Page 1 of Storm

Chapter1

Kelsey

Then Ten years old

This whole summer Talon has snuck me away to teach me about bikes. He’s let me drive and has even shown me how to take care of it. Those days are my favorite. I love learning all I can and that feeling of power between my legs as the wind whips my hair back. At ten years old, I know who I want to be and what I want in my life and I’m going to do it, no matter what.

What I’mnotgoing to be is anything like my momma. I ain’t going to be passed from man to man and used for sex like the club whore she is. My dad was a club member, who got sent to prison for murder and my mother and I were left to the so-called protection of the Crows. We aren't though unless you call my mom being used as a fuck toy and me being used as a maid, protection. The day my dad got a life sentence was the day my life turned to complete hell and just kept getting worse the older I got.

One night after a party at the club, I walked in on my mother and four guys fucking. From that moment on, I knew I was going to get away from the Crows and I would not follow in my mother's footsteps. The worst thing about my mother, she enjoyed being club pussy. She loved what the nasty men did to her, the grease-stained, calloused hands all over her, their body funk polluting the air. I guess it helps her forget that she is worthless and maybe even forget she’s a mother. It made my stomach churn just thinking about it, about the slimy men, about my whore of a mother.

Talon, the son of the president of the Murder of Crows Motorcycle Club, is my only friend. After school, we go far away from the clubhouse into a clearing in the woods where he teaches me how to ride his motorcycle. It’s not a full-size bike, it is a beginner one. A dirt bike since he’s only ten but had started learning to ride, before he could walk. We have to hide out because his dad will beat him if he finds out that Talon is letting a bitch drive his motorcycle instead of riding. "Bitches don't drive, they ride. That is why the bitch seat was invented,” is what Talon’s dad says, all the time.

"I'm only teaching you how to drive it because when you're eighteen, you're going to be my Crone," Talon says, as he gives me a smirk. "You don’t have to be good at it since you're just going to ride behind me in the bitch seat anyway, but I may need you to grab it for me or work on it when I ask you to. My mom doesn't know shit about bikes and my dad is always complaining about it, but you will be different." A Crone is the motorcycle club's wives or girlfriend, their ol’ lady. Why don't they just call them their wife or girlfriend? Heck, if I know.

"Talon. Keep dreaming! I'm never going to be your ol' lady. I'm not going to ride bitch either, but hop on and you can ride with me," I say, as I slam, the kickstart causing the bike to roar loudly. "I won't tell anyone you rode bitch seat."

I know it would make the other kids bully him if they were to ever find out. Murphy and the twins Cash and Price, always pick on him for hanging out with me. Their dads are members of the club, too, so they think they are so cool. He knows I’ll keep it just between me and him which is why he trusts me so much. He just smiles, climbs on the bike, and kisses my cheek.

I have no interest in being an ol' lady or a bikers' bitch. What I really want is to ride my own motorcycle and I refuse to be a club girl. Talon is my best friend, but he doesn’t know I want to move away and leave as soon as I can. That’s something I keep locked up tight within my heart.

Chapter2

Talon

Then Twelve years old

Ilove sneaking away with Kelsey. Her long brown hair is always in a ponytail and when we ride it hits me in the face smelling of oranges or when I tell her she is going to be my ol’ lady one day, she gets a big smart mouth. She’s the only girl I can stand to be around. What I love most is that she isn't into Barbie dolls and make-up like most girls. No. Kelsey likes the same things as me. Motorcycles, horror movies, superhero comics especially, the Batman ones. And when she gets hurt, Kelsey never cries and she’ll also pay close attention when I’m teaching her about riding. There’s nothing I don’t love about being around her.

My dad wants me close to the clubhouse or working in the garage with Uncle Miller. He isn't my real uncle, but he is my dad’s brother by choice. I have a lot of uncles. On days when my dad is busy with "club business” I sneak away to be with Kelsey. She’s my best friend, well my onlyonereally. No one at school likes bikers. Everyone considers us trash or dirty, which suits me just fine. I don’t want to be friends with a bunch of stuck up cunts anyways. Besides, hanging out with Kelsey is way better than hanging out with anyone else.

"Kels, hop on," I holler, one Sunday afternoon while my dad is in church.

It’s the club's church. Not like going to a religious church, it’s more of a meeting the club has every Sunday that’s for private members only. Every time I ask what they talk about in church my dad will only say, "club business son, you will find out when you're older."

"Okay." She grabs onto my shoulders, swinging her leg over and crawls behind me, wrapping her tiny arms around me.

I take off my helmet, handing it to her. I’m thankful she doesn’t give me any fuss because I can’t have her getting hurt. If anything were to happen, it would not only make me sad, but dad would kill me for letting her on my bike. She grabs the helmet from my grasp and tightens the straps like she has done many times before. I don't understand why I like Kelsey on my bike or why we just click, but we do. I just know I can enjoy this with her forever and at twelve years old that is pretty special.

We spent the whole summer together. Every single free minute, we try to sneak away and spend time together, both of us riding our bikes, talking, and swimming in the lake. Kelsey is my best friend and this is one of the best summers of my life.

Chapter3

Storm

Now Twenty-seven years old

“Mr. Davenport open your fucking eyes!" I snarl, punching the fat bastard in the mouth, causing blood to gush from it and spray on my t-shirt and leather cut.

"Bear, pour water on his face. Let's wake this fucker up." I take my eight-inch blade and slice his arm causing more blood to run and trickle onto the floor. Bear, the Daughters of Doom treasurer, splashes cold water from a bottle in his face.

Of all my council members, Bear is the brightest when it comes to numbers, most of us never finished high school let alone graduated college. Bear is a bad ass too, don't get me wrong. She's an excellent marksman and there isn't a target that the bitch can't hit. But, her specialty is in numbers and keeping the books for all the club’s businesses.

"Wakey-wakey, you fat pervert," she coos, with a grin on her sweaty face, the back of her hand brushing her black hair out of her eyes. "The weather is fucking hot today. This killing room is a million damn degrees," she complains.

The killing roomishot. It’s located in the deepest part of the woods in a cabin, close to our clubhouse.

Siren, the Daughters of Doom enforcer, standing six feet and two inches tall and weighing about one hundred eighty pounds, treads over to the man we have tied up.

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