Dark Temptation (Dark Saints MC Book 2)(48)

“Honor? Okay, well whatever.” I wondered how old Ross was. What was his story? Why did he think getting into a motorcycle gang was a good idea? But I didn’t have time to find out. I had to worry about my story. That meant getting away from this probie for a few minutes.

“I’m going to go in here and fix up, so give me a minute. I’ve got to deal with a lot.”

I pointed to my dress, veil, and flowers. I was full on Bride Princess. Daddy imagined what a six-year-old girl would want for a wedding dress and arranged for it. It would have been sweet except that I was grown, educated, and had decided that I didn’t want a life with Detective David Wexler.

I didn’t want to be Daddy’s payment to a dirty cop.

I didn’t know all the things the Devil’s Hawks did, but I did know that what he did with his club was dangerous, illegal, and required someone inside law enforcement to look the other way.

That was David. My mission was to keep David happy. For Daddy’s club. It made me sick to think I was expected to give up my body at the whim of the Devil’s Hawks.

That was the idea. Well, that was Daddy’s idea.

I had other ideas.

Ross let me close the door to the powder room of the church. Headlock had let me carry my own bag when we’d gotten into the church. And he hadn’t snooped. That was good because inside my one bag I’d jammed my wallet, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, some shorts, my Chuck Taylor’s and some toiletries. I’d also packed away some of my designs and artwork from my senior project, maybe I could sell them?

There was also a sexy negligee from David that he wanted me to wear tonight. Barf. I was afraid to leave it behind at my house though for fear of giving myself away.

Most important I had my graduation cash. That was something. That would be my lifeline.

I wished I had more time. I wished I could pack a Ford Mustang in there too. No such luck, though. As it was, my bag was stuffed, and my mind was set.

There was a soft knock at the bathroom door.

“Miss Jules, you have about five minutes. The pastor guy said you have to come out.”

“You try peeing in this dress! You wanna come in and hold it up for me Ross?”

“No, no. For sure no. I’ll let your Dad know you’re almost ready.”

“Good.”

Shit. I didn’t have time to change into my jeans. I didn’t really have time to think. It was move my ass or be married. I decided to move. The window to the powder room was high up so I couldn’t reach.

But there was a tall garbage can. I flipped it over and put my bag around my shoulder.

I hoisted myself up and balanced for a second on the window.

It was about six feet drop. Six feet is a lot. I decided to arm hang my way out. That would make it less than a foot.

I swung my legs out of the church window, and then I squirmed over so I was suspended half in and half out. I hesitated for a second.

My bag might weigh me down, but I wasn’t leaving that behind. My thoughts raced, and all the possible scenarios flipped through my head.

Daddy would be enraged by even the smallest show of disobedience. But marrying David Wexler? Worse going on a honeymoon with David Wexler? None of it computed. I couldn’t.

I had a lot of actual and emotional baggage to carry for someone who needed to haul ass. I was so scared.

When I dropped from this window, I would really be leaping into the unknown. I’d be crossing a threshold for sure.

I held tight to the window ledge for another second. My white pumps dangled. I felt the silk of my dress snag on the bricks of the church.

Oops. I was shredding the princess outfit more and more with each passing second.

Then I heaved myself out. I fell to the ground in a heap of white.

I didn’t stay on the ground long. I popped up, gathered the voluminous skirt of my fairy tale wedding dress in a chunk, and held it to one side.

Then I ran.

I ran as fast as my white stilettos could carry me.





Ryder



I needed to just ride. I got on my bike and revved the engine. Sometimes it was the best way to clear my head. To think.

Or to not think.

I looked down at the patch on my leather.

I was an officer now for my club. It was pretty cool. Seemed like yesterday I’d just earned my Great Wolves Grand City cut and now I had the patch of an officer.

It was the auto body shop. That’s what did it.

I was getting to be pretty damned responsible.

Great Wolves, my M.C. ran MMA Gyms, Security Services, and now thanks to me, they were starting auto body shops. Pretty damn lucrative and it was my idea.

Sawyer, my Prez, had given me the honor of Sergeant at Arms because of it. And because there’d been some changes at the top.

Stone, my best friend, had moved from our charter to one down south and Hagan, the old VP had been shot in cold blood. Yeah, bullet holes had led to an opening at the table. Sad but true. No matter how legit you were, violence was a part of the patch.

The recent meeting at the table of the Wolf Den was fresh in my mind as I watched my treads grip the back roads.

“I’m going to be touring for the next month with our MMA fighters. I need this shit locked down. I need you all to be solid at this table. We’ve got a lot of moving parts.” Sawyer had said.

With Sawyer out of the picture for a few weeks, he knew it was important we were settled. Great Wolves were legit and above board, but that meant strong, stable dudes at the top so the members didn’t go off and instigate their own mayhem.