Page 1 of The Originals

Chapter One

Mick and Meg

Where the hell am I?

More importantly, how had she gotten talked into coming, and where was the emergency exit? So many questions and so few answers. Meg Sanders peered around the room trying to control the utter disgust marring her features. This scene went beyond the scope of indecency.

I don’t even know what I’m looking at.

At twenty-two, she was far from a prude. She’d had a few boyfriends, some lasting longer than others. She’d indulged with more sexual partners than most of her friends. If anything, she’d been considered the more adventurous of her group. However, sex wasn’t something she flaunted in a room full of people, unlike the woman on her knees servicing a biker on the couch.

Meg ducked her head, sipped her beer, and pressed her back against the wall, taking in the rest of the scene. She’d heard about the motorcycle club and their parties. It was spoken about in a hushed setting, and always about someone else.

Ghosttown Riders MC’s reputation reached far and wide. An outlaw biker gang.No, a club.She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was judgmental, but it was honest. She’d heard the stories, been privy to a shakedown in her own town at a small business, and seen a fight break out between a few members and another MC years ago at a local car show. She didn’t haveenough details to know how it started or who was responsible. But there was a clear winner. Ghosttown.

Ruthless, hell-raising criminals. That’s how they were painted, and most people bought into it, including Meg for a while. It was easier to believe the scandalous stories than to consider an alternative. Much like anything in life, the older she’d gotten and experienced, the more her perceptions changed. Meg still wasn’t sold on the idea of the members of Ghosttown MC being good guys, but she doubted they were anywhere near as bad as they were portrayed. It was one of the reasons she’d said yes when her friend, Linda, invited her to the party.

Speaking of.Meg turned slightly, sipped her beer, and waved to Linda, who was standing between two bikers. Her friend was lifted up on her toes, looking around. When their eyes met, she rushed over, sidling next to Meg.

“Isn’t this great?”

Great?That’s not the word I would use.

Linda nudged her arm against Meg. “Bet you’re glad I dragged you here, huh?”

Dragged was a bit of an exaggeration. Although Meg didn’t initially jump at the chance to go, Linda had been adamant she’d go with or without her. That had swayed Meg on a decision that she was silently considering. What good was life if she didn’t live it? A biker party wasn’t exactly checking off boxes on all the things she wanted to do, but it pulled her out of her comfort zone. Living on the edge had its intrigue.

Of course, that ended ten minutes after they’d walked in and were greeted with a less than welcoming reception from all the women. It became clear Meg and Linda were seen as competition. It was a poor interpretation on the women’s end. Maybe Linda and her excessively-friendly appeal would pique a biker’s interest, but not Meg. She was well aware of the vibe shewas projecting, and it wasn’t positive. To say she was out of her element would’ve been an understatement.

Linda, on the other hand, was totally in her comfort zone, embracing her wild child. This was not her everyday persona. That was a bit more conservative than shaking her ass in her short skirt and halter top. But everyone needed to let loose sometimes.

Meg smiled at her friend and asked, “What time do you want to leave?”

Linda halted her dancing and swung her head around, frowning. “We just got here.”

“An hour ago,” Meg stated. It was a fact, and she would know. She’d been checking her watch for the last forty minutes.

Linda let out an overly-dramatic sigh. “Don’t be like this, Meg.”

“Be like what?”

It may as well have been a rhetorical question. Meg knew exactly was Linda meant. She had enough self-awareness to know she was being a buzzkill, and her friend’s reaction confirmed it.

Linda grinned with a light chuckle and shook her head.

Meg raised her brows. “I came, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, and if you lose the sour puss and start to enjoy yourself, maybe mingle?” Linda hooked her arm over Meg’s shoulder and leaned closer to her ear. “You cancomeagain.”

There was no missing the innuendo. The likelihood of her getting together with any man at the party, biker or not, was slim. Instead of giving a hostile retort, Meg decided to ignore her friend’s comment and muddle through the next hour or two.Please, dear God, don’t let it be three.

Meg glanced around the room. It was a large, living room type setting with a bar and stools toward the back. She assumed at one time it had been someone’s family home. Considering thesize, children were probably raised in the house. All holidays were most likely spent in this very room. Meg flattened her lips and raised her brows.If they could see it now.

Meg wasn’t knowledgeable in the way of motorcycle clubs, but she assumed one of the bikers must be the owner. She scanned the men with the leather vests and Ghosttown insignia on the back. There were a lot of them. A few she’d seen around her town occasionally, but Meg had never said a single word to any of them. As far as she knew, neither had Linda until recently. Meg hadn’t asked too many details.Maybe I should’ve.

She sipped her beer and sighed. “Which one invited you to the party?”

Linda giggled and pointed across the room. “The guy in the blue shirt standing near the bar.”

---