I inhale another dragoff the cigarette. My father would shit if he saw me smoking. I’m an adult, but my father’s always treated me like I’m fifteen years old. So naturally that eggs me on even more to do shit that would piss him off. I know, real mature, but fuck him.
He made his choice long ago when he chose his club over his loved ones. I guess his real family wasn’t good enough for him and his life, so he went and made his own. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d included us in everything, but he kept my brother and me far away from it.
Then when I was younger, he was in jail for years because of his friends running drugs with him. What a loser. Being away from him for so long has been a blessing as far as I’m concerned.
Now, he suddenly wants to pull a stunt and show up at my mom’s house all the time, like he fucking cares about her? Fuck that! He broke her so badly before. I’m older this time around, and I’m not letting him get away with it.
Hence the Prospect from the Oath Keepers I was just talking to—Scratch. I still can’t believe he’d let people call him that, and frankly, I’m scared to find out how he got it.
At least I have a plan. Well, my best friend, Bethany, came up with it at first, but it’s brilliant. I’m going to go from daddy’s little good girl to his naughty biker slut, and I’m making sure it’s personal for him. As soon as B mentioned it, I was sold.
Paybacks will come swift and easy for me by fucking a few of his club brothers. Surely they would love a young blonde with a perky rack and tight cunt. I could probably walk right through that club door and get picked up by a few of them.
Once I’m done sleeping with some of them and I can rub it in my father’s face, I’ll embarrass him in front of everyone. I’ll figure out when he’ll be around his oh so precious fucking club and announce it. I may even point out which of his men dipped into the honey jar. Once he’s mortified and disrespected, I’ll be out of there. It’ll teach the bastard to fuck with my loved ones once and for all.
In the past, I’d have never had the guts or would’ve thought about this plan, but now he has my older brother, Brently, joining that stupid gang too. I refuse to let my mom lose Brently as well. She sacrificed her husband already, and it’s not fair to take her son also.
My brother met me to have lunch last week; it was quick but better than nothing.Nothinghas been the norm for him lately. He’s been pulling no-shows and not returning any of our calls or texts. Then, I couldn’t believe it at the diner when he showed up proudly wearing a cut that was just like my father’s. The only big differences were that Brent’s said ‘Prospect’ and ‘Snake’ for his name.
Seriously?Because the experience from the psychos who carved him up and attacked him wasn’t bad enough already? The club members went ahead and chose a name off of it for him?
It sounds more like a slap in the face if you ask me. They’re calling him that shit after what the attackers did to torment him and the love of his life. I don’t get it how Brent can stand to be around them after that.
My brother felt like me for so long, never wanting anything to do with the club or our father. We both graduated with good grades and went to college. I was on the drill team in high school, and he stayed busy playing sports. We both made our mom so proud; she supported everything when it came to us.
I went to a junior college since my father wouldn’t pay for a larger school, and I had to go where financial aid would allow. It was extra shitty because I remember him getting a new Harley that year. At least, in the end, it meant that I still had my mom and Bethany around me.
Brently, on the other hand, got to go away to a decent college. He was awarded a sports scholarship that paid most of his way. Not like any of it matters anymore, with his chosen career path. He’s turned into a giant asshole just like my dad.
After all the lying and cheating my father put my mom through, I just can’t forgive him. Now Brently’s going on that list too. He should be helping me, not making it harder.Traitor!
I haven’t spoken to my mom in almost four weeks. I kept seeing my dad’s new bike parked out front of her house, so I didn’t want to stop by. Then, he’s answered her phone every time I’ve called, so I gave up ringing her.
When it comes down to it, I don’t have anything to say to him right now. I’d rather keep driving or hang up, than waste more breath on being angry at him. Obviously, my words in the past never did anything to change his ways, so hopefully this drastic plan of mine will.
In the beginning, when he’d pull his shit with Mom, I’d been able to speak to her about it. She was always saying that she needed him, which I know was a load of bull. I’ve been the one around her—all the time—even when I was in college in Austin. She’s always been such a strong woman; she never sees it, though. He breaks her over and over, yet she rebuilds herself.
Sure, there’ve been nights when I’d hear her crying or when he’d call lit off his ass begging to talk to her, but he never showed up every day like he’s been doing. We’d go for little spurts of him being around for like three days, and then he’d vanish again. Each time he’d show up with the same sob story of ‘he couldn’t take it anymore, and he loved her.’
I never understood back then or now, how she could easily forgive him. Her favorite justification, when confronted about it, was always ‘love’s blind and forgiving.’ Well, I’ll embarrass him so badly this time that he’ll stay away from my mom for good. She won’t have to make excuses for him any longer. I never want my dad to hurt her ever again; she deserves real love and happiness.
He’s done all that and yet the guys he has with him call him the Prez. What kind of shitty man like that deserves to be called the President of any organization?
Ugh. Maybe getting my payback will end up opening my brother’s eyes again.
When I showed up at that crappy bar tonight, it was pure blind luck on my part. I stopped in to see if they knew where I could find some of the Oath Keepers guys. The bar’s located near the clubhouse, so I figured I’d give it a shot. I struck freaking gold when—pretty much right away—I ran into one of their Prospects. He was cute and seemed kinda sweet, definitely looking to get laid until the big guy showed up to interrupt us.
The other man was insanely good-looking, but he was no Prospect. As soon as the wild group of bikers came barreling into the bar, my body went on guard. Their cuts said Nomad and my mother’s warned me about those types of guys, as well as club members from back in her time with my father.
With the lifestyle they live, I seriously doubt I could handle one of them. But, I may try it out in the future, especially if it’s with the guy I saw tonight. Sweet fucking baby Jesus that man was so delicious looking. He seemed rough and sexy all over, and to top it off; his name patch said ‘Viking.’
It was the last thing I saw before I was headed out the door, needing to regroup and come up with a better game plan. Because fuck me, how on earth do you get called something like Viking? You know it can’t just be because he’s massive. It has to be more. I’m betting he’s a very dangerous man, and the scary thing is, that sounds fucking hot.
Next week I’m damn sure dragging Bethany back in there with me to help. It was her idea originally, so she better be up on acting as my wingman. She’ll probably flip out and offer to fuck them all. She’s a total slut, but I still love her. I’m not the only one with daddy issues, but hers are far more fucked up than mine. The poor woman was beaten and molested by the man who helped create her. I don’t know how she did it; I most likely would have stabbed him when he slept if it were me.
Also, some much-needed recon is due for the Prospect; any information on him at all would help me out. Oh and Viking too. But how? My mother wouldn’t know either of them, not that I would get to speak to her anyhow. My dad’s probably over at the house, and God knows I don’t want to talk with him.
Not far from the bar, I pull into the parking lot of my quaint apartment. Climbing out of my car, I slam the door, relieved to be home.