this.”

I snatch my wrist back. “One, don’t touch me. Don’t you dare touch me. Two, there’s nothing you can say that will ever make me forgive you. You disgust me.”

His face is ashen as he goes down on his knees. “Marry me, Gwynee.”

“Marry you?” I scoff, wiping away my tears. “I wouldn’t let you lick dog shit off my heels. Fuck you, Thad. Fuck you and your miniature dick.” I flip my hair over my shoulder and unlock the door. “Lunch is in the back. You two can help yourselves, though I really hope you choke on it,” I bite out as I storm out.

When I get into my car, I’m shaking. Inhale . Exhale . Repeat. I run through a couple of exercises to regulate my breathing and calm myself enough to drive back to Cecilia’s salon.

She takes one look at me and excuses herself from her client. “Oh, honey. What’s wrong?”

“Still have that job?” I burst into tears.

“We’re going out and getting shit faced. I’ll open the salon at midday.” Cecilia hugs me to her side as I cry and rant on her couch while stuffing my face with chips and salsa. I take another heavy sip of the margarita she shoved in my hand the second she had it poured.

“Who knows how many times he’s done this? I feel so dirty. At least I always insisted on a condom when we had sex, but I still feel nasty.”

“There is nothing dirty about you. Thad is the gross one. I never liked him anyway. He was greasy.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I love you and you loved him, and I was afraid you’d get mad and cut me off if I did.”

“I would never. You’re my best friend, Cee.”

“I know and I wish I had said something, but if I had, would it have changed anything?”

“Probably not,” I admit. Why didn’t I see it? See him for who he truly was. I thought he loved me. That he was going to propose soon, or at least ask me to move in with him. But the more I think back, the more I realize I ran through his red flags like I was cutting the lines at an amusement park.

He always wanted to stay over at my place. I thought it was so I wouldn’t have to keep stuff at two places. He said it was easier for him to keep a few suits and a toothbrush at mine than for me to lug all my girly junk to his. He didn’t want me there because he was fucking other people there.

“No more tears. We’re going to get cleaned up and hit the town and I know just the spot. Thad wouldn’t be caught dead going to Shooters.”

“The biker bar?”

“Exactly.” She smirks and snatches my bag of chips away. “No more of these.” She crinkles her nose up at my extra hot salsa as she takes my bowl to the kitchen. Cecilia can’t handle spicy foods. She has to have everything mild.

We take turns hogging her bathroom mirror. I cough as she leaves me in a haze of hairspray to find me a top to pair with my jeans I luckily had in my car, saving us from swinging by my apartment.

I’m afraid to go home. I don’t want to run into Thad. I should be thankful we didn’t live together, but he has a key to my place. When he worked late, he’d let himself in and slip into bed with me. Probably after he was out fucking some skank behind my back.

The thought makes my skin crawl. I’m buying new sheets as soon as I get paid.

All the signs were there, and I ignored them. I didn’t want to see them because it meant I was in another doomed relationship.

All those deliveries he insisted on overseeing for special customers. The hair tie I found on the passenger floorboard of his car that he swore belonged to his niece. The earring he gave me that wasn’t mine. He said he found it under his couch cushion. I made excuses for him. I did this to myself.

While I wait on Cecilia to rifle through her closet, I leave the management office of my apartment building a message that I need my locks changed as soon as possible.

“I’ve got it.” She dangles a black corset in my face that I’m fairly certain was part of her Halloween costume last year when she dressed up like a wench.

“My tits are going to fall out.”

“I’m sure the bikers won’t mind if they do.”

“Tell me again why we are going to a biker bar?”

“One, Thad won’t be there. Two, hot bikers. Three, if that prick shows up, there will be plenty of muscle around to kick his ass. And fourth and most importantly. The best way to get over a man is to get under a new one.”

I can’t argue with her logic.

I snatch the corset and decide that I must be losing my mind. I should go home and pack Thad’s shit up and drop it at his doorstep or, better yet, I should put it in front of the furniture store and light it on fire. Then again, I don’t want to catch any charges. He’s not worth the trouble, my tears, or the time I’ve wasted on him.

With renewed determination, I put on the corset and remind myself that I’m a badass bitch and Thad was lucky I ever looked his way. A mistake I won’t ever make again.

I’m going to find some scary ass hot as fuck biker to screw who will make me forget all about Thad.

Harley Davidson motorcycles line the front of Shooters. A thrill races up my spine as my heels clack across the parking lot. Cecilia struts ahead of me like a woman on a mission.

Shooters is exactly what you’d expect of a biker bar. Billiard tables, smoke, dart boards, beer, loud music and even louder men. Hot men at that.

Now I know why Cecilia insisted on this bar. I glance around while trying to keep up with her as she navigates the packed space, our destination the bar, to order a drink.

This isn’t the type of establishment that serves martinis or margaritas. These men like their liquor like they live their life, hard. I feel their eyes on me as I squeeze in next to Cecilia, near the end of the bar, next to a biker with tattooed biceps thick enough to deal some real damage. My gaze travels the length of his arm to his large hand curled around a beer bottle.

The heat of his gaze warms me, and I look up at him through my lashes, surprised by his handsome yet brutal face. His lips tease at a smile and electricity crackles between us.

He’s got dark, intense eyes I could drown in.

Cecilia shoving two fingers in her mouth to create an ear-piercing whistle to capture the bartender’s attention breaks our staring contest. I look away, hoping he can’t see the blush creeping across the apples of my cheeks.

“Two redheaded sluts,” Cecilia orders our shots of J?germeister mixed with cranberry juice and peach schnapps.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can tell the guy next to me is checking me out. It’s been a while since I’ve attempted to flirt with someone. Bikers aren’t my usual type, but maybe this guy next to me can change my mind. He’s the total opposite of Thad. He’s everything Thad hates, and that makes him the perfect man to take home with me tonight.