 
# Crash & Burn

### Love and Repair

## Chelsea Camaron

### Contents

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Crash and Burn

Letter to the Reader

Prologue

1. Left Behind

2. Life Goes On

3. A New Year

4. What's the harm?

5. Taking a Chance

6. I Got You

7. Bedtime Confessions

8. Short-Lived

9. Problem

10. It Begins

11. Waking up is hell

12. Love is Blind

13. No Way Out

The End

About the Author

Also by Chelsea Camaron

Excerpt from Restore My Heart

Ryder

Excerpt from One Ride

Excerpt from One Ride

Publication Acknowledgments
Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2013

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Chelsea Camaron, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.

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This is a work of fiction. All character, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

1st edition published: September 2013

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Thank you for purchasing this book. This book and its contents are the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied, and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes.

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_This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. Content involves strong language and sexual situations. All parties portrayed in sexual situations are over the age of 18. All characters are a work of fiction._

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_Parts of this book tie into a motorcycle club series. This book is not meant to be an exact depiction of a motorcycle club but rather a work of fiction meant to entertain._

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# Crash and Burn

### Love and Repair Series Book 1

A crash ended and started it all.

Dina Fowler is attending college with her longtime best friend Maggie Lawson. Life is good. They live carefree until the crash changed it all.

Her freshman year ends with the loss of her parents, spiraling Dina into a deep depression. Secluding herself as she picks up the pieces to her life, she slowly finds the only person she has left is Maggie.

Chance encounters sometimes make the most incredible moments. Other times, they crash and burn.

A chance encounter brings Michael barreling into Dina's lost and vulnerable life. Playing on every weakness she has, he weasels his way into her heart.

They have a slow build up to hell that soon becomes Dina's daily nightmare.

She wants out, but has no idea how to escape her new reality.

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**This is a fast-paced, quick read meant to introduce you to the characters of the _Love and Repair_ series. Please note: the ending is not a traditional HEA, there is happily ever after for Dina in Restore My Heart.**

# Letter to the Reader

_Dear Reader_ ,

Broken, battered, not defeated. This is not a pretty story wrapped in a nice package. This is a real story—parts are my very own experience. Defeated by the hands and words of a man, I am no more. This is a story of how easily signs can be overlooked.

Outsiders often say, "How do women stay in abusive relationships?" They don't understand. It begins in little ways, a slow build up. By the time a victim is aware, it can be too late.

When I released the _Love and Repair Series_ (originally published as the _Daddy's Girls Series_ ), I wanted to write stories that focused on the ability of one to love, be restored, forgive, start over, change, and last a lifetime. _Restore My Heart_ was the first book to be released. Many readers asked for more backstory on Dina and Ryder. Well, here is the back story—I never promised it would be soft.

The rest of the series is written in both points of view. However, I did not write _Crash and Burn_ with alternating points of view because I cannot grasp what would go through a man's mind to hurt someone he claims to love. Therefore, this book is only written in Dina's point of view, the first scene will be the only scene to be in Ryder's point of view.

Thank you for your support, and I hope you go through the journey of love and repair, beginning with this book and continuing on with the entire series.

Much love and appreciation,

_Chelsea Camaron_

# Prologue

### Ryder

Damn, what will the night bring? Brayden and I are heading out to a party. Typically, we start at one party, maybe make our way to another; but by the end of every night, it usually ends up following us to our place. College life and freedoms are our comforts.

Running my fingers through my hair to spike it up, I smile at my reflection in the mirror. Yes, I am one panty-melting bastard with a simple smile.

"Brayden, you ready?" I ask, walking into our living room.

"Yeah, man." He gives me a smartass smirk. "Heads-up, Suzanne from last weekend is going to meet me tonight at Carly's." He pats his chest like the cocky shithead he is. "She's coming back with me. Just so, you know, you don't have any surprises." He winks, and I can only manage to shake my head.

"Why, oh, why do you give them seconds? Suzanne is cute and all, but fresh pussy, man..." I continue shaking my head, giving him a half-smile. "While we're young and free, sample the flavors of life, my man. Enjoy the buffet of women before we end up with the same meal night after fuckin' night."

Turning his back to me to head out, he continues, "I have plenty of samples. You're the man-whore. I'm happy to indulge in seconds or thirds if the ass is good, and Suzanne's ass is good." Looking over his shoulder at me, he says, "There's this whole innocent appeal to her. Get her alone and started, my man, she's a hellcat in bed." He ends on a sigh.

"A hellcat is good, but are you ready to give her more? Round two and three can lead to expectation. Think on that before she sinks her claws too deep and you get tied down," I tell him as we walk out the front door.

"Suzanne knows the deal. She's not looking for more than a good time for as long as she can get it. I'm not a man to get tied down, married—all that shit. She knows it," he says, climbing into my car.

It isn't long before we pull up to Carly's house, outside of Concord, North Carolina. She has a small house on a hill. Rumor is, her parents bought the place for her and her man until they graduate from college. Thing is, Carly and her man are on the outs and, well, she likes to keep her house occupied.

I guess it's true what they say: some people can't handle being alone. Her loss is our gain.

This has been the party spot for the last few weeks. Logistically, this is the place. It's just far enough out of the way that the cops don't bother to come out, and the closest neighbor is down the road a good bit. Plenty of parking, and no one too close by to complain.

Walking into the small house, I see the party is already in full swing. At six-foot-two inches, I can easily see over the crowd. My immediate reaction is to scope the place for my piece of ass.

I see eight women I have recently hooked up with; two of whom are already en route to their approach. My reputation is that of a one-night-stand kind of man. Why they are even bothering to come over here is beyond me.

Damn, I make it clear in the morning: don't call me because I won't be calling you. Nothing personal. I just have my entire life ahead of me.

One day, I will find someone and settle down. For now, I want to enjoy myself and sow my wild oats without planting my seed. Safe sex, I laugh to myself, always wrap it up.

Brayden immediately takes off to Suzanne. Within minutes he's already in a corner with Suzanne, his hand up her shirt while he swallows her face. They won't make it back to our place. He will tap that ass in the bathroom in less than thirty minutes. She does have that sweet, innocent look to her when she comes up for air, though. Poor girl, Brayden will corrupt her and break her heart into a million pieces. Oh well, she's a consenting adult.

These women and their misconception of changing a man make me laugh.

"Hey, Ryder," a chick purrs up against me. How she knows my name, I don't know. She is cute with shoulder-length, dark hair. She has this exotic thing going on with olive skin tones and deep chocolate eyes. Her shape is a little on the skinny side for my tastes, and her boobs are a tad small, but I can work with them. The green corset top, skinny jeans, and fuck-me heels scream she's game to get down.

Yes, she will do for tonight. I can take her to a room and fuck her senseless with nothing on but those damn shoes.

"Good evenin', sexy," I croon, dropping my voice to a deep baritone.

I should ask her name; that would be the nice thing to do. Honestly, her name makes not one bit of difference to me, though. My name will be the one coming out of her plump lips in less than an hour and, well, to my dick, that's what matters.

Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her to me, tickling my hand up her back, testing the laces of the corset.

She automatically begins pushing up against me, her breasts swelling from her top with every breath she takes.

_Putty in my fucking hands._

Leaning down to breathe hot against her ear, I whisper, "Beautiful, how 'bout I take you down the hall and we start this party right?" I'm close enough for her to sense my lips on her skin without actually touching them to her; ghost flutters of what I will give her if she goes with me.

Reaching under her hair, I give the back of her neck a small squeeze. Tilting my head just enough, I then brush my lips against the spot behind her ear, inhaling the scent of vanilla on her skin.

"Do you smell this good everywhere?" I tease my temptress. "I'm ready to find out if you taste as sweet as you smell."

Here is how I see it. Women, the softer sex, the most beautiful creatures ever created... from the stick skinny to the plush curves, the blondes, brunettes, redheads, and even the bottled hair color of many shades, they are all a work of art. A woman's body is a sculpture, a masterpiece that I want to freely roam my hands over every delectable inch of.

Women smell better, look better, walk better, and the sounds they make are pure seduction, especially when they don't realize they are even doing it. I'm an equal opportunity fucker; I want to experience them all.

Led by the hand, I follow my companion down the hall to a free bedroom. Shutting and locking the door behind us, I pull her to me and kiss her, not holding back. I part her lips with my tongue and invade her mouth while lacing my hands together behind her head, massaging her scalp with my fingertips as I devour every centimeter of her hot mouth.

She rocks her hips into me, wanting this. Then again, I have never been one to be rejected.

When she tugs at my shirt, I break away to remove it. She immediately teases my torso as she traces the lines of my abdominal muscles. I work out. I stay fit. I have nothing to be ashamed of where my body, or my bedroom skills, are concerned.

Trepidation suddenly radiates off her.

I pause, looking down at her, watching her face as she bites her bottom lip. Pulling back, I smile, waiting for a sign of her intentions as I continue to softly massage her scalp.

"You wanna stop, this stops," I reassure her. I like pussy. I treasure it as the gift it is, and it's one to be given, not taken.

When she moves to my belt buckle, I drop my hands from her head to her hips. Leaning in, I kiss her again as I work on the clasps on the back of her corset under the lacing. Feeling each one give as they slowly free her breasts is like slowly scratching off the winning numbers to a lottery ticket. My prize is coming soon.

Dropping my head to her exposed nipples, I lick a circle, following the line of her areola before I ever so gently blow on the sensitive skin. She shudders. Yep, putty in my hands.

"Ryder, you're sexier than I imagined," she moans as I back her to the bed with a laugh.

Laying her down, I remove those sexy as sin shoes while she unbuttons her pants. Then I stand back and watch in sheer satisfaction, blended with anticipation, as she slides them off, along with her panties. With her bare before me, I drink her in as I slide the heels back on her feet.

Kissing my way up her legs, I smile against her strip of hair. "The carpet matches the curtains. Hmm..." I let the vibrations of my voice tease her as I flick my tongue out to barely touch her outer pussy lips.

As I cup her ass, she spreads her legs wide for me, opening to me as her pussy glistens with her arousal. Yes, she wants me, and I plan to let her have me.

For tonight, that is.

Scooping her ass, I push her pussy to my face, licking between her lips and flicking my tongue against her clit. Her taste is sweet, and her body trembles at the first touch. So responsive; the shit men like me get off on time and time again.

I lick and suck her clit before moving my right hand to slide a finger inside. She instantly begins to rock against me, seeking her release. I can feel it building as I add another finger, her inner walls clenching tightly around me. Then I moan, the vibrations easily pushing her over the edge.

Riding her through the aftershocks, I slow my pace as she whispers my name.

Not a single sound is more erotic to my ears.

I pull away to remove my pants and roll on a condom. Then I position myself over her, kissing her neck while teasing her entrance with the head of my rock-hard cock before entering her slowly.

She gasps, and I immediately still. She's tight, even for having an orgasm less than five minutes ago.

Knowing I have girth and length, I allow her a moment to adjust to my size as I feel her insides grip and release around me. Inflicting pain on my partner is not something I get off on.

Finally, after what feels like agonizing moments, but is merely seconds, she moves, taking me deeper. She lets me know she's ready as she grips my ass, pushing me hard into her. That's when I begin moving in and out, maintaining a steady rhythm.

I hold off my own orgasm as her body builds up again. It doesn't take long before she is on the verge, tightening around my cock as her breath hitches. I quicken the pace, allowing myself to work toward my own release.

Vaguely, I hear her say, "Ryder, my name. Say my name."

I pump faster, feeling the tingle up my spine.

Sucking her nipple hard, I send her over the edge just as my climax hits, filling the condom.

As we lie there, trying to get our breathing under control and I begin to pull out, I hear her again, "Say my name."

Well, if this isn't awkward...

Regardless, the chick needs to know the truth.

"I don't know your name and really don't need to. You got yours, honey. Twice. And I got mine. It was a good night."

She immediately jumps up, scrambling to get dressed, tears on her face.

Rather than deal with the drama, I go to the adjoining bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean up.

If she wanted me to know her name so badly, maybe she should have clarified it before I put my dick in her. If she didn't care to make sure I knew, I'm certainly not going to care to ask.

I know I'm an asshole. I'm young and free. One day, though, I know a woman will come along and tame me. One day, a woman will come crashing into my life and change every thought I have about women.

Until then, I'm going to enjoy every second and every curve I have along the way.

# Left Behind

### Dina

Whew, it's over! The semester from hell is now behind me. My grades aren't what they should be, yet I passed. Do final scores really matter anymore? No one is left to care.

My parents are gone. Seven months ago, a car accident took them from me.

Taking pity on me, my professors allowed me to take my exams late and from home while I was taking in all that happened. Last semester, my grades were enough to get me by during the blur of events. The pain and loss from last term carried into this one, though, and I am simply thankful to have the time behind me.

Getting by, it's all I have managed to do in everything.

After the joint memorial service, I squared away what I could at the coast and came back to Charlotte for school. It is all overwhelming—having an apartment here that my parents picked out with the Lawson's and suddenly having to deal with our family home in Emerald Isle, North Carolina, yet not living there.

The Lawson's are my best friend, Maggie's, family. Maggie has been my best friend since we met in high school. And her parents were also some of my parents' closest friends on the coast. They were part of the Hellions Motorcycle Club - my dad was an original founding member. When the Lawson's moved down the street and I became so close with Maggie, they ended up joining the club to. Now they are the closest thing to family I have left.

Then there was the need to sell the business because, let's face it, as much as my dad was a great mechanic, I'm not. I get by compared to most girls, but the shop isn't my goal in life. Roundman, Blaine Reklinger and my dad shared the shop so he easily bought out my dad's half with a healthy settlement for me. The process has been emotionally so taxing that I am thankful to Roundman and the Hellions for making the sale as easy as possible. Then there have been the meetings... All the meetings with my attorney to settle the case. All of this while trying to adjust to life alone. It's been too much for me to handle most days.

I had the kind of life most people would envy. My parents were so in love and so supportive of anything I wanted to do. As an only child, losing both my parents simultaneously breaks me to the very soul of who I am. Having no one to share the pain, understand the fears, and to face the loss with me all ends with this empty, helpless feeling inside that I can't find a way to conquer. Clinging to what once was only spirals my depression further.

I want time to stop. No, that's a lie. I want time to rewind. I want to stop my parents from ever going to the last car show. The one where another trophy was won, doing what they loved, before two lives were lost and three destroyed. The third being mine. If they would have skipped this one, they would still be with me.

It's not their fault. No, the truck driver was drunk when he hopped behind the wheel of his beverage distribution rig. He got in the driver's seat, and I got left behind in the wake of his actions.

For days, weeks, really, I called my mom's phone just to listen to her voicemail message. I slept in my dad's T-shirts for the longest time because, at first, they kept the nightmares at bay.

Not anymore.

Day by day, the pain from my loss becomes greater. There is no light coming through the window. Darkness engulfs me. I'm drowning in a sea of my own emotions, and I can't come up for air. The loss is too deep to see my way out.

The thing is, I don't need the pain to go away. I need my parents.

This isn't how things are supposed to be. My parents had that once in a lifetime kind of love. My dad was the bad boy who lived next door to my "follow the rules" mother. He was her first and only love. He worked hard to lay the world at her feet.

How can something so good end so tragically? How could they leave me when I still need them?

Sure, I'm an adult by legal standards, but at nineteen, I still need and want their guidance.

In all the mess that has ensued, I have managed to make it through my freshman year of college. The year began with me having not a single care in the world, outside of school, and ended with me having zero direction and no one to help me tunnel through the challenges of adulthood.

Well, I guess, to an outsider, I have people. I just don't have the people I want to have with me. The two people who came together in love to make me and raise me. The two people who worked hard to give me a good life. The two people who loved me more than anyone in the world. My parents are gone, and it's a loss I still can't seem to face.

My grandparents died when I was younger, and my aunts and uncles were never close with my parents. Maggie and the entire Lawson family have been amazing in helping me navigate the many facets of estate inheritance. I don't know what I would do without them. On the other hand, they are a painful reminder of my own parents. Even the Hellions MC, while their intentions are good to be supportive of me, have been a constant reminder of what I won't have again.

In the end, there is no way I could have done any of this without their support. I wouldn't have returned to Charlotte and gone back to school if it wasn't for their encouragement.

In all of this, I have enough money for a lifetime. If I budget and don't spend frivolously, I don't need to work or even have this education. The settlement from the drunk driver's company took care of that, thanks to the shark of an attorney the Lawson's helped me find and hire.

Alas, the Lawson's begged me to follow through with my goals as if my parents were still here. With the many reminders that they were watching from Heaven, I was told they would want to see me succeed.

What is success, really? If it's measured in my bank statement, then school isn't necessary. If it's measured in accomplishing something one sets out to do no matter what shit-storm life throws at them... well, I'm hanging on, but I make no promises I will finish it out.

"Well, Mom and Dad," I whisper to the air around me, "I survived my first full semester without you."

Nevertheless, I'm drowning in despair, and there is no desire within me to reach for a life preserver.

# Life Goes On

Every college student here is celebrating the end of another semester, Maggie included. She recently started dating someone, but they aren't exclusive. He seems nice enough, from the little I have been around him and what she shares with me. As long as she is happy, then I'm happy for her.

It's sad, but honestly, I'm also happy she's out of my hair. Tonight, she already told me she would be crashing at his place after a party while I'm here at our apartment. While she lives it up with a new love interest, I am snuggling into our couch, silently reflecting on my life's losses.

Maggie means well, but I have no desire to go out. Nothing in me wants to have a good time. How can I? My parents can't have fun, they can't make memories, they can't have new experiences. How can I find reasons to smile when there are no more smiles left for my mom and dad? How can I move on when they can't? After all, there is no coming back from death.

Unless you have faced a loss like mine, then don't tell me how to pick up the pieces of my life. This is the ever-reoccurring argument Maggie and I have. How is someone supposed to move on when the two people who gave them life are gone? How can you start living again?

There are no pieces left in my life without my parents.

They made me.

They loved me.

They raised me.

They _are_ me.

How do I go on without part of my soul?

My phone rings, bringing me out of my reverie. Looking at the caller ID, I shrug. I'm drowning in my depression and can't see the light. No, I don't want to see the light, there is no light without my parents.

_Get your shit together, Dina. If you don't answer in the right tone, Harrison will see right through you._

"Hello," I answer with a failed attempt at sounding chipper.

"Hey, how's it going, baby girl?" he asks, and I can hear the fatigue in his voice.

Harrison is Maggie's oldest brother. He's also an active duty United States Marine.

"Good." I try to steel my voice, fighting back the desolation in my heart and in my tone, not wanting to give away my emotions. "Today was the last day of finals. How are you?"

He sighs. "Things have been busy. Sorry I haven't called much this week. They have us on a workup for the next deployment."

"It's okay, Harrison. Maggie and I know you're getting ready to leave. Honestly, we've both been studying; haven't had much time to think about who has or hasn't called," I lie.

There may not have been thoughts about phone calls, but I have had plenty of time to drown my mind in my own sorrows. Harrison may be Maggie's big brother in blood, but he's my big brother in heart. Lately, his calls have been the only thing that seems to snap me out of my absence in life.

"You okay, D? You sound worse tonight than you have in a while." He gives it to me straight, like always, so I decide to give him a little.

"I'm getting by. Trying to learn how to cope." I really would like to learn how to function without the ever-present sense of loneliness covering me.

"Seriously, Dina, you need to get out some. Life goes on, even when we don't want it to. Being depressed is understandable, but hiding in your apartment isn't going to bring your parents back." He sighs, his tone softening even more. "I love you like my sister. The hand you've been dealt, babe, it sucks. It is what it is, though. Baby girl, you gotta know this isn't what your parents would want for you."

I fight back the tears prickling behind my eyes. "I know, Harrison." I do know. "You're right, but I don't know how to go on." The rasp in my tone doesn't hide the emotions I'm so desperately trying to fight back.

"Baby steps, one day at a time. We're all worried about you, Dina. While I'm in the sandbox, you gotta be strong. I can't be worried about you. I gotta focus. I can't call much, either, as you know, but email me every day, Dina, every single fucking day. I need to know you're getting by. I'll respond as often as I can." His tone now turns serious, less coddling. "I gotta prep for inspection tomorrow. Muster for formation is early, and then, if we get held back because some slob doesn't clean his rack right then, I may not be able to check in tomorrow. That's your heads-up. Love you and talk soon, okay?"

Muster for formation. I want to sigh at thinking of how military life has changed Harrison. He's driven, focused, and on point being a Marine. Since he lives in the barracks, he's explained that, if they don't pass inspection, they can't leave base. Nor can they make calls and such. I don't really understand it all, but he takes it seriously, so I don't push.

"Don't worry about me, Harrison. Go be all you can be," I joke.

He laughs and, for a brief moment, my heart feels lighter.

"Low blow. That's the Army, you brat, and you know it."

"Love you, Harrison." I pause. "Be safe. I can't lose you, too."

"You won't, Dina, you won't." I hear the underlying emotion in his tone.

With that, we end the call, and I let his words sink in.

_Life goes on, even when we don't want it to._

# A New Year

My first Christmas without them sucked. Maggie and I went back to Emerald Isle for the holidays. First, we dealt with a sendoff for Harrison and his fourth deployment. Then the family dinner with the Lawson family, something we used to do regularly with my parents.

With Harrison deployed again, I can't help worrying about him. I hope what people say is true: that life won't give you more than you can handle. If my parents are watching over me, they know I can't lose Harrison, too. If angels are real, I can only pray my parents are keeping him safe for me.

Yesterday, we got back to Charlotte. Maggie wanted to make sure she was here to ring in the New Year with her boy toy for the month, Adam. I don't care where we are. I am ringing in a new beginning, one where my parents are still gone. Feeling like I do, there isn't as much for me to be excited about.

Maggie walks into our living room, distracting me from my thoughts.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" she asks happily. "Callen offered to let you sleep in his bed. You can drink without worrying about a ride home."

"No thanks, Maggie. I don't know Callen. I wouldn't be comfortable. That was sweet for him to offer, though."

Her face instantly drops, happiness shattered and frustration now encompassing her features.

With a half-grin, she adds, "Well, if you come out tonight, you can meet him. He's Adam's roommate." She props her hand on her hip, all excitement for the night back in full force. "And he's hot. It'll be fun and a total change of pace for you. Come on," she pleads.

"Always the matchmaker." I shake my head. "I seriously doubt Callen would find me much fun. Go and have a good time, Maggie. I'm okay here," I try to reassure her. "I love you to pieces. Now, go see your man and start your New Year right."

I want her to be happy. I just can't think of dating, or doing anything, really. It doesn't feel right. Nothing does.

After Maggie leaves, I step out onto our balcony, suddenly feeling trapped by my confines, physically and emotionally. We live on a third floor apartment. The view is nothing to brag about, but it's something.

I look out at the twinkly, starry sky where fireworks are on display in the distance. It's almost time to ring in the New Year. _A time for new beginnings_ , my mom would always say. _Oh, Momma, how do I start a new year without you?_

I sigh into the night air.

When I first moved to Charlotte for college, Momma said, _"Dina, if you get lonely, look up at the sky. Study the clouds, study the stars, and know, no matter the distance, I'm looking at the same sky as you. I see the same clouds, the same stars, and I'm thinking of you. We're together, connected always."_

"Well, Momma," I tell the air around me, "I'm lonely. I'm looking at the stars. Can you see the same ones, Momma? Are you really watching over me? People say it, you said it, I can only hope it's true. Are you still with me? Is the connection the same?"

I close my eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely. For the first time since their deaths, I find consolation.

Coping, I'm not good at it. Moving on, I can't fathom it. This isn't how things are supposed to be.

College was a chance for me and Maggie to experience life, and then go home and start our business together, planning parties. My mom and dad were supposed to smile proudly as I crossed the stage to get my degree. There would have been a big party, and life would go on as the happy family we were.

How can life go on without them?

More fireworks pop in the distance, bringing me out of my state of solace.

Looking inside the apartment, I take a glance at the clock that announces the arrival of the New Year. This is the year I learn to live again... without my parents.

# What's the harm?

January fades into February. I'm going through the motions physically. Emotionally, though, I feel a little better, a little stronger. I'm lost and broken, but I have a will to go on. Harrison is right; life keeps moving, even when we try to stand still.

No one calls or comes by anymore... well, outside of Maggie, Harrison, and their family. My friends didn't know how to help me, and they certainly didn't know how to deal with me. As a result, everyone is gone now.

It's okay. People come into your life for a reason; some for a small moment, some for a season, and some, a precious few, somehow stay for a lifetime.

Maggie is a lifelong friend. This I know.

Maggie's parents will visit again soon. Harrison emails me when he can. And I stay true to my commitment and email him daily. Corey, Maggie's other brother, is busy with his life in Raleigh, but he does check in from time to time.

Funny, I'm beginning to feel ready to go out. Maggie seems to have given up on me, though. Since New Year's Eve, she hasn't pestered me to meet someone or go out with her. She really hasn't invited me out for much of anything. Although I think I may be ready to hang out again, the lack of pressure from her is a welcomed reprieve.

Not in the mood to cook, I decide to head out to the café down the street.

When I arrive, it's quiet, with only a few patrons occupying the space.

After I order my food and drink, I look around and have a realization.

Even surrounded by people, I have been as empty and alone as this café.

Lost in thought, I'm not paying attention when I turn to walk away from the counter, halted by a rock-hard, masculine chest before I take more than three steps. Smashing into him, I spill my drink on both of us. Immediately, two hands grip my waist to steady me.

"Oh my... I'm sorry," I stammer, flustered and embarrassed.

He gently pulls back, his hands still on my waist. "It's okay."

I begin to juggle my bag of food and clean up my spilled drink. Then I pull out a napkin and start to wipe his shirt.

At my touch, his muscles twitch. He clearly works out.

A spark ignites inside me. I feel something for the first time since my parents' deaths. Nervous energy now courses through my veins at a rapid pace, and I tremble slightly. Ice blue eyes meet mine and I freeze. His chiseled jaw softens and lips tip into a half smile. Blond hair is cut short but styled to make his face stand out.

The stranger places his hand on top of mine to still me from continuing my failed attempts to clean us both up.

"Have dinner with me?" he asks.

I'm in shock.

"Um... I wasn't planning to dine in."

"Come on. What's the harm in sitting down for a few minutes to eat with me?" He raises an eyebrow. "No harm, baby. I'm simply trying to get to know the beautiful woman who just ruined my favorite shirt."

I gasp. I ruined his favorite shirt? Oh, no.

He extends a hand to me, "Michael Rivers." I take his hand and shake it feeling a zing zip through me, "Dina Fowler," I reply.

"Just dinner, keep me company for the time it takes for my shirt to dry." He smiles and I melt.

"Okay," my reply is whispered.

I concede to him because I do feel bad about the shirt and because maybe company tonight won't be a bad idea.

Settling in a corner booth while he goes to get his meal, I feel excitement for the first time in a long while.

What's the harm in making a new friend?

# Taking a Chance

A chance dinner with Michael has brought me back to the land of the living. Maybe it's time, maybe I'm finally ready, or maybe it's destiny. Or, maybe it's because he didn't know me before my parents' death. It gives us a fresh start. I'm not sure. All I do know is that what I feel right now is nice, I have smiled for the first time in a year, and there are butterflies in my belly at the thought of seeing him again.

My silent plea to not being alone has been answered.

In the last two weeks, Michael and I have talked daily. Conversation flows freely between us. It's refreshing to be so comfortable around someone.

Is it the newness of it all that has me so giddy? Or is the connection we share that strong?

When I talk about my parents, it doesn't faze him like most people. He doesn't tell me he's sorry. He doesn't sit there, silently waiting for me to fall apart. He simply says, _"Dina, I can't imagine that level of loss."_

Let's be real. No one can. Until you feel it, you can't remotely understand it.

Tonight, Michael and I have a date. He's taking me to dinner and a movie.

Nervous anticipation courses through me. It's been so long since I have allowed myself to feel anything other than sadness and despair. I'm not sure what to do with myself. All these flutters and smiles are hard to settle.

Thinking of Michael instinctively brings on happy feelings, an involuntary reaction that shows on my face. Talking to him brings a comfort that's long been missing.

Truth be told, I have never had this comfort from anyone but my family and Maggie's. Sure, I have dated guys. Maggie and I both had fun giving the guys a run for their money in high school. We weren't wild, per say—our dads wouldn't have allowed it—but we definitely weren't the type to settle down. We didn't plan our futures based on being with a man.

Before the accident, it was great being away at school. Maggie and I were no longer under the watchful eye of our biker dads. My dad, Rocky, was an original with the Hellions Motorcycle Club, and Maggie's dad patched in not long after they moved to the coast.

Anytime either of us went out, both our dads rallied together with their shotguns on the porch beside them. It was so embarrassing. It used to annoy the shit out of us both. Now, I can only sit here and wish my dad was still around to screen the guys for me. His mere presence was intimidating.

My dad wasn't an overly tall man, but he was built and tattooed. He was also confident and fiercely protective. There was no doubt in my mind that, if a boy messed with me, my dad would handle it.

What would he think of Michael? Would he approve? My dad was perceptive. Are there things I'm missing? It's all overwhelming. He's been a gentleman so far.

_Oh, Daddy, I'm happy,_ I think to myself.

The despair is creeping up into my heart and head once again. I can't do this. I need to cancel. There is no way I can go out. No one is here to watch out for me like my dad did. How can I trust what I feel?

I don't know how to balance living and them dying. I want to go out, but it scares me. Living scares me. I am completely torn up about how to push myself and not crumble under the pressure.

A knock at the door alerts me to the time. Dammit, I was daydreaming too long and now he's here.

I make it out of my room to find Maggie with a baseball bat in her hand, directing Michael toward the couch.

"Sit. Let's chat, Michael," she commands while I stand in my doorway to observe.

"Hello, you must be Maggie," Michael says, extending his hand in greeting.

"No." Maggie shakes her head. "We're not friends, son. We aren't even acquaintances," she begins in her version of a stern voice. "We're here because you want to take my girl out."

Michael nods in agreement, going along, but with an amused look on his face. I'm struggling to stifle my own laughter as I watch my best friend attempt to play the role of our dads' as she pats the bat into one hand for emphasis.

"Dina is precious. She's to be valued and treasured. She's to be treated with the utmost respect, son," Maggie states, continuing on with the same chat our dads gave every guy who ever came to take us out. "If you fuck up, you'll face me. And son, you should know, I'm not afraid to go to prison for the ones I love. You can take her out, but you gotta know and abide by the rules."

Maggie drops her voice into a deep, manly tone. "Number one: she is to be home by midnight. Not twelve o' one, fucker, because twelve o' one constitutes a new day. A new day would mean my precious was with you overnight. Overnight dates aren't allowed. Midnight." She nods her head at Michael, who nods back.

"Number two: you open every door for her. We live in the south, and that's what gentlemen do for ladies. Our Dina is a lady. I'm not a fucking gentleman, so get that straight right fucking now. I will fuck you up if you fail to act like a gentleman with my precious."

Tears well up behind my eyes as Maggie continues to recite word-for-word the speech our dads gave every single one of our dates. I feel my dad with me in this moment.

"Number three: you pay for every damn thing. If my baby girl wants the most expensive lobster on the menu, you pay for it without hesitation. If she doesn't even eat one bite of it, you smile and know it was worth your money just to spend time with her. If she wants to stop at five stores for a specific candy bar that can't be found, you stop at five stores, or even a sixth, if that's what it takes. And you pay."

Maggie lets out a sigh, then tightens her features again. "You take care of my precious. Number four: you don't drop her off. Revert back to rule number two, son—you open every door. That includes the door returning her safely home. Are we clear, fucker?

"I'm not your friend. I'm your worst damn nightmare if you upset Dina. Got it?" Maggie swings the bat to point it at Michael.

I can't stop the laughter. Seeing my very skinny, not at all scary looking, best friend give this speech is hilarious.

When my dad gave it, I would get nervous for the guys on the receiving end. Watching Maggie, it's purely comical.

As I enter the living room, Maggie looks up at me and smiles. "Hey, D, Michael and I have been getting to know each other."

"So I heard. That was, by far, the funniest thing I've ever seen." I start to laugh even harder.

"What? You used to do the same thing when I bring a guy home," she replies innocently. Before I can respond, she cuts her eyes back to Michael. "Okay, so maybe I'm not that intimidating, but if you mess with her, I have two brothers and a dad who will bring a wrath upon you that you'll never see coming. She's my sister. Don't hurt her, and we're good. Fuck up, and the Lawson family will fuck you up."

The next thing I know, Maggie is wrapping me up in a big hug as she whispers in my ear, "He's cute, D. Have fun. I'm so happy for you." Then she takes off to her room, leaving me with a smiling and very handsome Michael.

Even sitting, you can tell he's tall. Then again, most people are compared to my five-foot-four, hourglass frame. He's wearing a black Polo shirt with khaki pants. He's skinny, but not scrawny. His short, straight, blond hair looks like he ran his fingers through it quite a bit on his way over here. It makes me wonder if he's as nervous as I am.

Standing up, he comes over to me and pulls me to him, holding me close.

I instantly relax in his arms, feeling warm, wanted, and safe. Maybe it's me being alone for too long. Maybe it's my heart longing for a connection. Or maybe it's real. Whatever it is I feel with Michael, I feel so much it's like I'm bursting. I want to get to know him; spend time with him. He's attractive and doesn't look at me with the sadness everyone else seems to.

As for first dates, I can't complain about this one. Dinner goes great. The conversation between us flows easily and the movie passes in a blur.

As we make the ride home from downtown, I can't stop the questions in my mind. Do I invite him in? What does he expect? It's been so long since I dated anyone, even for a casual night out. I'm at a loss when it comes to what to do, what to think, or what will come next.

He follows all the rules and has me home with five minutes to spare at the front door.

As I unlock it, I look over my shoulder at him. "Do you want to come inside?"

"I'd love to, but I want to take things slow." He sighs, his face is tight like he's fighting a battle with himself. "There will be more nights for me to come inside."

I smile up at him, thinking he really is too good to be true. We are in college; most guys would not only want to be inside my apartment, but inside me.

The first semester before my parents' accident, I went out all the time. I was a bit wild, Maggie and I together, which meant double trouble. Since the accident, everything has changed.

Michael is refreshing. He's not like the guys I had before. He's being respectful of not only my body, but my emotional needs.

Refreshing.

Reaching up, I gently stroke his cheek with the back of my hand. Then he leans down and, with a featherlike touch, his lips tenderly make contact with mine. The connection sends a pulse from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

This simple kiss breathes new life into my meager existence. I feel alive.

# I Got You

Michael and I have been dating for a few weeks. Things are good. I am focused on school, getting out, and finding a new way to get through the days. My parents are still often on my mind, but I have found things to stay busy. The darkness is still there, the somberness in my existence, but I have hope again. Hope for a light, hope for a happiness.

I grab my overnight bag and purse as a knock comes to my door, letting me know Michael is here.

Opening the door, I grin. Actually. I smile big. He's in front of me in jeans and a T-shirt with his hair shaggy wet from a recent shower.

"Ready, baby?" he asks, and I nod.

We make the trek down the stairs to his car.

Buckling my seatbelt, I look over to him excitedly. "Do I get to find out where we're going yet?"

"Carowinds," he tells me with a smile.

Rollercoasters, they aren't my thing. My parents took me to Disney World when I was five, and I freaked out. The noise, the roaring of the coaster sliding on the tracks, it's overbearing. The heights and climb isn't bad; it's the rapid drops. Speed, I like to drive fast, but I want to be in control. There is no control on a rollercoaster. I'm not big on my fate being in the hands of a man-made machine.

Thrill and rush seekers, adrenaline lovers, the junkies who live for the rides, are all amazing to me, but not who I am. I like to go fast in a car, but to ride something that will turn me upside down and loop, all while I'm holding onto a bar or having a harness keep me in place, it just doesn't sound appealing.

I don't dare kill his excitement, though, so I reach out and give his hand a squeeze, telling him, "Let's do this."

Before I know it, we are parking and entering the theme park that sits on the border of North and South Carolina.

Tramping down my fears, I let Michael lead us to the first ride.

Shit, I feel my anxiety rising.

I exhale deeply. My hands get sweaty, so I let go of Michael's to again hide my fears.

He looks at me, studies my expression, and then wraps an arm around my shoulders. "You okay, baby?"

Do I lie? No.

I blow out a breath. "Michael, you should know, I'm afraid of heights."

With a kiss to my temple, he gives me a squeeze. "We can get out of line."

"I don't want to do that. I want to have fun with you."

"Do you trust me?" he asks, and I feel like this is an important answer.

I nod because I do. He has given me no reason in our time together not to.

"I got you, baby. From beginning to the end of every ride, I'll hold your hand, hold you close, and help you." He is sincere, and I find comfort in that.

Wrapping my arm around his waist, I hold him in a side hug.

"I got you," he says again before pressing his lips to mine. "I promise, baby, I got you."

# Bedtime Confessions

### Four months later...

Michael has the self-control of a saint. We have been dating for four months now and slowly, day by day, I have come to rely on him more and more. He even made the trip home with me to visit my parents' grave on the anniversary of their passing.

In that moment, when we stood at their tombstones, he was my rock, holding me while I cried. It's the only way I could introduce him to them. And it sucked. Another bitter pill to swallow at my loss.

We both decided to spend our summer in Charlotte. I'm not ready to go back to life in my childhood home. It's one thing to visit, since the time is short. With the furniture still the same, I can stay in my room and pretend they are still there. Closing my eyes, I can pretend they are away for the weekend and will return to me soon. However, that's not my reality.

The house will never be the same. It will always be home, but I can't live there. Not when the emotions still suffocate me.

Maggie is spending the summer here, as well. Things are good for her. She recently started dating a guy named Brayden who lives here year-round, so she stayed for him. This is the first truly committed relationship I have seen her in.

In fact, she has spent more time at his place than she has here. I have yet to meet Brayden, but from what Maggie says, he's tame compared to his roommate Ryder, who is "a wild one." She has never seen him with the same girl twice. Hearing about him makes me especially grateful for what I have with Michael.

Most college guys are in it for a quick bang. I'm glad Michael and I share more. As time passes, though, I begin to wish Michael would be in for a bang.

We make-out, but nothing beyond groping and kissing. When I try to take it further, he pulls back, saying it's a timing thing. Once he gets to a certain level of excitement, he claims he won't be able to stop himself, so I better be ready.

He doesn't feel like I'm ready to give him all of me. Dammit, I want him to lose control with me. When he's around, everything stops and I just want him. Doesn't he feel that way, too?

Not only has Michael brought me back to the land of the living, but he's stirred my body back to life, as well. His presence makes me feel again. I have a constant hum in my core, an ache that's begging to be satisfied.

Since we have a dinner date planned tonight, I do my hair in an up-do, hoping that by exposing my neck, Michael will be unable to resist. Going into Maggie's closet, I then find a low-cut, cocktail-length, little black dress to wear.

Tonight, the plan is seduction.

Michael better be ready for me to take all of him. Tonight is important. I can't wait any longer, and I don't know why he wants to. Is it me? Am I too much of a mess? Is he into kinky stuff?

Why the delay?

I can be kinky. I want to make love to the man I love. Tonight will be that night.

The knock at the door alerts me to his arrival. Opening it, I smile sweetly and, for a moment, time stands still as Michael drinks me in.

Feeling a tugging deep in my belly, I confidently reach up and pull him down to kiss me.

He's stiff and unwilling at first, which shakes me. Doesn't he want me?

My insecurities creep in. What's wrong?

I have never been so nervous, so full of self-doubt. Why doesn't he want me? Am I unattractive? Do I look like a woman who is too much trouble? He tells me we are good together, so why won't he take things to the next level?

Before I can finish my thought, he relaxes, taking over and pulling me closer as he devours my mouth.

Dinner plans are forgotten as we stumble into my apartment, tangled in each other. Excitement and adrenaline rush through me with each beat of my frantic heart.

Something has shifted. I feel a change in Michael.

He roams his hands all over my body, squeezing my breasts through my dress. Now my pulse goes into overdrive as his kisses become passion-filled, demanding, and unforgiving. I relish it.

When he dips his head to kiss my neck, I mewl in want and need for him.

On a growl, he effortlessly scoops me up, and I wrap my legs around him as my dress slides up over my ass. I feel his erection grow in his pants and drop my hips, bringing my core where I want it, gently grinding as he walks us back to my bedroom.

Friction. Sweet friction.

"Baby, you ready for this?" He lays me back on my bed. "I'm only going to ask this once, then I'm not stopping," he warns.

I can only bite my bottom lip and nod. Words have left me. Want and need consume me.

Pulling the dress over my head, he frees my breasts. I'm lying in front of him in nothing but a black lace thong and peep-toe heels.

Michael stops and stares at me for a moment. His hesitation has me insecure.

I begin to cover my breasts with my arm when Michael is on me. The onslaught comes fast and hard. He's kissing me with more fervor and fury than I ever knew could be possible. My lips hurt as my body begs for more.

He lowers his head, taking my nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. The combination of pain and pleasure shoots straight to my core. Before he even pulls his mouth off, I'm writhing, wanting more.

He nips his way around my collarbone as he traces his fingers around my inner thigh. Then he pushes my panties aside, tracing my outer lips with his fingers before he spreads them. Circling my clit with his thumb, liquid pools under me, my desire rapidly increasing with my pulse.

He inserts one finger inside me with a slow rock in and out, setting his pace. The sensations of having his body over me, his mouth returning to my breasts, and his finger working me are all blissfully overwhelming.

He adds a second finger as he increases his pace, and the buildup rapidly mounts. I'm so close.

He kisses his way south, reaching the juncture between my legs. The rhythm of his fingers slows as he blows softly on my sex. All of my nerve endings are burning with desire as he comes down and licks me while leisurely continuing to slide his fingers in and out.

I arch, wanting more, and he responds with a nip to my pussy lips in warning to stay in place. Only then does he increase his pace, sucking my clit and sending me over the edge.

Kissing my inner thigh, he hums against me, "Absolutely perfect, Dina. You're amazing."

He kisses his way up my body, every touch only making me hyperaware of every sensation.

When Michael reaches my neck, I expect him to kiss me. Instead, he whispers in my ear, "Are you ready for me, Dina? I won't stop once I start."

Rather than answering in words, I reach down to find the hem of his shirt, tugging harshly to remove it over his head, as he comes down, kissing me.

The taste of myself on his tongue sets me on fire for more. So much more.

I reach between us, fumbling, until I am finally able to unbutton and unzip his pants. He pauses in kissing me to remove them with his boxers. Then he is quickly back over me, settling between my legs and nudging his way inside.

I reach up and put space between us.

"Condom," I pant, "in the nightstand."

"No, Dina." His tone is firm. "You're mine. We do this raw."

"I'm not on birth control right now. I'll get on it, and then you can go bare. Please, Michael, for now?" I plead, not needing an unexpected pregnancy.

Sighing in frustration, he reaches toward the nightstand to get a condom. Once he's covered, he's back over me.

"Only until you're on birth control. Then, no more. I don't want anything between us, Dina."

Before I can respond, he licks the sweet spot behind my ear and slides inside me. I moan in pleasure.

Raising my hips, I aim to pick up the pace.

"So tight," he groans. "I fucking love this tight pussy."

He begins to move slowly and tenderly. Instinctively, my body clenches around him, relishing the feeling of our joined bodies. He feels good as he slides in and out of me. Then his tempo increases, and the world stops around us.

"Get ready, baby. Get there, Dina," he growls, letting me know he's just as worked up as me.

He reaches between us and circles my clit, sending me soaring into my own orgasm. He moans, reaching his pinnacle, then lies over me, still inside. I feel him pulse as he kisses me softly.

He gradually pulls out then goes to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean up. When he comes back to bed, he pulls me close, my back to his front. Then he nuzzles my neck.

It's a good thing I wasn't really hungry for food, since he's apparently ready to sleep.

Just as I begin to drift off, I hear him whisper, "You're mine now, Dina. No one else can have you. I love you, and you are mine."

Smiling to myself at his confession of love and devotion, I fall fast asleep.

# Short-Lived

After our first time, I thought would be... I don't know, something different after waking up with Michael. I have never felt so at peace or so comfortable in my own skin than when I am with him.

This glorious man wants me, claimed me, and loves me. After going from feeling so alone to someone wanting me all to himself, who wouldn't be happy?

Only, I find myself wondering: why me? It's a mess of insecurity and emotions that keep me in my own head.

The morning-after euphoria is short-lived. I'm not naive enough to believe we won't have challenges, but sometimes I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, as the saying goes.

Trying not to borrow trouble, I cast my negative feelings aside and snuggle closer to my man. He's the only man I have gone to bed with and woke up with the next morning.

"Dina, get off me; you're hot," he grumbles.

I let the sting of rejection settle in my belly. Then I get up, forcing myself to go about my day. Around ten, Michael wakes up and, with a quick kiss, leaves me. It's like nothing happened.

How can he make my soul, my mind, and my body feel again, just to be so... so... nonchalant?

I thought this would be different. We are in love. How can I wake up the morning after and feel like I did something wrong?

Emptiness, it's a feeling I'm far too familiar with.

This isn't how I saw things going for us.

Little black dress, be damned.

Two days later, Michael sends flowers.

Picking up my phone, I call him.

"Hey, beautiful," he answers.

"Beautiful is the flowers in front of me." I sigh. This man confuses me.

"I've been a real jerk. I just..." He sighs. "I don't know, but I wanna see you tonight and tell you where my head is."

"Okay," I say the word slowly as my fears creep in. Is he going to break up with me? Am I that bad in bed? What went wrong?

"See you around seven. I get off work at six thirty."

"See you then," I say, fighting back tears.

The day passes in a blur, and before I know it, he's at the door.

Opening it, I'm blown away when he steps inside and plants a firm kiss to my lips.

"I love you," he says with passion. "I don't know how to deal with the way I feel for you. No woman has made me feel as special and given me their time and attention like you."

I smile, feeling blissfully happy to be in this place with him.

"I love you, Michael."

"Baby," he groans, kissing me while backing me up all the way to my bedroom. "Gonna show you how much I love you."

And show me he does.

Michael and I have been together six months now. We are settling easily into each other's lives, practically inseparable. The only time we aren't together is when we have class or Michael has to work.

His sexual appetite is insatiable. Having him in my bed nightly now is practically a requirement. He still has his own place, but he spends most of his time here. Most nights, I go to bed after an orgasm and wake up to start my day with another one. I have no stamina. He could have sex all night long, round after round, while I need sleep.

Maybe some time at the gym will help with that, and my other problems.

The other night, Michael pinched my thighs, saying, "It looks like the freshman fifteen waited to catch up to you."

His simple statement awakened me to my poor eating habits and lack of exercise outside of our bedroom activities. My clothes don't fit me any differently from when we started dating, but maybe my muscle tone isn't what it once was. The more I think on it, the more I realize I do need to go back to the gym.

Hopefully, Maggie will want to go with me. I miss my best friend. To have this special time together for us would be good. I don't see her much anymore since Michael doesn't like us hanging out. He tolerates it, but we had an argument about it last week.

_"You're choosing her over me!" Michael screams, storming out of my apartment. He's the one who showed up unannounced, expecting me to go to dinner with him, when Maggie and I already ate. He was supposed to be working late._

I ruined his surprise for me when I told him I wasn't hungry. This got worse when I explained he could stay but Maggie and I were halfway into a movie already. It wasn't about him versus her, yet he took it that way.

Since his time with me is limited by his school—a communications major—and work schedule, he likes to be alone with me when we are together. Even if Maggie is home when Michael is here, we stay in my bedroom. He feels like Maggie is too boy crazy and unfocused. He doesn't want her immaturity to rub off on me.

Maybe I have shown her to him in the wrong light. Yes, Maggie is wild compared to me, but she's fine and doesn't hold back. I miss the times we had before my parents died, when I didn't have a care in the world. I had to grow up, while Maggie maybe isn't there yet. I don't know. Regardless, Maggie has been with me through thick and thin. She has felt every bit of my pain.

And Michael is wrong about Maggie. She's not boy crazy. No, she's Brayden crazy, and I'm happy for her. She's blissfully in love. Through the lack of attention I have given her, she hasn't even noticed, too wrapped up in her boyfriend, as I am mine.

I just wish Michael would get to know her better. Then he could see she's my rock. I told him my past; how her family has been such a support system. I don't think he sees it since we don't all hang out together. Michael just doesn't understand.

He wants to be my rock. That's why he cares so much about what I do and who I associate with. He wants to be the one to be there for me.

It's hard for me, being stuck.

I miss my best friend, and I love my boyfriend.

Michael is all about our future, while Maggie and I will eventually go our separate ways. It's bound to happen. She and Brayden are already serious, as are Michael and I. One day, probably sooner than I would like, she will leave me to go on with her relationship with Brayden. Michael doesn't want me to be hurt and alone when that happens. He wants to be my comforter, protector, and go-to person for all things. Knowing this, I fall in love with him even more.

Still, I have allowed things with Maggie to slip and the void between us keeps growing. If we could start going to the gym together, maybe we could get some of our bond back. Maybe this will show Michael that she's not a bad influence. He can see how focused she and I can be together when achieving a goal. Then he can see Maggie won't take me from him. I can have time with my best friend and work away my _jiggles_ as he calls them.

In fact, that's my new nickname from Michael—Jiggles. At first, I didn't know what to think. What woman wants to be called Jiggles? Now, however, I find it to be a cute endearment.

Sometimes I'm slow to see where Michael is coming from. He's not putting me down, like I took it originally. He cares that I take care of my body. It's this love he has for me, and this is one small way he shows it.

Michael's parents divorced when he was younger. His dad left and never looked back. He says it's because his mom didn't keep his dad satisfied. According to Michael, his mom lost the best thing that ever happened to her when his dad left. She didn't make his dad a priority. If I want Michael to stay, he has to be my priority. I don't want to lose him.

Looking over his schedule, I see where I can work in some gym time without missing time with him.

Being with Michael centers me. I feel driven to please him and make this work. The void I felt before he came into my life is not a feeling I want to have again.

I won't survive another loss. If it means my every waking moment is spent with Michael, about Michael, or for Michael, then so be it. I need him in my life.

# Problem

Maggie and I are having a rare girls' night in. We are in our pajamas, watching a movie, when my phone rings. The screen shows Michael calling. He's been sick, so I answer, worried.

"Hey, baby," I answer with concern in my tone.

"Where the fuck are you?" he barks into the phone, immediately putting me on edge.

I pause momentarily stunned. "I'm at home, watching a movie with Maggie. What's your problem?" I ask, not understanding his anger.

"My problem? My fucking problem, since you're too dumb to figure it out, is I'm sick! My selfish, bitch-ass of a girlfriend is whoring around with her slut friend instead of taking care of me."

Not wanting Maggie to hear his obscenities, I hop up off the couch and retreat quickly to my bedroom.

Trying to keep my tears at bay, I reply, "Michael, do you want me to come over? Earlier, you said to stay home and you would see me tomorrow. I don't appreciate the things you're saying! I'm not a whore, and I would never cheat on you. I love you."

"Ha," he huffs into the phone. "Funny way you show it. I'm running a hundred and two fever and you're sittin' back with your friend probably thinking about who you wish you could fuck."

"Maggie is in a committed relationship, too. We are just two friends catching up. If you want me at your house with you, just say so." I pinch the bridge of my nose as my stress builds higher and higher.

"You don't give two shits about me. If you did, I wouldn't have to ask. Your priority is with that cunt you live with and not me. She doesn't care about you like I do. She's going to leave your ass, and then you'll be crying to me. You have no family. You have nothing. No one cares about you except me."

"Michael, stop being so mean. Please. I'll come over and make it up to you," I plead.

"You are one stupid bitch if you think you mean more to your precious Maggie than the dick she's sucking and fucking. I bet you're at his house right now. Did I interrupt you from sucking off her boyfriend's roommate?"

I've never even met Brayden's roommate so why is Michael even bringing this up? "Michael, where is this coming from? I don't understand." I start to cry, unable to stop the tears.

"Where is this coming from? Damn, you really are clueless. Look around you, Dina. No one is here but me. Maggie pities you for who you once were. She's waiting for her time to fade out. Yet, you're so far up her ass you don't realize she's already fazing you out. She is more important to you than me. That's why you're there and not here. You would do anything for her, and not me."

Sobbing now, I reply as the grief continues to assault me, "Yes, I would do anything for her. She's my family. I would do anything for you, too."

His harsh laughter cuts me off. "Family? You have no family. You're damn lucky I stick around. Do you really think any man would put up with your whining? You're used goods, Dina. How many were there before me? Wait, I don't want to know. You'll have some excuse for that, too. _Poor Dina, the orphan. Poor Dina doesn't know what to do_ ," he mocks. "Look in the mirror! You won't get anyone better than me. Your Maggie, who you have on such a pedestal, thinks of you as an afterthought in her life. You're her convenient companion."

Crying hysterically now, lost in the truth that lies just behind his words, my body shudders. "Michael, please... You mean so much to me. I don't want to fight. I-I love you."

I have never been a confrontational person. It's not in my makeup.

I feel so torn between Michael and Maggie. I can't lose either of them, but I can't seem to hold on to both of them, either.

He's right, though. Maggie and I do have a distance between us. My other friends are gone. My family is gone. Without Michael, I'm no one's priority. I'm barely anything to anyone. I don't want to lose what I have with him.

Since Michael came into my life, I don't wallow in my loss the same way. Where I used to be able to call my mom with anything, I call Michael now. He's filled my life and kept me from staying wrapped up in myself.

"If you loved me," his voice suddenly calm, "you'd be here with me."

"I'm leaving now. I'll be right there. I'm sorry I didn't put you first and think ahead, coming to you without you having to ask."

My apologies mean nothing without actions, so I pack a quick bag, say goodbye to a stunned Maggie, and head out. I don't have time to explain it to her right now. Michael needs to see he's my priority.

As soon as I arrive at his house, he acts as if nothing happened.

Insecurities tramp down my ability to confront him about his hurtful words. Instead, I internalize my emotions and carry on. I don't want to risk upsetting him more. I don't want to push him away.

Keep carrying on; it's what I do.

Is this what my future holds? Walking on eggshells, waiting for the next time I don't read Michael's mind?

I'm so confused. I love this man. When he's good, he's good. He does all the right things: opens doors, pays for our dates, spends time with me, talking, listening, and so much more. He can be kind when he wants to, yet he makes remarks daily, giving me little put downs to remind me of my shortcomings. It's always in a passive-aggressive way. I know I'm not perfect, but I never realized how flawed I am until Michael.

I spend four days missing classes and staying with him until he is well enough to get back to his own routine. Every meal, I serve to him in his bed. Every shower, I take with him, washing him from the top of his head down to his damned feet. I hate feet. But, for Michael, I even cut his toenails. The whole situation is so messed up.

On one hand, I want to be there for him and give everything to him. On the other, I feel taken advantage of.

For four days, I feel like he is the master and I am the slave.

# It Begins

Michael really doesn't want me to hang out with Maggie anymore. If he had his way, we would live together and Maggie would be a part of my past. I can't do that to her or myself.

In fact, he feels like the next logical step in our relationship is to live together. I told him he could move in with Maggie and me. He declined, saying he's not going to be the third wheel to my co-dependency to Maggie. Michael feels that losing my parents should have taught me independence, but instead, I depend on the Lawson family.

Maybe I do. Regardless, I can't turn my back on Maggie.

When I know she is okay and moving on to the next part of her life, then I will move in with Michael. He may be angry with me, but I just have to deal with his disappointment and pray he will see reason sooner rather than later.

Maggie has been begging me to go out to dinner with her and Brayden, as a double date. They are pretty serious, yet I haven't spent time with him. What a horrible friend I have been. And not just with her, but her entire family.

I have only checked the box, so to speak, with her and Harrison. The simple hellos, the quick chats in passing, sending an email to Harrison to keep him updated. The people closest to me don't even get attention from me. Everything is Michael. I know he needs to be a priority, but I have lost touch with where I came from and who I am.

I feel lost. I can't look in the mirror and see myself anymore. It's like I'm Dina, Michael's girlfriend, not Dina Fowler, friend, student, and dreamer.

I know so little of Brayden, other than he goes to school and has a roommate named Ryder. This is a man Maggie talks about marrying, yet I don't know what he thinks about the future.

I have tried to tell myself she's on cloud nine with him so I should float with her. Then I feel the loss of my best friend—the late night talks we used to have and going out together on double dates.

Knowing Michael and Maggie aren't overly friendly with each other, even after all this time together, I make a decision. I don't tell Michael about dinner.

Maggie says she's not comfortable around Michael. I can't say I blame her. Every time the two of them are in a room together, he glares at her or makes fun of her. It's not funny, but I don't know what to do about it. Maggie is to the point she leaves before Michael comes over to avoid any issues.

She tries to give me space because he makes me happy, but she is really worried about me being with him. I think she's just being overly cautious because she cares about me.

I'm tense as I arrive at the restaurant. It's been so long since I casually spent time with anyone other than Maggie or Michael that I don't know how to act. I keep looking around, knowing what I'm doing is wrong.

They are at a table already, and I quickly find myself settling in. I even relax and forget I shouldn't be here for a brief moment.

Brayden is great, and Maggie is the happiest I have ever seen her.

We finish our meal and dessert is coming when my body instantly seems to ignite. Looking around, I see the most gorgeous man walking toward us. He has a girl with him, but I'm so drawn to him I don't notice her at first. He's tall, built, and has dark, spikey hair. I can't stop staring at him.

He strides directly to our table and fist pounds Brayden. Then he looks at me.

"Well, hello, beautiful. You must be Dina, Maggie's roommate." He extends his hand to me. "I'm Ryder Davenport. It's nice to finally meet you."

I stick my hand out to shake his, and electricity zaps through me at the contact.

"I'm Dina, Dina Fowler."

Before I can say anything more, I feel eyes on me. Eyes I know.

My veins run cold in fear. I know he's angry. I did this. I knew he wouldn't like it. This goes against what he wants from me.

In a split second, Michael has his hands wrapped in my very long, blonde hair. Using its connection to my head, he yanks me out of the chair.

The look in Michael's eyes is pure sinister venom. Poisonous anger radiates off the man I love.

"You deviant, little bitch," he whispers in my ear. "I'm your priority, yet you're out having a good time without me?"

Ryder steps in, and Maggie jumps up. Before they can make a scene, however, I put my hand up as I fight back tears.

"It's okay. We have to leave," I say sternly.

Maggie has a pained expression, watching me as Michael releases my hair and grabs my wrist, leading me away in a painfully tight grip that makes me stumble as I try to keep up with his pace.

As we walk out, I hear Ryder call out, "Dina, don't go with him!"

I can hear Maggie sob as she cries, but I can't stop myself. I want away from it all. I don't want an audience as my delicately balanced life falls apart. There is no way Maggie will be okay with me continuing to see Michael. I love him. She won't understand I'm the one who messed up.

Michael drives me home, screaming obscenities at me the entire way. I'm a whore. I'm cheating on him. I'm lying to him. How can I make such a fool of him?

I deserve this.

I'm his whore. I don't want to feel this way. When he calls me one, though, and I think of what we have done, I can't help feeling dirty. Any way he's wanted me, he's had me, regardless of my comfort level.

I'm not cheating on him, but giving time to Maggie might as well be the same.

I did lie by omission when I didn't tell him my plans.

I did make a fool of him.

I should have bailed on Maggie. I should have told him where I was going. I went behind his back, and I deserve his anger, his rage.

Confined to the car, I have nowhere to escape when he suddenly backhands me across the face.

The air hits my skin, and I feel the tears pool behind my eyes.

He hit me.

The swish of his hand is heard before I feel the second strike.

Surprise, stunning realization of pain, and humiliation consume me.

Where did it all go so terribly wrong?

Trapped.

Terrified.

Tortured as hit after hit comes like the dashed yellow lines of the road. It keeps coming.

He continues to backhand me repeatedly. I feel my eye swell and blood trickles from my nose. As I bite my lip to choke back a yelp, I taste the metallic of my blood.

I want to scream, but there's no one to hear me. I want to open the door and fall out of the car, but I can't move. Shock is winning the war inside me.

As quickly as he starts, he stops. Pulling up in front of my apartment, he opens the car door, waiting for me to get out, not speaking.

I make one step away as he rounds the car to get back in. He pulls off, squealing tires down the road.

I reach my apartment and crumple to the floor in agony.

Does this mean it's over? Is he leaving me for good? What the hell just happened?

He's never reacted this way before.

I can't think clearly. I can't see clearly. It's all a loss. It's a hell like no other.

I know things aren't perfect, but I love him. My selfish need to feel like I'm part of Maggie's life caused this. Michael was right; she's moving on with her life. She has a good thing with Brayden. I see the love they share. Maggie is a lot calmer and so much happier since him.

Michael is all I have left. Now I have messed up, and he's angry. Will he forgive me?

I have to find a way to fix things with him.

I caused this and deserve to feel this hopeless.

Brayden and Maggie arrive home not far behind me, but there was enough of a delay to get Michael gone, which saves me more stress right now.

Michael really left me.

Brayden takes one look at me and roars. "Maggie, lock the door. You do not open it for anyone. Dina, I swear, we're gonna fuck him up!" Then he takes off, and I'm left hoping he doesn't find Michael.

This isn't anyone else's business or problem. They don't realize it's on me. His reaction is because of my actions.

Maggie cleans me up and holds me silently while I cry. The embarrassment is too much.

"I don't know what to do to take the pain away," she finally whispers.

What can I say? She's happy and in love. She won't understand my relationship with Michael. She won't understand the way he is with me when we are in a good place. The way he simply gets me.

Our love is special. Michael brought me out of the dark. He gave me something and someone to believe in again. He's everything I have left to hold on to. He's not a part of my past. He is my future. The good outweighs the bad.

Every relationship has its problems. Ours is no different.

# Waking up is hell

The next morning when I wake up, my body feels exhausted. My face hurts. A deep ache down to the bone kind of pain.

Not thinking, I make my way to the kitchen where Maggie sits at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee and waiting.

Waiting for me.

"Dina." Her voice trembles. "What the hell is wrong with him?"

I immediately want to crawl into a ball.

"It's my fault. I didn't tell him where I was going." I blow out a breath, fighting back my tears. "Not gonna tell you something you don't already know. He doesn't like you, Maggie. You don't feel comfortable around him. I wanted time with you. It came at a price."

She rises and comes over to me. "This. Is. Not. Your. Fault," she says, wrapping me in a firm embrace.

"H-he didn't mean to," I stammer. "He's never done this before. I-I should have invited him, told him, explained it to him. I was being selfish, wanting my time with you."

She pulls back and looks me dead in the eye. "Dina, _nothing_ justifies this. Nothing." She looks over my injuries. "He made you bleed. He left bruises." She holds my hand. "Please, just think about how wrong this is."

I say nothing. She doesn't understand.

Instead, I retreat to my room and spend the day locked up by myself.

Michael doesn't call.

The silence is maddening. I just want to make this right.

Two days pass without even a text message from Michael. I miss school, staying in my room, wishing Michael would call me back. I called, even stopped by his house. He wouldn't answer.

Hopeless.

Helpless.

Hurt.

I feel them all.

Anguish washes over me when I realize I had something to build on and it slipped through my fingers. How do I pick up the pieces?

There is a knock at my door. Opening it, I find Michael standing there with flowers, chocolates, and a movie.

"I'm sorry, Dina." Those are his first words, causing hot tears to stream down my face.

"I'm sorry, too."

When he steps inside and presses his lips softly to mine, I'm lost in our love once again.

# Love is Blind

### Two Months Later...

Since that night, Michael has showered me with gifts and attention. Things are far from perfect, but he's with me. He loves me.

We have been together for long enough that I know what he wants, needs, and expects from me. When I fail, I deserve to be punished. This has taught me to think before I make the same mistakes twice.

Michael doesn't want to hurt me. He doesn't mean to lash out. He just wants me to learn and know better. To make me better for him. The last few months have been hard, but it's my own doing. I know his triggers.

Well, most of the time.

I want to make it up to him. We have had sex and spent time together over the last few months, but I still feel like things are rocky. It's like I'm always waiting for something to go wrong. Therefore, I want to make tonight about him, about us. He will be here shortly for dinner.

He usually likes the color green on me. As I put on the silk green bra and panty set with garters and stockings, I anticipate a night to reconnect with the man I love.

Lighting the candles throughout my room, I wait. Maggie is staying with Brayden tonight, so it's just me and Michael.

With the key I recently gave him, he enters my apartment, while I stand in the doorway of my bedroom, waiting.

"What the hell is this?" he asks, abruptly stopping in the hallway and staring.

Taken aback by his attitude, I remain silent.

"Dina, what the hell is this? You dirty little whore, you want dick?" He grabs his crotch. "Is this because you don't get my cock enough? Everything is always on your terms!" he shouts at me.

"No, Michael, I just thought—"

"You thought?" he cuts me off. "Who the fuck told you to think? I'll give you my fucking cock when I damn well want to, not because you're a greedy cunt who is trying to seduce me."

Before I can respond, the back of his hand comes across my face. I taste the metallic tang of my blood from the inside of my cheek. Then he grabs me, holding me by my wrist so tightly my hand goes numb from the lack of circulation. Then he backhands me again with his free hand.

The room spins.

My nose is bleeding, and my eyes swell almost completely shut.

Suddenly, he releases me then grabs both my breasts harshly. Yanking the cups of my bra down, he grabs my boob like a cow's utter and pulls while twisting.

It's a searing pain.

His mouth comes down on my shoulder. He bites me, marking me.

"Is this what you want, bitch?" he asks, thrusting his erection at me. "You want my dick? You called me here to get fucked?"

I did. I called him here to fuck me, but not like this.

He shoves me backward, and I fall to my bed. Scared and unsure of what will happen, I become frozen as he tugs my panties, ripping them from my body.

Lost in emotion, lost in rough sensations, and lost in my thoughts of a night going terribly wrong, I cry out when Michael shoves two fingers inside me.

"Dirty girl, likes it rough. I'll give it to you rough," he growls as he stops fingering me to stand back and undress himself. Instantly, he's over me, nudging my legs apart. "Get ready for me, Dina. I'm gonna make it dirty for you."

I want to vomit.

I can't move. I can't speak. I just silently beg for this to be over quickly so I can fix myself. However, my silence and inactivity only presses Michael on more. He wraps his hands around my throat, choking me.

"My fucking bitch," he says as I open and close my mouth, gasping for air.

He slams into me once more before releasing my neck and releasing his hot come inside me.

Hell couldn't be nearly as bad as the eternal scars he just put on my soul tonight.

Michael kisses me, and I don't respond.

"Dina, baby, you wanted this. You asked for it. Dressed like a hooker; what was I supposed to do? You invited me. You wanted to be fucked like a hooker." He dresses himself, casually looking over his shoulder at me. "Gotta go. I have to study, but need you to be okay. This is role play. You get that, right?"

I can't say a word. Is this what I asked for by dressing up? I didn't think this was role playing, not that I have ever done that.

He leaves, and I clean up. My face is tender, and I know I will have to hide bruises from Maggie. Harrison is home from his deployment. If she sees my face, she will call him, and Harrison will kill Michael on principle alone.

No one understands. How can they?

# No Way Out

### One Month Later...

Hell.

Hell is the place you are supposed to fear.

Live your life the right way so you don't burn in Hell. What happens when your hell is lived daily on earth, though?

I'm in hell.

I'm worthless.

Broken.

I don't even know the woman staring back at me in the mirror anymore.

Things have only gotten worse with Michael. Other than going to class, I can't go anywhere. He is my priority. Therefore, I should be home, waiting on him and doing what he needs of me, asks of me, demands of me.

I have tried and tried and tried to be everything for him. And I have failed.

How did I get so lost?

How do I escape?

To make matters worse, Maggie and I have so much tension between us that I don't know if our friendship will survive.

I walk out of my bedroom toward the kitchen, already on edge.

Maggie stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, sipping her coffee.

I don't speak. I don't know what to say.

"You comin' home tonight or staying with him?" she asks with disdain.

"Probably." I don't want to, but I know I have to. The more I'm around Michael and cut off from everyone else, the more I fear messing up. I'm beyond the place of being able to tell him no or put him off.

She slams her mug down and coffee sloshes onto the counter. "Wake the fuck up, D! This isn't love. This is control, manipulation, power."

"Don't," I plead. Everything she's saying is true. It's harsh, and it's embarrassing. More than anything, I don't know what to do to get out of it.

"Love is patient... love is kind—you know all that shit! Where is that with Michael?"

"He loves me in a way you can't understand. No one can," I charge back. In my heart, though, I can't help wondering if I even understand our love, our relationship, anymore.

"You're right, Dina! I don't understand. I _can't_ understand. You don't hurt people you love." She stomps off, and I'm left feeling empty.

Her words play on repeat in my head.

I'm battered, broken, discouraged, lost, alone, but I am not defeated. I refuse to be. Somehow, I will come out of this.

I will not crash and burn.

Full of a newfound resolve, I am determined to talk to Michael. I'm not saying we need to be over, but we need to find more balance. I walk around on edge; that can't be what he wants for me. For someone he loves, he shouldn't want them to be in fear. I know I wouldn't want anyone I love to live like they are walking on eggshells.

Maggie texts me that she is staying with Brayden tonight. This is the perfect opportunity to have Michael over and fix my mess. We had plans to stay at his place, but with Maggie gone, he will happily come here.

I make dinner, chicken and dumplings like my mom used to make. _Oh, Momma, what have I gotten myself into? If you were here, I can't help knowing things would be so different._

Shaking away the thoughts of what could have been, I prepare for my evening.

When Michael arrives, he is tense. The look in his eyes tells me this isn't the night to discuss anything. The fire is there. The evil glare that is my new warning of what's to come. He is almost void of any good emotions. Hatred for me, for life, radiates off him.

The entire night, Maggie is in my head, telling me, _"This isn't love."_

"What the fuck is your problem? I see that look, Dina. You're a smug bitch, aren't you?"

My body immediately tenses, preparing for battle.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Michael." I keep my voice calm and steady.

"Always playing stupid. Yeah, you're a dumbass, but I'm not stupid. You're thinking about someone else. You want someone else here, not me. Too bad. I'm all you'll ever get." He laughs at me. "No one else wants you. Not even your precious Maggie wants to be around. She's always gone. She can't stand you."

The tears freely fall. I am unable to stop them.

"Look at you, hot mess of a woman." He shakes his head.

"Please," I beg.

This infuriates him further. He stands, grabbing me and pulling me out of my chair.

For the first time, he doesn't backhand me. His fist—yes, his fist—comes down on my face. I hear the crack of my nose breaking and feel blood spill out.

He pulls me out of my apartment, and that's the last thing I remember before waking up on the ground floor of my apartment complex, him kicking me in the stomach.

I curl into myself, trying to shield my body. My arm is distorted, and my body cries out in agony. I think I fell down the stairs, but I'm not aware enough of everything to sort out what happened. I'm trembling, sobbing, bleeding, and completely lost.

Suddenly, Michael stops and noises surround me, but I can't see.

Reaching up, I feel my head to find it sticky from my blood. It slides down my forehead and into my eyes. I can't see through the red liquid.

Maggie, I can hear Maggie beside me.

"Brayden's gonna carry you to the car, D."

I hear muffled voices arguing, but I fade fast. I feel myself being lifted, my body screaming in protest as sharp pains shoot through me.

The ride is a blur as I'm in and out of consciousness.

At the hospital, my injuries are treated. I have a mild concussion, a broken nose, broken arm, two cracked ribs, a twisted ankle, and some abrasions. Then again, for falling down three flights of stairs and being beaten, I feel lucky to be alive.

I can only be thankful that Maggie forgot her laptop and happened to come home when she did. Otherwise... Well, I don't know just how bad things would be.

After twenty-four hours of observation, Brayden and Maggie bring me home. I am exhausted, which is felt further by the fact that my home no longer feels like my safe place. In fact, I'm sickened by the memories. There is nowhere else to go, though, so it's time to face the music.

Ryder happens to be waiting for us when we pull up. He greets Brayden first, then gives Maggie a hug.

The man is a stranger in most ways to me, but in his presence, I feel safe. I don't understand it.

His hands are swollen, and blood stains his clothes. From what Maggie told me at the hospital, Ryder found Michael and beat the hell out of him for hurting me.

He reaches out and wraps his arms around me. When I tense at the contact, he releases me, feeling my fear.

Dark eyes meet my stare. "Never again will he come around or hurt you. This I promise. He's not going to call or come by. There are no apologies or gifts this time, Dina. Be safe, be happy, let him go, and start over. I know the shit he's pulled. Maggie has cried countless times for you. This is your chance to be free. You're too beautiful, inside and out, for that bastard."

He gives a chin lift to Brayden then leaves.

Ryder is right; I need to start over. This is not the life I deserve. This is not love. This will not define me. I will pick myself up. I will be restored.

Broken.

Not defeated.

I will not crash and burn at the hands of a man.

I refuse.

# The End

_This is the end of Dina's chapter with Michael. Read on in the_ Love and Repair series _to find out if she can overcome the damage to her heart and the many scars left behind by Michael._

_Ryder has his own path to follow. Will it lead him to Dina?_

Restore My Heart _holds the answers to these questions and gives you more of Brayden and Maggie, who have their own story to share._

Get your copy of Restore My Heart here!

# About the Author

_USA Today_ bestselling author Chelsea Camaron is a small town Carolina girl with a big imagination. She's a wife and mom, chasing her dreams. She writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and romance thrillers. She loves to write about blue-collar men who have real problems with a fictional twist. From mechanics, bikers, oil riggers, smokejumpers, bar owners, and beyond she loves a strong hero who works hard and plays harder.

* * *

Chelsea can be found on social media at:

Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorchelseacamaron

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Email chelseacamaron@gmail.com

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# Also by Chelsea Camaron

**Love and Repair Series:**

Crash and Burn

Restore My Heart

Salvaged

Full Throttle

Beyond Repair

Stalled

_Box Set Available_

* * *

**Hellions Ride Series** :

One Ride

Forever Ride

Merciless Ride

Eternal Ride

Innocent Ride

Simple Ride

Heated Ride

Ride with Me (Hellions MC and Ravage MC Duel with Ryan Michele)

Originals Ride

Final Ride

* * *

**Hellions Ride On Series:**

Hellions Ride On Prequel

Born to It

Bastard in It

Bleed for It

Bold from It

Broken by It

Brazen being It

Better as It

Breathe for It

* * *

**Roughneck Series:**

Maverick

Heath

Lance

Wendol

Reese

* * *

**Devil's Due MC Series:**

Serving My Soldier

Crossover

In The Red

Below The Line

Close The Tab

Day of Reckoning

Paid in Full

Bottom Line

* * *

**Almanza Crime Family Duet**

Cartel Bitch

Cartel Queen

* * *

**Romantic Thriller Series:**

Stay

Seeking Solace: Angelina's Restoration

Reclaiming Me: Fallyn's Revenge

* * *

**Stand Alone Reads:**

**Romance –** Moments in Time Anthology

Mother Trucker

Panty Snatcher

Beer Goggles Anthology - Shenanigans

Santa, Bring Me a Biker!

* * *

**The following series are co-written**

* * *

**The Fire Inside Series:**

(co-written by Theresa Marguerite Hewitt)

Kale

* * *

**Regulators MC Series:**

(co-written by Jessie Lane)

Ice

Hammer

Coal

* * *

**Summer of Sin Series:**

(co-written with Ripp Baker, Daryl Banner, Angelica Chase, MJ Fields, MX King)

Original Sin

* * *

**Caldwell Brothers Series:**

(co-written by USA Today Bestselling Author MJ Fields)

Hendrix

Morrison

Jagger

* * *

**Stand Alone Romance:**

**(** co-written with USA Today Bestselling Author MJ Fields)

Visibly Broken

Use Me

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**Ruthless Rebels MC Series:**

**(** co-written with Ryan Michele)

Shamed

Scorned

Scarred

Schooled

_Box Set Available_

* * *

**Power Chain Series:**

(co-written with Ryan Michele)

Power Chain FREE eBook

PowerHouse

Power Player

Powerless

OverPowered

# Excerpt from Restore My Heart

Copyright _©_ Chelsea Camaron 2013

* * *

_Another Monday_

**_Dina_**

_Three Years Later..._

* * *

There is just something about a strong man with broad shoulders, a few tattoos peeking out from his shirt, and that air of confidence that screams: _I don't care what anyone thinks. I am me_.

Here I sit, in my favorite spot at the local coffee shop, waiting for Maggie to arrive, when in walks the one man who takes my very breath away. The funny thing is, at this point, I haven't spoken more than a handful of words to him.

Three years ago, Ryder Davenport had my back when he didn't have a clue who I was or the hell I got myself into. We met by chance when Maggie started dating his roommate Brayden.

Since the night when I learned a hard lesson that love is pain, a lot of things have changed for us both.

Ryder opened his own garage, and Brayden works for him. They mainly focus on custom Hot Rods, but will work on the occasional maintenance job.

Maggie and I graduated college. It was a big decision whether to stay in Charlotte or head back to the coast. In the end, she's in love with Brayden, so we stayed here.

The Lawson's and the Hellions MC still check in on us and visit regularly, but we have started our event planning business and are doing well. Part of me wonders if we should have returned to the coast to give Roundman and the Hellions a chance to help us.

My dad was an original in the club, but without my parents, it just doesn't feel right to engulf myself in that lifestyle. I want to make my own path and see what I can do without them... and without my parents. It has been a slow process to get back on my feet without them.

Ryder walks to the counter, not noticing me, so I use the moment to take in the sight that is uniquely him. He's in black boots; slightly loose, light denim jeans; and a snug, black T-shirt that not only hints that the man is clearly full of toned, tight muscles, but also sporting some serious ink.

Lost on my own Ryder cloud nine, I totally miss my very best friend joining me.

"Hey, girlie," Maggie says as she sits and begins to sip the caramel latte I have waiting for her, snapping me back to the start of my Monday morning.

Margaret Rose Lawson, my very best friend since freshman year of high school, my sorority sister in college, my business partner and, until recently when she moved in with her boyfriend, my roommate.

Maggie is the girlie one of our duo, the confident one, the outspoken one. She has beautiful, just below the shoulder, jet black hair; dark brown eyes; a golden tan; and a body that is every man's fantasy. Not only is she absolutely gorgeous, but Maggie has a heart of gold and is the most loyal person I know. She is everything I wish I could find in myself again.

Our typical Monday morning routine begins with lattes, followed by a trip to our favorite spa before lunch for a mani-pedi. This has been our every Monday treat since college graduation. We are simply two girls from a tiny coastal North Carolina town who are loving our independence and city life.

Maggie and I own the most popular promotions and event's company in the Charlotte area. She uses her marketing degree to promote and plan events, and I used my business degree and inheritance to start the company and make sure we keep our books straight. It didn't take long before the business was holding its own financially and no longer surviving off my inheritance. We don't consider it work since we get paid to party and promote some great events.

We both have benefited from our talents. Our job doesn't force us to work the typical nine-to-five weekday hours like most, so we choose to start our week with some pampering and girl time.

Here we are now, discussing our Saturday nightclub event review from the bar Whiskey Alibi, when Ryder strides over to our table.

As he stands next to us, I can't help inhaling the scent of Perry Ellis Black mixed with Ryder, creating heaven in my nose. _Oh, dear Ryder, if only you knew what you do to me..._

"Hey, D, how's it going?" he asks me before turning to Maggie. "Hey, Maggie. Is Brayden on his way to work?"

And with those few words, I lose all ability to think, much less speak.

I quickly drop my head and drink my latte while Maggie talks to Ryder.

God, his voice. It's smooth as silk. Ryder has always carried himself confidently. Since starting over after Michael, he has always checked in on me. If Brayden and Maggie are out of town, he stops by.

There isn't a single doubt in my mind, if I need help or anything at all, Ryder will be there for me. I don't know how to explain the connection I feel with him, but it's unlike anything I have ever felt before. Given my mistakes in the past, I struggle to trust myself with anyone.

Day by day, I'm getting stronger. I took to heart what Ryder said to me about starting over. It's taken time, but I finally see a future, a happy one, for myself.

"Brayden was heading in right behind me," Maggie explains with a smile.

One day, I want a love like hers. One where, the moment I think of my partner, I automatically smile.

I feel Ryder's eyes burning into me, and when I look up, sure enough, he is staring right at me. Our eyes meet, and I feel like I can't blink. The way he watches me isn't like he's the hunter and I'm the prey. No, there is a passion inside his eyes that draws me in. The emotions between us are unspoken, but they run deep. Like a kaleidoscope of colors, we share our own mixture of feelings and experiences together.

He suddenly shakes his head to break the trance between us and says to Maggie, "I'm heading in now, myself. Slow go this morning. Catch ya later at the shop." He turns to walk away, then looks over his shoulder at me. "You should stop by sometime, D. Don't be such a stranger."

Before I can do anything more than give a slight nod in agreement, he walks out. It's something he says to me on a regular basis. Brayden, too. They always tell me to come around. They want to include me because Maggie and I are so close. It means a lot. I just have to get myself to that place where I can casually hang out. I gave Michael too much trust and getting back to "normal" is taking me some time.

Just like now, another opportunity wasted. I didn't even manage to stutter a "hello" or "sure." I have to get my shit together and quick.

This is ridiculous. Ryder is a good guy and incredibly handsome. Still, nothing should keep me sitting here like a mute when he's around. It's the way he looks at me, with hunger, desire, and compassion. I can't help wanting to be devoured by him. Yet, I don't trust myself and my decisions. Therefore, I clam up and say nothing.

Maggie just gives a quick giggle and gets right back to our business conversation, never missing a beat.

After a morning of pampering, I head to the gym for my favorite kickboxing class. I'm just finishing up when my phone rings. Looking at the screen, I see it's my bestie.

"I know you don't miss me already, so... what's up?"

Maggie laughs. "I always miss you, babe, but can you please save me from a day at the oil and tire smelling garage by picking me up?"

I can't help laughing at my very girlie friend. "Sure thing. But I'm at the gym and need to shower quickly first."

With thanks, she tells me Brayden wants to work on her car this afternoon while it's slow. We then hang up, and I go take my shower, wondering why she needs a ride when Brayden has a car. Not to mention, he works for Ryder; he could change her oil anytime. Oh well, she will be waiting outside. It's not like I will have to go in and see Ryder. God, he gets me all twisted up.

I pull up in my newest car, a canary yellow Ford Mustang Cobra with black racing stripes and black rims. It's the flashiest car I have had in quite a few years. Growing up with my dad, a master mechanic, I have always had a love and passion for a fast ride. As I have been rebuilding my life, I couldn't resist having this car. She called out to me from the lot.

There was a time when I wanted to blend in, be lost in the crowd to everyone, including myself. The complete opposite of this car. I was skittish, always waiting for _him_ to show up somewhere.

Slowly, in the last three years, after _him_ , I have begun to put the pieces back together. I'm not nearly as carefree as I once was, but I'm breaking free of the ties of my past with each and every passing day.

I park my car, only to have to catch my breath.

It's not Maggie out front, but Ryder, who is talking on his phone. Soon, he will notice me, especially in this car, which means there's no hiding today. I will have to get out.

No turning back now. He's staring right at me. It's time to face him.

I shut the door then look up and watch as he hangs up the phone. Great, we have already established I'm not good at small talk when it comes to him, though there should be a casual flow between us, seeing that our best friends have been dating for what feels like forever. However, whenever Ryder comes around, I can't form a complete thought, too consumed in my Ryder haze.

Dammit.

I muster a tiny bit of control and courage. "Hi, Ryder," I say, releasing the breath I didn't even know I was holding. My inner diva is high-fiving me for the mere fact I spoke to him.

He smiles, and in his oh-so-sexy, deep voice, responds, "Dina, looking amazing, as always."

I keep walking, entering the shop as he holds the front door open for me, managing not to stutter when I say, "Thanks. I'm here to pick up Maggie."

He runs his fingers through his short, spiky dark hair. "Ah, today is turning out to be a really good day. I've seen your beautiful face twice, and now you're saving me from listening to her complain about the lack of organization in my office." I laugh, which prompts him to say, "Oh, that smile could stop a man's heart."

With my five-foot-four, hourglass frame, my golden-brown hair with blonde highlights, hazel eyes, and a slight tan that pales in comparison to Ryder, there is no way to hide my blush from his six-foot-two frame. I know I'm ten shades of red as I think to myself, _no wonder he has so many women dropping their panties for him,_ which reminds me that this is just how Ryder operates.

Over the years, Maggie has told me about Ryder's revolving door of women. He's young, attractive, and hard-working, so I can't imagine he would have any issues dating.

Before I can respond, Maggie approaches us with Brayden, and Ryder turns to walk away, saying, "Seriously, don't be a stranger, D."

Every time he says it, I want to find reasons to hang around, but I never do.

Maggie grabs my hand and guides me out of the garage and back to my car without a chance to think of a reply.

She gets in the passenger seat with a serious face and asks, "Okay, Dina, I've spent way too many years watching you lose all composure around Ryder. When are you going to do something about it?"

My short reply is simple. "I'm not."

Then begins the lecture from hell, the one I have been avoiding for years.

"You know, D, the breakup with Michael was almost three years ago. Stop letting him control you. Get him and all that negative shit out of your head. He took enough away from you in the time you were together. You're strong, you're absolutely gorgeous; it's time to get out there. Don't let him continue to break you anymore."

She starts to cry as she looks me in the eye and continues, "Seeing you with not one ounce of self-worth or confidence is harder for me than wiping the blood off your face, or taking you to the emergency room when that bastard broke your arm, or helping you find makeup to hide all the bruises. Take the inner strength to fight your way out of the dark place he left you in. Find a way to take a chance and be happy." She sighs, fighting her emotions, and I have to close my eyes to keep my own at bay.

"Ryder is a great guy. He has straightened up and turned in his player card. I don't want to watch life pass by my closest friend, and neither would your parents. If they were alive, you and I both know you never would have dated Michael."

I start my car and pull away from the garage, saying nothing, only letting the tears freely fall. What can I say? She's right. But bringing up my parents is too much.

When we arrive at Maggie and Brayden's house, she leaves, telling me, "I love you like the sister I never had. I want to see you find your other half who makes you whole, like I have with B. It's time to face the demons in your head that were left by that asshole. It's time to fill the loss of your family. I'm always here for you. Anytime, day or night."

All I can do is nod and sob as she walks away and into her house.

# Ryder

Brayden and I have been working way too late and living off caffeine more than we should. Making the pit stop for coffee this morning, I ran into Serena working behind the counter. She was pushing her breasts out at me every chance she could as she made our drinks, which is an annoying reminder of how things used to be.

There was a time when I would have told her to take a break and meet me in the bathroom, all because I knew I could start my day with a bang.

Yeah, a quick bang in a public restroom with the barista at the coffee shop. It's easy for me like that. A smile, a wink, and an invitation are all I need to have their panties on the floor and their thigh in my hand as my dick pounds furiously into any of the willing women.

None of that is enough anymore, not since meeting Dina. Meaningless sex is just that—meaningless. The satisfaction and fulfillment are long gone.

With Dina, there is so much more hidden in the depths of her hazel eyes. There is something absolutely sexy about a woman who doesn't realize she's gorgeous. There is strength inside Dina that has kept her going through all the bad that life seems to deal her. She's a woman who has been through so much, yet she doesn't get angry or out of control. No, she simply takes the cards life deals her and keeps moving forward.

In the last few years, I have been there as she finished school, moved on, and rebuilt. She is everything my mother wasn't. Dina has this strength, drive, and passion that I'm not sure she even sees in herself.

Maggie tells me she used to be vibrant and outgoing. I don't know if it's just me or if she's still dealing with her past issues, but she can't seem to speak whenever I'm around. The fear and insecurity still show in her eyes, her features, and the way she carries herself.

I have waited for her to get herself in a better place, not wanting to come in and be a rebound, or mess some shit up and make things harder for her. Maggie shared some stories about Michael coming between her and Dina. I knew she needed time to herself. Michael gave her a head trip that no woman should have to go through.

Part of me wonders if it's me. Do I intimidate her? Am I not her type?

I know I don't match up to the pretty, golf playing boys. Maybe she doesn't like the tattoos. I have seen her car collection, though, and her dad was a mechanic, so I know my job isn't an issue. Then, when I met Maggie's family on a visit, her dad, a biker, said Dina's dad was, too, so I don't think my ink or lifestyle is an issue for her. Then again, maybe it's her way to rebel against what she grew up in.

Even though we have seen each other in passing, we have this strange connection. I don't know Dina well enough, though, not as much as I would like to. Still, she intrigues me. I see her beauty, intelligence, and strength, and I want to know more. Trust. There is this piece of me, deep inside, that craves her trust.

Looking out the lobby door to my garage, I shake off the swirling thoughts as I watch her climb into her car and pull away. Maybe I scare her. Fear is not something I want to draw out of Dina, but given her history—our history—maybe that's the problem. She knows I beat Michael to a bloody pulp and threatened him if he ever dared come near her again. Do I stir up too much of those memories in her?

My agitation grows as I think of her ex. Things with Dina won't be easy. Anything worth having is worth the effort and work to make it mine. That's what my life and my business has taught me.

I don't know why Dina rattles me so much, but I don't intend to let her insecurities, or my own, keep us from seeing what we can be together when the time is right.

Very soon, I'm making my play.

I want a chance. One single chance to show her how good things could be.

Get ready, Dina Fowler, I'm about to show you how a real man treats a woman.

* * *

_The story continues in Restore My Heart (Love and Repair Series 2) available through all major eBook retailers!_

# Excerpt from One Ride

Copyright © Chelsea Camaron 2013

_One Encounter_

* * *

_Shit! This one is going to be a mess to clean up,_ I think to myself.

Pulling up to the clubhouse, I realize today's barbeque is not just for the local Haywood's Landing Hellions, but also for our affiliate charter and chapter clubs. Rather than the usual fifty or so bikers with their families, it's more like two hundred of them here today. It's a sight that most would be intimidated by. For me, it's comfort. It's the safety found in my family. Most of all, it's my home.

Once a year, sometimes twice, my dad invites all of the partnering motorcycle clubs out for a huge barbeque. The Hellion's control all of Coastal North and South Carolina, as well as a few areas in the Piedmont and Appalachian areas of North Carolina. They provide protection, shelter, food, and fun for all affiliate clubs traveling through. The Hellions are respected and run Carolina Country. Some of the clubs we protect passing through our territories are into the more illegal side of motorcycle club life, while others are more of a band of brothers traveling together. Our club walks a fine line in what they do and do not participate in. As a female, I'm sure there is much more that goes on in the club than I will ever be made aware of. Having such a large area to cover, Dad makes sure to show his appreciation for the smaller charters and chapters whenever possible. Times like this are about family and relaxing; business is off the table.

Our thirty-acre compound area is now littered with bikes, trikes, and cars. Burly bikers abound. Ol' ladies and kids are squealing and smiling at every turn. The kids are enjoying the food, games, bounce houses, and pony rides. It's like a mini-freaking-carnival. With all the ol' ladies present, the barflies and hang around whores are at a minimum. Some aren't so bad, but most annoy the shit out of me. They all respect the ol' ladies and wives, though. It's a good thing they know their place, too. My dad doesn't tolerate any disrespect of a claimed woman in his club by anyone, but especially not from a bar-bitch just looking for a night with a Hellion.

Getting out of my car, I smile. My girls are here today, standing on the other side of the lot, waving to me. Savannah Mae and Caroline are my two very best friends, my survival sisters in this crazy lifestyle. Savannah 'Sass' Perchton and I have been best friends from childhood.

Her dad, 'Danza', is a Hellion original, along with my dad, Roundman, their friend, 'Frisco', and the late 'Rocky' Fowler. The four men created the MC as a way to ride together and stay safe thirty-two years ago when they were in their twenties. Rocky and his wife passed away in a car accident a few years back. Their only daughter, Dina, was in college at the time, with no other family. The Lawson family and the Hellions MC have made sure to be a support system for her as much as she will possibly allow. She's the reason Sass and I went to college in Charlotte. Our dads felt it was a good way to keep an eye on us, Dina and Maggie Lawson, another Hellion princess all at the same time. Dina is a couple of years older than us. She's settled in life. She has a great husband and two beautiful daughters. Maggie and Dina both took care of Sass and I while we were in college. Especially the first two years, we were young and had been sheltered so much by growing up in our small town run by the Hellions that college was a wild experience. Dina and Maggie are like older sisters for both of us.

Freshman year, we decided to attempt dorm life. That's where we met Caroline Milton. We lasted one semester in the dorm, before my dad put us in an apartment and we brought Caroline with us. She's the complete opposite of Sass and me. Caroline majored in business, specifically accounting, where Sass and I took an easier path, one not involving so much math, choosing arts and communications.

I stifle a giggle as I realize this is Caroline's first time at a large club event. Of course, she knows that Sass and I have biker Dads, but her schedule has never allowed her to be with us for a party. She's clearly overdressed in her cocktail length, spaghetti strapped dress, and wedge-heeled sandals. The dress isn't overly formal, but its fitted and not the casual feel that these barbeques are meant for. Sass and I are both in jean shorts and tank tops. Denim and leather are safe bets for anything at the clubhouse. A sundress would've been a bit more suitable for her to wear. Although, I don't think Caroline is one to ever dress casually except when cleaning her house or something, and that's a serious maybe. I doubt she even owns a pair of yoga pants.

After college graduation, Caroline stayed in Charlotte. She works with Kenna, one of Dina and Maggie's friends. Sass and I, on the other hand, came back to the coast to work for the Hellions storage business and motorcycle garage. I run the storage office, while Sass is like a "girl Friday", answering phones, doing parts runs and stuff for the bike shop. We share a condo on the beach because at twenty-five, neither of us wanted to live back at home, even though we both know we are never out of the reach of our parents or any of the Hellions. This has been our world for two and half years, living at the beach, while working beside our dads.

Weaving my way through the hordes of bikes towards my friends, I feel at peace, even amongst the chaos. Gazing around me, I admire the many motorcycles in our courtyard, each decked out in chrome and leather. I hug my girls for our typical greeting, as I reach them.

Together, we make our way inside the clubhouse where I nod and wave greetings at my extended family. Taking in the many unfamiliar faces, I smile knowing I'm safe even with these "strangers" around. It's an unspoken code women are protected and cherished in the Hellions. I'm no one's target for trouble here, and it's not because this is our territory; it's because I'm a lady of the Hellions for life, ride until I die.

The affiliates seem to understand who I am, even without introduction. I'm not an ol' lady. There is no cut on my back. I'm not claimed with a property patch. That doesn't mean I'm available either. No, I'm not one to be found riding bitch on anyone's bike. There is only one motorcycle I'm permitted to place my derriere on and those opportunities are few and far between. My dad refuses to let me ride with anyone but him.

I'm not available to guys outside the club either, which suits me just fine. I was born into this life. My heart beats to the same steady tick of a Harley Davidson V-twin engine. I'm Delilah 'Doll' Reklinger. Princess to the Haywood's Hellions MC. Daughter of 'Roundman', Hellion original and Prez for the last thirty two years. I'm the kid sister that each of these badass bikers looks out for. They will gladly kick your ass all because you simply looked at me. I'm a daughter to each and every ol' lady to nurture, love, and treat like one of their own. This is my world, my home, and my happiness.

* * *

Haywood's Hellions' annual barbeque is one of the best parties of the year. Due to business needs, last year we were unable to attend, though. Roundman scheduled the run so our absence was no sign of disrespect for our parent chapter.

This year, we're expected and happy to oblige. When Roundman or any patched Hellion calls, we answer. Each charter may have their own Prez, but we all answer to the Haywood's Hellions and Roundman.

All the charters are represented today, complete with families in tow. The turnout is outstanding for the small town of Haywood's Landing, North Carolina. The compound is located in the boondocks, making functions like these a non-issue for the neighbors.

Taking it all in around us, my crew and I are relaxing, leaning up against the bar when Rex smacks my chest as he tips his beer bottle in the direction of three females. One of them clearly didn't get the message, this is an MC event. She is dressed more for a day of shopping, or a night out at a club, than a barbeque at the clubhouse.

"Those are definitely not hang around hoes," Rex states.

"That's for damn sure. They're walking with class and a whole lot of confidence. None of them are hangin' on a man and no property patches in sight. Aw shit, Rex, fresh pussy for you." I reply, laughing.

Drexel 'Rex' Crews, is my cousin, Vice Prez of my Catawba Hellions chapter, and my lifelong best friend. We are the Piedmont chapter to the Haywood's Hellions, located in Catawba, North Carolina, about an hour outside of Charlotte.

Our moms are sisters who both had us out of wedlock and at a young age. We were taken in by our grandparents and raised more like brothers, and we proudly carry our Grandpa's last name. Only eighteen months apart in age, we are still, and have always been, inseparable. Rex's mom tries, whereas my mom bailed early on. Our grandmother passed when we were eight or nine and our grandfather followed in our teens. Having no one to really care for us, we roamed the streets.

Aunt Jolene, Rex's mom, tried; but she worked so much to provide a house and food for us that there wasn't enough time in the days for her to keep up. Drugs, alcohol, petty theft, and girls were our day to day until a chance meeting with Roundman and his boys at a gas station one day. He set us straight and set us up. We owe everything we have to him.

Rex is a ladies man with little to no standards. His only real boundary is that of an ol' lady. If you don't want Rex to hit on your woman, then you damn sure better claim her. Hang around hoes, sisters, friends, exes, and complete strangers are all fair game in his mind; married or not. As long as it's new pussy, he's happy. There are no encore performances.

_'Hit it, get it, and go. No repeats'_ is the motto Rex lives by.

"That dress is screaming to be plucked off. She needs to be devoured by D-Rex, my brother. She just doesn't know it yet," he says with a snicker as he steps away in the direction of his new conquest.

The brunette in the dress may be what has caught Rex's attention, but my eyes are glued to the long, blonde and straight-haired beauty next to the dress. Her face is round and flawless, her skin smooth like that of a glass doll. She's in a black Harley Davidson tank top and short as sin jean shorts. Damn, this broad is stacked; nice rack, skinny with a plump ass that's screaming to be smacked. I watch as she laughs, carefree, with her friends as Rex joins them.

I begin to approach when I see Roundman walk to her. She hugs him innocently and it dawns on me exactly who she is. That's Roundman's Doll she's off limits. All lust filled thoughts I have are momentarily gone. She isn't just any Hellions princess, she's _the_ Hellion princess. We had to keep an eye on her from afar when she lived in Charlotte.

Rex waves me over after he finishes greeting Roundman with a hand shake, pull into a half-hug, back slap that we men do. I follow suit after my approach.

"Glad to see you and Rex could make it, Tripp." Roundman greets.

"There's no place we'd rather be." I reply, while thinking, ' _Well other than balls deep in your daughter.'_ That's one place I certainly would rather be. Damn, I can't be thinking like this. Roundman would cut my dick off if he knew.

"Tripp, Rex, this is my daughter, Doll, and her friends, Sass and Caroline," Roundman introduces.

That is a quick way to squash my lust filled thoughts, actually hearing the words _my daughter_. Blondie is a doll alright, Roundman's Doll. She's one of a kind, that's for sure. You shelter and protect a beauty like her. She's the kind of doll you treat like fragile china; wrap it up and store it on a shelf for safe keeping. I don't know why we haven't officially met before. Although these events are crowded, one would think we would have met. I've always come here focused on business, so maybe that's why.

These broads are far from fresh pussy, and far beyond off limits. I hope Rex realizes this isn't territory he wants to dip his dick in.

Doll extends her hand to me, bringing me back into the moment. "Doll is what the boys call me. My name is Delilah. This is Savannah, otherwise known as 'Sass', and Caroline, our friend. It's nice to meet you," She greets. As I shake her hand, she stands up on her tiptoes, while tugging on my shoulder to pull me down then she kisses my cheek.

The touch of her soft lips to my skin ignites a fire burning inside of me just under the surface. Her touch sends adrenaline coursing through my body. Before I can respond, there is a harsh voice, snapping me out of it.

"Doll, Sass, Caroline! Asses in the kitchen!"

Looking in the direction of the noise, I see Danza in the kitchen doorway, bellowing for the girls. They giggle as they sashay away. My eyes roam up and down her back side as she goes. Damn, what an ass she's got. It's one of those moments, _I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave_. Fuck me, what a strut! That girl is a heartbreaker with one swish of those luscious hips. _Tame it, Tripp._

"Sass is Danza's daughter. Every time someone gets near our girls, he calls them to the kitchen. Won't see 'em again." Roundman laughs, "Our Hellion princesses are tucked safely away for the rest of the evenin'."

After the girls leave, Rex and I shoot the shit with Roundman for a bit. Outside of sermon times, no business is ever discussed between clubs. Those are Roundman's rules and we are chartered clubs to him. We are Hellions always. Brothers without hesitation. Allies and friends, yes. Business partners, of course. And although, my territory is mine to run Roundman respects his chapter leaders and doesn't impose, but ultimately, I answer to him.
_One Day After_

* * *

Clean up after the barbeque is always a chore. Well, actually, cleaning up after anything with these guys is never a pleasurable experience, regardless of the size of the event. This barbeque is on a much larger scale, though. Danza quickly called us to go in the kitchen yesterday, therefore our drinking and socializing was kept to a minimum. Looking around me, I'm kind of thankful for his overprotective ass. Cleaning this with a hangover would have sucked.

At the time, however, I was slightly irritated. I was introducing myself to this guy named Tripp. Or is he Rex? I don't know, but either way, he is hot as hell.

He's at least six feet two inches tall because he is slightly taller than my dad, who is right at six feet. His dark brown hair was pulled back in a knot on the back of his head, the top grown out and the underneath shaved. His face is one of pure masculinity; a strong jaw line, pronounced nose, and hazel eyes with golden flecks.

It's been way too long since I've been laid because watching his jaw muscle twitch while he was standing there was turning me on. I pulled him down just so I could brush my lips above that spot. His broad shoulders were tight under my delicate hand. Splaying my fingers across them to pull him to me, sent an electric shock through my body. The ink adorning his forearms was detailed and in our brief encounter, I couldn't take it all in, making me wonder what's under his clothing.

Too bad he has shown zero interest in me. His blatant disregard of me has made it clear that my lust filled thoughts are not reciprocated. I'm off limits to him even if he does want me, though. All the Hellions respect my dad too much to ever date me, fuck me, or do more than protect me. Don't get me wrong, I'm close with almost all the boys, they are my older brothers or uncles, but no matter how hard I flirt, they never cross the line. Never am I given a second glance from any of them. I've dated pretty boys, but it quickly fizzles. I need the adrenaline, the chaos, the protection, and the lifestyle.

At least one of us was getting some sort of attention. With the way his friend was looking at Caroline, his attraction and intentions were clear. Caroline was not impressed, however. It takes a lot to get her attention. She has aspirations, a career, and goals far beyond that of a motorcycle club.

My mystery man was more concerned with my father. His patches let me know he's a Catawba Hellion and the Prez at that. Well, that explains why he carries such a serious demeanor. The level of his responsibility is a tough burden to carry. His crew depends on, and trusts, his instincts and instructions. I wish I knew his name, not his roadname "Tripp" or "Rex" but his real name. At least then, in my fantasies, I would know what to call him. My B.O.B (battery operated boyfriend) will just have to settle for being Tripp, or Rex, for now. I like the name Rex better, so Rex it will be.

Looking around me, I shake off my thoughts of the encounter with what's his name to start gathering the trash off the floor and tables of the clubhouse. It's a simple warehouse-style building with an open floor plan. There is a kitchen in the back with four restrooms just off to the side of that. In the vast space of the common area, there is a fully stocked bar, pool tables and darts in one corner, dining tables off in another, and a DJ area with a dance floor in the middle.

There used to be a stage, but it was taken down a few years back. Bikers and rockers together, yeah, this building isn't big enough for the egos. A lead singer decided to openly flirt with an ol' lady, which was a clear sign of disrespect to Frisco, her man. In a moment of jealousy and rage, Frisco jumped on stage and began punching the singer in the head with his own fucking mic. When his band mates tried to pull Frisco off, the brothers stepped in and shit got ugly. My dad finally had to move in and control the situation. The damage was already done, though. The singer ended up with a broken jaw and nose, while the other band members were roughed up but nothing serious. The next day the stage was taken down and no more outsiders have been allowed since.

Making my way outdoors, I take a moment to enjoy my surroundings. The clubhouse is the first of many buildings on the compound. My dad owns fifty acres out in the country of Haywood's Landing; a small coastal North Carolina town. Thirty of it is compound land which is surrounded by a privacy fence that is eight feet tall with barbwire running across the top and security cameras mounted along the way. The front gates open to the space of the lot for parking where, in the center, there are three flag poles, our American flag, our POW/KIA memorial flag, and our Hellions flag are all proudly on display. The clubhouse is the first building due to the fact it's where most club events occur.

Finished with my small break, I continue cleaning up. Once I've gathered all the trash from the clubhouse, I head out to the pit to dump my trash bag. The pit is a concrete slab with a few posts holding up an A-frame tin roof. Under the shelter are pig cookers, gas grills, charcoal grills, and the oyster tables for oyster roasts. The tables are six feet long, wooden with a stainless steel top, and in the middle, there is a square hole cut out that a bucket goes under. When the oysters are ready, they are dumped on the open table to be shelled and eaten. When finished, you drop the shells in the hole to the bucket to be tossed. This is nice because anytime we cook for large crowd's cleanup is easy. Later today, a prospect will be out here, cleaning the grills and pig cooker and hosing off the concrete.

The open grass area beside the pit is used for horseshoes, badminton, volleyball, and the kids' toys for barbeques and parties. Beyond that are the boys' shops, the duplexes, and the cave.

Dad does not allow drinking and driving, and some of the brothers don't have homes. To give everyone a place, he's had a bunch of duplex-type buildings put in. Each home has four separate bedrooms with their own full bathrooms. They share a common area with a couch, love seat, TV, and small kitchenette. Each bedroom is assigned to a patched member, even the ones who don't live here full time have their own room. They hold the key in order to keep their private space just that, private. The married guys even have a room in case they need a place to crash for any reason. There are two buildings reserved for guest clubs passing through under our protection. After last night, every room is full, some even shared, and tents and campers fill the lot.

The shops in the back are basically sheds for the boys to store their bikes and belongings in. They're roomy but not huge. There is enough for toolboxes, some workout space, and their motorcycles.

The cave is the other building on the compound. It's a large, one room building with a table inside, that's all I know. I've never seen the interior. That building is for sermon; only patched Hellions are allowed, no women ever. That is where business is discussed, members are voted on, and decisions are made. Prospects don't even go in to clean it. That is the one building that the Hellions clean for themselves. Not a prospect, not an ol lady, a princess, or even a hired maid have permission to enter the cave. Only two people hold keys to that building, my dad and Danza, the VP.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch movement over by the duplexes. Looking up, I see Sass making her way over to me. The walk of shame is evident in her stature. Her hair is a mess, clothes wrinkled, her shirt is on inside-out, and her face is flushed in what looks to be a mix of satisfaction and anger.

Damn it, I can't believe she's done it. We have a rule: don't sleep with Haywood's Hellions. Sure, we flirt, but as the saying goes, _'don't shit where you sleep'_. Fuck, this can't be good. Although, maybe it was a member from a different charter. Since we don't have to see them all the time, the situation would be more tolerable than one of the local brothers. We flirt with all the boys, but neither of us has hooked up with a Hellion before.

"Doll, don't ask. I see the look on your face. If my dad asks, I was with you last night."

"Sass, you know I've always got you, but exactly who were you with last night? And why do you look like you are holding back tears?" I ask, full of concern for my friend.

"Tank. And I should've known better," she says with her voice trembling as she fights to push back the tears.

Shit, of all the Haywood's Hellions, Tank is the worst she could've hooked up with. He's a man-whore. Bigger than that, they have a genuine friendship, or so I thought.

"What the hell happened?"

She takes a minute and pulls herself together. "What happened? What happened! Oh Doll, that man just gave me the absolute best night of my life. Everything the girls say about him is true and then some. I wake up this morning thinking there will be more of last night, when he kicks me out. _Me_ , that fucker kicks _me_ out like I'm a _bar-bitch_."

"Oh, Sass. Did you think for one second Tank, of all people, would treat you special?"

"I'm not club pussy. I'm not a bar-fly. I'm Savannah Mae Mother-Fucking Perchton. We've danced around each other for two years. Two damn years, Doll! We have laughed, flirted, and talked. I've shared my real dreams with him, told him shit I haven't told anyone but you. Yes, I thought I was someone special to him. At least I thought I was until this morning," she replies with anger now replacing the sadness she began with.

"You are someone special. He's too blind to see anything beyond his brothers and where to put his dick next. You know this! They're all like this for the most part."

Shrugging her shoulders, she huffs before the anger sets back into her voice. "Well, lesson fucking learned. Doll, I want more than being Danza's daughter, working for the club, and knowing my dad is never going to let anyone near me. No more bikers for me. I'm ready for a relationship, not a quick fuck. I thought Tank was, too. Just the other day, he was saying, 'I'm thirty-five years old. I need to stop acting fucking twenty.' It was my mistake for thinking he was hinting at something. I got his message today, loud and clear."

She's now filled with determination and vigor. Uh-oh, this is her sassy side coming out in full force. It's going to suck to be Tank.

"Well, babe, I don't know what to tell you. Anything less than a biker just won't do. You crave the vibration of a bike, your arms around your man, and the wind in your hair as the miles of pavement move below you."

"Not anymore, you'll see Doll. I'm moving on. Now, let's get this place cleaned up before they have sermon. There is a big meeting today, that's why everyone stayed overnight. Dad said the cave will be full for a while, and that's all I know." Looking at me with curiosity and concern, she asks, "Your dad isn't passing the gavel, is he? Why else would they need everyone here?"

"I don't know, girl. It's not my place. Let's get this done and go shopping. You need some retail therapy."

Shopping, how every girl fixes things. Sass and I may not be the girly girls, but who doesn't love a new pair of shoes when dealing with life's woes? My heart hurts for my best friend, yet this is a decision she has to make for herself. In time, she may see things differently, though when the hurt cuts that deep, time, distance, good friends, and booze are the ultimate healers. I'll stick by her through the time, give her the distance from the club, and I'll share as many drinks as it takes for my girl.

* * *

Waking up, I rub the sleep out of my eyes. The throb radiating through my head reminds me of the very good time I had last night. Looking over at the clock, I realize it's time to dismiss my guest and get ready for sermon.

She's lying on her stomach, hand up under the pillow. Her golden brown hair is covering her face and the pillow. Watching her breathing pattern, it's evident she's still asleep. Sliding the covers off her, I expose the round curve of her ass, which is calling to be slapped.

The sound radiates through the quiet of the room as I do just that. Lifting her head in surprise, she smiles up at me. Damn, she's a hot mess in the morning; make up smeared, hair everywhere, and she has the _'I've been worked over look'_ in her eyes.

"Good morning, handsome," she coos at me. I really hate that fucking endearment.

"Ain't nothing handsome about me, it's time for you to go," I reply, already over the idea of having any form of conversation with her.

There weren't many single females around last night. When the ol' ladies and kids are around, the club whores are kept to a minimum. This chick is a friend of an ol' lady, or at least, I think that's what she said last night. I do vaguely recall her saying something about she's never been with a biker before. She's cute enough, but the reality is, I had a certain blonde in my head and needed a release. She was willing and available, so yeah, I took advantage of it.

She reaches her hand under the covers and begins to stroke my dick. As it comes to life, I lay there while images of one special blonde invade my brain. When my bedmate then leans over to kiss my chest, I gently push her head down to guide her where I want her mouth. She moves in an attempt to climb on to me, though.

"Oh, no, baby. You woke it up, you're gonna finish it. With. Your. Mouth."

She makes a pouty face for a moment to show her displeasure at my wish. Fuck that, I'm done with her pussy, but she's going to finish what she started. I gesture with my hands, _what are you waiting for?_ When she still doesn't act accordingly, I sigh.

"Suck. My. Dick. Or get the fuck out, the choice is yours. I got shit to do, so make your decision quick."

She starts at the task, her gag reflex not allowing her to take me all the way. For being as wild as she was last night, she's a timid prude this morning. This is the worst blowjob I've ever been given. She's not even playing with my piercing. I didn't get that part of my anatomy pierced for my pleasure alone. I know my dick is large and it's a lot to take in, but damn, she could use her hand or flick her tongue on my jewelry. Nope. Fucking nothing, she's just sucking with a slight bob of her head. Fuck this! I'm over it. My hand can finish the job better. When I reach down and grab her hair and tug her off me, her mouth comes off my dick with a pop, as she looks up at me with her lips still forming an 'O'. Confusion is written all over her expression, as my irritation with her lack of oral skills visible in mine.

"It's been real, but it's time to go."

"I'm not finished yet," she replies, meekly.

"Yes, you are. I'm never gonna finish with the way you suck dick, and I've got shit to do, so it's time for you to go."

"You're kicking me out? Do you know who I am?"

"Nope, sure don't. Don't really give a flying fuck, either. Time to go."

She huffs and puffs as she climbs off the bed and collects her clothing. She keeps looking over at me. I'm not going to stop her if that's what she's thinking. She is cute, but she's nothing remarkable or memorable. She's going to get the hell out of this room, then I'm going into the bathroom to shower. We have an important sermon today and afterward my crew is heading back to Catawba.

After the bitch finally gets the point and leaves, I saunter to the bathroom to start the shower. Letting the warm water cascade over my body, I wash away the grime of last night, and my thoughts automatically drift to Doll. Picturing her smile, her skin, her body, takes my dick from hard to rock hard.

Release, I need release to get this broad out of my head. Imagining running my rough, calloused hands, over her soft, smooth, perfect skin, I begin to stroke. Each pull of my shaft is bringing the sensations of being inside her more vividly to life in my imagination. Her voice is that of an angel, I can imagine her screaming out my name as I get her off, my large hands cupping her full, luscious breasts, while moving down to squeeze her plump, full ass, with her secure up against me. The face of a doll, the body of a pin up model, and the personality to fit my lifestyle; Doll is everything any man would want.

Tightening my grip as if her pussy were milking me, I increase my pace. The muscles throughout my body are becoming rigid under the pressure, the tension in my balls building, as I finally find my release. In that instant, I think of that simple kiss on my cheek and imagining the feel of her lips wrapped around my dick. My cum is now floating down the drain, and my body and mind are relaxed.

I finish washing, knowing I've got to get Doll out of my head. Fuck, I can't be getting off to Roundman's daughter. I have to get this shit under control.

With my hair still wet from my shower, I leave it down to dry. I dress in the usual jeans and black t-shirt, finished with my black boots. Hearing the sounds coming from Rex's room, I know he's busy, but at least, awake. Grabbing my cut to throw on, I step out of the duplex into the compound lot.

"Tripp, hey brother, how's it going?" Tank greets as he approaches me.

Tank is exactly that, a tank. He's not as tall as me; around five foot ten or so, I would say. Broad shoulders and arms show the man is familiar with a gym. I'm built, but he's stacked. His arms are covered in full sleeve tattoos that go from his neck all the way down, a skull even covering his left hand on one side and his sleeve stopping at his right wrist on the other. The intricate designs are eye catching. The metal in his face adds to his persona as well. His ears are gaged with a lip ring in place, probably for the ladies. His presence is intimidating to most people. Underneath it all, though, he's hilarious and a big kid, once you get to know him. He's come to Charlotte a handful of times and stayed at our compound. He's fun to drink with and the women flock to him. He loves to mess with the pretty boys in collared shirts when we go out and has been known to fuck their bitches right in front of them. He's fierce, he's loyal, and he's everything that represents a Hellion.

"Tank, brother." I reply while we greet in the man half hug, back slap.

Hearing a noise behind us, we both turn around to catch the sight of Doll and Sass bending over to pick up trash. Tank whistles and I laugh just before Doll and Sass abruptly stand and glare over at us.

"Fuck you, Tank." Sass yells over to us.

"Oh, baby, you know you want to."

The girls are making their way over in an aggressive march. Shit, they're not happy with the flirtatious behavior of my brother.

"Let me tell you something, Frank Thomas Oleander. I've fucked you once. I won't fuck you twice. Take all those thoughts from your pea-sized brain and tell them to your pea-sized penis."

I watch as Doll flinches at Sass's words. Damn. Now I see why they call her Sass. Doll reaches out to grab Sass and pull her back. Instead, Sass steps closer, toe-to-toe with Tank, she stands strong against him. He takes the opportunity to grab her ass and pull her closer, rubbing up against her. I can't tell if he's going to fuck her right here on the spot, or cuss her out.

"Oh, baby, that sassy mouth," he croons, "I know just how to shut you the fuck up. And last night, my dick sure as shit wasn't pea-sized as you were begging for more. Talk your shit, but you know you want more. You know there's gonna be more. That sassy ass is mine, Savannah. I know it, you know it; you just don't wanna admit it. It's all good, baby. No one else will ever match up to what I gave you."

"Keep dreaming, Tank. Badass biker... Fucking shithead... Controlling ass pricks. You, my dad, and every other fucking Hellion here can kiss my ass. I'm done with this shit. Never. Again."

With that, she backs away then turns and storms off. Doll is standing there, stunned.

"Tank, how could you? You fucked her, fine, you're both grown ass adults, but you didn't have to treat her like a bar-bitch. You know better. Even I fucking expected more from you," Doll chastises.

He starts shaking his head as her words begin to sink in. "I'm sorry, Doll. It's not like that. She isn't a bar-bitch. I'm not looking to settle down, though. The white picket fence and shit isn't for me."

"She doesn't want a white picket fence, dumbass. Neither, Sass or I, feel ready for the complications of a serious relationship. Sometimes chicks are out to have a good time and see where it goes, not get married right off the bat. Why do men make such quick assumptions?" Doll's frustrations are rolling off her with each word.

"I fucked up, Doll. My bad. You know I can't give her what she needs or wants, not long term. It's a good time, that's all. I didn't mean to be harsh this morning. It was just habit, that's all," he says running his hand through his hair.

"'My bad.' __ That's all you're gonna say?" Doll lowers her voice, mocking Tank to his face. "'My bad. It's a habit.' __ Man, fuck you, Tank!"

And before either of us can respond, Doll is off at a slow jog to catch up with her friend. Meanwhile, Tank is still shaking his head, running his hand through his short, dark hair, sighing.

I sigh as well. "Do I even want to know, brother?"

"Nah, man. I fucked up, it's what I do. Danza is gonna fucking kill me when he finds out," Tank replies as the relaxed tone of his voice is replaced with tension and something else that might even be sadness.

"She's an adult. Danza won't be happy, but I'm sure he'll understand. She's the one who's pissed enough she seems ready to cut your balls off." I say, thinking _, 'Damn, he really messed this one up.'_

"It is what it is. Fuck her, man. Come on, let's get to sermon."

* * *

_The story continues in One Ride (Hellions Ride Series Book 1) available through all major eBook retailers for FREE!_

_Get it here!_

# Publication Acknowledgments

Editing by: C&D Editing and Asli Fratarcangeli

Original Cover Design by: Jessie Lane

Formatting by: M.L. Pahl of IndieVention Designs

2019 Cover Photo Credit: Deposit Photos
