Page 2 of Tied to You
A flash zaps before me when I blink. The image of Tanya face down, her soaked pussy desperate for me as I claimed her arse with my cock, wakes me up a little. My dick hardens with the sudden memory. “Think your tight little arse can take more of me?” I smirk at her.
She bites her lip. “Absolutely.” Tanya winks then stands off the bed, walking to the door.
Hearing it click shut, I bend my arm behind my head, staring at the ceiling. I know I should get up soon. There’s a new person starting at the farm today, but I simply can’t be fucking dealing with it. So I won’t. Plenty needs doing around here before Dean’s flight lands, anyway.
The time spent like this; fucking women and drinking until I don’t remember my own name, is just part and parcel of the man I’ve become. I’ve never had a vision of where I pictured my life heading. Never dreamt or wanted for anything except for the freedom to make my own decisions. We only get one life, right? So why would I spend it doing anything other than what I want?
It’s a sad notion, but my aunt and uncle are the only family I have. I don’t want to live out my days working on their farm, but they took me in after my parents took off. It’s funny because, you’d think I’d hate them. You’d think I’d hold some sort of grudge against them for what they did. Truth is, I would probably do the same if it was me. Not run from responsibility like a coward, but live the life I wanted. I mean, itiswhat I did when I patched in. No amount of hard work and manual labour could keep me away from joining the club I’ve wanted to join since I was a kid.
My Uncle Mick has no ties to Rippers MC. He’s a hardworking man who showed me what it means to have to work to live. Through him, I learned how to get my hands dirty. Learned to never give up and keep my head down. I became disciplined; toughened up due to the early starts and latenights. I became a man because of him. I owe him everything.
In the end though, I chose my surrogate family. The one built on loyalty, trust, and brotherhood. My uncle and aunt love me—I know that, but I will only ever let them down. So why bother pretending? Why bother trying to live up to their expectations?
I gave up trying to impress them when I became a full member of the club. Gave up giving them false hope that one day their livelihood would be safe in my hands. I don’t want it. Don’t care for it. Yeah, Icando everything they need down there, but my rigid, frozen heart isn’t in it.
It doesn’t know what it wants. The only time I feel it beating is when I’m wearing my cut. Other than that, I wouldn’t know it was there apart from the fact I’m still standing and not already buried six feet under.
Do people change? Do they become capable of seeing the world differently? They must do, but I honestly can’t see my life going in any other direction than what it already is. That may sound negative and downright fucking depressing, but you get handed certain cards in life. You can’t change them—can’t simply ask for a new deck and begin a do-over. You have to play them. Good, bad, absolutely fucking bleak… you get on with what you’re given.
Whenever my uncle asks me to help out nowadays, I can’t help but feel a pang of misery and straight up guilt. With him, I don’t need to give any bullshit excuses. He knew the moment I started prospecting and spending less and less time at the farm that he was losing me.
He’ll neverloseme. I’m not taking off… I just won’t spend the rest of my days there. I refuse to. I don’t know where I’m going, mind. All I know is the club is where my life truly begins.
More than likely, it will be where it ends, too.
Chapter Two
MOLLIE
Ican do this. This is what I need. A whole year of doing what I want and not what my parents expect. I’m so ready to step away from their clutches.
Tell that to my stomach. Bloody thing’s fluttering like crazy, desperately trying to remind me this is the first time I’ve ever made a decision for myself. Well, it can fuck off. I’ve played the dutiful daughter. But not this time. This gap year will be the best year I’ve had because I’m deciding it. For me.
Money and power don’t interest me. Coming from it has always made me stand out. I’ve always been different. So now, I’m going to be ordinary. I’m going to work outdoors. Get my hands dirty and not once look back.
Never look back.
My grandmother’s old Austin A30 bangs along the uneven, dirty track leading to the farm. The ad said live-in farmhand needed. I can expect to be shovelling shit, waking up at the crack of dawn and spending the majority of my time outdoors. Bliss. I’ve never applied for something so fast.
Parking, I make my way to the farmhouse, my bag in hand. The smell is a mixture of fresh air and pig shit. I smile. Makes a change from classrooms and offices. Gently rapping the door, I wait for the guy who owns this place to let me in. Mick, I think his name was.
The large wooden door swings open.
“Hi.” I hold up a tentative hand with a smile. “I’m Mollie. We spoke on the phone?”
“Mollie. Yes. Come in.” The tall, dark haired guy steps back, making way for me to walk inside the farm house.
There’s a fire roaring in the stone fireplace, but I immediately feel the cold of the old building. I hate the cold. I shake my head, eyes closed. Not to worry. I packed extra socks.
Positive thinking.
“You’ve worked on a farm before, Mollie?”
“Yes,” I lie as I step inside, tightening my grip on my bag. He doesn’t need to know I haven’t. This is what I want. I love the outdoors; I’ll make it work.
“Great. Your room is top of the stairs, first door on the right. Bathroom is across the hall. Breakfast is served at five.” That should shock me, but it doesn’t. “You know how to drive a tractor?”
“Sure.” Another lie. How hard can it be?
