Charge: A Steel Bones Motorcycle Club Romance by Cate C. Wells

Author:Cate C. Wells [Wells, Cate C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-23T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

CHARGE

I stand in that fuckin’ window, staring at the door to Kayla’s place, wonderin’ how Nickel and Creech and all my other hot-headed brothers handle the fuckin’ rage. I know I’m made different than them. The hippie bitch who birthed me gifted me a good dose of mellow in my DNA, and Boots laughs at the good and the bad alike.

What the fuck am I goin’ to do with this killin’ urge when there’s no motherfucker to put down? Maybe if Kayla’s shitty excuses for parents did what they were supposed to do at the time, there’d be a name. Leads. But six, seven years on?

Who remembers who all was at a kegger when they was fifteen?

One thing for sure: that fucker who let his little girl out of his sight to walk into trouble and then didn’t have her back after? No kind of father at all.

Not all my brothers are stand-up. Bullet, for one, has a bad record when it comes to child support. Dude cannot grasp that givin’ his old lady a sack of cash when he wins at the races and then going into arrears when shit gets lean is not acceptable support in the eyes of the state. But there’s not a one of them that wouldn’t paint the walls with blood if a fucker touched his kid.

My body ain’t used to this shit. Muscles bunched to cramping, gut sour, fuckin’ fists locked so hard my knuckles look like they gonna bust from the skin. A ride would chill me out, but I ain’t movin’ from this house. She may not be in my bed, but that girl across the parking pad is mine. Her boy, too.

I don’t know when it happened.

And it’s strange. I was addicted to Harper. Wild for her classy pussy. Ate shit from my brothers for years for puttin’ up with her drama. But I never felt this click. One minute I’m checkin’ out a sweet peach of an ass, then click, next minute my soul is fuckin’ sick cause I can’t go back in time and kill a man. Men.

Fuck.

I need to do something.

That girl and her boy need to be under my roof.

Fuck. I need a god damn roof. And I don’t know what I’m thinkin’, but an hour later I’ve got a measuring tape and a hammer, up in the attic, with floorboards pried up, examinin’ the joists. Checkin’ to see if they’d hold a second floor.

“Fuckin’ squirrel! Get out of my damn attic!” Pops yells at one point, and I hear a thump, likely from a thrown boot.

“Go back to sleep!” I holler back.

He’s been after me—since Harper and I split—to move back in. I didn’t want to do that, didn’t want to go backwards in my life.

Now, though, one thing I know with some clarity. Bein’ with Harper wasn’t movin’ forwards. Bein’ with her demanded nothin’ from me. I just had to go along with the good times.

Kayla, though…my girl is work. But she’s worth the work.

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