Page 1 of Grease's Guide

Prologue

Grease

Three years earlier:

“Yo Grease, the new sitter is supposed to be here any minute. Can you head to the gate and show her in?” Swift asks, running his hands through his hair while holding his son Knox in his arms. It feels like just yesterday that Piper was coming into our lives. Now, our Prez not only has a wife but a child as well. Not to mention our VP and his wife and daughter.

“Of course, Prez. What's the bird's name?” I ask, already turning and heading to the door.

“Becky Dawson. A cab was bringing her by. I will call Piper and have her come up here to meet her as well. I was trying to let her nap,” he says, turning and heading back to his office.

Stepping outside, I pull the pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of my club vest. As I walk up the gravel driveway to the gate, I take a hard pull and watch the smoke fade into the air. I can't shake the restless feelings weighing me down lately. There's this feeling inside me like I'm missing something, and nothing I do seems to make it better.

I tired of the bar scene over a year ago. Meaningless sex has never really been my thing. As much as I joke and play around, I’ve always been a commitment type of guy. Right out of high school, I went through a wild phase, trying to get over a long relationship.

My story isn't much different from many others. We had been together since freshman year. I was the bad boy; she was the good girl rebelling against Daddy. At first, we were happy, and I thought I was in love. Looking back, I know it was more of friendship and puppy love. She was the only one in that town to give me a chance before I found my brothers and the club. I didn't have a great home life, but she made me feel special. Then, she went to college. I went to surprise her one weekend only to find her with some other guy. I wasn't heartbroken over the relationship; it was more of our friendship and trust. I realize that now, back then, I went to anger. The fucker wanted to taunt me over ‘stealing my girl,’ so I whooped his ass.

I landed in jail for assault, but when Carrie, my ex, came to visit me and asked for some time, I just washed my hands of it. She begged me to wait for her. She wanted to live her college life but come home to me and settle down like we had planned. She wanted me to wait in this town for her. To sit here and twiddle my fucking thumbs while she went and lived her best life. The problem was, I wanted her to live her life and be happy. I just didn't want the future we had planned out anymore. After catching her with someone else, I realized we were never truly meant to be together. So I told her I was done. I didn't want that life anymore.

I was working in an old garage when I first met Swift. He saw my bike, the one I custom built myself, out in front of the shop and wanted to know where I got it. When I told him I restored it fromthe ground up, he told me about the club he had just started. He told me I should prospect. I could be a part of a close family. I thought it over and went to find him three days later. I’ve never looked back. That first year, I ran wild, thinking I was hot shit for being in a club. I wanted to forget the betrayal and just live. It only took a year to get over that bullshit and realize I wasn't meant for meaningless sex.

I’ve dated here and there, but nothing has stuck. After seeing my brothers find true happiness and partnership, I realized that's what I want. The problem is, I’m your typical good-time guy. At least those are the vibes women say I give off. Someone to rock their fucking world, but not someone to spend their life with.

Call me a pussy, but I want the one woman made for me. I want to build her a dream house, have kids, and grow old together. Growing up without a stable household, it's something I’ve secretly craved most of my life. I want a woman to come home to, someone who wants to be involved with the school and the PTA, and someone I can grope, play with, and annoy for the rest of our days. Yeah, that's the dream.

I hear a car pulling up and sigh. It's hard enough to trust people around the club, especially women. They're only here for one thing. To get on one of our dicks, get pregnant, and have the title of Old Lady. They come to me for a good time, but I mostly ignore them. They go after my brothers for the forever. So, no, I’m not excited to have a woman coming around and looking after the kids. I want to ensure the children are protected and cared for and not used to get closer to the guys.

Turning, I watch as the tall, sexy as fuck dark-haired woman steps out of the cab, a small duffle bag in hand. I stand there, dumbfounded, just staring for what seems like forever. She’sabsolutely gorgeous, and I can't seem to take my eyes off her. I nod to the prospect at the gate, and it slowly opens.

“You must be Becky. I'm Grease,” I say as she looks around, not nervously, more like calculating. This woman has been through something; I just don't know what that is… yet. You can be for-fucking-sure I will find out, though. As Becky passes through the gate, I try to grab her bags to help. She pulls them from me with a soft smile. I ignore it, shrug, and turn to walk back toward the compound.

“So, what brings you to our neck of the woods?”

“Oh, you know, ready to live on the wild side. Let my hair down. Ride some… motorcycles.” She chuckles, but just like that, I shut down. I knew it was too good to be true. She’s here to try to dig her claws into one of the brothers.

Well, she can try, but one thing is for sure… It will never be me.

Chapter One

Grease

Present Day:

“How the fuck did I end up here?” I practically yell at the room as I sit on the old, ratted, but comfy-as-hell sofa in the common area of the clubhouse.

“Language! There are children in the room!” Sunny yells, and I look at her incredulously. I notice Rome snickering from the chair beside me. He’s the only child in the room at the moment, and a demon at that.

“What are you talking about, woman? He has a bigger curse vocabulary than I do!” I scowl while running my hands down the dress — yes, you heard that right — that is now bunched up from how I'm sitting.

Again, I ask myself how I got into this situation. Then the fucker who is responsible for this and every other lousy bet gone wrong walks into the room.

Gray “Grim” motherfucking Adams. It's because of him and these stupid damn bets that I have a fully pierced dick. A Jacob's ladder complete with the crown some would like to call a Prince Albert. That mother fucker. I ended up losing so many bets that I had to replace piercings with tattoos. Seeing as I have gaugedears, two black rings in one eyebrow, my lip, and nipples pierced unless I wanted to pierce my damn belly button (no fucking way), tattoos were next. Though I am nearly covered head to toe, I only have a few special places left untatted after all the losses. So I had to go with something else for losing this one.

How the hell was I supposed to predict it would be sweet little Sunny who started the latest round of chicken and upped the stakes? We started out on the kids' three-wheeled trike. Then went to the kids' little motorized jeep and Harley toys when that got boring. From there, it went to go-karts, then four-wheelers. The last stunt we pulled, Sunny decided enough was enough.

So because I put my trust in Sunny, and lost, I am stuck in a fucking Elsa costume for Jett's birthday party… and I'm not happy at all about it. Mainly because Prez wouldn't let me rent a reindeer and snow machine to really get into character. We are in Georgia, and there is never the possibility of snow, and I’m supposed to be Elsa! I can't pull this Elsa shit off without the snow. What a fucking disappointment. I mean, come on, Jett would have loved the full experience.

The other reason I’m pissed is because I'm stuck in a fucking dress… for a whole day. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those pussies that believe men should never be seen in a dress. Personally, I could give two fucks what you wear as long as you don't fuck my day up. No, what I have a problem with is the fact that this fucker thinks I'm going to get underneath a car with this damn thing on. I can't do my job in this shit.

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