Sydney's Battle (Reapers Rejects MC: Second Generation Book 1) Read online

  “Oh, sweetie.” Mom comes up to me and wraps her arm around my body. I revel in her warm embrace and hold onto her for a few minutes. “We love you so much and all we want for you is to be happy.”

  “I am,” I croak as tears continue to take over me.

  Warmth comes around my back and I quickly realize Dad is hugging me too. I’ve been through a lot of shit in life and it’s a simple fact, but at the end of the day, I’m okay. I’m in a home where I’m loved and respected. Not only both of those but supported as well. So many kids wouldn’t ever be in this position and I’m lucky enough to have both of my parents’ well wishes. It’s such a rarity.

  “You like it, right? Did we do good?” Mom asks as we all let go of each other.

  “Like it? I love it. It’s perfect.” I adamantly tell her, but as I look past her hair, I see yet another mind-blowing thing they’ve done.

  “Holy shit,” I curse, unable to believe what’s in front of me.

  There’s an entire wall of acoustic guitars, electric guitars, and electric basses. All of them are Fender’s, and lord, I’m either gonna throw up or shit my pants.

  Dad walks up to the wall of instruments and looks back at me. “We had some help pickin’ these. You remember Reed and Elena from the Skulls Renegade MC?”

  “Yeah,” I tell him. The last time I saw them was last month when I had my graduation party. They came out with their kids, Dasha, River, and Aurek. Elena just beat cervical cancer this year, so coming to my graduation party was a huge trip for her. She’s the sweetest lady I know, but man, she’s a bit scary too. There’s something about the way she looks at you like she has the ability to either wreck your entire world or tell you a funny joke.

  “Her sister is Bellamy Mason, so I called her, and she gave me some pointers as far as equipment and instruments went. This isn’t my thing, so I was a fish outta water kid and fuck, I wanted you to like this surprise.”

  “You’re shitting me right now.” There’s no way he’s telling me the truth, like no way at all.

  “He’s not. He called her,” Mom tells me.

  “Holy crap. I had no idea her sister is Bellamy Mason. She’s never come around when Elena and Reed do, right?” I question, not remembering seeing her when they’ve been here.

  “No, but her ol’ man, Butch, I think he’s been here a couple of times,” Dad says, and I remember him. He’s a skinnier-looking guy with blond hair and a long beard.

  “Wow,” I murmur, and a few moments of silence go by. “There isn’t a catch with all of this, right?” I ask, looking right at my dad.

  “Nope, not one. You just follow your dreams, baby girl. That’s all I can ask of ya.” He softly smiles and comes over to me, pulls me into his embrace and presses a chaste kiss to the top of my head. “All I’ve ever wanted for you is to be happy, and I hope I did that today.”

  I look up into his icy blue eyes and speak with the utmost sincerity. “You surpassed any sort of expectation I could’ve ever had. Thank you, thank you so freaking much.” My bottom lip quivers and I do my best to stop crying, but like always, I’m a sap.

  “Make sure to thank Inc too. He helped so much,” Mom comments and I nod. As soon as I see him, I’ll make sure to give him the biggest hug ever.

  “Thank you so much. This studio is the best. It’s amazing,” I tell them, still caught in awe of how beautiful this is.

  “Studio? Sweetheart, you better open that door.” Mom basically orders me, so I head past the desktop station and push open the matte black door, and the second I do, I about fall over. This is too much.

  The same dark floors continue throughout and I head into a kitchen area. The cabinets are black with copper fixtures and the countertop is a faux marble, I think, but it might be quartz or granite. Hell if I know, but it looks phenomenal like it came straight off an HGTV show. The living area is off to the side and the walls are matte black, but there’s crown molding and a fireplace. A couple of feet away from the fireplace is a green velvet chair with an ottoman and beside it is a modern wood and iron bookshelf. A white area rug is down on the floor and there’s a cement gray couch across from the chair. God, this is more beautiful than anything I ever imagined. Still, I don’t know what’s going on.

  “Keep looking around,” Mom tells me, so I do.

  I walk past the living room and open the first door. It’s a massive bathroom with floor-to-ceiling black subway tile. The floor is a white stone, like travertine, and instead of the cabinets being black, they’re a deep walnut color. The fixtures are the same copper, and the countertops are the same too. The shower in here is enough to fit a few people, and there’s a ledge for someone to sit if they wanted. Beside the shower is a jacuzzi tub and next to the tub is a smaller room. I walk toward it and step inside. This place is all about privacy and luxury, but I’ve never been in something as nice as this.

  I suck in a deep breath as an overwhelming feeling washes over me and go back out into the main area, and finally head through the last doorway. The bedroom isn’t large, but it isn’t small either. It’s more than enough room for me to sleep and goodness. It’s just as beautiful as the rest of the place. The same green color continues throughout, but in here, it’s the pleated ottoman. My bed is obviously a king and my duvet is a deep-sea blue. Honestly, it’s almost black, like it was pulled from the depths of the sea. Cement gray sheets are paired with it and I’m in awe of not only the beauty before my eyes but the amount of thought they had to put in all of this.

  Turning on my heel, I face my parents and purse my lips. Fuck, nothing I can say will ever be enough to thank them for all of this.

  Dad walks up to me and digs his hand into his pocket. When he pulls it out, he hands me a set of keys. “Happy birthday, Princess. This is your apartment, and I hope it’s everything you ever wanted.” He offers me a soft smile and pulls me into his embrace once more, and I absolutely lose it.

  I never thought I’d be this lucky. Not in my wildest dreams. I guess it makes me realize there’s a lot of balance when it comes to the world. Where there’s pain, there’s happiness as well.

  I’m at dinner with a couple of my friends, Kelsey, who I met at Tart, the café the club owns in town. We’ve worked together a bit since the club purchased the café and have become really good friends. I’m also here with Bambi, one of the women who works for my mom. My mom owns a company where she takes nude artistic photographs of women and people pay for a subscription whether it’s yearly or monthly. She’s been doing it for years now and she’s able to do what she wants every day. Honestly, I think I got a lot of my drive from her. I grew up with a woman who was literally doing whatever the hell she wanted, and it set a precedent for what I want my future to look like.

  They’ve had a couple of drinks, and while they might’ve slipped me a shot or two, I’m completely sober. Like, agonizingly sober. Old rock music pumps through the bar and people have their eyes on us like we’re endangered species. I know most of the town knows who I am at least, well, ‘cause my dad makes sure everyone knows. But I push those thoughts deep down. The guys might be staring ‘cause I’m with Bambi and Kelsey. They’re both drop-dead gorgeous and honestly, they’re both dressed really sexy. I’m just in an old Escape the Fate t-shirt and a pair of daisy duke shorts.

  Kelsey ends up seeing a friend who’s only back in town for the night, and Bambi got a little flirty with some guy who was up at the bar, so now I’m alone, sipping on a virgin vodka cran, debating on whether I’m heading back to the clubhouse now, or if I’m going to wait a little bit longer.

  Picking up the glass in front of me, I take a sip as a dark figure comes up beside me. I turn to look at the man who shoots me a wide grin. “Evenin’, darlin’.”

  “Hello,” I reply, not wanting to be rude.

  “I’m Davey. What’s your name?”

  “Sydney. You from around here?” I question. I won’t lie. My curiosity is getting the best of me. I’m really good at remembering faces, but I don’t
remember seeing him around here.

  “Yeah, new to town. I’ve only been here a couple of weeks so far. What about you?”

  I let out a laugh. He looks like he’s new to town. Most of the men here wear plaid or have ginormous belt buckles. Honestly, you either look like a good ol’ country boy, or you’re part of the club. We have some frat-looking guys, but they’re more of the high school type. “Born and raised here in Billings.”

  “No shit. Well, at least I’m here talkin’ to a pretty woman like yourself. Not gonna lie, I’m a bit surprised you’re not here with your boyfriend.”

  “I would need to have one to be here with him.” I laugh, feeling a little bit of emptiness in my gut. I’ve never been in a real relationship. Not since I dated Oscar in high school and that barely even counted. We kissed once and he was a total tool, so I dumped his ass the first chance I could. Ever since then, I’ve been on my own and if there’s anything I’ve learned while being surrounded by tough-as-nails people, it’s how to be a strong woman.

  Davey smiles in surprise and glances around the bar. “So, you’re not here with anyone?”

  I shrug my shoulders and take another sip of my virgin vodka cranberry. “I came with friends, but they’re off doing their own thing. It’s okay, though. I’m heading out soon anyway.”

  “Damn, what a shame.”

  I smile politely at Davey while he smiles at me, and we somehow get into a conversation about a couple of television shows we have in common. I’m obsessed with Ratched on Netflix and it turns out he is too. We’ve both talked about the entire season, and overall, my birthday hasn’t been too bad.

  My phone lights up and I pick it up, going to the messages.

  From: Bama

  When you gonna be home?

  Davey glances at my phone. “I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend.” His tone is full of judgment, but he doesn’t have any idea what he’s talking about.

  “I don’t. Bama is a friend. It’s my birthday, so I have a party to get to. I’m gonna head out, but it was nice meeting you.” I state, fishing a ten-dollar bill out of my wallet. I slide it through the top of the tip jar. I paid my tab a few minutes ago and I’m ready to go to the door. Heading through the bar, I walk out the door, and heavy footsteps come from behind me.

  Turning, Davey’s face fills my view. “Care if I walk you to your car? I don’t like the idea of a woman walking alone late at night, you know?”

  Okay . . . it’s not the first time I’ve walked to my car myself. Anyone around here knows not to even look at me the wrong way, or they’ll get their eyes spooned out of their sockets. Whatever, I’m sure it can’t hurt. He probably wants my number or something and he’s a cute enough guy. I might give it to him.

  Davey walks alongside me around the block to where my car is and just as we’re passing an alley, I’m grabbed by the back of the neck and shoved into the darkness. I trip over my feet and my heart beats intensely in my chest as what’s happening sinks in. I go from being completely comfortable to being terrified.

  “When the fuck are you gonna give it up? You teased me all night, flirted with me, smiled at me, even gave me a good view of those tits of yours.” Davey quips with a deep tone.

  “What’re you talking about?!” I snap out my reply, sliding on my butt against the pavement and try to stand. I need to get away from him as soon as possible.

  “Don’t be one of them stupid bitches. You know exactly what you were doing.” His voice gets deeper with every word, and I can’t figure out how the man with the nice smile in the bar turned out to be like this.

  “I didn’t do anything!” I stutter and fear continues rushing through my body in heavy waves. It feels like goosebumps are spreading across my entire body and I somehow manage to get to my feet, but my knees lock, and I’m frozen in place. Davey whips around, closes his fist and punches me straight in the face. The impact literally rocks me, but the crimson taste on my tongue forces my body to go into flight or fight mode. I run as fast as I can to my car, pressing the unlock button numerous times.

  I waste no time getting the keys in the ignition and I don’t even have my seatbelt buckled before I throw it in drive and get the hell out of here. The entire way home, my heart beats so hard in my chest that it hurts. I can’t go home. I can’t go into my bedroom. I can’t go to the party right now either. Fuck, I can’t take the main way in either. I need to use the old trail to get on the property, so I head up the road past where our driveway is and make a right into the old four-wheeling trail.

  At first, I thought it would be too overgrown for me to get through, but thankfully that isn’t the case. I haven’t been out here in a couple of years now, but I drive straight to the barn and put the car in park, then shut it off. Pulling out my phone, I open my messages.

  To: Bama

  I’m not feeling too great. Gonna hit the hay early. We’ll celebrate later.

  Sliding my phone into my back pocket, I get out of the car and walk in through the old wooden door and the light on reminds me Gears is here. I don’t have any way to avoid him. I have to pass him to even get to the stairwell, so I muster up all the courage I have and start to walk, but the moment my eyes lock with his, I come to a screeching halt.

  Chapter Six

  Gears

  Now, I’ve only seen this woman a few times, yet every time I have, she acknowledges me in some way. It can be verbal or even the slightest wave of her hand. When Zane and his ol’ lady took her upstairs earlier today, she had her hand near her thigh and waved at me.

  She’s in the shadows, running her hand along her arm. I can’t see her face yet, but I do have my eyes locked on her silhouette. She walks toward me and the moment she comes into my view, I’m drawn to the blood across her lip, smeared down her chin. My gut tightens and anger rushes through me. “What the fuck happened?” I snap and though I’m not trying to sound callous, I’m pissed she was touched this way.

  “Nothing,” she tries brushing me off, but even though I’m tied to a post, I won’t let her.

  “Don’t pull that shit with me, little girl. Now come here and let me take a look at ya.” I grow sterner with her and while I should only want anyone close to Zane to hurt, I don’t enjoy seeing her in pain.

  She takes a couple steps further into the light and pulls at my heartstrings. She looks so damn conflicted, but fuck if there isn’t fight left in her eyes. “Why would I do anything you ask? You’re a prisoner here. You’re not my friend. You’re not close with my family, and you’re certainly not part of this club.” Her words are thick with hatred and while she isn’t wrong, I have no problem putting her in her place.

  I scoff and sit up a bit straighter. “You’re right, but you haven’t told anyone about the new lipstick you got there, have ya?”

  She’s taken aback by my abrasiveness and is rendered speechless. Exactly what I thought. “I don’t have to do anything you say.”

  “You’re right, but are you really gonna stand there and act like you don’t wanna confide in someone? I don’t know what the fuck happened to you, but you can’t bear the weight of this yourself. I get I’m not your friend, but isn’t that the point? Who am I gonna say anything to? What purpose would it serve me? Fuck, you should tell your dad, but I doubt you will.” I’m making good points with her and I’m sure she thinks I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. The thing is, I can’t stand a woman bein’ hurt. It never bodes well with me, and I had to keep my mouth shut about a lot of shit I witnessed Boomer do.

  “Why would I even tell him about this? Do you think I want him to see . . . to see me like this?” Sydney’s voice cracks. I can’t imagine what’s going through her mind right now. What I do know is how Tara even said being a VP’s daughter was a lotta pressure. It’s probably more intense being the Prez’s kid.

  I shake my head while I try to be empathetic with her. “As much as I think you should, we both know you won’t, but if it were my daughter in your position, I’d want her to tell me. I’d want
her to be honest, and more importantly, I’d want to try and help her in any way I could.”

  Sydney draws her brows together. “You have a daughter?”

  I nod with a smile, “Yeah. Her name’s Tara—” I shouldn’t be telling her any of this, so I stop and get back on track with Sydney. “Now come here and tell me what happened. It’ll feel good to get it off your chest.”

  Sydney takes a couple steps closer to me, still about twenty feet away and looks right at me. “This feels weird like I don’t think I should say anything.”

  “You gonna tell your mom?”

  Sydney shakes her head.

  “You gonna tell your dad?”

  Sydney shakes her head again.

  “Alright, what about a friend?”

  Again, she shakes her head.

  “Seems like I’m your only option. Now, I’d respect your decision to not say a damn thing to me if I even thought for a second you’d open up to someone else. I don’t think you’re gonna talk to anyone, though, and don’t let shit eat at you inside.”

  Sydney scoffs lightly, “You’re talking to me like a therapist.”

  I glance down at my position, sitting on cement, chained to this post. “Trust me when I say I’m the least qualified person to give advice.”

  “Obviously,” she murmurs and takes a couple steps closer to me. I don’t miss the way her hands shake and I’m sure this poor woman has had one hell of a night. “I went out tonight for my birthday with a couple of friends. It was great. It was better than I could’ve imagined. We danced, chatted, had a great time. But then they both went off to do their own thing and instead of heading straight back here, I got myself another drink and sat at the bar. A guy came up to me and he seemed nice enough. We had some good conversations, and then he wanted to walk me out to my car.”