Mandy Price is best friends with Everett, the Ol’ Lady to the Sacred Heart’s VP, and roommates with them both… No one would guess that the preacher’s daughter could have such a dark secret, but Mandy had a big one. The product of a broken childhood, Mandy lives a fractured existence. She maintains the outward appearance of normalcy, that everything is just fine, when nothing could be further from the truth. Ever the dutiful daughter, she returns to her father’s church and his table every Sunday. Trouble is, things are growing worse not better as Mandy grows into her own. It’s becoming harder and harder to maintain appearances on a daily basis and Mandy is definitely feeling the strain.
Revelator has had his eye on the innocent redhead from the moment he first saw her. Too much has been getting in the way of him pursuing the angel, prospecting for the club taking up just too damned much of his time. He was fully patched now, still, just when he was getting ready to make a move, that’s when his shop came down around his ears. Faced with rebuilding from the ground up, he’s decided that if he has to start from the beginning, he might as well go all in. If starting over is what has to happen then the life he plans on building from here on out definitely has his Red by his side and no one else’s.
It doesn’t take Rev long to find out what his girl is hiding, and when he does, someone is going to find out just how formidable he can be, not just in body, but in mind and with his brother’s backing…
“Would you move your ass if I told you Mandy was supposed to be there?” he asked.
I ducked my head out the open bathroom doorway. That girl was sweet as fucking pie and I had it worse than bad for her.
“Is she?” I asked.
Disney scowled at me.
He crossed his arms over his cut. I rolled my eyes, took one last glance in the mirror, sprayed some cologne between my shoulders and called it good. I hit the bathroom light and stepped out into the hall.
“She better be there, now, or I’ma sit on you,” I threatened.
Disney grinned, a twinkle in his eye and waved his hand at me in the classic effeminate-gay-man way and, affecting that horrible accent, said, “Oh, stop!”
I laughed and went into my room and pulled on my long, light-denim jean shorts. I pulled on some white athletic socks and stuffed my feet into my red Converse.
“Seriously though, she gonna be there?” I asked. I wanted to know. The girl had pretty much been under my skin since the moment I first laid eyes on her. It wasn’t just that she was fucking gorgeous, she was all fucking woman. Lush curves and soft skin, with eyes the color of autumn and hair to match. I wanted her so fucking bad, and she would be mine. Oh, yes! She would be mine.
I had just met her at a bad time to make it so right away. I had just accepted a hang-around cut and was trying to become a prospect with the MC. It was a labor of love but also really damned time-consuming and my number-one priority at the time. Finally, I had become a fully-patched member, but then my business got blowed up, and if it wasn’t one thing, it was another, and I was just plain sick of all of it getting in the way now. I needed to act, stop putting it off, and really go for it. I was in it to win it, and I wanted to start as soon as possible. I was half-afraid if I didn’t get off my ass and do something that I was going to miss the opportunity all together, and I would be fucked if I let that happen.
“He likes you,” she said, and I scowled.
“Who Zander?” I asked without thinking. She laughed.
“Well, him, too, he said as much last Saturday night,”
I frowned, “He has a fantastic way of showing it,” I muttered darkly. Everett sighed and slipped up onto the stool Zeb had vacated.
Zander… One moment he’d seemed so very enthusiastic about seeing me, dating me… then we had actually set a date and I’d wound up sitting in a restaurant an hour and more waiting for him to arrive. He hadn’t. No call, no text, no response to my calls or texts. Dray had told me that Zander was a prospect and that it happened sometimes. That prospects were a lot like fraternity pledges and they were all-in until they became fully-patched members or brothers. It’d made sense, but it had still hurt, and then I had just plain gotten angry when I’d simply never heard from him again. We’d crossed paths over the last year or so but he would simply watch me, never really saying much, an odd little half-smile on his lips.
I’d asked him why. Why had he stood me up; why the silence, after expressing such a keen interest, and all he’d given me was a simple, nonchalant one-shouldered shrug and a sniffed “I got busy.”
It’d been cold, and had hurt deeply. I had felt like it was high school all over again.
Text Copyright © 2015 A.J. Downey
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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