Page 3 of Blade: Blade Outlawz MC

As soon as I revved the engine and pulled off, tears streamed down my face.

Iwas supposed to go to work, but the way I felt, I didn’t want to deal with people for the rest of the day. I was a motorcycle salesperson at a local motorcycle shop, and I loved what I did. I lived and breathed motorcycles. My father knew I wanted to join the Wilson Parke Crusaders since I was a little girl, and for him to turn me down every time baffled me. He was the reason I had gotten into motorcycles in the first place. I used to sit in the garage with him whenever he worked on his bike. He showed me all the parts and how to fix certain things. He was the one who taught me how to ride. It was weird how he acted surprised that I wanted to be a part of the life. He wouldn’t even give me a trial period to see if I would be a good fit. I wasn’t looking for special treatment. I wanted him to treat me like any other prospect. I wanted to earn my spot.

On the days when my father treated me badly, I wished my mother was still around. Sometimes, I got mad at her for leaving me alone with him. What would make a mother leave their child with an abusive man? At the time, he wasn’t abusive toward me. It wasn’t until years later that it started. I guess I was lucky that he didn’t hit me like he did my mom. The emotional damage was worse. I felt like I wasn’t worth loving if my parents couldn’t love me. My father did the bare minimum for me, and so tosome, that was a blessing. He could have left me in the streets somewhere. At least I always had clothes, a roof over my head, and food to eat. Seeing what my mom went through made me not want a relationship. Jalen was nice, but I didn’t deserve anyone like him. I didn’t deserve good things.

My phone vibrated as I zoomed through the streets. I knew it was either my father or Jalen, and I wasn’t in the mood to talk to either of them. My shitty life was on my mind as the tears fell from my eyes. My tears blew away with the wind as I picked up speed. I wish I could just ride my bike so far away that nobody would be able to find me.

I thought maybe crying would help me feel better, but instead, it made me feel worse. I didn’t understand my father. Now, I knew he treated me the way he did because I was a girl. That probably was the reason why he beat my mother. I knew, over the years, they tried to have another baby because my father wanted more kids, but for whatever reason, my mother couldn’t have any more. I heard them arguing about it a few times. Each time my mom had a miscarriage, my father would beat her.

There were plenty of nights when I had to put a pillow over my head to try and drown out the sounds of my mother’s cries and pleas for him to stop hitting her. Each time, it made me cry as well. One time, I tried to intervene, but my father yelled at me and told me to go to my room before he did the same thing to me. My mother begged me to return to my room, so I did. After that, she told me whenever I heard them fighting to stay in my room and pray that everything would be okay. I did that, but it never worked, and at times, I would be mad at God for allowing my mother to endure all that. I learned later in life that sometimes no matter how hard we pray, things just don’t work out the way we want.

Tears clouded my vision so much that I had to pull over for a minute. After I wiped my eyes, I pulled out my phone to tell myjob I wasn’t coming in. I saw missed calls from my father, but I didn’t call him back. I put the phone back in my pocket and got back on my bike.

I rode until I was on the outskirts of town. I probably shouldn’t have been out there alone, but I didn’t think anyone would care anyway.

“What the hell?” I heard my bike make a noise, so I started to slow down. I heard the noise again, so I pulled over.

I wasn’t sure what was wrong with my bike, but I knew I needed to call for help. Pulling out my phone again, I sighed when I saw that it had died.

“Shit.” I paced back and forth in front of my bike. “What am I going to do now?”

I knew how to fix simple things, but the noise I heard sounded foreign to me.

The only thing I could do was attempt to fix it. I had no idea as to what I was doing, but I tried anyway. I looked up when I heard a truck coming down the street.

My stomach clenched when the truck slowed down. Relief filled me when I noticed it was a tow truck.

“Thank God. Maybe he could help me.”

I glanced up, and my pulse increased when this big ass dude hopped out of the truck. He walked toward me with heavy footsteps and a menacing scowl on his face.

His big ass body blocked my view. “Do you need some help, sweetheart?” His throaty voice reminded me of retired football player Andre Johnson, but this guy was more intimidating. I didn’t know what kind of cologne he wore, but it made my head spin. His woodsy scent with a hint of vanilla was intoxicating.

“If I needed help, don’t you think I would have called someone already?” I snapped. I wasn’t sure why I got smart with him since he was the only person around who could potentially help me, and he low-key scared me.

He scoffed and crossed his big ass arms over his chest. He wore a black sweat suit, but I caught sight of the tattoos on his neck.

“Suit yourself. But I would hate for one of these young niggas to come snatch your thick ass up. It is getting dark, you know, and spooky shit happens in the dark.”

Something about his tone had me shook, but I played it off and continued trying to fix my bike.

The big guy watched me with amusement etched in his face. No matter what I did, I couldn’t fix it, and I got frustrated.

I had to swallow my pride and ask the stranger for help. “Do you think you could help me?”

He laughed. Like really laughed in my face like I was a damn comedian.

“Nah. You should have taken the help when I offered.” He smirked, and if he wasn’t so big and scary looking, I might have gotten smart again, but I didn’t think that was the best idea, especially since I needed his help.

It had gotten dark in a matter of minutes. I could hear my heartbeat thrashing in my ears as he stared down at me. His hard eyes were as dark as coal, and they terrified and intrigued me. If I wasn’t so afraid, I would have admired how handsome he was. He had a square jaw with a beard, two diamond studs in both of his ears, and a silver chain around his neck.

He rubbed the hair on his chin. “I can help you under one condition.”

“And that is?”

“You owe me a favor.”

“Fine. What is it?” I had no clue as to what that favor was, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

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