Jerry's Passion: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 6) (28 page)

BOOK: Jerry's Passion: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 6)
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“I’m in the middle of fixing a carburetor on an old Harley. Can we make it in an hour?”

“You now got nine fuckin’ minutes.”

“On my way.”

He shoved the phone in his back pocket. “I gotta go.”

Belle walked over to him and hugged him. “Please don’t overreact to this. I showed you because you asked me to keep an eye on Kylie this summer, but I want you to remember how it was to be young and curious about sex.”

“If she’s fucking who I think she is…” He slammed his fist down on the table again.

“You raised her well. You have to give her credit for knowing who is right for her and who isn’t. These are
her
feelings for a man, not yours.”

He cracked his knuckles and looked at her, his expression tight. “Enough. I gotta go.” He kissed her quickly on the forehead and went out to the garage, slamming the back door. Jumping on his Harley, he peeled out of the driveway and rushed to the clubhouse, adrenaline pumping through his body.

*     *     *

“What the fuck’s
been your problem for the last few days? Shit, you’ve been acting like a bitch who has PMS,” Throttle said to a glum-faced Jerry as they leaned against the bar.

“Maybe he’s in love and she can’t stand him,” joked Rock.

“Maybe the two of you should shut the fuck up before I bust you in your mouths.” Jerry turned away from them and stared at the back wall behind the bar as his two brothers guffawed and ribbed him more. Ignoring them, his thoughts drifted to Kylie, as they always did. Seeing her with Ricky the previous Saturday night had driven him crazy. When he’d seen her enter Burgers & Beer Joint, he’d been blown away at how beautiful she’d looked, and when she’d passed his table, her familiar scent drove his dick into overdrive. He’d been fucking miserable since he’d told her it was over. The truth was he didn’t want it to be over. He wanted her in his life—always had.

All the hookups he’d had since he first had sex back in high school were superficial—a collage of one-night stands, nameless faces, and pleasure induced encounters. Nothing was real until he saw her, but she was young and off-limits, so he watched her grow from afar, burying his desire in easy pussy and booze. Then she was grown up but still off-limits, but the desire he had for her had grown until it was too big to contain. He’d finally succumbed to it, loving every minute of being with her.

The first time he’d taken her, he’d seen her reaction—beautiful and raw. The times they’d spent pleasuring each other were more real to him than anything in his life ever had been, and he’d felt her like the beating of his own heart. Even though he’d pushed her away, the tie they forged was still molten, and he knew it always would be.

As he brought his beer up to his lips, it flew out of his hand. Startled, he turned around, his gaze falling on Banger’s red face and pulsating vein above his temple. Instantly, Jerry’s stomach hardened as he stepped back, squinting.

With his finger in Jerry’s face, Banger screamed, “You fuckin’ sonofabitch! I told you never to touch my daughter!” He slammed his fist into Jerry’s face, making him stumble back further. Then Banger punched him in the stomach and Jerry dropped to his knees. He kicked up, aiming for Jerry’s chin, but Jerry grabbed it and pulled him down. Banger recovered and, with the agility of a mountain lion, pounced on Jerry, pummeling him over and over. “You fucked my daughter, you goddamned piece of shit! Don’t ever get near her again!”

The front door swung open, and Jerry looked out of his swelling eyes to see Hawk come in, dash over to them, and pull Banger off. Banger swung his fist at Hawk but he ducked.

“Calm the fuck down! What the hell’s going on here?”

Banger jerked away from Hawk, nostrils flaring, chest heaving. He started to go back to Jerry, but Hawk held him back, and Jerry breathed a sigh of relief. “Throttle, Rock, help Jerry to his feet,” Hawk ordered.

Two pairs of strong arms set Jerry upright, but then he jerked away. From the stack of napkins on the bar, he grabbed a few and placed them against his bleeding mouth and nose.

“Get the fuck outta my sight, you sonofabitch! Turn in your goddamned patch! You’re out of the Insurgents.”

Behind Banger, Jerry saw Axe lower his head. Jerry didn’t harbor any ill feelings toward his brother. He was doing what an Insurgent always did—giving loyalty to the brotherhood and the president. Throwing a quick head tilt at Axe, he wiped his hand on his jeans, debating on whether to leave as Banger requested or wait to see if he’d cool down.

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Banger snarled.

In a calm voice, Hawk said, “The bylaws don’t forbid members from having relations with any of the members’ family.” He placed his hand on Banger’s shoulder, but he shoved it away. “You know we’ll have to call church. Just because Jerry is going out with Kylie isn’t grounds to throw him out of the club.”

Jerry was grateful Hawk was there to be the voice of reason.

Banger glared at Jerry and Hawk. “He’s isn’t ‘going out’ with my little girl, he’s
fucking
her!”

“That’s not true. I’m not just fucking her. I care a lot about Kylie.” Jerry stuffed the bloodied napkins in his jeans’ pocket. Banger growled. “I know I should’ve manned up and talked to you about going out with her, but I didn’t think you’d let me date her. So I thought—”

“You’re fuckin’ right I wouldn’t have agreed to you going out with her. You’ve fucked every whore in the club
and
outside of it. You fuck two and three women at a time. You think I want my daughter with a man like that? What, you were bored with the whores so you decided to stick your cock in my daughter?” Banger lunged at him again, and it took both Hawk and Rock to hold him back.

“It’s not like that, Banger.”

Throttle came up behind Jerry and whispered in his ear, “Shut the fuck up, dude. You’re making things worse for yourself. Fucking tell him you screwed up, take the punishment, and leave Kylie the hell alone.”

Ignoring Throttle, Jerry looked Banger in the eyes. “I broke it off with her because I know I’m not good for her.”

“The asshole got something right,” Banger hissed.

“But that doesn’t mean I used her. I have strong feelings for her. Very strong. I lo—”

Banger growled and tried to go for him again, and Hawk said, “Jerry, it’s best you get your ass outta here. I’ll let you know when we have church on this. In the interim, stay the hell away from the club.”

Jerry nodded. As he walked past his brothers, they shook their heads, some muttering what an asshole he was to fuck the prez’s daughter. Pushing open the large door, he entered the bright sunlight, the hot rays burning but not able to warm him. He’d lost his brotherhood and his woman, but it was the heartbreak of losing Kylie forever that crushed him; it felt like cement drying in his chest. He pulled his Harley onto the open road, and for the first time since he’d started riding, the peace and sense of freedom he always experienced eluded him.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A
fter Jerry patched
his face and cleaned up, he sat on his balcony smoking a joint, ignoring the fifth call from Wanda he’d received in the past thirty minutes. He punched his thighs as frustration coursed through him. How the fuck had he allowed himself to make such a mess of things? He’d betrayed his president and broken Kylie’s heart.

Wanda’s right, I’m no good. Fuck!

Over the years, his mother had made it a point to tell Jerry he was a loser and a no-good brat, and when he was taken from her and placed with foster families, they continued the litany of what a piece of shit he was. And after all these years, he had to agree with them. He was the only one in the club who disrespected the prez, and the only one who’d fucked his daughter. Before Axe and Jax hooked up with their old ladies, they used to check Kylie out plenty once she hit eighteen, and Rags, Rock, and half a dozen other brothers always ran their eyes over her rack and ass whenever she’d come to the clubhouse. But they kept their distance, knowing not to go near her and insult the president.

Not Jerry, though. Nope, Jerry was just plain no good.

He stubbed out his roach and shoved his vibrating phone in his pocket. Wanda fucking got on his nerves, and he wasn’t in the mood for her. Earlier that day, he’d told her he’d be around in the early evening, so why the hell did she have to keep calling him? He made his way to the pharmacy to pick up her meds. She was so goddamned addicted to the painkillers; he couldn’t believe her doctor continued to prescribe them as frequently as he did.

When he walked into the trailer, Wanda was in her recliner watching TV, holding a Scotch in one hand and a cigarette in the other while the oxygen tubes in her nose made audible puffs of air every few seconds. It was fucking classic. Jerry went directly to the medicine chest in the bathroom and placed her medication on the glass shelf.

“Can you bring me one of them pills?” Wanda yelled over the TV.

“Haven’t you heard booze and pills don’t mix?”

“It’s for later. I have trouble getting outta this damn recliner, so I want it near me in case the pain gets to be too much.”

Shaking one pill in his hand, he walked over and set it down on the plastic TV tray that was always next to her. On it, she had the remote, a few tabloids, her reading glasses, a pill box, a pack of menthol cigarettes, a flask, and several empty glasses. He flopped onto the small couch.

“What the hell happened to you? Did you get in a fight?”

“Something like that. Where’s Kelsey?”

“She’s got a new boyfriend who has some bucks. She’s with him most nights.”

“Does he live in the trailer park?”

“No. He lives somewhere in town.”

“Where did she meet him?”

“Not sure.”

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fuck, Wanda. Don’t you think you should know what your eighteen-year-old daughter is up to? Do you know anything about this guy?”

“I know he comes over here and is nice to me. A helluva lot nicer than you are. And he gives your sister and me money without a fuckin’ attitude.”

“Whatever.” Jerry
really
wasn’t in the mood. They both sat watching the television, his mind on Kylie as always. He wondered if Banger had gone home and confronted her. They should’ve been dealing with this together, but there he sat in a broken-down trailer with Wanda, who was killing herself with booze and cigarettes, and Kylie was all alone.
Fuck!

The screen door squeaked open and he turned his head just as Kelsey came inside. She wore a short spandex skirt and barely-there tube top, and she teetered on four-inch heels as she walked past him. She definitely looked like one of the party girls who hung out at the club on the weekends.

“Why the hell are you dressed like a slut?”

“Why the hell do you think you can ask me that?”

Ignoring her question, he said, “You can’t be going out like that. Where’ve you been?”

“Out with my boyfriend. And it’s none of your business how I dress. He likes the way I look.”

She wobbled to the kitchen, and that’s when he saw all the angry red marks across her upper thighs. “What the fuck are those marks on your legs?”

Kelsey pulled down her skirt in a vain attempt to hide them. “I scraped them across a wood bench,” she said, turning around to face him.

“Bullshit. Your new boyfriend do that shit to you?”

“No. Look, no one asked you to come in here acting like my fucking dad or something. Leave me alone. I’m tired.” She placed a can of pop against her mouth and drank.

“Leave her alone. She’s a slut, but at least she’s bringing in some money.” Wanda lit up another cigarette.

Kelsey laughed, her eyes flashing as she looked at her mother. “You’re right. I am a slut and a cunt. I’m my boyfriend’s slut.”

“What the hell you talking about? You’re fucked in the head,” Jerry said.

She ignored him and went into her room, slamming the door behind her. He shook his head and went to her bedroom door. “Your boyfriend got a name?”

“Mark.”

The gasp was audible through the door. “What’s wrong?”

“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. See what you made me do? Now I’ll be punished. Leave me alone.”

Strains of anger curled around him. “You letting him do that kind of shit to you?”

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

Jerry stood by the door. “Let her be. Come sit with me,” Wanda cackled.

Slowly, he walked into the living room, pissed that Wanda had fucked them all up. “You need to take better care of Kelsey. She’s fuckin’ outta control, and you’re her goddamned mom. Fuckin’ act like one.”

“She don’t pay no attention to me. What can I do? I’m sick. She should be helping me out, not whoring around. I’m the one no one cares about. All you think about is her. What about—”

He opened the screen door. “Where you going?” she asked.

“Home.”

“You got some money for me?” Greed lit up her eyes.

“Ask your daughter’s john. You’re pimping her out, aren’t you?”

With Wanda cussing up a storm, Jerry jumped down the porch stairs and straddled his bike. In his peripheral view, he saw a glint of gold and he whipped his head around. Nothing. Sitting still for several minutes, he strained his ears to pick up any sounds that may be amiss. Nothing. Only the muffled voices from television sets, and the moans from fucking. Just a usual evening at Cedars Trailer Park. He turned his Harley around and headed back to his apartment.

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