Against All Odds - Angel's Story: Against All Odds (Destiny Series Book 4) (4 page)

My mum hooked up with a new guy while my dad was away. I think it only took her two, maybe three weeks.

The day my Pops got out of prison, he came straight to the house. He packed me up and told my mum I was going to live with him.

Of course she carried on, she always fucking did. ‘Drama Queen’ my dad would say. He told her she didn’t deserve me. He was right too. Then he threatened her. I’ll never forget it.

“I’m taking my son away from here, from you. I’m gonna give him the life he deserves. If you try to stand in my way, or try to take him from me, bitch, I’ll fucking kill you.” I’d never heard him speak to her like that before. When it came to me he was pretty passionate though. He’s always had my back. She let him take me and we never heard from her again.

Actually, she did call Pops once. When I was around fourteen I think. She wanted money. She was in some kind of trouble. My dad told her to fuck off and never call him again. She didn’t even ask about me, or want to talk. It hurt, but it had been like that my whole life. I was stupid to think she even cared about how I was doing.

Pops and I live in a small two-bedroom house. Nothing fancy. Pops doesn’t do fancy. But it’s ours and we look after it. We’re not what you’d call rich, far from it. We’re not poor either. Kind of middle class, I guess.

He bought the house the year I started university. He didn’t want the goings on at the clubhouse to affect my future career in any way. I felt bad taking him away from his brothers and his family, but he said he wanted me to have a better life than he had. An honourable one, something to be proud of. He said he wasn’t proud of some of the things he’d done in the past. He didn’t want the same for me.

I’ve always gotten great grades. Straight A student. Pops loved the report cards I’d bring home from school. He showed them off to everyone at the clubhouse. He would’ve shown the whole fucking world if he could. “My son’s a fucking genius,” he’d say.

He never finished school and struggles to read and write. I want to teach him, but he’s too proud for that. Says he’s too old to learn. I think he’s just embarrassed. He’s fucking brilliant with his hands though. Rebuilding cars and bikes is what he does for a living. He’s good too, one of the best in the business.

That’s where my bike came from. He built it with his own two hands, from scratch. I fuckin’ love my bike, more so because he made it for me. He gave it to me for my twenty-first birthday. I cherish it.

He’s made so many sacrifices for me over the years. He even sold three of his beloved custom-built hot-rods, to put a down payment on the house and help pay my Uni fees. I love my Pops. I’ve never told him that. He’d probably call me a fuckin’ pussy if I did. I know he knows though. Just like I know he loves me.

After finishing high school, I screwed around for the first few months. I wasn’t sure what direction I wanted to take. With my grades, I knew I could take on any career, but truthfully I wanted to be like my Pops. That’s when I decided to get the club tattoo on my back.

That night, when I got home from the tattoo parlour, I showed him my tatt and told him I wanted to patch in. Stupid me thought he’d be happy. Wrong. Fuck did he go off. He wouldn’t have a bar of it. Flipped his fucking lid. It was the only time we ever came close to blows.

Afterwards, when he’d calmed down, he asked me to think long and hard about a career, something respectable, worthy. Something on the right side of the law. Something I could be proud of. That’s how the idea of studying Law came about. If I couldn’t follow in Pops’ footsteps then I’d do what my real dad did.

He was a lawyer. That’s about all I know about him. My mum wouldn’t tell me anything else, no matter how much I begged. The most I got out of her was that he used to be a lawyer and he’s dead. That’s fucking it. I tried to find out more about him, but she wouldn’t budge. “He’s dead,” she’d say. “That’s all you need to know.”
Bitch.

Growing up I became obsessed with him. My mum didn’t give two shits about me, so I’d fantasize about him. Imagine how different my life would be if he was still alive. How close we would be. All the things we’d do together. How much he would love me. Crazy I know, because I have no idea what he was really like. Personality wise, I’m nothing like my mother. I have a heart. So I guess I got that from my dad.

I vowed one day I’d find out everything I could about him. I don’t have much to go on though. I’ve never seen a photo of him so I don’t even know what he looks like. My mum and I don’t look much alike, so I presume I take after him.

I hope following in his footsteps will make him proud; stupid really, because he’s dead, but I want that. I just want one of my parents to give a shit. I know Pops does. He’s proud of me. Tells me all the time. “Proud of ya, boy,” he says. I’m lucky to have him.

Once I’m finished with Uni and get a real job, with real money, the first thing I’m going to do is hire an investigator to see what I can find out about my biological father. I wish my mum wasn’t such a bitch, and would just tell me. That’s never going to fuckin’ happen though.

When Pops first took me away from my mum and her toxicity, I moved into the clubhouse with him and his brothers. Not blood related brothers, although you’d think they were. More like brothers in arms. They’re always looking out for each other. There’s absolutely nothing they wouldn’t do for one of their brothers. I love that about them. It was something I wasn’t used to. My mum never really looked out for me.

I love her because she’s my mum. She gave birth to me. That’s the only reason though. She only gave two shits about me when it suited. That wasn’t very fuckin’ often. When I was small I didn’t know any better. It wasn’t until Pops came along, showering me with love and kindness, that I realised what a useless mother she really was.

Living at the clubhouse was an eye opener for a twelve year old, I can tell you. I loved it though. Pops sheltered me as much as he could. Not much got past me though. The Flaming Skulls MC soon became my family too. For once in my life I felt like I really mattered.

I remember when I was about fourteen. I asked my dad a question about sex. I was young and curious.

“Hey, Trixie,” he said to one of the club moles. “Teach my boy about the birds and fuckin’ bees will ya.” Oh she taught me alright. Gave me a crash course. After a half hour of show and tell, she gave me my first ever blowjob. Blew my fucking mind. I was hooked. By the time I was fifteen I was having sex almost daily. The moles at the club were easy. That was what they were there for. Our pleasure. They taught me everything I know.

There’s one thing they never taught me though. That’s how different sex is with someone you care about. Only one person on this earth has taught me that valuable lesson.
My Angel.

CHAPTER THREE

The present…

Angel

It’s been over a month and I’m still struggling to get over Chase. I don’t see him around much anymore, but when I do, my heart hurts. I remember the first few days after the incident. That’s what I call it now, when he totally brushed me off, I had to fight back the tears.

When I saw him with another girl, my heart broke all over again. I ran to the ladies’ room and cried my eyes out. It didn’t take him long to move on. I guess I need to do the same. The funny thing is, I haven’t been asked out once.

At first I thought my dad was up to his old tricks again. When I called and asked him though, he vigorously denied it. I know he wouldn’t lie to me. He’s always been forthcoming in the past about his overprotective tendencies, so there was no reason for me not to believe him this time.

Maybe Chase has been saying crap about me. Who knows? After what he did I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s definitely not the nice guy I thought he was. There’s not much I can do about it if he is. Truth is, I’m really not sure if I want to date anyway. If that’s the way guys treat you, maybe I’m better off without them.

Recently, it’s gotten so bad that I had to flee the state. I’m in Sydney at the moment. I’m flying back to Melbourne later today. I took the week off and came back home. I needed a little family therapy.

Even my friend Dana has been worried about me lately. I think it’s time I tell her what happened. She doesn’t understand what’s going on with me. All she knows is things are off. I haven’t been my usual happy-go-lucky-self since the incident with Chase.

She’s been calling me every day since I arrived. Tonight she’s coming over to my place for a girls’ night in. I’m looking forward to catching up with her. Some wine, a chick flick, my best friend and some junk food is just what I need.

I’m in my room packing the last of my things into my suitcase when my mum knocks on the door. “Can I come in, sweetheart?” she asks.

“Sure mum, you don’t have to ask.”

“Do you need a hand?”

“No, I’m almost done.”

“Is everything alright with you, Angel? I’ve noticed you’ve seemed a little down the past few days. The fact that you even came home for a week, missing all those classes, tells me something’s not right.”

“I’m fine. I was just a little homesick.” I feel terrible lying to her, but what can I say? I lost my virginity to a hot tattooed biker and he broke my heart? Nope, can’t say that.

She walks over to me, taking the last of the clothes out of my hand. After placing them in my suitcase she zips it up. She then grabs my hand and leads me over to the bed. She sits down tapping the bed beside her. I can feel a mother/daughter talk coming on.

“Honey, I’m your mum,” she says as soon as I sit, “but I’m also your friend. There’s absolutely
nothing
you can’t tell me, you know that right? You’ve lost your sparkle, so I know something’s up. Please talk to me. Ease my mind. Even your dad’s noticed things are off with you.”

“Oh mum,” I cry as I rest my head on her shoulder. She wraps me in her arms. I’m not sure if I really want to discuss this with her, but I need to talk to someone. I can’t keep it inside any longer.

“Please talk to me. I’m worried about you. You know, when I was your age I bottled things up all the time. Just like you do. You’re a lot like me, but you can’t keep it inside forever. It’ll catch up with you eventually. Trust me on that one.

I went through some things before, and after you were born. Talking helped. It wasn’t until I met your father, that I even learnt, a problem shared is a problem halved. If you don’t want to talk to me, talk to your friend Dana, anyone. Just get it off your chest.”

“What type of things did you go through?” I ask. I never knew she had problems. My parents seem like they’ve had a perfect life.

“It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you about it one day. Right now though, I need to know what’s going on with you. I’m worried about you, Angel. I’ve never seen you this down before.”

“I met a guy,” I say as I lower my head.

“I see. And?”

“He broke my heart, mum.” The tears start to fall as I bury my face in my hands and sob.

“Oh sweetheart,” she says as she wraps me in her loving arms. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She holds me tight and lets me cry. I hear her sniffle and I know she’s crying too, for me. God I love her. When the tears stop she pulls back, wiping them from my eyes before cupping my face in her hands. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

I shrug. “I might save all the gory details for Dana. Since you’re my mum and all.” She smiles.

“Things have a way of working themselves out, sweetheart. Give it time. Just so you know, if he couldn’t see how special you are, he didn’t deserve you anyway. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

My mum’s words make me smile. “I love you, mum.”

“I love you too, baby girl. I’ll always be here for you if you need to talk. About anything, okay? Your dad doesn’t need to know. It’ll stay between us.”

I wrap my arms around her. “Thank you, mum. I’m lucky to have you.” I couldn’t ask for better parents. Even though they totally gross me out with all that kissing and stuff, I love how much they love each other. I only hope I can find a guy one day, that’ll love me as much as my dad loves my mum.

I’ve seen some of my friends’ parents over the years. I know they’re not all like mine. Even what Chase said that day, about the condoms,
“At least your mum gives a shit about you I guess”
, makes me think that his home life wasn’t so great.

No, I’m definitely lucky. My parents have always been there for both me, and Chris. Sometimes I wonder why my family is so perfect.

••••

While collecting my baggage at Melbourne airport, Dana calls to say she’s just parking the car. She dropped me off at the beginning of the week, and is now picking me up.

I met her on my first day of Uni. She manages the coffee shop across the street. I stopped off on my way to class, and we hit it off. As soon as she found out I was new in town, she invited me out for drinks that weekend. We’ve been friends ever since.

Even though I’ve only known her since moving here, she’s the best friend I’ve ever had. I have friends back in Sydney, but I’ve never connected with them, not the way I have with Dana. She’s a beautiful person inside and out.

A hopeless romantic. She doesn’t have a boyfriend at the moment. She’s had plenty in the past though. She reads a lot. I mean a lot. Her head is always stuck in a damn book. A self-confessed book-whore. Trouble is, she’s become picky and can’t find a boyfriend in real life, because none of them live up to her book boyfriends.

Dana is absolutely stunning. She has flaming red hair with a fiery temper to match. Beautiful porcelain skin, blue eyes and curves in all the right places. Men love her. She has them chasing after her all the time. I’m a little envious. More often than not, she doesn’t give them the time of day. She has a list of qualities they
must
have before she’ll even date them. It’s hilarious.

The thing is, I’m pretty sure the guys in her books don’t exist. If she’s not careful she’ll end up being one of those cat ladies. All alone except for her hundreds of cats. Well she’ll always have me, but you know what I mean. The rate things are going for me right now, I may end up becoming a cat lady too.

The girls I went to school with were up themselves. Shallow, competitive and bitchy. It was a private school so only the rich could afford to send their kids. I know not all rich people are bad, I only have to look at my parents or grandparents to see that. But sometimes money brings out the worst in people. Some rich people think they’re better than others just because of the size of their bank account.

To me that’s the last quality I look for in a person. Give me kindness, honesty, warmth and compassion, above money.

Most of the girls I grew up with were fake. They’d try to give off the persona that they were nice and sweet, but deep down they were vindictive, cold-hearted bitches. I never allowed myself to get close to any of them. Sure they were beautiful on the outside. Some naturally, some medically enhanced. But their hearts were ugly.

As I grab my suitcase off the baggage carousel, thoughts of my dad flood my mind. I hated leaving him like I had earlier.

Before we left my dad insisted on driving me to the airport. My brother was going to, but dad came home from work early, just so he could do it. I knew exactly why.

He, like my mum, wanted to talk to me and make sure everything was alright. I assured him it was. I’m not sure if he believed me, but he didn’t push it. There was no way I was going to tell him what I’d told her. He’d be on the first plane down here to kick Chase’s arse.

Instead, I plastered a smile on my face and changed the subject, trying my best to reassure him I was okay. Ease his mind. I know how much he worries.

We ended up talking about school. He loves the fact that I want to follow in his footsteps. He didn’t force either one of us to do that. He wanted us to do whatever made us happy. My brother Chris, or CJ as he’s known to me and his friends, chose music. He’s in a band. Probably not dad’s first choice for him, but he’s proud of his achievements and supports him regardless.

Their band is pretty good too. They get a lot of gigs locally, and occasionally interstate. My dad has a lot of connections in the music industry through his clients at work. He offered to put in a good word for them, but CJ wouldn’t let him. He wants to make it on his own. We’re all proud of him for that.

After parking the car at the airport, my dad walked me inside. He stayed until it was time for me to go through the security checkpoint and head to the departure lounge. It was so hard to leave him. I could tell he felt the same.

“Have I told you how much I hate that you’re so far away from me?” he whispered as he pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head.

“Yes daddy, about seven billion times.” That made him chuckle.

“That many, huh?”

“Ah huh,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my cheek on his chest. I love the familiar smell of my dad’s cologne. It’s always been comforting.

“You have no idea how much I miss you. How lost I feel without you here. Every time I have to say goodbye, I feel like I’m losing you all over again.” His words brought tears to my eyes.

“You’ll never lose me, daddy. Never. You’ll always be my dad, and I’ll always be your little girl.”

“Why’d you have to grow up so quick?” he said with a sigh as he pulled back and cupped my face in his hands. The sadness I saw in his eyes as he studied my face made my heart hurt. I hate that me being away from the family is making him feel like this.

He stood there with his shoulders slumped, hands in his pockets, and watched me walk away. I kept looking over my shoulder at him. The sad expression on his face brought a lump to my throat.

Before rounding the corner, I turned and blew him a kiss. The corners of his lips turned up in the briefest of smiles, before he reached up and caught it, tucking it in his pocket for later. It brought a smile to my face as memories flooded my mind. That was something we always did when I was younger. Tears filled my eyes. When he blew me a kiss in return, I did the same thing as he had, tucked it into my pocket for later. From where I was standing, it looked like he had tears in his eyes too.

“I love you, daddy,” I mouthed, while pointing to my eye, my heart and then him.

“I love you too, princess,” he called out. I swear I heard his voice crack when he said it.

••••

On the drive back to my place, Dana decides to stop off at the shops to get what we need for our girls’ night.

“You go and grab the wine,” she says. “I’ll run across the street and get the junk food.”

“Okay,” I reply, walking away. I hadn’t even noticed the motorbike parked two spaces down from Dana’s car.

After walking into the bottle shop, I grab three bottles of our favourite wine. You know, just to be on the safe side. I really need tonight with my best friend. As I round the corner of the aisle, I walk straight into a rock-hard chest.