Sassy Road

Sassy Road

A
Heroes and Rogues
Story

By Destiny Blaine

Resplendence Publishing, LLC
http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118

Sassy Road
Copyright © 2012 Destiny Blaine
Edited by Jessica Bimberg
Cover art by Les Byerley,
www.les3photo8.com

Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-484-0

Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Electronic Release: March 2012

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

To my husband, Brent.
Without you, this series wouldn’t have materialized.

Prologue

Knoxville, Tennessee

Sassy positioned herself in front of a long wall of mirrors. Checking out her appearance, she was only slightly aware of Scott Matthews, her personal physical trainer, standing behind her. When she glanced up, the only thing she noticed was his narrowed gaze and set jaw.

Scott was worried about her, and for good reason. She was preparing to enter a war zone, a territorial battle fought between two rival motorcycle clubs. She possessed motive, a solid purpose for pressing forward, rather than delaying her initiative. Her timing couldn’t have been worse, or better, considering how she planned to pursue her enemy and take down a man considered the worst of his kind.

“Are you ready for this?”

“Absolutely,” she replied, tilting her head sideways as she adjusted a low-cut shirt cropped at the waist.

Scott took a deep breath. “You know the MC has a reputation.”

“By the time I leave that God-forsaken clubhouse, I’ll have one, too.”

He grunted. “Sassy, these guys don’t mess around.”

“East Tennessee’s motorcycle clubs won’t know what hit them by the time I’m through with them. You’ve prepared me.”

“Physically, yes. Emotionally? Only you know whether or not you’re ready for what lies ahead.”

“I’ve got this,” she drawled, deciding she looked much healthier than the day she’d walked in there. She’d been rail thin, but hardly fit all those months ago. The plastic surgeon in California had been more than up to the task and not only changed, but vastly improved her overall appearance. She’d been an ugly duckling when she’d first entered Dr. Vaughn’s medical facility. Now, after Scott’s help with physical conditioning, not to mention her new pug nose and fuller cheeks, she was actually pretty.

In many ways, Sassy had a hard time adjusting. Whenever she looked in the mirror, she wanted to leap backwards. The reflection staring back at her made her feel as if she were wearing someone else’s face, stuck in another person’s body.

“You can always call if you need me.”

“I know.” She pushed her natural ringlets over her shoulder. Formerly a dull brunette, Sassy now sported henna red hair noticeably shimmering under the bright studio lights. She observed how her green eyes gleamed, practically sparkled with mischief as much as self-assurance. Compliments of colored contact lenses, her eyes no longer resembled windows with drawn blinds.

Thanks to a tough physical regimen, total beauty make-over, and a pile of self-help books, Sassy finally believed in herself. Someone lived within her skin. A vibrant, young woman with a future her stepfather didn’t stand a chance of destroying would walk away from the upcoming event stronger and more confident, resilient and unscathed.

Retribution was coming. She could almost taste avengement. A tingle rushed up and down her spine as she fought to contain nervous energy. That little twitch she developed as an abused child drew the left side of her face in a sudden spasm. Her mouth quivered. Her head jerked, and her nose instantly flared.

“That’s the dead giveaway right there. Muscle tics are distinct. Damsel lived with you long enough to pick up on sudden simultaneous tremors.”

“I won’t approach Damsel’s MC right away. The Devil’s Angels would suck me up and spit me out.” She blushed when Scott’s jaw dropped. “Figuratively speaking.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“I’ll stick to the plan, Scott. I won’t go near Damsel until I’m sporting a Heroes and Rogues leather jacket. Sliding into the position of your buddy’s old lady will be a piece of cake.”

Scott’s brow furrowed. “Sassy, you have to form a strong connection within the MC or else when you face Damsel, you’ll be on your own. You can’t form a relationship overnight with one of these guys. They’ll be suspicious.”

“I think that depends on the level of determination,” she said confidently.

“I know you believe you can handle whatever the Heroes and Rogues
throw your way, but trust me, that group isn’t an organization of peace-lovin’ fellas. I met a few of ‘em back when I rode with the Angels. The club is infested with more rogues than heroes.”

Sassy wheeled around on her heels. “That reminds me. When I came to you for help, why did you discourage a direct connection with the Angels? Approaching the Angels first made more sense than trying to gain an inside position through another charter. Wouldn’t you think?”

“No.”

“Why? I mean, you’ve gone through all my past pictures. I don’t look anything like the scared and frightened nineteen year old Damsel last saw. If we’d worked another angle, maybe I could’ve been escorted right through Damsel’s back door. I could’ve hooked up with a Devil’s Angels’ member, strolled right into one of their parties and Damsel wouldn’t have been able to stop me. He couldn’t have done anything about my presence at his clubhouse.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Sassy. In East Tennessee, Damsel is the chapter leader, the club’s president. What he says goes. It’s too dangerous to go through another chapter within the same club.

“Approaching a different MC altogether is wiser, not to mention much safer. Using the Heroes and Rogues is your best option. The Angels would choose Damsel’s side over yours any day of the week and several times in a drunken stupor.”

“Regardless of how this begins…or ends, Damsel will never see me coming. I’ve changed. I’ve matured.”

“You went under a surgeon’s scalpel. Your outer appearance has been altered significantly. You’re tough, Sassy, and fit. As far as maturing, only time will tell. No one can predict—I can’t, you can’t—how you’ll respond when you see Damsel again. He damaged you in a way you can’t begin to understand.

“Counseling helped. Undergoing surgery may have served its purpose for your goals, but a new face and stronger body didn’t change who you are inside. Where maturity is concerned, that comes with age and life experiences, but my fears are legitimate and have nothing to do with gaining a position inside one of the clubs. I’m afraid you’ll see Damsel and crumble. That’s why I wanted you under someone’s wing. The H and R boys are notorious for protecting their women.”

“And this Logan guy? What do you know about him?”

“He’s your only
safe
guaranteed ticket inside. When you arrive at the Heroes and Rogues clubhouse, ask for him. Establish right away that you’re not there just because you happened by. You stopped in because you remembered a friend mentioning him. Tell Logan we were lovers, and then I dumped you when I reunited with my ex.”

“Sharon will love that.”

“She’ll back up the story.”

Sassy sighed. She owed Sharon and Scott so much more than she’d ever be able to repay.

“Logan will get you inside. You’re his type. My sources tell me he doesn’t have an old lady so you don’t have to worry about any surprise obstacles there.” Scott slid his hand inside his front jacket pocket. He withdrew a photograph and handed over the five-by-seven print. “This is your guy. As soon as you walk in the clubhouse, ask for him.

“Avoid making small talk with the other members. Don’t give the club a chance to view you as another broad waiting to be passed around. Mention Logan, and everything else will take care of itself. Stick to your agenda.”

Sassy searched Scott’s reassuring gaze before she examined the picture. She gulped as soon as she saw those familiar dark black eyes staring back at her.

“Something wrong?”

“You might say that,” she whispered, trying to steady her shaking hand. “I haven’t even made it to Beech Creek yet, and we’ve already hit a snag. You failed to mention Logan’s last name, or the fact that he was originally from Sevierville.”

“I have no idea where’s he’s from.”

“I do—Sevierville.”

“And you know him?”

“Yes.”

“How well?” He frowned

“It’s not like that.”

“Well enough for him to recognize you?”

Sassy shook her head. “I don’t think so. We went to school together, but we didn’t run in the same circles.”

“Were you friends?”

“I wouldn’t call us friends exactly.”

“Damn it, Sassy. Will he recognize the muscle tics?”

Sassy’s mind took her back to a time when she’d been seated next to Logan in sixth grade homeroom. Her arms had been covered in bruises. Her lip was split.

A substitute teacher, lacking tact, had asked Sassy if she’d been in an accident. The woman hadn’t bothered asking questions privately. She’d called Sassy out in front of the class. Sassy had ducked her head immediately, desperately trying to hide her nervous tic. When she lifted her head again, Logan had offered her an understanding smile and a piece of chewing gum, which she’d declined.

“He won’t know me,” she assured Scott, not at all convinced.

“Sassy, I don’t like this.”

“Nothing has changed,” she snapped, grabbing her handbag.

“I thought you grew up in Beech Creek.”

“No, Sevierville.”
Just like Logan
.

She clutched the photograph. Of all the places where she might find Logan Marcs, he was working in Beech Creek.

“Sassy, have you been honest with me? I mean, do you know your way around that area or not? I always thought you grew up there.”

“Basically, I did,” she said. “I spent more time there than in Sevierville. Damsel’s father was one of the founding members of the Devil’s Angels. He started the local charter in Beech Creek. Whenever I was too battered and bruised to attend school, Damsel made me ride with him to the clubhouse. I know those hills in Beech Creek better than most folks living there. As a kid, I explored them.”

“There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

“You’re right.” She thinned her lips. She hated to tell Logan’s secrets. If, for any reason, her instincts were wrong and Scott couldn’t be trusted, she didn’t to want place Logan in unnecessary danger.

“Sassy? What is it?” he insisted. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Sassy hesitated. “There’s no way Logan is a full-patch member with the Heroes and Rogues or anyone else.”