Grim: The Beginning

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Authors: Glenna Maynard

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic Erotica

BOOK: Grim: The Beginning
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Grim

The beginning

A Black Rebel Riders' MC Novella

Table of Contents

Title Page

Grim (The beginning)

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Acknowledgments

Dear Reader,

About the Author

Other titles from this author:

Glenna Maynard

Grim Glenna Maynard ©2014

This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, business, establishments, locals or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events, business, organizations or locals is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and authenticity.

All rights reserved.  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a   retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Harley Davidson.

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Acknowledgments

Dear Reader,

About the Author

Other titles from this author:

Dedication

T
his series is dedicated to some people who have meant the world to me. Their love of Harley Davidson and rock 'n roll is something I will always carry with me. Foxy Roxie, Elmer Lee (Cowboy) and my parents Glen & Alice. Thank you for all of the wonderful influences you placed upon me.  Roxie, Elmer and dad I hope you all are riding on that highway in the sky.

My name is Grim and this is the beginning... This isn't a fairytale romance or for the faint of heart.
Deep in the hills of Drag Creek Kentucky, there is a group of outlaws, whose love of moonshine and Harley Davidson runs through their blood. We are known as the Black Rebel Riders' MC. For the past twenty years my club has been at war with a rival MC, The Devil's Rejects.

The Black Rebel Riders' MC is located in Drag Creek Kentucky. They are a group of outlaws who live and die by their way of life. For them it has always been about moonshine, brotherhood and motorcycles. Black Rebel Riders' MC was founded by Slim Black and Grim Jones—two friends who were looking to get out of the killing game, but with everything comes a price. A price that Slim and Grim have been paying for years for turning their backs on the Devils Rejects and starting their own MC. That price is war. Hook, the president of the Devils Rejects has been hell bent on revenge for the past twenty years, this is the beginning, this is my story...Grim.

Grim

The Beginning

Chapter 1

T
here’s nothing but the open road, my beast between my legs and the moon. Just the way I like it too. There’s nothing better than the sound of a motorcycle roaring down the road, nothing sweeter. At least that’s what I thought until Gypsy Red put her spell on me...

The night I met Gypsy Red my world was turned upside down. All of my self-imposed rules died like a slowly burning ember fighting for oxygen. She came out of nowhere, literally. It was me and the night, and then there was her. One minute the road laid out empty for miles as far as my eyes could see under the pale of the moon, and then I saw her. She was lying across the hood of her broken down Nova. I might have missed her if it weren’t for them long, white—creamy legs and her fire engine red hair. Looked like a damn cotton swab on fire.

First I thought she was dead as I came to a slow roll, as I was passing her by. I don’t know why I felt compelled to stop. I suppose I have a few manners left in me even if I am a dirty son of a bastard and the vice president of the Black Rebel Riders’ MC.  Women are to be cherished and respected and damn it if I ain't a fool for a woman in need of help. Had I known Gypsy Red, I’d known she didn’t need no man to take care of her, she clearly could handle her own. Like I said, I thought she was dead, she was just lying there, like a fish hours out of water.

Parking my bike, I approached her real slow. It could be a setup. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman was used to lure me and my brothers into trouble. But then I heard the soft sobs and the closer I inspected the woman, her chest was heaving uncontrollably. Even if she didn’t want it, she needed my help.

“Humph,” I cleared my throat to get her attention. “Miss, are you broke down?” You see Highway 32 is not a place you’d want to run out of gas or have a breakdown. This road isn’t traveled by many besides my brothers' and me. Doesn’t she know this is the road to hell? The only place for miles is our bar, The Roadhouse.  You see my brothers and I own and run  a beer and pizza joint, but it is really just a cover for our moonshine business. The Roadhouse serves as our clubhouse. We take care of our own and we only deal with our own kind, if we can help it.

“Go away,” she wipes her tears and slowly peeks out at me through her slender hands.

“Now look here, I might look scary but I won’t hurt you. Just want to see if I can assist. There ain’t nothing for miles and the only people this far out are on their way to hell.” Shit, I am a scary looking son of a bitch. I already have full sleeves tatted up both arms and scars on my face to prove how tough I am. I ain't pretty to look at, most women look down at their feet when I talk to them. I haven't found one I’d make my top bitch. I figure I have plenty of time, fuck I am only twenty-seven years young. But at twenty- seven I have done seen my share of shit. More than one ought to go through, but I didn’t choose this life it chose me.

She gasps, clutches her chest and then she lets out the most musical laugh I have ever heard. It is like a damn siren singing in my head. I need to get close to her...I need to see her face. “Well that’s where I’m headed—hell.” She starts laughing again like some sort of loon this time. I swear the crazy bitch just slapped her knee like I just told her the funniest thing she done did heard.

––––––––

“A
re you high?” I can’t stand a bitch that’s tweaking.

“No, I got a busted tire and I think my battery’s dead and well, I ain’t got no gas either.”

“Well shit, you is in a bind ain’t ya Red? Here’s your choices, you can stay here hoping someone bigger and meaner than me don’t try to drag you off for some fun to leave you in a ditch or you can come with me and I’ll bring you back tomorrow to get your car situated.” I walk closer to her. I am only going to offer my hand to help her off the hood and she flinches. “I said I ain’t going to hurt you, damn it.” I mumble to myself that I shoulda just kept rolling by. That’s when I see her face. She’s been sliced up real good across her lip.  Fuck, I don't know who did this but I don’t like no man putting his hands on a woman.  The moonlight hits her cheekbone casting light on her bruised jaw. I run my finger over the bruise, she winces as a hiss escapes my lips.

“Who hurt ya Red?”

“Don’t worry about me, you should see him. But I guess he won’t be seeing much since I killed that sorry bastard.” Her lip curls up with a proud smile, earning her my respect. I like a person who can own what they have done.

I don’t know what to say to that. But whatever that sorry bastard did I am sure he deserved it.

“Well that’s that, you comin’ or not?” She looks at me really funny like, without any hesitation or doubt she puts her hand in mine.  With her bag slung over her shoulder she climbs behind me on the beast and I take her home with me. Normally a brother doesn’t bring a piece of strange to the clubhouse, but Red is different. I don’t know why but she just is.
Maybe it was the moon that night or the fire in her eyes, but I couldn't leave her there.

We ride thirty miles in silence before I turn down the dirt path that leads to the back of the compound. You wouldn’t know the secret path is hidden behind the brush unless you are a Black Rebel.  The road twist and turns so much a normal person would never be able to stay on the narrow road, but we have it like this for a reason. Any of my brothers could drive this path blindfolded but anyone else would end up nose first in a tree.  You don’t live the life we lead and not have ways to protect your livelihood. We have a trailer park behind the bar, but all members don't have one. The trailers are reserved for the families. The other brothers live in the apartments over the bar. But being Vice President I get my own trailer, but if one of the brothers were to take and start a family and needed it, I'd give it to them. Not because I'd have to, but because I would want to.

We hit the clearing that is home to all the trailers, place looks like a redneck dream. I have one of the larger ones since I am vice president, but I really don't have much use for it since I don't have a family to house in it. I have just broke two rules— one bringing Red here and number two bringing her in on the back road. I bring my bike to a stop and takeout a flashlight to light the way to the steps.

I could have turned on the outdoor lights but I don't want to draw no attention to my guest. Struggling to unlock my door about damn near makes me embarrassed. This woman is doing funny things to my brain. I have only just met her and everything in me is screaming out to protect her—to have her. The urge to sling her over my shoulder all cave man like—throw her down on my bed and do bad things with her is knotted up in my chest. But seeing she is in a bad way I don't see that sittin' too well with her. Instead of claiming that sweet body and having those milky legs thrown over my shoulders, I invite her in.
My life was never the same after she crossed over my doorstep...

Giving her a minute to take in the place, I light up a joint to wind down. Like I said I have one of the nicer trailers and being VP has its perks—free housekeeping. I imagine this is not what she was expecting when she got on the back of my chopper since I look pretty fucking rough. My appearance is scary and I like it that way— motherfuckers know I don’t mess around. I have red tear drops trickling down my neck to symbolize the number of men I’ve killed. I almost look like my neck is bleeding raindrops. I am a cold blooded killer— a gun for hire. I don't do roses and candy. I am not in the killing business anymore, but that doesn't change the evil that has tainted my soul. I'm not a good man. I have hurt good people for a dollar. I like to get my nuts off and be done with a woman.
But Red, she had different plans for me, I just didn't know how different at the time.

My place is clean and my furniture is well kept. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to have little shits of my own roughing up the place. My thoughts are interrupted— thank god— by Red gasping when she fully sees my face and how fucked up it is. I’m glad for the interruption. Like I said crazy bitch is messing with my head. I just pictured little red headed flaming q-tips fucking up my spot.

“Bathroom is third door on the left and you can have your pick of a bedroom, I don’t sleep here much. I’m usually at the clubhouse.” She purses her lips and then she does something real strange.

Red walks over to me and kisses the ugliest of my scars on my face and she whispers, “thank you,” so light her breath feels like a feather tickling my ear.  “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Names Jack, but most people call me Grim.”

“Thank you Jack,” you’ve shown me more kindness in an hour than most have shown me my whole life. You can call me Gypsy Red. I’m a wanderer, don’t stay put long.”

“Heard that.” I let her make use of the bathroom and go in the kitchen to see if I can rustle up some grub. That joint has me starving with the munchies.
I wasn't used to having a woman around or having to feed one.
I keep my whores where they belong—at the clubhouse.  They suck and fuck me and then I’m done with them. But Red— I wouldn’t mind if she stayed.

Christ, my breath catches in my throat when I hear the bathroom door open and Red emerges in a barely there towel. Her vanilla—cream ass is hanging out and I want to spank it. I have it my mind that I’d liked to bend her over and beat that ass. There’s a fire in her eyes that tells me she’d like it too.  I’ve never seen eyes look like hers, they're a golden honey brown shade with flecks of orange and the red color of her hair makes the flecks look like tiny flickers of a candle.

“You got any clothes?”  She shakes her head at me. I know I had better get something to cover that sexy body on her fast. “My room is the first door on the right. Go on in and take whatever you need for the night. I’ll get ya something nice to put on in the morning.” She looks at me like she is about to cry. Jesus, I only offered her a place to lay her head and a shirt. What in the hell has she been through? “After you get eh...dressed I made ya a sandwich.” Red nods and I turn on my TV and start watching an episode of Cops. These dumb sons of bitches crack my shit up. I love it when they say these aren’t my pants officer.

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