Angels and Ashes (Heaven's Rejects MC Book 2) (5 page)

“Ignoring her for you will set her off?” I ask just as an idea pops into my head. “I bet I know a way to shut her up permanently when it comes to you. I just have one question: you have an old man I need to know about?”

“Fuck no; the only man in my life is my vibrator that is desperately in need of new batteries. Why?”

“You game?”

Michelle stares at me before she shakes her head and laughs. “You’re kidding, right? Like I would even be your type.”

“Babe, you’re definitely my type, and if this is a means to an end to make
Fuck Me Barbie
give you some respect, it’s a job I’ll do freely since I’ve been thinking about that nice ass of yours every time you walked away from me tonight.”

Arousal and amusement quickly flash across her face before she nods in agreement with my proposal. Leaning back, I remove my hand from the wall and take hers in my hand, leading her to the small space between the dressing room and the backstage storage area. I settle us in the dark and semi-private space, pushing her back against the cool metal of the dressing room’s outer wall.

“Raze, we can’t do this shit here.”

“Who the hell is going to stop us?”

Grabbing her wrists in one hand, I thrust them over her head before tracing my tongue down the left side of her neck to the top of her cleavage. Her breath hitches as I move my mouth to one of her nipples through her shirt. A moan slips from her pursed lips at the contact and she begins to grind her hips against my growing cock. This might not be the way I had planned for the night to end, but if it’ll fuck with Barbie and give Michelle some respect, I’ll do it.

Michelle’s hands writhe under my hold, begging to be released while my free hand moves farther down her body and slips under her skirt. My rough fingers graze her soaked panties, eliciting quivers from her body. Sliding the wet material to the side, I slip one finger into her glistening heat and circle her clit. A loud moan ripples from her mouth as her grinding intensifies with each pass I make. I remove my finger and release her bound wrists, quickly spinning her to face the wall.

Dropping to my knees behind her, I slide her panties down her long legs and toss them to the side on top of a stack of guitar cases. Shifting her skirt up over her hips, I see her pussy is gleaming it’s so wet. I slide my tongue through her folds and slide a finger inside of her tight core while she moans louder. I circle my tongue around her clit and finger fuck her. Her muscles begin to contract around my finger indicating how close she is. Breaking the contact from her, I rise from my kneeling position and begin to unfasten my belt buckle just as Barbie rounds the corner of the dressing room. Her eyes grow wide watching my cock spring from my jeans. Grabbing a condom from my back pocket, I slide the latex over my cock and position it at Michelle’s entrance.

“It’s going to be fast and hard, babe.”

Michelle’s head bobs in agreement as I push my aching cock inside her. Fuck, she’s so tight and warm. She wasn’t lying when she said that her pussy hadn’t been used in years with her walls squeezing the hell out of my dick. Sliding out of her and thrusting into her at a rapid pace, Barbie’s eyes never leave the scene in front of her. I increase my rhythm and Michelle’s moans grow louder with each thrust as I hold on to her perfect tits for leverage. Her muscles contract harder just when I find my own release. Michelle’s body jerks in response to mine when her orgasm overcomes her while I continue to thrust into her body.

Pulling out of her wanton body, I slip the condom off my shrinking dick and tie a knot in the end before tossing it in the garbage can to our left. Pushing my cock back into my jeans, I zip up my jeans and help Michelle back up and straighten her rumpled skirt. Michelle turns and pulls my mouth to hers, her tongue pushing into my mouth. Pulling away from her lips, Michelle’s eyes lock on Barbie’s before she turns to stomp off. We both laugh as I loop my arm around her shoulders and leave our little fuck nest. I’m sure half the fucking crew heard her moans, but what the fuck do I care? I’ll never see her again, but our little fun fuck was one of the best I’ve had in the last year, even if it was a quickie.

By the time Michelle and I make it out to the loading dock behind the concert hall, Barbie’s already on her bus and is as quiet as a sinner on confessional day. I walk Michelle up to the tour bus and kiss her one last time while Barbie watches from the tinted windows of her bus seat. Michelle turns back and smiles at me before disappearing onto the bus and out of my life.

Without any words, Michelle understood what that was and knew there was never going to be a next time. A woman like her should be fucked more regularly by a man who knows what the hell he’s doing, but that’s not me. I wish more of the women that have warmed my bed would have the same level of recognition as her, but I don’t always pick the smartest girls to fuck. I watch while the bus pulls away, signaling my security duty is officially over. Making my way over to my blue and chrome Harley Davidson parked against the side of the building, I throw my leg over the cool leather and start the engine. Popping up the kickstand, I pull away from the building and let the open road clear my head. There’s only one place left to go: the Heaven’s Rejects’ clubhouse.

It can’t be from Brent.

My breath hitches as I stare at the letter in my hands.
How is this even possible?
It’s been a year. Clutching the crumpled letter to my chest, I reach down to retrieve Roxie and her car seat before sliding my keys into the lock and stepping inside the house. I walk over to the kitchen island still covered in the boy’s breakfast plates and gingerly lay the letter down in a clean spot. Roxie begins to fuss, so I set her down and unbuckle the straps. Lifting her from the seat, I cradle her in my arms and walk over to the love seat. It takes just a few minutes before she’s asleep for her mid-morning nap. The entire time I was rocking her I stared at the letter from a ghost and half expected it to just vanish.

Gradually, I rise and place Roxie into the second bassinet I keep in the dining room so I can work while she naps. She coos and cuddles into the soft blanket I swaddle around her before her breathing becomes steady and even again. If she sticks to her schedule, I have just forty-five minutes before she’ll be ready to play and eat again. Forty-five minutes to decide if I even want to open the letter or just burn it because I honestly don’t know if I’m ready to read what it might contain. What if Brent had some post-death confession about an affair, or this is his version of a fucked up Hollywood romance movie?

The fact that there is a letter isn’t why I am hesitating—Brent used to write me letters all the time while we were dating. He was always very old-fashioned and truly tried to romance me as often as he could when he was home. It was his way of letting me know how much he loved me and to give me memories that could never fade away. I saved every single letter, and in the last year, I have read each and every one of those letters a million times; they’ve even begun to fray at the edges. Other than my children, those letters are the only thing I have left of him that can continue to preserve his memory. I’m not sure if I can physically sustain another blow to my already shattered heart.

You can do this, Darcy. It’s far easier to rip the Band-Aid off now than to let it burn a hole in your heart from fear and speculation.

Walking over to the dirty counter, I pick up the letter once more and just stare at my husband’s scribbled writing for what seems like a millennium. So many mixed emotions barrel into my mind all at once to the point I feel like that little girl in that new Disney movie. Fear, disgust, joy, sadness, and anger flourish as my fingers begin to tremble when I flip the letter over. The envelope is sealed with a smiley face sticker that I know came from one of the boys’ coloring books because there are a thousand sheets of them in my desk. The sudden realization that Brent wrote this letter in our home nearly stops my heart.
How long ago was this written?

I bring the back of the envelope to my lips, inhaling his cologne scented on the old paper. Laying a chaste kiss at its seal, I pull the letter away from my face and walk toward the junk drawer in the kitchen that houses the letter opener. It’s all I can do to contain myself from ripping it apart, but deep down, I know that I may need to turn this over to the police or even some of the men that I have been considering contacting that remain outside of the law.

Slipping the sharp edge of the letter opener underneath the seal, I slice open the envelope. I pull out a thrice-folded piece of paper before quietly slipping outside onto the covered porch to read it. I settle into the rocking chair that Brent made for me, unfolding the paper gingerly while smoothing out the edges on my leg. The first two words are all that I need before the tears begin to flow.

Hi Belle,

As much as it fucking sucks to say this, if you are reading this then I am not with you anymore. You know that I wanted nothing more than to spend my days growing old next to you. Without even knowing what ended my life, you need to know that I never wanted to leave your side. You’re probably angry at the world right now, but I don’t want you to be. Our boys need their mother to be strong. Please promise me, Belle, that you won’t hide away from the world. I know you’ve thought about sending the boys to your mothers by now, but please don’t. They need for you to help them make sense of the world without me. Those two little boys are the only connection you have of me left and I want you to pull them close and shower them with love from the both of us.

This might be sappy shit, but I still remember the first day I saw you. It was like the skies had opened up and painted you in heavenly light the moment my eyes connected with yours. I remember thinking how in the fuck do I get a girl like that and when you smiled at me, I handed you my heart on a silver platter right then and there. Even if you wouldn’t have given me the time of day, I would have spent the rest of my life pining after you because with just one look and that sexy little smile of yours, I was fucked for life. I knew from that one glance that you were the only one who could teach this old man how to live again.

I know right now you think you’ll never love again, but I know you will someday. I want you to take time to heal my void and to figure out your new life, but I don’t want you fucking moping around in a moo moo eating moon pies. As much as it hurts to think of another man touching you, I need to know you’re happy. A world without your smile wouldn’t be worth living in, Belle. I want you to find someone out there that makes you happy again and when you smile for him, you’ll be smiling at me, too.

Please don’t blame the club. I dragged you into the life of a biker’s wife, but seeing you and our family interacting with my brothers is one of the happiest moments of my life. You didn’t question why I needed them and you let them into our lives like real family. It takes a special woman to love a man like me and I thank god every day that you agreed to give me a chance.

Be happy for me, Darcy, and every time you feel the sun shining on your face that’s me, covering you in my love.

I love you, Belle, and will always love you even now as I am not on this earth. Tell the boys I love them and raise them to be the men I know they are destined to be.

Brent

P.S. I hate to ask this of you but you are the only one I trust to make sure that my wishes are carried out. There’s a file of information hidden under the floorboard of our favorite spot that you need to give to Raze. There are traitors in the club’s midst and I don’t want you to get wrapped up in the problem. Promise me you won’t open it, Belle, and just let Raze handle it. I love you, my sweet southern belle. I’ll see you again someday.

Setting the letter down on my lap, my hands fly to my face to mute my sobs. Seeing his scribbled penmanship was one thing, but to discover that my suspicions were correct about his accident brings the weight of the world down upon me once more. I knew that motherfucking club was the cause of his death, but knowing that Brent walked into the pits of hell because of traitors to the club makes my blood boil and my heart break all over again.

I stew in sorrow and rage then Roxie wakes from her nap and begins to fuss. Leaving the letter behind on the seat of the chair, I briskly enter the house and hold her tightly as I sob uncontrollably and seethe with anger. I walk over to the kitchen and fix her a bottle while she continues to fuss in my arms. Roxie seems to always know when I’m upset because she fusses until I quit sobbing. Tracing my finger along her cherub face, I make a decision that could possibly change our entire lives. Once she’s finished, I change her diaper and put her in the electric swing and turn on the music. She coos and watches the mobile of giraffes and elephants swing as I walk back over to my purse, retrieving my cell phone from the front pocket.

I quickly dial a familiar number and wait—it takes two rings before her voice comes through the earpiece.

“Hey, sexy mama,” Dani says playfully. Judging by the music and noise in the background, I have a sneaking suspicion she’s at the clubhouse.