Rewriting Destiny (Forsaken Sinners MC #1) (14 page)

Liam comes up behind me and notices the same thing. “Like I said, you shouldn’t have left her there.”

Not only am I confused as to what the fuck he is talking about, now I’m really worried about Danielle. After hearing all this shit Liam is spouting and seeing this stain, I remember the text messages she sent me last night. Did something happen after I left?

“What did you mean that he has a bad reputation?” I ask, with anger radiating off of me in waves but needing to get this shit straight.

“Look, I should have told you when you showed up and I saw that your friend was a girl, and I’m sorry, but I thought you would be with her the whole time. He has a reputation for forcing himself on women, but no one will turn his ass in. I’m not sure if it’s true, but that’s what people have said.”

I instantly see red. If that motherfucker touched even one hair on Danielle’s head, he is a dead man. “And you just
now
decide to fucking mention this!” I turn around and slam him against my truck. I have my forearm against his throat ready to kill this fucker for not telling me sooner.

“Whoa, dude, I don’t even know if it’s true!” he manages to get out.

I lift my arm from his neck and let him go. If something happened to her, it’s my fault for leaving her. He should have told me, but I shouldn’t have fucking left her. “
God fucking damn it
!” I yell.

I try to call her again but it goes to voicemail. She must have her phone off. She’s not here, so that means she can only be one place. Home. I jump in my truck and peel out before Liam can say anything else.

I make it to her house in record time, but she’s not there. I knock on the door but there are no lights on and when I look in the windows, I don’t see anyone. Through the living room window I see a flash of white that catches my eye. It’s a sheet thrown over the couch. Why would she have done that before she left for school? I thought she said that she wanted to come back here at least once a month, so why would she cover shit? Unless…fuck, unless she left! But where the fuck would she go? Think, Zane, think!

I head over to my parent’s place to see if maybe they’ve seen her. When I walk inside, no one is home. Great. Just my fucking luck.

While I wait for my parents to get home, I go out back because I need fresh air and I don't want anyone to see me pacing like a crazed lunatic. Once I’m outside, I spot a box sitting on the grass by the fence. When I’m a few feet away, my name becomes visible. It’s in Danielle’s handwriting. What the fuck is this, and why would she leave it for me?

I tear open the top and find an envelope. I open it. Inside is a letter. I read it and the words drop me to my knees. She’s gone. I don’t know what happened, but I can guess. That fucker raped her, or tried to, and I wasn’t there. She’s right, I broke my promise. I reach into the box and pull out my brother's football. As I turn it over in my hands, I replay the words in her letter, each cutting me deeper than the last.
You really let me down. Not only did you break your promise to me. You broke me. I can’t be here anymore. There is nothing here but pain for me. The thing that hurts the most is you. You have broken me down so far that I don’t know if I can ever recover. Zeke’s football. It was always meant to be yours. I hope it brings you peace. If you ever cared for me. Let me go. Always love you. I can never forgive you. I hope you are happy.

I have ended up doing what I’ve always feared I would do if I ever told her how I really felt; she got hurt, she now hates me, and she’s left for good. It doesn’t matter if I was the one that physically hurt her or not. My actions played a part in her pain, and for that, I will never forgive myself.

I have no idea where she went, but I know her—she will run far away and won’t be back. And I don’t have the time to look for her; I leave soon for my first deployment. Maybe she is right and I should let her go so she can move on with her life. She’ll be better off without me. I’d only end up hurting her more in the long run.

There is one thing I can do to make it up to her, though, even if she never knows I did it. I will find that piece of shit that hurt her, and make him pay. He will regret the day he was born when I’m done with him.

Chapter 15

Four Years Later

Danielle

I wake up before my alarm clock goes off, rub my temples and stare up at the ceiling. I already have a headache, but I shouldn’t have expected anything else since today is that day—the anniversary of the day my life changed forever.

Every year, it’s the same thing: I wake up before the sun rises and I lie in bed with a headache from hell for an hour before can I drag myself out of bed. Then I put on my yoga pants, tank top, and tennis shoes and head out for a run. I don’t keep track of how far I go. I just keep going until I can’t feel my legs anymore. I don’t know why I do it, but it makes me…feel, I guess. Then I come home, take a shower, and head into work. It doesn’t matter what day of the week it is, I will always be in the shop when that day rolls around each year. Anything to keep myself busy.

I clip my iPod to my arm and head out the door. I was never really a big fan of running when I was younger, but it has sort of become a release for me. Like working at the tattoo shop and drawing.

I start at a slow jog but soon move up to a nice steady pace and start thinking about my life and how far I’ve come since that day four years ago.

***

When I packed up the things I couldn’t leave behind, I headed west, not sure where I would wind up. I figured I’d drive till I couldn’t drive anymore. I ended up in a town named Dixon, about an hour from San Francisco.

Since I had been up since the morning I left home to meet Zane at college, the first thing I did was find a hotel and sleep for eighteen hours straight. I thought I would have trouble sleeping, or at least have nightmares, but I never did. I don't even think I moved an inch from the time I lay down to the time I got up the next day.

When I finally was able to wipe the sleep from my eyes, I took a long shower, then went to get some much needed food since I hadn't eaten anything substantial since the burger and fries at the bar before the party.

On my way back to my car from the diner, I see a sign that read
‘
Apartment for Rent’
on the door of a shop, a tattoo place named Sinners Ink. I decided to check it out.

When I walked into the shop, there was a mountain of a man standing behind the reception desk. He looked to be in his early fifties with his hair cut real short, a black sleeveless shirt that showed off muscular arms full of tattoos, and a black leather vest. As I could see that the vest indicated he was a part of a motorcycle club. There were a couple of patches on the front; one said
‘President,’
another said
‘Mack,’
and the last one read
‘Forsaken Sinners MC.’

He was staring at my face with a look of anger when I approached him, probably because of the bruise that is still healing on my cheek, but the expression was gone before I could think more about it.

“You lost, girl?” he said in a deep voice.

Even though I was shaking with fear, I spoke with more bravery than I thought possible. “I’m interested in the apartment for rent.”

He seemed like he was going to turn me away, but must have decided I really needed it. “The rent is free, but you would have to work the desk here at the shop. Can you handle that?”

I was surprised that it was a work for rent deal, but happy that it would mean I’d have a job to keep me busy. I might not get paid actual money, but at least I’d be able to get out of that hotel room. I figured once I was settled, I could find another job to buy food and anything else I needed. I’d be fine for a while with the money I have in my bank account.

“What would I have to do?” I asked. I needed to make sure it was something I was capable of doing before agreeing. I’d never had a job before, so I didn't have any experience.

“Answering the phone, scheduling appointments, and running the cash register. If you’re wanting to work for more than rent, you could do the inventory, order supplies, clean, and make sure everything is stocked.” It sounded too good to be true.

“I don’t have any experience doing any of that. Would you train me?” I really wanted to take this deal, but I didn’t want to lie to him either.

“Let me show you the apartment first. If you're still interested, we’ll work out the rest later.” Before I could answer, he was walking out from behind the desk toward what looked to be a back door. “Louie, watch the front.”

I didn’t look to see who he was talking to, instead followed him outside. In big letters, the back of his cut said
‘Forsaken Sinners’
across the top and
‘California’
at the bottom. In the middle, there was the MC emblem, which consisted of a skull, two guns crossing over and flames out the top. Two small patches on either side read
‘
MC’
and
‘
1%
.’
From what I knew of motorcycle clubs, the
‘
1%’
meant they are an outlaw club. It’s amazing what TV and books will teach you. Maybe that should have had me turning around and going back to my hotel, but it didn't. I actually felt safe around this man.

We walked out of the back of the shop and next to it there was another entrance that led upstairs. At the top of the stairs, there were two doors, one that said
‘
Stay Out’
and another that I assumed was to the apartment.

When he opened the apartment, my jaw practically hit the floor. It was bigger than I thought it would be, and way nicer than anything I could have hoped for. Plus, it was furnished, which pretty much sealed the deal all on its own since I didn’t have anything but my clothes. All of this for putting in a couple hours downstairs? Shit, luck seemed to be on my side today. It was about fucking time something went right for me.

“I’ll take it,” I said without even walking further into the apartment. I turned to look at him and saw that he was staring at me. Not in a creepy way, but a deep in thought kind of way.

“You in some sort of trouble?” he asked.

Not wanting to tell him the full reason I was there, but knowing I had to give him something, I glanced away and said, “No trouble, but I had to leave.” I hoped that would be enough.

I looked up and saw him nod his head. “All right, but if you are in trouble, you need to tell me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what's going on.”

I believed him too. There was something about him that made me feel safe. “Let’s go downstairs and I’ll show you around the shop. You can move in tonight and start work tomorrow. Let me know if you need help moving anything or leaving where you are now.”

I was smart enough to know he meant if I was leaving a bad place and needed someone there with me while I got my stuff out. It was nice of him, but I was alone at a hotel, so no help was needed.

I followed him out the door and down the stairs.

I started work the next day. It didn’t take me long to learn how to do the inventory and stock the supply room. Everything else was really easy to do. Mack paid me well for doing the extras, probably way more than I deserved, so I never had to find another job. Plus, I really liked working there. The guys I met were all nice.

***

During my first year at the shop, I was quiet and spent all my time either working or in my apartment. I met a few members of the Sinners when they would come in to talk with Mack or when they were getting tattoos done. Mack was the president of the club, and he was also the owner of the shop. At first I thought he only hung around, making sure everything was running smoothly, until one day I saw him tattoo a dragon that took up a guy's whole back.

Then there is Louie. He’s a member of the club and works at the shop. He is a couple years older than me, tall, and solidly built. He isn't huge by any means, but I would bet on him to win a fight, that's for sure. He is also ruggedly handsome with short black hair, green eyes, and a smile that makes me break out in goose bumps. It is almost evil, sinister in a way, but sexy as hell.

Other members have come into the shop too, but I don’t know them all that well: Skinner, who is the VP; Tom Tom, who is the secretary; and Toby, the Sergeant at Arms. Skinner and Tom Tom are both in their mid-thirties, with muscular builds. Toby is only about six years older than me, with dark brown hair in a crew cut, eyes the color of the sky, and a square jaw that is always sprinkled with stubble.

I learned a lot about the MC lifestyle while working at the tattoo shop. Sure, I’d read books about motorcycle clubs, but working at a tattoo shop owned by one and getting to know the members was something I thought I would never do.

I opened up to Mack a couple months after starting at the shop. I told him about my parents, how I lost Zeke and my grandmother, and finally about the night I left home. I left Zane out, though. It hurt too much to think about him, let alone talk about him. Mack became like a father to me, treated me like his own flesh and blood. And after everything that I had been through, it was nice to have someone like him care for me and make me feel protected.

Mack was pissed when I told him about what happened that night at the party, but then I asked if he would teach me how to defend myself, so it gave him something else to focus on and feel like he was able to help make it better—which he was. He called Toby, who was not only the Sergeant at Arms, but also a MMA fighter.

I started going to the gym with him every day to learn self-defense. After I had that down, we started messing around in the ring, boxing—him showing me how to throw a proper punch and how to block. When I was up there, I was able to let everything out; all the anger, all the pain, all my frustrations would melt off of me with my sweat. He also started taking me to the gun range to teach me how to fire a gun and hit a target. Even though I loved boxing and being in the ring, shooting made me feel powerful, like I had all the control. Mack even bought me my own handgun. I was finally starting to feel like myself again and becoming the person I wanted to be.

One day, I asked Mack about getting a tattoo and he insisted that he do it for me. He’s an amazing artist. When he asked what I wanted, I told him I wanted a phoenix on my back, but I didn’t have a picture to work from. I could have drawn something, but at that point, I hadn’t drawn anything for a long time.

He designed the whole thing, and it turned out amazing. Most phoenix tattoos you see are full of color, but mine is black and gray. I wanted to show that when I rose up from the ashes, I was a different person—darker, and with the knowledge that life isn’t always colorful, but full of pain. I couldn’t have designed it better myself. That was the first of many tattoos I would get.

I started going to the Forsaken Sinners’ clubhouse and bartending for them. I was able to meet the rest of the brothers and really start building a relationship with them. They considered me a sister since Mack had pretty much claimed me as his daughter. I loved the way I was around them and they way they filled my heart with love. Not the lovey-dovey type of love you get when you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, but the type you have for family. They make me feel sort of like a princess, their MC Princess.

Louie and Toby became my confidants. They grounded me. When I wasn’t at the shop working or at the gym with Toby, I was hanging out with one or both of them. We’d go for rides on their bikes, shoot the shit at the clubhouse, or they'd teach me how to play pool and darts. While Toby was like a big brother to me, Louie became my best friend.

Around my second year there, I got so bored one day sitting at the reception desk I decided to draw to pass the time. So I started doodling on a blank page in the appointment book.

“You ever think about tattooing?”

Since I didn’t realize Mack had come up behind me, when he spoke I about fell out of my chair. When I calmed down and righted myself, his words hit me. I never really thought about it till he mentioned it, but now that the thought was in my head, I wanted to learn. “Would you teach me?”

And so began my apprenticeship with Mack to become a tattoo artist. It took me a little less than a year to learn the craft, since I already knew how to draw. I worked side by side with Mack and Louie at the shop. I would still man the front when necessary though, which was fine by me.

A year ago, Mack signed ownership for the shop over to me because he wanted to spend more time at the club. Since I loved the shop as much as he did, he said he couldn’t think of anyone better to take over for him—his daughter. He still comes in to help out when he’s bored or we need the help, but mostly it’s me and Louie.

I’ve come to love my new life. I have an amazing career, I bought my own house a few months ago, and I have a new family. I still harbor the pain and anger from what led me here, but I’ve been able to take all of those feelings and put them into my career as a tattoo artist or work them out at the gym or shooting range. Life is good. Except when August fifth rolls around.