Chapter 1

Cole

California

 

Dear Diary,

When I met Grim, my heart did a pitter patter, then it stumbled and paused for a beat. I’d never felt something so intense for another person before. Not even the day I held my Sarah. No man had ever looked into my eyes the way he did. God, did he seem to get lost in the flecks of gold and yellow when he stared deep into my soul. I never felt so bare, so raw, so wanted. He made me feel so alive. He gives me this feeling that I never want to lose. It’s hard to put into words. My daddy told me that when you met your soulmate you just know.

Grim was my soulmate, or so I had thought, until he cheated on me. There is so much I want to say to him, but I don’t know how. It’d be so easy to tell him the truth and break his heart as he did mine, but I won’t hurt him like he has me. Despite it all, I love him too much to do that to him. I know how much this baby growing inside me means to him. This child makes his world go round, and well, Grim somehow makes me feel like just maybe the sun can hug the moon.

I know he wants me back.

I miss him too.

I’m so lost. I don’t know what to do. Do I do what I set out to do, or do I take a chance on true love? Do I take a chance on Grim?

Gypsy Red, xx

 

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight, was good. I saw Grim, he took me for a ride to look at some property with Slim and Foxie. I get this weird feeling when Slim looks at me. He has secrets, we all do. But, I’m afraid for Grim and what those secrets will do to him when they come out. Secrets always have a way of being exposed. I should know. One day I will have to tell Grim all of my truths. I don’t want to think about that though. I’m home with him, finally. Today, I choose to be happy and live in the moment, however fleeting it might be. I’m not stupid, and I know that one day this will all end. Him and me, happy, in love, preparing to welcome a baby into the world…it’s so much more than I deserve.

I’ve done some horrible things. My sweet daughter is paying the price of my mistakes. I’m scared that she will never be in my arms again.

Grim tells me he loves me and all the bad disappears. He makes me think just maybe everything will be okay. He promised to get my Sarah back, and I know he’s a man of his word. Maybe one day I will be a woman of mine.

Gypsy Red, xx

 

Flipping the old book shut, I blow out a long sigh, that’s where her story ends. My mother added a few entries of her own, but they only add to the mystery of who I am or was. I’ve spent the past two days reading through this old journal. The Diary of Gypsy Red. From what I’ve read, she was my grandmother. My maternal grandmother. Apparently, my name isn’t really Cole and technically, I shouldn’t have graduated high school until next year, but whatever.

When I ask my mom about her family she blows me off, saying she never knew her mother and that her father went to prison. My father is no better, just says his father was a piece of shit and that his mother was crazy as fuck.

Gypsy Red lived one hell of a life.

She was a crazy bitch too.

She really fucking lived.

I want that.

I want to travel and find my place in the world. The open road calls to me, singing her lone song in my ear, as though it’s the only song that can calm my restless soul. When I sleep, the road is all I dream of; Open highway stretching for miles, and the rumble of my motorcycle is all I need.

The more I think about it, the harder the urge to just fucking go drives me. My old man gets it. I think he gets that feeling too. There are times when he says to me, “Let’s ride.” And we do, we will ride for two or three days at a time, only stopping to eat and shit, or so he can check in with my mom.

Been going on rides with him since I was fifteen. Mom didn’t like it at first—me on the road. What my mom doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

She’d really flip her shit if she knew the old man was feeding me liquor and smoking pot with me. He says it’s in my blood…the road, liquor, smoking, and women.

Damn, if I don’t come by my love of women honestly. My dad loves to fucking look, but he never touches. He loves my mom, even a dead man could see that. However, it hasn’t stopped him from taking me out to bars and seeing to it that I’ve had my share of easy pussy.

Sometimes, I think my father misses the life he was living before we became the Johnsons. The man he was is still buried beneath his skin—Thomas ‘Striker’ Black was a far cry from Nash Johnson. I see that man when we go on a ride. I see that man when I look in the mirror, begging to come out. Begging to live. Really fucking live. I feel it in my blood.  A darkness runs through me, it begs to be set free, but I’m afraid if I do that, it’ll consume me. The thought scares me and excites me.

If my mom had shit her way I’d be off to college in the fall, but that’s not happening. I gotta get out of here. My old man tells me to shit in one hand and wish in the other and to see which one fills up faster, that there is the meaning of life, or so he believes.

I am my father’s son though. I want to know where he comes from—where I, Colt Black came from.

Tucking the diary in my bag along with my savings and a change of clothes, I sling the bag over my shoulder. As I walk down the stairs, our family portrait stares at me, and I can feel my mother’s eyes following me, judging me, telling me, “Please don’t go.”

“I have to go,” I say under my breath to her photograph. When I reach the bottom step, Sara pops up on the couch. I’m supposed to be watching her. Our folks went to dinner. It’s their date night.

My little sister drives me nuts, but I love her.

“Hey, fart breath.” I pinch her freckled cheek.

“Fart knocker,” she says with a giggle. “Mom know you’re leaving?” She questions with bright eyes, when she notices my keys in my hand.

I shake my head. “No. You aren’t going to tell her either. When they get back, tell them I went to bed early. I mean it, Sara. I need you to do this for me.”

Chewing on her bottom lip, she has this sad expression in her eyes. Somehow, she knows I’m not coming back.

“I’ll text you in a day or two.  But, it has to be our secret. Mom can’t know where I’m at. She’ll just make me come back.”  My sister knows how hard mom rides my ass about school. I need a breather. My whole fucking life has been nothing but one big lie.

Reaching into my bag I grab the diary. “Here, read this when you’re alone. Don’t show it to anyone, Sara. I mean it. Not mom, dad, your friends. Keep it safe. Guard it with your life. Someday, you’ll understand and when you have questions, I hope to have answers.” There are things inside that book that will shake her to the core, things that are probably too raw and real for her young eyes, but Sara deserves the truth the same as I do. Maybe it will make her grow up some.

She nods even though she doesn’t really get it, not yet anyway. “Where are you going?”

“To find the truth. Lock the door behind me. Don’t be inviting the tick turd Warren over either.”

She sticks her tongue out at me, clutching the story of our grandma to her chest. Her pink nail polish is chipped at the tips as a tear rolls down her cheek. I burn our parting image into my brain, hoping it’s not the last time I see her. 

**

Two weeks later

My bike is rolling on fumes as I pull in at the dusty truck stop somewhere between California and the Midwest. I’ve just been riding, pushing my body and my motorcycle to the limit. It’s been nothing but the open road and me. My head doesn’t feel any damn clearer. If anything, I feel more confused. Parking my bike, I stretch, rolling my neck, breathing in the truck fumes.

Antsy, I scan the lot. Don’t know why I’m paranoid. Guess I’m afraid my overbearing mother will show up to drag my ass home. She’s been mild when I’ve spoken with dad. I expected her to flip out. The old man says he has her under control, to do what I need to, take my time, and clear my mind. He doesn’t know that I know the truth, well, the lie I suppose. When I get to Kentucky, I’ll be finding my grandpa—Grim.

From what I read about him on the internet, about the time he was raided by the FEDS and went to prison, he’s one bad motherfucker. Will he know who I am? Does he still talk to my mom? Does he ever wonder what became of us? Did he send us away? So many questions run through my head as I walk inside the gas station to take a piss and pay for my gas.

Inside, a girl about my age is working behind the counter. She’s kinda pretty in that girl next door way. Her brown hair is cut short, hugging her chin. Her green eyes light up as she takes me in. I’m sure I look rough as fuck from riding hard, but in her eyes, I’m the bad boy her daddy warned her about. She wants to know if a good girl can break a bad boy like me and make me wanna be good. The question is written all over her face. The answer is fuck no, but damn if I won’t let her try.

“You aren’t from around here, are you?” She smiles, exposing a dimple in her right cheek. It’s sexy.

“Nope, passing through. What’s there to do around here for fun?”

“I get off in twenty minutes,” she says appearing bold, but I can see the slight shake in her hand as I hand her my card.

“Sweetheart, I guarantee you’ll get off, but won’t take no twenty minutes.” I smirk as her cheeks flush. “Twenty minutes, I’ll be waiting.”  I wink as she slides my card back in the palm of my hand, her fingers brush against mine and she bites her lip. It’s too fucking easy sometimes. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

I move off to the bathroom as the man in line behind me clears his throat.

I’m at the sink washing my hands when the door opens, a wave of perfume proceeds her. Didn’t take long at all.

“I uh…got off early,” her voice scratches in her throat.

Without a word, I dry my hands, and cross the room, locking the door behind her. She nearly jumps when my shoulder bumps hers. “Easy sweetheart, I don’t bite…hard,” I tease, as she laughs nervously.

Not wasting anytime, I pick her up, sitting her on the sink as she squeaks. Her arms circle my neck as her legs stay wrapped around me. “Hi,” I say, dipping my head.

“What’s your name?” She looks up at me with such adoration, I almost feel bad, almost.

I shut down her questions, putting a finger to her soft lips.  “Shh.”  Replacing my finger with my lips, I get a small taste of her mint lip balm. She doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing, and I don’t have time to show her. Her tongue darts out, sloppy and awkward. I should feel bad but I don’t. Getting straight to it, I pepper kisses down her throat and palm her tit.

Her moan is subtle, soft, sweet. Corrupting this good girl going bad makes the head of my cock swell. “My name’s Sarah.” Her words are like a knife to my dick. I can’t be fucking some chick that has the same name as my sister.

Pulled from the moment, I wipe my fingers through my hair. “It’s been real, it’s been fun, but I gotta go.”  My sudden change in mood has her confused, but I don’t stick around to explain. Only offering her the words, “Nothing personal. You were great.”

Back on the road, it’s just me, my thoughts, and the corn snakes for company.

Nash

California

Goddamn, I’m gonna wring that boy’s motherfuckin’ neck when I get ahold of him. Taking off like he did, making his mom worry. Fucking left Sara home alone. Little shithead knows the rules and he broke them. I told him to let me handle Karly, but I guess the call of the road was too much. It’s a song I know all too well.

He’s too much like me. Fucking goes through more girls than ought to be legal, but I told him he’s only young once, to enjoy it will he can. When he meets his match, she’ll be leading him around by his dick like his mom does me.

Karly is driving me fuckin nuts. Telling me to go after him and drag our boy’s ass back home. I don’t care that he’s out on his own. He can handle himself. I taught him well, but he could’ve fuckin came to me and told me he wanted to go. I would’ve got my woman onboard. She’s cried herself to sleep for the past two weeks.

“A mother’s love for her son is something you can’t understand,” she told me when I tried to talk some sense into her.

I told her that we can track him with his bank card and his cell phone. I have to admit I wasn’t expecting him to go so far east. I suspected he’d maybe head to Vegas or go north, but not east. Him going east isn’t weird, it’s just we left our old lives there—our pasts…Drag Creek——Black Rebel Riders’ MC.

When Cole took off, Karly flipped. She didn’t even want to allow Sara go to summer cheer camp. Thankfully, she changed her mind. I never would have thought I’d be a Goddamned cheer parent, but I am.

I’d do anything for my baby girl. I’d do anything for my family. California has been good to us. Against all odds, we’ve made a damn good life here. I started my own custom shop, my passion for motorcycles still drives me, but I do a lot of different restoration jobs. Last week, I restored a vintage barber’s chair.

Karly works as the social director at a special needs home. Assisted living for adults. Her favorite client is Cacey, a guy who is twenty-seven in age, but mentally he’s more like nine.  We were able to take him to Disney with us last year. He had the best time. Seeing Karly working with him is amazing. She has so much patience and is so understanding of his needs. I’d never be able to do what she does. However, the old her never would have been so patient. She has changed a lot for the better. We both have matured.

It gets stressful at times, but she loves her work. I’ve never seen her more passionate about anything in her life, except maybe my dick.  A smile stretches across my face when she comes through the door after a long day at work.

Love seeing her sexy fucking legs, and tight ass in that grey fitted skirt she is wearing.

She’s one of those women who gets better with age. There’s been times I wasn’t sure we’d make it this far. That after all this time that we’d still be just as attracted to one another as we were nearly twenty years ago. It’s always been her for me. Sure, I fucked other women, had other women before her, and once after her, but she’s it for me. I couldn’t imagine my life any other way.

Kicking off her heels, she tosses her purse onto a nearby chair, and lets down her gorgeous red hair that I love to wrap my hands up in. “You heard from Cole today?”

“Called this morning. He’s fine. Having a good time. Sightseeing and shit.” I grin, meeting her in the kitchen, pouring the glass of wine I know she was going for. “Love you in this skirt,” I compliment her before grabbing that thick ass that owns me.

Her lips melt into mine offering me a thank you kiss. “I love you,” Karly says softly, taking the wine from the counter and filling the glass to the brim.

“Rough day?”

“You have no idea.” She sighs, and I step around her to rub her shoulders as she takes a long satisfying drink.

“Tonight, no talking about work or the kids. We have the house to ourselves, and I want you naked.” I work my fingers down her spine, aiming for the zipper of her skirt.

“Nash,” she says with a laugh trying to twist away.

“Nu uh,” I tell her as I press my weight against her, pushing her into the counter. Sweeping her hair to one shoulder, my lips brush her exposed ear. “Taking what I want, baby. I’m not asking.” Licking the shell of her delicate lobe, I continue to unzip her skirt. A polite moan leaves her lips as I continue to kiss down her neck and along her collarbone. Her skirt falls to her feet exposing her silk thong.

My dick practically weeps at the sight of her juicy ass, dying to slide between her cheeks and sink deep in her tight cunt that curves to my fit. Been fucking her since she was barely a woman and still can’t get enough. If anything, I find I want her more with every passing day.

Her ass arches into the nook of my crotch, and my dick stretches against the seam of my jeans, eager to seek out her velvety heat.

Her wine and her worries are long forgotten when I drop to my knees and pay worship to her pussy with my tongue. My fingers dig hard into her shapely curves, feasting like a dying man, getting his last meal. I suck her pulsing clit between my lips, not letting her go while she tries to wiggle free as my fingers tease her ass and play with the heart of her desire.

Her hands are gripping my hair, digging her nails into my scalp as she cums on my tongue. Goddamn, if she doesn’t taste like motherfuckin’ perfection, I don’t know what does.