Cruz’s body stiffened at his words. I didn’t know if he thought maybe I’d turn into a whore for him, or if he knew I was different. I hoped the latter. He didn’t say anything, but “things change,” his voice booming in my ear.
“This shit doesn’t change. Stay the fuck away from her.” G.T. began to move closer to us, just then my brain decided to join the party.
Grabbing Cruz’s arms, I pulled them from my body, stepping away. “If you boys are done with your pissing contest, I’m going to see Ma.”
“Princess, don’t. You need to get your head on straight,” G.T. barked.
Placing my hands on my brother’s chest, I grabbed his shirt with both hands pulling him to me focusing on his eyes. “My head has been fucked up since that bitch set me up. I already have a Pops; I don’t need another. I don’t say a fucking word about all the mommas going in and out of your room. Don’t you dare start with me.”
G.T. placed his hands on my shoulders and began rubbing them up and down. “I’m sorry you went through all that. You know I have your back.” He turned to look at Cruz. “In everything.”
“I’m good, Bro. I just need to ride. I’ll be back later.” Letting go of G.T.’s shirt, I smoothed it straight, moving my hands up and down.
“Princess!” Diamond’s voice reverberated from the office.
Turning to the sound, “Yes,” I answered politely.
“Cruz rides with you,” he ordered, not skipping a beat.
“I’ll ride with her,” G.T. stated firmly.
“No. Cruz goes. End of discussion.” With those words, the issue was dropped, and I knew it would be Cruz next to me.
“I’m fine. No worries. Cruz will protect me from all the bad people out there,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“You watch out for her,” G.T. said while seeming to have a silent, private conversation with Cruz over my shoulder.
Pulling myself together, I knew I needed to get on Sting. “I’ll meet you out front,” I called back to Cruz as my pulse picked up at the thought of riding my man.
Feeling the wind in my hair and the vibration between my thighs was the ultimate high. It was better than any drug or even sex. This was the only time that I felt truly free. Even when I left those prison gates, I didn’t fully feel it. This… I feel it. Having Cruz right beside me was an extra bonus, one I wasn’t expecting. Astride his bike, he stayed in sync with me, or maybe it was me staying in sync with him. I really didn’t know, but it was beautiful.
I pulled up to Ma’s house, loving my first home. I loved the small, yellow, one-story, ranch style home. I’d grown up here, and it held so many wonderful memories for me. All along the front of the large white wraparound porch were all different kinds of flowers, which Ma loved. She’s told me repeatedly what they were, but hell if I could remember. All I knew was they were pink, purple, yellow and white, and she took exceptional care of them. Me? I killed anything green I touched. Give me a motor or a carburetor, though, and I could rebuild it like a champ.
Ma must have heard Sting’s rumble because she ran out of the house with a broad smile across her beautiful face. As she embraced me, I felt whole.
Chapter 3—Cruz
Harlow, the Princess. Fuck me. I’ve heard about her since I became a Prospect two years ago. She was all any of the brothers could think about for the longest time. They were sick to death that she had to spend time in the joint. There was nothing the lawyer could do. The bitch involved really used her head and had an air-tight case against Princess, claiming she was blackmailing the mayor because he came to the studio, threatening to tell the town. Like she’d fucking say a word about shit like that. I’ve known her for a few hours and can see the way she was with the guys. She’d do anything for them… and them for her.
Pops and G.T. were beside themselves those first few months she was in lockdown. They were chomping at the bit, to find out if she was okay. I was just a Prospect at the time and wasn’t privileged to know everything, at first. I just watched, and you’d be amazed at what one could see.
I know life in the joint was rough, and when you have a MC like Ravage at your back, shit gets a little more difficult. All it took was one disgruntled woman who’s pissed we offed her man to make Princess’s life a living hell.
Diamond and Pops pulled some serious strings and mega cash to make sure she was safe inside. She doesn’t know what they had to do fully, but I knew they’d do it again in a heartbeat. Looking at her hugging her mom, I could totally see why.
She was everything I never knew I wanted in a woman. She was strong, fierce, smart-assed, loving. And I got all that in the course of a couple hours. When the hell did I turn into a fucking pussy?
“I’ll hang out on the porch.” I was here to guard and protect. That’s exactly, what I planned on doing.
“You want a beer?” Ma asked. We all called her Ma. She was the official mother of the club. She doesn’t take shit and tells people like it is, but she knows her place in the club and we respect her for that. Her daughter has learned a lot from her. I could tell, by the way, she was with Diamond.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Damn you, Cruz. Don’t call me that. Makes me feel old.” She smiled. She was anything but old. She was blonde, with long legs, and had a hot body. At forty-three, she was smokin’. It was no wonder Pops never strayed.
“Sorry,” Respect. It’s all about respect, and it ran both ways. I had the utmost for Ma. She grabbed me a beer, and I made myself comfortable in the chair. It was unbelievably peaceful out here. Not too many cars drove by, and those that did, knew who lived here and that it was off limits. Everyone knew in this town that we were not to be fucked with.
The Ravage MC has been in order since 1953, thanks to Pops’s dad, Striker. Striker was the president and had a real knack for business. He began branching out and taking on new chapters right away. Now, we have a strong name and presence with many other chapters across the country. People don’t mess with us. We kill first and think about it later. If you’re a threat, you were treated as such. Our threats became more numerous as others wanted what we had. Money. It all boiled down to money. But for the most part, we all stayed to ourselves.
Our runs were becoming longer, and more frequent. But the cash flow was nice, keeping us all very comfortable. We always made sure to do our charitable runs, too. We love our community and protect it with everything we have. That’s why most people who live here leave us be and stay out of our business. They get our protection and their happy lives, and we get ours. Win… win.
For me, getting into the club was my lifeline. After spending too much time overseas in a shithole fighting for this country, I came back to a very sick mom who only lasted about a month. Breast cancer. It spread like wild fire, and there was no treatment that could help her. Unfortunately, she didn’t have medical insurance, and instead of spending the money, she waited… way too long. This was one of the reasons I opted for early release from the military. I loved every minute I spent with her, but her death tore me up inside. As the once beautiful Clara Cruz died in my arms, part of me died right along with her.
My old man left when I was a kid, never to be seen from or heard from again. I couldn’t even tell you what the hell he looked like. Mom said he looked a lot like me, but I hope she’s wrong. I didn’t want to be anything like him. Supposedly, he had a piece on the side that he left Mom and me for. It gutted Mom to the bone, but she was always so strong never letting it get her down.
Mom worked her ass off, working two jobs as a waitress, one at a diner, the other at a bar to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. When I was old enough, I busted my ass mowing grass, cleaning shit, and just about anything else I could come up with to make money. It killed me seeing her come home every night to pass out on the couch from exhaustion. She’d usually take a small nap, then get right back up, and switch into mom mode, making sure homework was done, and dinner was made. She always did the best she could.