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  • Storm MC Collection Books 1 - 4 (Motorcycle Club Romance) Page 2

Storm MC Collection Books 1 - 4 (Motorcycle Club Romance) Read online

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  “Madison, it’s Griff. Got some news for you that you’re not gonna like very much.”

  Fuck. Griff was a member of Storm, the motorcycle club that my Dad was President of, and my brother, Scott, was Vice President of. I grew up in the club; it was my family. However, two years earlier I walked away from that life, moving from Brisbane to Coffs Harbour to put distance between us. Now I spent my time trying to keep my nose out of club business. My family had supported my move two years ago, but they wanted me to come home. Scott often called and visited, trying to convince me, but I never caved. When I left, I’d been a broken mess, and I was still trying to put myself back together. Going home would be going backwards as far as I was concerned.

  I sighed. “What’s up, Griff?”

  “Scott wants you back here. There’s some shit going down with Black Deeds and he doesn’t want you alone in case they retaliate by going after you.”

  Black Deeds MC was a rival club Storm often had problems with, so I couldn’t see that this would be any different. “Griff, I’m fine, and you can tell Scott I’m not coming back.”

  “It’s bad shit, babe. Be best if you did come home.”

  “The answer’s no. Not happening.” I raked my fingers through my hair and blew out a long breath, wishing he would accept my answer and let me get on with my night.

  There was a long pause while he took in what I said. He probably hated this part of the job. Dealing with me. I would. “Right. I’ll pass that on to Scott,” he replied, and then hung up.

  I stared at the phone. He gave in way too easily and it made me suspicious. They had to have an agenda and I wondered what would be the next step now that I’d said no. Storm didn’t take no for an answer. Ever. And they didn’t tend to get caught up in bad situations for too long. They barrelled through anything that got in their way. They had a reputation for being a strong and ruthless club, so there was only one question on my mind. What the fuck have they gotten themselves into that’s made them feel this threatened?

  “Hey, honey, I’m home,” I yelled out as I came through the front door.

  “I’m in the kitchen, chica,” came the reply, and I headed towards the voice.

  The scene that greeted me in the kitchen left me stunned. My best friend and roommate, Serena, had filled the kitchen with muffins. It was after midnight and there she was with about fifty muffins spread from one end of the kitchen to the other. Her hair, face and clothes were covered in flour, and there were ingredients and cooking utensils everywhere. Unusual for Serena; my BFF was no domestic goddess.

  “What is all this cooking in aid of?” I asked, because it had to be for a reason. Serena didn’t often bake.

  “My mother,” she said simply. And that said it all. Serena’s mother was a domineering woman and when she said jump, you said how high.

  “Ah, another one of her charity assignments?” Her mother was always doing stuff for charities so I guessed this was just another one of those. Usually, she didn’t get Serena to bake though, because let’s face it, we all knew her skills in this department were somewhat lacking.

  Serena nodded. “Yep, and at the rate I’m going, I doubt she’ll ever ask me to cook for her again.”

  I laughed. “Do you want some help, honey?”

  She flashed me a huge grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  We spent the next hour tidying up and getting the muffins packed and ready to be delivered to her mother later that day. At about two a.m. I crawled into bed, exhausted after a long day, but sleep eluded me. Thoughts of Storm and my life before I left assaulted me, and as much as I tried to avoid them, I couldn’t.

  I’d been in a living hell for most of the year prior to leaving Brisbane. To be honest, it began before that. It started after Rob attacked me which was almost two years before I left, back when I was dating J, the guy who I thought would be my forever. Our relationship had never been the same after J killed Rob when he attacked me. J blamed himself for the attack and I blamed myself for J killing him.

  That night had started like any other for me. I’d gone to work at Hyde’s, a local bar. Rob worked with me as a bartender and we’d had a fun night with all the regulars. However, after close, while I was waiting for J to pick me up, Rob had turned on me and attempted to rape me in the car park outside the bar. J was late picking me up and arrived mid attack, just as Rob had pulled a knife on me and slashed my arm. Five minutes later, Rob was dead after J shot him and so began our descent into hell.

  J and I had been together for a little over two years at that point. We’d been great friends for a lot longer than that. He’d joined Storm when he was nineteen. I was a seventeen-year–old schoolgirl at the time and fell hard for him. However, nothing but flirting happened between us for six years, and during that time, we built a strong friendship. Our relationship as a couple had been fiery. We couldn’t get enough of each other, but at the same time, we argued constantly. Our main problem stemmed from the club. J didn’t involve me in club business, annoying the hell out of me. I wanted to be a part of every aspect of his life and when he refused to talk about the club with me, I felt closed off from part of him, which led to many arguments.

  In the end though, what tore us apart was our inability to deal with the fallout from Rob’s death. After the attempted rape, J tried to wrap me in cotton wool. He constantly monitored my whereabouts and tried to dictate where I could go and what I could do. I was not a woman who could cope with that style of relationship. On top of that, I’d started drinking heavily. Feeling responsible for Rob’s death and being unable to work through my feelings associated with that, I’d resorted to shutting it all out by hitting the bar.

  It started out as a bit of fun, but quickly spiralled into an addiction I couldn’t get under control. J had lived with an alcoholic parent and had no tolerance for drinking to excess. He tried desperately to get me help but I blocked all his attempts. This went on for almost a year and the final nail in our coffin had been Jodie, a club whore who J had supposedly cheated on me with. I’d believed the rumours, or perhaps I had wanted to, simply to have an excuse to walk away from the hard work our relationship had become. Sometimes it didn’t seem like love was enough when everything else was a struggle.

  The year after I left J was the lowest point in my life. My drinking was worse. I had shut myself off from family and friends, and I had hooked up with a violent and controlling biker from Storm’s rival club, Black Deeds. Nix was the VP of Black Deeds and getting involved with him had angered my father, brother and J. This had been a good reason for me to continue the relationship because at the time, they were all pissing me off and it felt good to return the gesture. A couple of months into the relationship, I discovered that J hadn’t cheated on me. I was gutted that I’d thrown our relationship away so easily because of a lie, and went to him to apologise for not believing in him. That had been a turning point for me because we rekindled our friendship and he tried to help me get my life back on track. The problem was that Nix wasn’t about to give me up that easily. Although we had only been together for a very short time, he was committed to keeping us together. He didn’t like my friendship with J and the day he worked out I was still in love with him was the day he almost beat me to death. That was the day my life turned in a new direction and led me to where I was now.

  I hadn’t spoken to J in over two years. I’d also stayed sober in that time. Moving away from Storm saved my life. The problem was, I felt dead on the inside. I was a twenty-nine year old single woman just going through the motions of life. Sure, I had a job, good friends, and a great social life. On the outside, my life looked like fun. But it wasn’t real. And I didn’t know how to make it any better.

  3

  Madison

  “Hello, my name is Madison, and I’m an alcoholic.”

  “Hello, Madison,” the group responded and I proceeded to share my story. This group was my safe place and at that moment I needed them in a way I hadn’t for a very long time.
As I finished, I blew out my breath and let the group’s acceptance and support envelope me. It seeped into my bones as I glanced around the room, offering a small smile in thanks. Someone else started sharing their story and I sat back and silently lent my support, as had been done for me.

  When I first started coming to the group two years earlier, I absolutely hated it. Although I knew I had to get my shit together, the last thing I wanted to do was give up drinking. It was the shield I used to stop the grime of life from touching me. When I drank, I could just let it pass on by. In the end, however, it sent me to a place I never wanted to go back to. I may have fought this group and what it offered for a while, but I made myself a promise to clean up my act, and I followed through on this. Slowly, I realised the support I found in the group was exactly what I needed.

  I attended meetings weekly. Not so much because I still craved alcohol, because I didn’t. No, it was more out of habit and to make sure I never went there again. As I looked around the room, I saw people at varying stages of their journey. The ones I liked to focus on were the AA newbies. They reminded me of how far I’d come and how much stronger I was..

  That night, though, I was feeling a little vulnerable. Thinking about Storm and J stirred up old feelings of hurt and anger, feelings I’d spent the last couple of years avoiding. In order to move on, I’d needed to lock away all thoughts of J. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about him and that had worked for me, but it wasn’t working so well after receiving the call from Griff. And while I didn’t feel like a drink, I knew myself enough to know I needed to be at the meeting.

  The meeting ended soon after and I headed straight out rather than staying for a coffee. Stepping out into the warm January night, I lit a cigarette as I walked home. My mind moved on to the long list of jobs I had to get done that night. Christ, I was supposed to call my brother over an hour ago. I pulled my phone out and dialled him. No answer. Fuck. He would be pissed at me. I left a message and then sent a text to Serena, to let her know I was on my way home.

  Me: On my way, what’s for dinner?

  Serena: Fuck off. You’re taking me out.

  Me: Am I? Make sure you wear that slutty dress for me.

  Serena: Oh, I’ll wear it babe but I’m not putting out.

  God, how I loved this chick. She was my sunshine at the end of a shitty day. Even on days when I was exhausted, she managed to pick me up. I would forever be thankful for the day she came into my life. When I moved to Coffs Harbour I hadn’t expected to find a new family, but that was just what I did find. I’d started a job in a clothing boutique and Serena was my workmate. We’d hit it off straight away. We shared the same sense of humour, and bonded over our love for slutty dresses, heels and inked men. Serena introduced me to her inner circle of friends and I became fast friends with them as well. The five of us were inseparable and they were always there for me.

  My phone rang and I answered it, without looking at the caller ID, with some attitude, figuring it was my brother calling back. “Scott, what the fuck is so urgent that you felt the need to leave five shitty messages for me?”

  A chuckle came down the line. “Babe, you’ve got the wrong man.”

  “Oh, shit. Sorry, Blake, I thought you were Scott. Thank God, it’s you.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Obviously. What have you done to piss him off?”

  “Nothing. You know what Scott’s like. Always finding something to be pissy about,” I snapped. Jesus, just thinking about my brother gave me the shits.

  “Babe.” Blake paused and I was sure I could actually hear his mind ticking over. “The words pissy and Scott Cole do not go together in the same sentence. Your brother is far too intense that pissy just doesn’t cover it.”

  I blew out a long, frustrated breath. “Yeah, you’re right about that.” Blake had met Scott a couple of times, so he’d seen firsthand just how intense my brother could be. “Why are you calling me?”

  “Gina told me what a shit day you had so I’ve made you dinner. Bring Serena too.”

  “You’re a superstar, Blake Stone. We’ll be there in about half an hour.”

  “See you then,” he said and we hung up. My day had just gotten better. It was funny how the simple things that friends did could mean so much.

  Two hours later I was at Blake’s house when my brother finally returned my call.

  “Scott,” I answered and mentally banged my head against the wall. I really didn’t want to deal with his shit.

  “You been updated?” Yep, he was pissed at me.

  I sighed. “Yeah, Griff called.” I hesitated and then threw caution to the wind. “Scott, I don’t need or even want to be kept in the loop on this shit.” As I held my breath and waited for what I knew would not be a pretty reply, I couldn’t help but think of the irony in this situation. Years ago I’d begged J to talk to me about club business and now I wanted nothing more than to be kept out of the loop.

  “Fuck, Madison! You got no choice. The club needs to make sure you’re safe, so you need to fuckin’ wise up and take this shit in.”

  “What part of ‘I’m out’ don’t you understand?” I rubbed my eyes. It was too late for this argument.

  “What part of ‘you are never out’ do you not fuckin’ understand?” he snapped back.

  I knew I was testing my brother’s patience but I gave up caring about that a long time ago. I sat silently, trying to process everything he said.

  “Why do we have to rehash this crap every time you decide I should come back?” I searched for Blake’s eyes and found them focused on me. He gave me a tight smile and I shook my head back at him. This stuff between Scott and me never got any easier, and Blake knew how hard it was for me.

  Scott softened his tone. “Madison, it’s different this time. Nix is involved.”

  A chill ran along my spine at the mention of that name. I sighed again, resigned. “Okay, talk to me.”

  “Nix has made threats against the club so Dad wants you to leave Coffs Harbour. Move back here, where we can protect you.” Scott finally got to the reason for the call.

  “No.” There was no way I was moving back.

  “Why the fuck do you have to be so fuckin’ stubborn about this?” Scott’s anger filtered through the phone again and I imagined him pacing and getting ready to punch something.

  “Scott, you know what I left. I can’t come back,” I pleaded. I walked out onto the balcony, lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Scott had stopped talking and I hoped he was remembering the mess I was when I left.

  “Okay.” He blew out a long breath. “But I’m putting a guy on you.”

  This was not what I wanted but I knew better than to argue. It was Scott’s version of a compromise, and as he was not known for compromising, ever, I was grateful.

  The next morning I woke up with an uneasy feeling in my gut, wondering where all this shit with the club would end up. Making a coffee, I took it into the bathroom with me. Not being a morning person, I needed a caffeine hit to get me going. Serena, on the other hand, was always up at five a.m. to get her run in before work. I didn’t understand this current trend for running and really couldn’t comprehend anyone wanting to get up that early to do it. Taking my shower, I heard her crashing around in the kitchen making breakfast. I cringed at the thought of the mess she would create making one of her juices; a mess I would have to clean up.

  “Maddy, do you want me to make you some breakfast?” she yelled out.

  “No, honey, but thanks. I’m just going to grab something on the way.”

  “Okay,” she replied and I smiled to myself. She might struggle in the domestic department but at least she tried. There was no doubt she loved taking care of those she loved.

  I finished my shower and took some time to blow-dry my hair and fix my makeup. Normally I didn’t spend a lot of time on this for work, but I was feeling down, and on down days, I liked to look my best. I looked in the mirror and didn’t mind what I saw. Even though I had done som
e hard living, I’d come through pretty much unscathed. Since giving up alcohol, I made an effort to live healthily and I was fit and strong thanks to yoga and walking. Inked images and words holding significance to the highs and lows of my life painted some of the skin on my arms and back. However, the most prominent reminder of the shit I’d done in my life was the long scar Rob inflicted on me; it glared at me every damn day, but I didn’t begrudge it. Whenever Serena or Blake suggested I ink over it, I always said no. I needed to see it to keep me focused on a path that would take me far away from where I once was.

  “I’m ready,” I announced as I headed into the kitchen to grab my lunch out of the fridge. Serena and I had a shift together later that day, which I looked forward to.

  “Let me just put my hair up and then we can go,” she replied and slapped my ass on her way out of the kitchen.

  I laughed and shook my head at her. Yep, it was going to be a good day.

  Five minutes later, Serena reappeared with her hair done. She tilted her head and smiled at me. I knew she was sussing out my mental state because this was something she often did. “How you doing, chica?” she finally asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I answered honestly. “The fact that Nix is involved in all of this worries me. Scott didn’t give me a lot of info to go on but I can only imagine it is bad. Nix is a motherfucker you don’t want to mess with.”

  Serena nodded. “Yeah, I’ve worked that out from some of the stuff you’ve told me in the past. How the hell did you end up dating him?”

  I sighed, wishing my naivety and immaturity hadn’t led me to make the decisions I had. But no amount of wishing could change my past. “I was so messed up and pissed off with J, and Nix was just there one night. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Dad and I weren’t really speaking and I was annoyed at him too. I knew that being with Nix would shit him. I think I kinda did it to get back at all of them; J, Dad and Scott.”

  This was the most I had spoken about my relationship with Nix to Serena, and she encouraged me to keep sharing. “So you hooked up with him and then kept seeing him?”