Unbeloved (Undeniable #4)(2)
This is the story of us all, all our fates intertwined. And for that reason alone, pain and death be damned, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Chapter One
It was a beautiful day. Montana was in full bloom, with nothing but green as far as the eye could see. The sun was shining, children were playing, and laughter was plentiful. All in all, it was just another typical summer barbecue at the Hell’s Horsemen motorcycle compound that, as usual, everyone was thoroughly enjoying.
That is, everyone except for me.
For me, the sun was too bright, the children were a painful reminder that my own daughter wasn’t present, and the laughter was just too darn loud. I felt suffocated by it all, wishing I were anywhere else, wishing I was anyone else . . . anyone but me.
“Dorothy?”
“Hmmm?”
I glanced up at the small group of friends encircling me: Kami, Mick and his wife, Adriana, and Eva, who was peering at me curiously. Those eyes of hers, too big and shockingly gray, seemed to see straight through me; no matter how desperately I tried to hide my feelings, she was always able to discern them. Although I supposed it came with her job.
Married to Deuce West, the president of the Hell’s Horsemen, one of Eva’s unspoken duties was keeping us women in line, ensuring any emotional problems we might have didn’t interfere with the men and their business.
All the same, she was the closest thing I had to a best friend, even if I wasn’t hers.
Kami, her childhood friend and the wife of another club member, held that precious title. I wasn’t jealous; I was just happy to be included in the inner circle. It hadn’t always been that way. Before Deuce had brought Eva home, life was very different inside the club for those of us who weren’t lucky enough to be married to one of the boys.
Women like me—sometimes called side pieces, muffler bunnies, seat warmers—were essentially club whores. Even though I had a somewhat elevated position within the club as a den mother of sorts, and was paid to cook and clean, I still had been considered a second-class citizen, expendable and easily replaced.
Eva had changed all that. She’d changed a lot about the way things worked, and during it all had become more like a sister to me than my own had ever been.
“I’m fine,” I lied, trying to smile. “The little one is kicking, is all.”
Being eight months along in my pregnancy, it was easy to blame my moods on the baby, but Eva was far from gullible. With her eyes full of pity, she nodded and turned away. I did the same, my gaze seeking out the reason I was here, standing amongst a club full of criminals and their families.
Already looking in my direction, Jase’s smiling eyes met mine. When his gaze dropped to my swollen stomach, his smile turned to a rather devilish grin.
Even after nearly seventeen years together, it was still painfully apparent how Jason “Jase” Brady, a married man with children, had been able to convince the dutiful wife and mother I’d once been to become his “club whore.” So much so that all I had to do was close my eyes and I could once again hear the bells jingling on the door, feel the wooden floor bend and creak below my feet, hear my own voice call out as it had on that day so many years before . . .
? ? ?
“Mornin’ Joey,” I had called out as I’d entered the neighborhood convenience store.
From behind the counter, Joe Weaver, a former classmate of mine, had glanced up from his Playboy magazine and flashed me a mouthful of crooked yellow teeth. “Mornin’, midget,” he’d said cheerfully. “You bring me any muffins today?”
“Sorry,” I said over my shoulder as I headed for the medicine aisle. “Teg’s got the flu. Poor thing has been throwing up all night.”
Grabbing what I needed, I headed toward the counter and began pulling my money from my pocket.
“Pete home with her?” Joey asked.
I shook my head. “He’s over the road again, this time for a month.”
“Who’s he haulin’ for now?”
“Not sure,” I said, shrugging.
My marriage wasn’t a typical one. We were more like roommates than anything else, roommates who couldn’t be bothered with each other.
His job hauling freight cross-country gave us the luxury of living apart from each other while still appeasing our parents’ wishes: to raise our daughter together.
But Pete usually didn’t tell me what he was doing or where he was going unless it directly concerned me, and I didn’t care enough to ask.
“He’s with a smaller company now,” I added. “Hauling paper, I think.”
While ringing up my purchases, Joey nodded distractedly. “So, your folks got Teg?”
I snorted softly. The idea of my parents ever willingly helping me was laughable. On a good day they considered me an embarrassment, but on most days, a failure they wanted nothing to do with.
“She’s with Mary.”
At the mention of my older sister’s name, Joey grimaced, and my lips twisted as I fought the urge to laugh. Mary was no one’s favorite person. Like most people in Miles City, she was religious and a right-wing conservative, but she took it to another level entirely, talking down to people who didn’t share her viewpoints, incessantly preaching to anyone who would listen, and even those who wouldn’t. Needless to say, she wasn’t Miss Popularity, but she was the only real estate agent in town and so, whether they liked it or not, people were forced to interact with her.