Read Online Gone For You: New Kings Motorcycle Club by Amri Ackers - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Amri Ackers
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fucking mind?
It had never been said that I, Logan Cale, was of sound and regular mind.
***
"Were you even gonna tell me you were back in town?"
Who would wanna tell anybody they were in this shithole. But...I knew Sherry. Fucking knew that there was something more that was going on.
Then, there it was, tearing into my heart and ripping my goddamn balls off with them because Sherry couldn't look at me that way.
Fear. Icy cold breath stopping fear in her eyes. I was chilled to my goddamn bones with the exception of the fuckin' inferno of rage building up in their marrow. Something. Was NOT. Right.
"Sherry, baby," I lowered my voice. Shifted my eyes, surveyed that no one was around or watching us, but still I kept my tone low and touched her arm while I asked, "What's wrong, Sher?"
Her big eyes tore through me. Something was wrong. Was very wrong. But she didn’t look ready to talk about anything.
Her eyes sparked with more fear, and I felt stabbed when she directed it at me. "H-how did you know I was here...you don't work with him, do you?
"Sherry, baby, who the fuck is him? Goddamnit, come with me, wear my helmet, we gotta talk you obviously aren't safe here."
Then I saw a fucking face I recognized.
It fucking recognized me, and I knew I was in trouble.
Within a minute, Sherry was on my bike with her arms clinging to me for dear life.
The sweet girl I hadn't seen in years, who I'd never really stopped talking to .
For the first time, I drove off with answering my MC prez's call.
Dad would just have to understand.
Didn't know if he'd believe I wasn't trying to get involved with the white hate motherfuckers undoubtedly related to whatever upset my woman--
Fuck.
Sherry had always cared about me but didn't grow up around the MC.
So why couldn't I shake the idea of her as my woman? As my real woman, as my old lady.
****
I hugged Sherry to me. Kissed her forehead.
My head screamed at the shit she went through. I knew how those fuckers partied. I knew Sherry's instincts were right; I knew I was terrified she might think I was biker trash and have gone with me because she'd railed against the idea of the devil you know.
She probably didn't think she knew me.
Fuck if I knew her.
But I knew that I wanted to.
Been gone for her since I met her prissy ass and being a grown, sexy as fuck woman now didn't make that any less true.
I needed to protect her.
I wasn't sure exactly how to do it. But I did know that what I now understood was that this was something to bring to the club, not act on and then act like his selfish shit told to the club after acting on was something he could haul out at church like something he did for the club.
How did Sherry always make things make sense for me? I didn't know how. Didn't need to. Just knew I needed to hold on to my Sherry.
I pulled out my cell to call a brother. I stayed next to Sherry, not wanting her to take me making a call to the club as something any way similar to the shit that hopefully her dumb fuck uncle had at least tried to hide from her. The kind of shit those white hate motherfuckers did wasn't right. Club never got dirty in any real way, and they didn't hide shit.
***
What had I really just heard on the phone?
Those patches. The back of that vest...
That club had to be a gang.
What in Thor's name had I gotten myself into?
First the obvious thing to me in that magical hindsight moment was that white supremacist gang that her awful uncle and his friends were in...Cale couldn’t be in some damned gang, too!
I wanted to cry when I thought about the awful things that they'd definitely done to other girls the way they'd talked about doing them to her.
Fuck...Fuck! Cale Logan, her Cale - he wouldn't do that. If he was gonna do it, wouldn't he have raped her last night?
But he wasn't really her Cale Logan. Her Cale Logan was the guy she talked to online. Knew as a kid. Dreamed about.
Maybe like her uncle's friends had said
It had never been said that I, Logan Cale, was of sound and regular mind.
***
"Were you even gonna tell me you were back in town?"
Who would wanna tell anybody they were in this shithole. But...I knew Sherry. Fucking knew that there was something more that was going on.
Then, there it was, tearing into my heart and ripping my goddamn balls off with them because Sherry couldn't look at me that way.
Fear. Icy cold breath stopping fear in her eyes. I was chilled to my goddamn bones with the exception of the fuckin' inferno of rage building up in their marrow. Something. Was NOT. Right.
"Sherry, baby," I lowered my voice. Shifted my eyes, surveyed that no one was around or watching us, but still I kept my tone low and touched her arm while I asked, "What's wrong, Sher?"
Her big eyes tore through me. Something was wrong. Was very wrong. But she didn’t look ready to talk about anything.
Her eyes sparked with more fear, and I felt stabbed when she directed it at me. "H-how did you know I was here...you don't work with him, do you?
"Sherry, baby, who the fuck is him? Goddamnit, come with me, wear my helmet, we gotta talk you obviously aren't safe here."
Then I saw a fucking face I recognized.
It fucking recognized me, and I knew I was in trouble.
Within a minute, Sherry was on my bike with her arms clinging to me for dear life.
The sweet girl I hadn't seen in years, who I'd never really stopped talking to .
For the first time, I drove off with answering my MC prez's call.
Dad would just have to understand.
Didn't know if he'd believe I wasn't trying to get involved with the white hate motherfuckers undoubtedly related to whatever upset my woman--
Fuck.
Sherry had always cared about me but didn't grow up around the MC.
So why couldn't I shake the idea of her as my woman? As my real woman, as my old lady.
****
I hugged Sherry to me. Kissed her forehead.
My head screamed at the shit she went through. I knew how those fuckers partied. I knew Sherry's instincts were right; I knew I was terrified she might think I was biker trash and have gone with me because she'd railed against the idea of the devil you know.
She probably didn't think she knew me.
Fuck if I knew her.
But I knew that I wanted to.
Been gone for her since I met her prissy ass and being a grown, sexy as fuck woman now didn't make that any less true.
I needed to protect her.
I wasn't sure exactly how to do it. But I did know that what I now understood was that this was something to bring to the club, not act on and then act like his selfish shit told to the club after acting on was something he could haul out at church like something he did for the club.
How did Sherry always make things make sense for me? I didn't know how. Didn't need to. Just knew I needed to hold on to my Sherry.
I pulled out my cell to call a brother. I stayed next to Sherry, not wanting her to take me making a call to the club as something any way similar to the shit that hopefully her dumb fuck uncle had at least tried to hide from her. The kind of shit those white hate motherfuckers did wasn't right. Club never got dirty in any real way, and they didn't hide shit.
***
What had I really just heard on the phone?
Those patches. The back of that vest...
That club had to be a gang.
What in Thor's name had I gotten myself into?
First the obvious thing to me in that magical hindsight moment was that white supremacist gang that her awful uncle and his friends were in...Cale couldn’t be in some damned gang, too!
I wanted to cry when I thought about the awful things that they'd definitely done to other girls the way they'd talked about doing them to her.
Fuck...Fuck! Cale Logan, her Cale - he wouldn't do that. If he was gonna do it, wouldn't he have raped her last night?
But he wasn't really her Cale Logan. Her Cale Logan was the guy she talked to online. Knew as a kid. Dreamed about.
Maybe like her uncle's friends had said
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