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There’s some truth to the saying that you are what your mother made you.
At least in my case, that was God’s honest truth.
When you hear every day, “I don’t know why you are trying so hard in school, you won't be going anywhere like me.”
Oh, and my personal favorite, “You’ve got good looks from me, a body that men cry over, use it.”
So, when around our small town, your own mother is known as a town tramp, they automatically loop you into that same category, never mind that you are still a virgin at the time.
And one day while I was waiting for my turn to get my toes done, I heard a woman named Lizette talking about all the things she was able to have because of our local MC. I walked over and talked to her.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
I’ve been a club girl for over a year now and thanks to Lizette, I finally found a place where I felt as if I truly belonged.
Not only did I have a roof over my head, food at the ready, hot men to look at all day, but I also made the calls.
The only two I ever made were that I didn’t sleep with married men, and I didn’t take it up the ass. Everything else was fair game.
I also got to say no when I was on the rag. Because believe me, there were some brothers that got off on that stuff, and it was just freaking weird.
However, there was something that I have never experienced. You know the feeling you get when you look at someone… someone that is fucking edible and delicious and just so mesmerizing that it does something to your body?
The one where you get wet and have to tighten your thighs to stay in control of your body?
The feeling erupts without them even having to touch you…
What I didn’t know was even though I've never had this feeling, I would be getting it later in the day.
Chapter 2
Pipe
Once we entered the main room of the clubhouse, my eyes landed on Asher as he nodded, then he looked over to Whit and waved two fingers.
As soon as every brother was in the room we used for church, with our phones sitting in a box on a table right outside of the room, the doors were closed.
Was it bad that I had clocked the woman I had seen in the back of that truck bed walking through the main room and down a hall, but I couldn’t tell you where my wife went? Probably.
As soon as Asher banged the gavel on the table that held the insignia for Zagan MC, a fire-breathing dragon with skulls littering the ground at his feet, everyone stopped talking.
I stood with my arms crossed against the back wall.
“Not only is one of our own coming home to stay and retake his bottom rocker, but we also have two prospects that we need to vote on whether they have what it takes to become a brother.”
Everyone nodded and then Asher spoke to me, “Pipe, known you for a lot of years. Only a few of us know why you left, so you need to explain before we take it to a vote.”
I nodded, then took in a deep breath and started, “Most of you know I’m married. No. I didn’t make her my ole’ lady. At first, she wanted it, but she never wanted to come to club parties when I prospected, and she never wanted to ride on the back of my bike. Her father is from the right side of the tracks, and I was from the wrong side. I fell in love with her instantly. Well, what I thought love was, but I was a goddamned fool. She only married me to piss her father off because he wouldn’t buy her the car she wanted. She got it anyway. And when she tried to divorce me, her father told her she couldn’t. That it has never happened in their family, and she wasn’t going to be the one to start it because she threw a temper tantrum.
Anyway, her father is a bigwig. We’re talking running for the senate and shit. So, when he let us know that he wanted all of us with him on his campaign trail, I fucking tried. I tried to be a good husband despite the shit she threw at me. I had made vows, and I fully intended to carry them out. That was why I went nomad. Without the kutte, and when she threw her temper tantrums in restaurants and crap, I had to handle business myself. Five on one, I could handle, but not ten on one. That was the first time I really grew to resent her. I’m talking about we don’t sleep in the same bed, or even in the same room, and we haven’t in over ten years. I’ve also been faithful, where she has not.
I know what you’re thinking. Why have I stuck it out this long, and not divorced her ass, and why am I just now coming back to my brothers? I got my ass handed to me. She slept with an underboss. One who was married to the daughter of the capo and if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be an underboss. So, she put the call to her family to have my wife taken out, but me being me, being loyal as fuck to her for fuck-all I don’t know why I defended her when ten men stormed into our house three months ago. I just got done with physical therapy and I will always carry a limp. The only reason she and I are still breathing was because of my loyalty to her.
Now, why am I back here finally? Because I have finally had enough. I broke and did something I vowed I would never do. When she didn’t come to the hospital while I was in surgery to fix the mess they had created. When she didn’t come to my physical therapy appointments, I got home and found her in her bed with two other men. I didn’t do a damn thing to them, but I did backhand my wife. Now, to the question of why I am still married to the she-bitch from hell, her father has a video. When I was jumped by five men, I killed all five of them. If that video ever surfaces, I’m looking at twenty years to life in a maximum-security prison. Doesn’t matter that it was self-defense in my eyes. They had started to retreat, you can see it in the video, only I didn’t let them walk out of that alley alive. If I don’t stay married to his daughter, that video will be released.”
I swallowed then; I needed a drink.
Luckily, Whit, the VP, stood up, opened the door, and called for beers.
