Outlaw (Devil's Fury MC 2)

Outlaw (Devil's Fury MC 2)
Second Edition
Harley Wylde
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Harley Wylde
 

Elena

The man I’d been ordered to call Father had been droning on for what felt like hours. The tent was stifling hot thanks to the bodies crammed inside, and I’d honestly rather have been anywhere else. I’d heard horror stories about being in foster care, but when my case worker had told me a preacher and his wife wanted me, I’d thought I’d been lucky. It wasn’t so much that they abused me, but they expected perfection, and I was far from perfect. Things could have been worse. I’d been out of the system for a few years now, and I still had a place to live. Most kids would have been kicked out.

The only job I’d been permitted was at the library. My “parents” had thought it was a safe enough place to be, and respectable. That last part counted the most with them. My necklines had to be high enough to never show even a hint of cleavage. I wasn’t permitted to wear anything that hugged my curves, and had a closet full of baggy pants, tops, and ankle-length skirts. What my parents hadn’t realized was that I’d been saving since I got my job. They thought I spent my money on clothes or going out with my friends. Not that I had many of those. None, actually. Not genuine ones.

Two weeks ago, I’d purchased a phone at the grocery store a few towns over and added a month of service, then purchased an additional phone card for when that plan ran out. In the tire well of my trunk, I’d stashed a duffle bag with clothing and shoes of my choosing, along with that phone and card. Using a bank my parents hadn’t had access to had worked in my favor. I’d already withdrawn every penny I had and closed out the account. All I needed now was the perfect moment. The way my mother kept pushing Garrison West at me, I knew that moment was now. The subtle hints from the past year were now more of a demand.

There was no way I would marry the deacon of our church. He was fifteen years older than me, but it wasn’t his age that was the problem. Honestly, my celebrity crush was old enough to be my dad. The difference was my crush was hot, and Garrison wasn’t. Not even a little. But even that wasn’t the deal breaker. No, it was the fact he expected me to remain barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen that rubbed me the wrong way. I had no problem being a mom, but Garrison didn’t want a wife. He wanted a broodmare.

My mother had told him more than once, in front of me, that I was still a virgin and would be an excellent wife for him. She even commented on my “birthing hips.” Seriously, who said that anymore? The only reason I hadn’t tossed my V-card was because I didn’t want a one-night stand with some drunk guy in a neighboring town, and no one in Ridgemont would touch me. Our sleepy town boasted a population of seven thousand, and anything that happened around here got back to my parents. As to the other… I didn’t care to find out if what she said was true until I was having those babies with a man who loved me.

The woman next to me leaned in close to whisper. “Such a good sermon! You’re so lucky to have such an upstanding man as your dad.”

I gave her a weak smile and nodded.

“And to have Garrison West interested in you! My, you must be so thrilled!” The woman tittered before sitting all the way back in her seat.

I tried to keep the smile on my face, but it was difficult to do.

My father stepped away from the makeshift pulpit and started mingling with his congregation. Now that he was finished telling everyone about the wages of sin, I knew people would head toward the tables of food. While it was somewhat chaotic, I decided that now was my one and only chance. I stood from my seat, making sure my mother was preoccupied, and I made my escape. The moment I was free of the tent, I breathed a little easier. The small purse hanging from my shoulder had my wallet and keys inside. I pulled out my keyring and popped the locks on my car.

“Please don’t see me,” I muttered as I started to run for the vehicle.

The little hatchback beeped and the lights flashed, but no one seemed to notice. I stopped and looked behind me just to be sure, then hastened my pace and opened the door. I slid behind the wheel, my hands shaking as I tried to calm my racing heart. Tossing my purse onto the passenger seat, I started the car and headed for the highway. I didn’t care where I went, as long as it wasn’t here! With some luck, it would take them at least an hour or two to figure out I wasn’t at the revival, or at home. I’d already disabled the GPS on my car -- Thank you, YouTube! -- and hoped they didn’t have another way to track me. Since I’d never been permitted to have a phone, I didn’t have to worry about ditching one.

Not once in all the years I’d been with the Tolberts had I ever given them a reason to doubt me. I’d followed the rules, toed the line, and made sure I kept them happy. I knew that neither of them would have ever thought I’d run away, but at twenty-one that’s exactly what I was doing! I debated going through Atlanta, but I worried I’d get stuck in the god-awful traffic and someone would catch up to me. Instead, I skirted around the city. Well, more than skirted. I headed for Carrollton and took Highway 27 south. I didn’t have a destination in mind, but I’d have loved to see Florida.

“All right. I may not know where I’m going, but I do believe in fate and I know I’ll end up where I’m supposed to be.” At least, I hoped that was true. My life might have been far from perfect, but at least it hadn’t been entirely awful. Things could have been much worse after my family died, or at least that’s what I’d been told happened. I didn’t actually remember the details. That part of my life was a bit fuzzy, either because of how long it had been or maybe it had been too traumatic.

I made it as far as Cuthbert, Georgia before my back and neck started aching. I hadn’t driven farther than a half hour since I’d had my license. As much fun as a college town might have been, I wasn’t ready to stop just yet. The more distance between me and my family the better. I’d been on the road for roughly five hours, but I didn’t think that was enough. Between Cuthbert and the Florida state line, I had no choice but to pull over. I would just have to hope that the reach of Reverend Tolbert didn’t come quite this far.

The exit had a small sign posted. Blackwood Falls. I hadn’t ever heard of it, and since the population was under ten thousand, I had to hope that no one else had either. It seemed like a good enough place to get lost for a day or two. A motel with blinking cherries beckoned, and I pulled into the lot near the front office. I couldn’t stifle my groan as I got out and walked inside. It felt entirely too good to stand up and stretch. Ringing the bell on the counter, I twisted one way, then the other as I waited.

A frail woman, who looked like a stiff wind would knock her over, used a walker to approach from behind the counter. She gave me a gummy smile, and I couldn’t help but hope she had someone helping her run the place. She pushed a book toward me and I realized the motel was still old-school and I had to write my information down to get a room. When I was done, she told me the price per night and I handed over some cash to cover two nights.

“Diner is down the street,” she said. “But young thing like you probably wants the Devil’s Fury. Seems like all the girls want to go there. I might be an old woman, but I wasn’t always. I understand wanting to kick up your heels. Go to the edge of town and you can’t miss it. Just look for all the cars and bikes.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Cars and bikes? Just what kind of place was Devil’s Fury? After having religion crammed down my throat for so long, I had to admit the name alone intrigued me. I took my room key -- which was an actual key! -- and drove down to room six. After I put my things in the room, I knew I needed a hot bath, then I’d decide where I wanted to go, or if I just wanted to nap. The trip had been rougher than I’d imagined, but then I’d never been anywhere this far from home before.

I filled the tub with steamy water, then sank as far as I could. A whirlpool tub would have been amazing, but this would do. I could feel my back cracking and popping as my tension slowly eased. The stress of the last few weeks, then my fear of getting caught, had wound me up tight. The water must have felt a little too good because the next thing I knew I was opening my eyes and the bath had become ice-cold. Draining the water, I shivered and stood. After drying off, I pulled on a knit dress that hugged my upper body and flared out to my knees. The peep-toe shoes I’d picked up looked adorable with it. I changed out my purse to a slightly larger one, tossed in a sexy romance I’d hidden in my car, and decided it was time to get out of the motel room for a while.

The thought of checking out the Devil’s Fury still lurked in the back of my mind, and after I started the car, I found myself heading to the opposite side of town.

“It can’t hurt to just check it out, right?” Not that I expected an answer since it was just me in the car.

The last thing I anticipated was a club of some sort, or the line of motorcycles out front. A man stood at the gate and waved me through. Sure, the lady at the motel had said bikes, but I’d thought maybe she meant the kind you pedaled. Then again, the name Devil’s Fury should have clued me in. I might not have experienced anything like this before, but I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t think so anyway. After I found a spot to park, I grabbed my purse and got out, smoothing my dress before locking the car.

Inside, smoke and music filled the air. I coughed and waved a hand in front of my face as my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. My mouth dropped open at the sight of nearly naked, and fully naked, women. The men wearing leather vests -- cuts? Hadn’t that been what they were called in books and shows? -- were openly touching them, and a few… my cheeks burned! Were those women giving blowjobs? Out in the open? Exactly what kind of place had I come to? The words Devil’s Fury MC were stitched on the back of each cut, and I now realized I’d entered the den of a motorcycle club. I’d heard of places like this, but no details. Now I understood why.