Clash: Lewd Outlaws MC: Book One

(Lewd Outlaws MC Series 1) Ryder

Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/clash-lewd-outlaws-mc-book-one-lewd-outlaws-mc-se
ries-1-ryder/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...

Inferno Outlaws MC 06 - OUTLAWS - Book 6 A.J.

Nightwolve

https://ebookmass.com/product/inferno-outlaws-mc-06-outlaws-
book-6-a-j-nightwolve/

SMOKE: Young Outlaws MC Nevada (YOUNG OUTLAWS MC -

NEVADA Book 2) T.L Wainwright

https://ebookmass.com/product/smoke-young-outlaws-mc-nevada-
young-outlaws-mc-nevada-book-2-t-l-wainwright/

OUTLAWS - Book 4 (Inferno Outlaws MC) (German Edition)

A.J. Nightwolve

https://ebookmass.com/product/outlaws-book-4-inferno-outlaws-mc-
german-edition-a-j-nightwolve/

The Sins We Hide: Iron Outlaws MC Book 1 Scarlett Cole

https://ebookmass.com/product/the-sins-we-hide-iron-outlaws-mc-
book-1-scarlett-cole/
Outlaws Jen Calonita

https://ebookmass.com/product/outlaws-jen-calonita/

Cap: Celestial Sons MC: Book Four Quinn Ryder &

Annelise Reynolds

https://ebookmass.com/product/cap-celestial-sons-mc-book-four-
quinn-ryder-annelise-reynolds/

Precedent: Sexy Lawyer Man Series Book Three/The

Congressionals MC Book One Mirrah Mcgee

https://ebookmass.com/product/precedent-sexy-lawyer-man-series-
book-three-the-congressionals-mc-book-one-mirrah-mcgee/

Notorious (The LA Defiance MC Series Book 1) K E Osborn

https://ebookmass.com/product/notorious-the-la-defiance-mc-
series-book-1-k-e-osborn/

Harlem: NOLA Rebels MC (Book 4) (NOLA Rebels MC (New

Orleans Series)) Mackenzy Fox

https://ebookmass.com/product/harlem-nola-rebels-mc-book-4-nola-
rebels-mc-new-orleans-series-mackenzy-fox/
 Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges, the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following marks mentioned in this work
of fiction.
Copyright © 2023 Quinn Ryder

Clash- Lewd Outlaws MC Book One by Quinn Ryder

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copy-right reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by
any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without written permission of above copyright owner of this book, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and
reviews.

Editor: Ryder Editing and Formatting

Proofreaders: Courtnay Gray

Cover Design: Quinn Ryder

Printed in the United States of America

Library of Congress Cataloging-In-Publication Data has been applied for by Ryder, Q

Clash- Lewd Outlaws MC Book One—1st Edition

 Table of Contents
Copyright
Blurb
Warning
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
Epilogue
National Domestic Violence Helpline
What’s Next for the Lewd Outlaws MC?
Wasp: Lewd Outlaws MC Book Two
Synopsis
Angela…
Wanna know more about the Lewd Outlaws MC?
Lewd Outlaws MC - RH Books
Lewd Outlaws MC Spinoff
Other Books by Quinn Ryder
The Devil’s Armada MC Series and (O.L.) Series
Harriers of Vengeance MC
Hands of Justice LEMC
 The Celestial Sons MC Series
The Santoyo Brothers Trilogy
Standalones and Collaborations
Author Links:
About the Author
 Blurb
Clash
Bitter and pissed off…
Those are the best words to describe me after everything in my club fell apart, and the rest of my brothers put their faith in
someone else stepping in as club Prez after Sabbath’s demise. That spot was rightfully mine, but nobody else saw it that way.
Now I’m forced to play nice, while the one man who took all our fun away, runs the club with the woman who was supposed to
be “our” Ol’ Lady by his side.
But they say everything happens for a reason, and my reason just happened to crawl out from behind a dumpster, along with her
adorable son that stole my heart. I never expected to fall for a young mom on the run, but that’s exactly what I do, and now that
I’ve met Gina and Alex, I vow to protect them at all costs, even if it means keeping them a secret from my own club, and
eradicating whatever skeletons have them running for their lives just so I can call them mine.
 Warning
Although this book can be read as a standalone, it is the start of a spinoff series from the Lewd Outlaws MC non-conventional Reverse Harem Novella Series I wrote. It is
encouraged to read those stories first if you want to further understand the complexity of the club’s situation. However, knowing that reverse harems aren’t for everyone,
and mine was a non-conventional type of RH book, reading this book without reading the RH series won’t affect the overall story too much.

Triggers:
This book contains situations and scenes that may be hard for people that have triggers involving domestic abuse and violence and homelessness. It also contains graphic
action scenes. Please read with caution if you are easily triggered by these types of situations or stories.
 Dedication
This book is dedicated to any victim suffering from domestic abuse and/or violence.
To the women, children, and men who say enough is enough, and finally decide to leave.
To the ones who stay to protect themselves that are still gaining the strength to take the first step toward the door, and to those who tried but never made it past the
threshold.
You are stronger than you think, and will always have someone out there ready to help you.
And finally, to “R”, the strongest woman I know. You are beautiful and brave. Your story, though it’s kept silent, is an inspiration to those who are still struggling to find the
strength to leave. I’m so thankful to call you my friend and know that you are destined for so many great things in this world. You’re a wonderful mother, an amazing
woman, and an incredible friend. I know you’re on your path to success, and can’t wait to stand on the sidelines cheering you on. I love you!
Club Members
Officers
Snyder (Prez)
Clash (VP)
Zeppelin (SGT at Arms)
Sandman (Enforcer)
Ranger (Treasurer)
Wasp (Road Captain)
Priest (Secretary)
Skid (Tail Gunner)

Members
Riot (Member)
Motley (Member)
Prospects
Slaughtermen (Prospect)
Poison (Prospect)
Danger (Prospect)
Pussycat (Prospect)
Cooper (Prospect
Other Members
Axl (Nomad)
 c

1
My stomach grumbled as I stared at the candy bar sitting in my hand. It was the only food we had, and was bought using the
change I scraped up over the past two days from gutters and wads of chewing gum stuck to the heated streets. I could’ve sat on
a corner begging for money, using my child as a beacon for the bleeding hearts who actually gave a damn about the street rats
who lived on scraps like us, but it would also bring on too much attention—attention that could bring him back into our lives.
My arms still ached from the scattered bruises he left on me. They were long gone, but the internal scarring remained.
Alex’s stomach grumbled beside me, and my own inner hunger waned as I studied his pleading expression. I can live another
day without eating... at least that’s what I was going to keep telling myself.
We left everything back home, leaving with only the shirts on our backs. We hitchhiked across five counties before finally
finding ourselves in Austin, living on the streets as far away from him as we could. The women’s shelter was full, and all the
homeless shelters had a waiting list, so for two weeks now, we’ve stayed out here alone, doing our best to survive even though
the nights were suddenly turning colder.
“Mommy, you can have the candy bar. You look hungry.” His stomach protested, and before I could think twice, I handed
him the candy bar, watching him gobble up every morsel like it was a five-star meal. “Next time, can we buy Skittles? I love
Skittles because I can share them with you, and you won’t be so hungry,” he stated, chocolate staining his adorably dimpled
face.
“Sure, honey. Next time, I’ll make sure we get Skittles so we can share.” My stomach grumbled again in anticipation.
His face warmed, snuggling against me as the streetlights came on behind the gas station. “Mommy, I’m cold.”
I handed him the blanket we found behind a thrift store, and he snuggled immediately under it, using what was left of my
body warmth to keep him cozy. The night’s chill air ran underneath my thin jacket, and I did my best to keep the tears at bay.
This was not where I pictured my life going. I had no home, no family, or anywhere safe to go. My friends all abandoned me,
and my family was long gone or lived incredibly far away. All I had was Alex, and I would do anything to protect my son...
even eat from the trash again.
Carefully, I pried his warm body away from me, then rose to my feet, peering over the dumpster that smelled like rancid
old food and piss. There was a half-moldy muffin that had been thrown out earlier today, and all day I’d debated on whether to
fish it out and eat it. In shame, I picked up the muffin, unwrapped it from its package, and picked away the mold, forcing myself
to eat the only food in the dumpster that looked partially edible. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about the lavish life
I used to live... four walls safe from the elements, warm clothes on my back, and food that would always fill my belly. I never
had to want for anything when I was with him... but loving him came with a price... a price I wouldn’t pay anymore.
No... I had to do this for Alex, I had to get him away before the abuse turned deadly—before he became the next target. The
muffin soured my stomach as I snuggled back into the box, curling against my son, who whimpered in his sleep. Shivers and
goosebumps peppered my skin as I desperately tried to shut my eyes, but every sound had me on edge. One day, someone
would find us back here, and then what?
Would I lose Alex forever?
Would they give him back to him?
Would I be arrested for child endangerment?
The fear of the unknown consumed my every thought, deafening my ears as the consequences of my actions raced to catch
up with me. I couldn’t do this much longer. I was either going to die out here protecting my son, or die at his hand. Either way,
death seemed to be breathing down my neck, just waiting for me to slip up and make the wrong move. But that day wouldn’t be
today. Today, my son got to eat something, and even though the muffin made my stomach feel queasy, it was enough food to
suffice for another day—at least for now.
 2
The chair stood no chance against my Hulk-like temper. Picking the fragile thing up, I hurled it across the room, watching in
sick satisfaction as it fractured and splintered from the blow.
“Clash, calm the fuck down!” Skid yelled.
Rage consumed me as I grabbed a table by its edges, flipping it violently until it was on its back. One of the sweet butts
screamed, and quickly fled the room, but I was seeing too much red to notice which girl it was. “Calm down! You’re asking me
to calm down? Three of our men just up and drove off in the middle of the night, one of them was our fucking so-called Prez,
all to chase after the two bitches responsible for tearing this club apart, and you’re asking me to calm down? Why aren’t you
angrier?” I turned to face all my brothers who were standing there staring at me like I completely lost my mind.
“All of you should be in an uproar over this shit! And you!” I growled, turning on Priest. “This is your fucking fault! You
should’ve kept your stupid mouth shut. The club was just starting to piece itself back together, and now we’re all fractured
again.”
Priest shrugged his shoulders. “We were still fractured, Clash. We just got good at hiding it.”
“Yeah, well, I was ready to move on from all this shit. Now he’s God only knows where, attempting to bring back the
temptress that destroyed our club. What if she comes back, huh? Are we all just going to welcome her back with open arms,
singing Kumbaya by the campfire as we become one big, fucked up polyamorous family? Because frankly, I’m not interested in
re-kindling anything with her. I got enough bitches around here to satisfy any craving for pussy I may have.”
“You sound like Sabbath,” Ranger exclaimed.
“Shut the fuck up, Ranger. You know as well as I do that the second that girl returns; all hell is going to suddenly break
loose again.”
“May—maybe not,” Sandman stuttered from his chair. “Sabb—Sabbath was the r—root of all the tr—trouble, not her.”
Turning to Skid, I smirked. “Tell that to Warrant.”
Skid glared at me. “Watch your mouth, Clash.”
Rolling my eyes, I returned to my soapbox with my chest puffed out and a true purpose. “If Shasta Hall returns to this club,
it’s going to be a big mistake. Wherever that girl goes, trouble follows.”
Ranger cleared his throat. “There wouldn’t have been any trouble if you had just let her and Snyder sneak around and not
try to throw your dick into the mix as well. You’re just as much to blame for the trouble in the club as she is. If not more. Hell,
if you had left them alone, maybe none of this would’ve happened at all. Warrant would still be alive, and we could’ve
overthrown Sabbath the proper way, stripping him of his rank and patch, instead of dismembering his miserable corpse and
scattering it all over Austin.”
Waving him off, I continued my rant. “I’m just saying that bringing her back will be a huge mistake. We had our fun. She left
the club. Why kick a dead horse?”
“Because Snyder actually loves her,” Priest answered. “And in order for him to lead this club, he needed closure. That’s
why I gave him her location. They all needed to figure this shit out for the sake of the club.”
In a fit of frustration, I threw up my hands. “Forsaking the club in the process. This is bullshit and you all know it. Our Prez
abandoned us when we needed him the most, taking two of our men with him. What happens if the Crows decide to attack us
now, huh? Do you think we even have a fighting chance with three of our members missing?”
Skid took a step forward and cleared his throat. “Maybe I can help with that a little?”
All eyes turned to him as he pulled out his phone and fired off a text.
“Who the hell are you texting, Skid?”
My eyes narrowed as an amused smile quirked the corners of his mouth.
“Some reinforcements,” he said cryptically, just as his phone dinged with a reply.
“Well, while you fuckers figure all this shit out, I’m going for a goddamn drive.”
“Yeah, you need to cool off,” Ranger agreed. “Go take a ride; clear your head.”
In an angry huff, I stomped from the room, pissed off that my club was so eager to follow a man that was quick to abandon
us all.
He left us for a girl?
Who the fuck does that to their own brothers?
He didn’t deserve that patch on his chest, and the way everyone kept backing him was maddening.
For twenty minutes, I found myself lost on the open road, doing my best to keep my head even though I was on the verge of
losing it all.
My tank needed a splash, so I pulled into a gas station parking lot to fill up, and maybe grab something to eat.
The man behind the counter greeted me when I entered, but his eyes were trained on the head of a small boy, who was
awkwardly staring at the candy bars in the candy section.
I grabbed a drink and a bag of chips, then rounded the corner to get a Snickers bar, when I saw the kid grab a bag of Skittles
and shove it into his pants. He then grabbed a granola bar and did the same, stuffing at least seven things of food in his shirt and
pants before eyeing the door.
The guy behind the counter and I shared a look, both of us knowing he was about to run.
He couldn’t have been more than five or six, and was seriously about to rob the store of all its sweets.
Where were his parents?
Why was he alone?
“Hey, kid, you gonna pay for all that?” I asked.
He jumped at the sound of my voice, cowering just a tad when his small eyes rounded and his gaze traveled up my long legs
and up to my face.
A bag of chips plopped out of his shirt, and tears instantly formed in his eyes. You could tell that this was probably the first
and only time he’d ever tried to steal something.
“Hey, don’t cry. Where’s your mom?”
The kid sniffed. “Around the corner behind the big dumpster.”
I fell to a knee, meeting the kid at eye level. “Does she know you’re here?”
He shook his head. “My mommy doesn’t sleep much anymore, so I didn’t want to wake her up because I was hungry.” He
frowned. “I’m sorry, Mister. I wanted to pay, but I’m so hungry and have no money.”
“Tell you what, Kid. How about I pay for all this food, and maybe even some for your mom? Does that sound okay? That
way, the man behind the counter stays happy, and you don’t get into trouble.”
“Okay.” He rubbed at his nose. It was red and dripping snot. He looked malnourished and a bit sickly, like he hadn't eaten
in weeks.
After paying for the kid’s pocketed food, I followed him out of the store, holding a cup of coffee for his mom and a banana
muffin, which he said was her favorite.
We came to a stop by a big dumpster that was propped up behind an old building. There was a large cardboard box back
there and a set of feet hanging out of it, covered by a tattered and ripped blanket.
“Mommy, I got us food!” the little boy shouted.
The feet began to stir, then the box started to move as a woman backed out, her mouth dropping when she saw me standing
there with her son.
“Alex, what did you do?”
“Nothing, Mommy. I was hungry and this nice man bought us food. He got you coffee and your favorite muffin, and I got
Skittles!”
The woman stared up at me with curious eyes, but it was hard to see her underneath the dirt and grime that was all over her
face. Her hair was matted and dirty, and she seemed frightened, cold, and standoffish.
“Hi,” I said, handing her the coffee.
She eyed my cut and grimaced, but she took the coffee from me without hesitation.
“Thank you, but you really didn’t have to do that.”
“Actually, I did. Your son was about to shoplift if I didn’t step in.”
 Her eyes widened. “Alex, what were you thinking? You know better than that!”
His smile faded into a frown. “I was hungry, Mommy. I’m sorry. I was going to pay the man back after I found enough
pennies on the street.”
She frowned, looking up at me with nothing but guilt and shame in her eyes. Then she just broke down, clutching her son so
tight, he could barely breathe.
“Don’t cry again, Mommy. It’ll be okay. Look at all this yummy food! We won’t have to eat from dumpsters today.”
The woman’s eyes were filled with despair and loss. She silently begged me not to judge her for their situation, but who
was I to pass judgment on a single mom just trying to survive in this world?
“Thank you for the food,” she whispered. “That was a nice thing for you to do.”
I shrugged. “What can I say? I have a soft spot for kids with toothy grins and SpongeBob T-shirts.”
“It’s his favorite shirt.”
Alex laughed. “Mommy, it’s my only shirt.”
She went stark still as she warily looked back up at me, the shame returning, her shoulders slouching in defeat.
Everything from earlier quickly faded away, and something came over me that I couldn’t quite explain. It was a carnal need
to protect and shelter them, to give them everything they needed to survive.
“Pack your things,” I demanded, giving the woman a stern look.
The woman’s tear-filled eyes met mine, and she suddenly looked very afraid.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s supposed to drop below freezing tonight, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to let the two of you stay out here in the
cold. So, pack your things.”
The woman looked like a deer in headlights. “I don’t understand. I don’t even know who you are.”
“Look, lady, your son is cold and hungry, and you both look like you haven’t showered in weeks. I got a big loft with plenty
of room, food, and a nice hot shower calling your name. So, take advantage of my hospitality, before I suddenly have a change
of heart.”
“I don’t understand...” she said weakly. “Why are you helping us? You don’t even know who we are.”
I shrugged again. “Like I said before, I guess I have a soft spot for kids with toothy grins and SpongeBob T-shirts.”
She gave her son a look, then nodded. “Okay, but just for one night.”
Nodding, I pulled my phone out and ordered a Lyft. There was no way both of them could fit on my bike.
“What’s your name?” she asked, falling into step behind me.
“The name’s Chuck, but most people just call me Clash.”
She eyed my cut curiously, then softly said, “I’m Gina, and this is my son Alex.”
Alex smiled. It was one that was nothing but teeth and happiness—one that broke down every hard wall I erected around
my heart. “Mister, do you have a TV?”
“I do,” I said with a smile. “A big one.”
The boy’s face lit up. “Mommy, did you hear that? The man says he has a TV! I can watch SpongeBob again.”
Gina laughed, but you could still see the shame in her eyes. “Well, maybe if you’re a real good boy, he’ll let you watch
some SpongeBob.”
Alex shot me the hugest smile, one that tugged on every heart string I had. Something told me I’d let this kid watch all the
SpongeBob in the world if he asked for it.
The sudden realization made me wonder how one kid and his mother could make a cold heart like mine suddenly feel so
soft after years of sitting in my chest like a brick of hardened coal. It was an odd feeling, one that I didn’t particularly like, but I
ignored it, knowing that right now these two souls probably needed me more than I would ever need them.
 3
I must be fucking crazy, or desperate, or maybe I’m both.
What the fuck has come over me?
Why the hell am I getting in a car, following some hunky biker to God only knows where?
Hunky?
Well, that came out of nowhere.
Damn it, Gina, pull yourself together, woman.
If I thought Alex’s father was bad, Clash had to be ten times worse. I’ve heard the stories about bikers and the destruction
that comes with them. This guy was definitely six feet of pure trouble. It didn’t matter that his hazel eyes were driving every
engine inside me crazy. Like a vehicle spiraling out of control, all dash lights on, and everything malfunctioning. His hazel eyes
dismantled me, creating havoc inside of me.
Muscles flexed, he held the car door open for us, frowning the entire time. He looked grumpy as hell, but for some reason,
there was a softness to his eyes, one that had me making the craziest move I’d ever made.
“Follow me,” he informed the Lyft driver. He then shoved a wad of cash in the guy’s hand. “This should cover it.”
The man in the front seat nodded, his pitiful eyes meeting mine in the rear-view mirror as Clash closed the door. The
second he mounted that bike, my ovaries started panting like wild dogs. Jesus, why was a man getting on a bike so fucking
sexy? Knock it off, Gina.
The man in the front seat cleared his throat. “Are you okay, Ma’am? Should I call the police? Are you in danger?”
Danger? Yes… but not by him. At least I don’t think so.
“No, sir, but thank you for asking.”
He didn’t seem convinced, but he continued to follow Clash down the winding streets.
Alex was a jumping ball of excitement as we rode down the road, staring at all the houses with eager eyes. “Mommy, can I
take a shower first?”
“Of course you can, baby.” I kissed the top of his head, my nose scrunching up at the garbage smell wafting off my small
child. I didn’t dare take a sniff of myself; I was quite certain I was even worse.
We pulled up in a fancy neighborhood in front of a condo that seemed massive. He lived here?
The Lyft driver gave me a weary smile and handed me a card. “This is the number for a human trafficking officer. If you
feel like you two are in danger, call this number as soon as possible.”
Trafficking?
Holy shit! I didn’t even think about that.
Before I could change my mind, the man sped off, leaving me standing there with my small son next to a big burly biker.
“Come on,” Clash grumped, stomping up the steps to his condo.
 We entered what was probably the cleanest house I had ever seen. Did a man actually live here? A gross thought bubbled
in my stomach, and I had to keep myself from throwing up. Was he married? Was I invading another woman’s home and
admiring her husband with lustful eyes?
“This is where you live?”
Clash shook his head. “I own the place, but I don’t actually live here. I live down at the clubhouse with my brothers. This is
just where I crash when I need mental health days.”
“Oh.” I could feel the frown taking over my face. “So, your wife lives here then?”
He laughed. “Do I look like the type of man who is married?”
He definitely didn’t.
“I guess not.”
The way his face lit up proudly made me question him even more. Alex’s dad had a similar conceit to him as well, one that
I didn’t particularly enjoy.
“Anyway, this is the house. You and Alex make yourselves at home. The shower is upstairs in the loft, the remote is on the
table. I’m not sure what food I have, but help yourself to anything you like. That couch pulls out into a bed. Or you can sleep
upstairs in mine. Either way, I don’t care.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked curiously. “You’re just going to leave two strangers in your home like this?”
He eyed me peculiarly, mouth ticking up into the slightest smile. “I think I can trust you not to rob me blind. You look
desperate, not stupid. I’m pretty sure you can see I’m not the type of guy you should be messing with.”
Gulping, I nodded my head in agreement.
“Good, now that we got that settled, I’m going out. If you guys need a change of clothing, I think I have some shirts in the
dresser upstairs. My boxers would be way too big for Alex, but you look like you’d fit in them just fine.” His left eyebrow
raised, along with his smile. His innuendo did not go unnoticed. His confidence was rather infuriating.
He shot Alex a look. “How old is he?”
“Four, almost five. His birthday is in two months.”
“He’s rather small for a five-year-old.”
“I know.”
His jaw ticked ever so slightly before his eyes perused my body.
“You’re pretty small, too. When was the last time you two had a decent meal?”
Shrugging, I picked at my skin. “I can’t remember, to be honest.”
He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he moved toward the door. “Don’t sleep in my bed without taking a
shower first. You smell disgusting.”
“Excuse me…” The door slammed in my face before I could even get out my comeback. Who the fuck does he think he is?
Then the smell hit my nose. Putrid garbage and unclean clothing wafted through my nostrils, making me almost gag.
“Come on, Alex, we both need to take a shower.”

Alex giggled as he came out of the shower covered in a large towel that seemed to engulf his whole body. “This towel is
bigger than me!”
I fished out an old white T-shirt from the dresser and pulled it over his head.
“Once Mommy takes a shower, I’ll wash your clothes so you can have clean underwear on. This should cover you up for
now.”
He nodded, laughing even harder when the T-shirt draped over his body and fell way past his knees. “It’s like a dress!” he
squealed in excitement. He stuck his head out of one of the arm holes and grinned. “Look, Mommy, I can see you.”
His smile was contagious, and before I could stop myself, I was giggling too. Fixing his shirt again, I ushered him over to
the couch, covered him with a blanket, and turned on the TV. After surfing through the channels, I actually found SpongeBob
playing. It was like a TV miracle or something.
“SpongeBob!” he shrieked. “I can’t believe it, Mommy. It’s actually on the TV, just like the man said.”
“It is, honey. Now, you sit here and watch SpongeBob while Mommy takes a shower, okay? Don’t open the door for
anyone. I’m sure when Mr. Clash comes back, he’ll have a key. And try not to touch anything. We can’t afford to fix something
if you happen to break it.” Alex was a notorious mischief maker. I had to Alex-proof my house just so my expensive
decorations didn’t get ruined. The only thing of value I had was my wedding ring, but I was saving it for an emergency. Not that
living on the street for the past few weeks didn’t constitute as an emergency. But I was finding it hard to part with. It was the
only thing I had that even remotely showed I was once part of a happy family. An expensive façade symbolizing the happiness I
faked every day. I wanted to pawn it, gathering the money I needed to head to Vegas, but I was afraid of calling my sister, and
was waiting for a better time. She was all I had left.
Alex yawned. “Okay, Mommy.”
The warm spray hit me as the most glorious water I ever felt cascaded down my body. Dirt and grime shucked off me like
layers of an onion, swirling around the drain at my feet, as weeks of living on the streets disappeared down the drain. A
shower never felt this good before. Reaching for the soap on the ledge, I took in the manly scent, overwhelming my senses with
the smell of sandalwood and leather.
Did he really smell like this?
Why did this smell so fucking good?
Using a washrag, I lathered it in the body wash, dragging it across every inch of my exposed skin, embracing the scent and
the cleanliness it brought with it. Every part of my body was scrubbed clean, even the weak parts of me, like my legs that were
slightly buckling and losing strength. The cloth dropped to the floor as the spray beat down on me, my whole body giving out
beneath me as I slunk to the porcelain floor, curling my knees up against my chest until I was sitting in a fetal position. For the
first time in weeks, I felt safe, clean, and free… but then the tears came on without warning, as did the flashbacks of the night I
left my husband for good.
“You stupid bitch!” he shouted, slamming me against the wall. “Do you call this dinner? It fucking tastes like shit, just
like your pussy.”
“Please, Eric. Stop! Alex will hear you.”
He looked feral as his hands curled around my throat, squeezing until I barely could breathe. “Do you think I care? You
need to be taught a lesson, Gina. I expect a four-course meal when I get home, not this boxed garbage.”
Tears pricked my eyes. We were low on food, and I didn’t have the chance to get to the grocery store today. Now I
wished I would have. At least then he wouldn’t be so angry.
“And what is this?” he growled, gripping my hair, that was freshly done in the salon. “I told you I like your hair long.
Do you think I want to be married to a man?” He yanked on my hair, forcing my head to the side.
The stylist only cut two inches off it, leaving it well past my shoulders and down my back. Look like a man. I surely did
not.
“God, look at you, Gina. You’ve let yourself go. You’re getting fatter and uglier every single day. And you wonder why I
have to satisfy my dick by fucking other women? It’s because of this. You look fucking hideous. It’s because I married a
woman not even fit to lick my shoes. I would’ve been better off marrying my dog than this disgrace of a woman.” The whole
time, his punishing grip got even tighter, and I was starting to see spots. “Get off your fat ass and go to the store. I want a
decent fucking meal tonight. Mac and cheese? Hotdogs? Who do you think I am?”
The worst mistake of my life.
“Eric, please, you’re hurting me.”
He smiled evilly. “If you think this is bad. Just wait for your punishment later.”
Tiny footsteps raced up the hall, and Eric finally let go of me.
“Mommy, are you okay?”
Gasping for breath, I forced out a smile, clutching at my throat. That was my point of weakness. “Y—Yes,” I stuttered
out, barely able to form words. “I’m f—fine.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Alex came up and wrapped me in a hug, his fragile arms curling around my mid-section.
“Go to your room, Alex. Now!” Eric barked.
Alex hesitated for a split second too long, and I saw the hand of wrath raise.
Stepping between them, I took the blow, his fist hitting my face and sending me straight to the floor.
 “Mommy!” Alex screamed, cowering away from his father.
“Go to your room, Alex. Please,” I begged.
This time, there was no hesitation, only fear. He scampered off, leaving me a crying mess begging for mercy at the
monster’s feet.
“Serves you right,” he said with a laugh. “Might want to pick up some make-up while you’re at it. Your eye is looking
kind of purple.”
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
FUCK HIM!
I kept chanting it in my head, reminding myself to stay strong.
He tugged at his tie, loosening it along with his cuffs as he made his way to our bedroom. “I expect filet mignon and
asparagus when I get out of the shower. Here’s a hundred bucks. Go make yourself useful and head to the store.”
My fists clenched as I reluctantly rose to my feet, staring at the floor the entire time. I wanted him gone; I wanted him
to die. But I knew I was too weak right now to fight back. I just had to appease him a little longer.
When I heard the water start, I rushed to Alex’s room. He was sobbing on the floor, looking absolutely terrified. “I
didn’t mean to make him mad again, Mommy. I was just worried about you. I heard him yelling again, and I wanted to
protect you.”
“It’s okay, Alex. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” SpongeBob played on the TV behind him. It was the
episode where SpongeBob was trying to make himself stronger by working out. I don’t know why that stupid cartoon got to
me the way it did, but it made me want to be stronger as well. Strong enough to leave Eric forever. Strong enough to save
me and my son before it was too late.
“Come on, Alex. Mommy needs to go to the store.”
Alex followed me out of the house and to my car. I buckled him in the back seat, then quickly got behind the wheel,
clutching it for dear life. I had to go… this had to end now.
The grocery store was long gone.
The town’s lights were well behind me.
Once I crossed the state line, I abandoned the car at a truck stop, managing to find a nice woman truck driver who was
willing to give us a ride.
“You okay, ma’am?”
“No,” I cried out weakly. “But I hope eventually I will be.”
She nodded her head, noticing the bruises around my throat and my eye. “Want me to take you to a police station?”
I shook my head. “No, I just need to get out of town.” The police didn’t care. Not when his brother was the chief of
police. He was untouchable… and I was just the woman they mocked when they thought I couldn’t hear. But I heard them. I
heard every damning word.
“Well, I’m driving to Austin. Is that far enough?”
I nodded, my entire body slouching in defeat as Alex settled against me. We both were exhausted, the mental strife I felt
seemed to weigh a zillion pounds.
“No, but it will do for now. Thank you.” And before she had even made it two miles down the road, my eyes closed,
succumbing to the weariness that was already plaguing my body.

A soft knock on the door stirred me out of the mental prison I was held captive in. I don’t know how long I’d been sitting in
the shower like this, but it was definitely long enough to prune my skin.
“You okay in there?” a gruff voice asked behind the door.
“Yeah, sorry. I fell asleep.”
“Food’s here,” he said in annoyance. “Hurry up before it gets cold.”
 Was that an order or a request? I suddenly felt like Belle hiding from the Beast.
My body shivered as I stepped out of the shower that had turned frigid and unwelcoming. The warmth of the towel was a
welcomed feeling as I wrapped it around my quivering body and crawled into the clothing I had scrounged up from one of his
drawers.
He lied… his boxers didn’t fit me either. My curves barely held them in place, so I restrained them with a hair tie, tying the
side up like a ponytail.
The room was empty when I stepped outside, and I heard voices coming from downstairs.
“So, Alex, who’s your favorite character?”
“Sandy Cheeks.”
“Why her?”
“Because she reminds me of my mommy. She’s strong, and protective, just like her.”
“Who is your mommy protecting you from?”
Before Alex could answer, I fled down the stairs, interrupting their conversation. A fresh bucket of chicken sat on the table,
along with a few side dishes that looked and smelled absolutely delicious.
“Wow, this smells great.”
Clash’s fork clattered to his plate, and I realized he was staring at me with hungry eyes.
“What?” I asked, horrified there was something wrong with me.
Clash shook his head, picking up his fork to eat again. His silence made me nervous, but I climbed into the chair beside
him, watching Alex as he consumed his food like a ravenous wolf.
“Thank you for dinner, Chuck.”
“It’s Clash. Nobody calls me Chuck.”
The tiny sliver of anger that took over his tone had me recoiling and flinching away from him.
Instant regret passed through his eyes, and his gruff stance waned a bit. “Sorry, I’m just a little touchy about my name.”
“Then why did you tell me it in the first place?”
He looked perplexed, like he didn’t understand it himself. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
Alex grinned as he dug into his mashed potatoes. “Mashed potatoes are my favorite,” he said, stuffing his face.
“Mine too,” Clash agreed, taking a bite of the starchy morsel as well. “But I don’t like the gravy,” he added.
“Mommy says that you should always try new things. Your tastebuds will thank you for it.”
Clash shook his head. “I’ve had it before, bud. I just don’t like it.”
“More for me then,” Alex mumbled through a mouth full of food. “Mommy, eat. You haven’t eaten in three days.”
I could feel Clash’s heated gaze, but I ignored it, refusing to let him know how much he affected me. I took a few bites of
food, but it did the opposite of make me feel good, it made my stomach coil and riot against me.
His heated breath hit my neck as he leaned in. “Take small bites, it will help offset the nausea you must be feeling.”
Surprised that he could read my expression like that, I took another bite of food, my stomach still queasy, but I wasn’t sure
if that was because of my lack of sustenance, or the butterflies that were currently running amok inside of me.
“By the way,” he whispered again. “You clean up well. My clothes look good on you.”
Our eyes met for the briefest of seconds, but I shook the attraction out of my brain. I couldn’t allow myself to fall for him,
not when there was so much he’d never understand about my life.
Goosebumps peppered my skin as his heated breath caressed the nape of my neck. “But they’d look even better on my
floor,” he whispered, sending erotic waves of lustful shock through my body.
Shit! I need to get out of here before it’s too late.
 4
The cutest little blush invaded her cheeks as I slowly pulled away. When I said she cleaned up nice, I wasn’t joking. The
woman was drop dead fucking gorgeous! Long brunette hair, no longer matted and tattered from lack of care, hung wet down
her back, stretching to at least the small of her waist. She had these damn pretty eyes that were like a slate grey, reminding me
of a newly paved street, with the tiniest specks of ice blue mixed within them. Her figure wasn’t exactly skinny, but damn, the
curves on her were to die for. I found myself wondering what it would be like to run my hands over them. She should come
with a warning sign:
Warning: Dangerous Curves Ahead.
Shaking the lustful thoughts from my brain, I turned my focus back on the kid who was gobbling up my food like it was the
only thing he’d ever eaten. He doesn’t look like his mother much. There are a few of her features, like her button nose and
impish smile that seem to be from her DNA, but I’m guessing the kid looks a lot like his father. His skin has an olive tint to it,
somewhat Mediterranean, and unkempt dark, jet-black hair that has a slight curl and sits on his head like a mop. He’s way too
skinny for his age, and definitely needed to get some meat on his bones. But then again, he does have her eyes. The same eyes
that I couldn’t seem to break away from.
“So, what are you running from?” I asked, knowing damn well she probably won’t tell me.
“My daddy,” Alex piped in, not at all fazed by his words. “He’s mean. He hits mommy.”
Instantly, my need to protect her overwhelmed me. I may be an asshole, but hitting women is something I don’t stand for. I
never liked how Sabbath manhandled Shasta the way he did. If I could’ve taken him on myself, I would have, but Snyder
stepped in to save the day like always.
Fuck him.
Fuck her too.
She was supposed to belong to all of us, and now he was off claiming her as his own. I really hope Wasp gives him a run
for his money, and the bitch picks him instead. Wouldn’t that be the best kind of karma to come around? Poor little Snydie
wouldn’t even know what to do with himself if she turned him down and went for Waspman instead.
The fear and despair in Gina’s eyes brought me out of my thoughts, making me feel bad for her all over again.
“Alex, you shouldn’t be telling people that!” she scolded, the embarrassment evident in her defeated posture and broken
eyes.
“Why, Mommy? It’s the truth. You always say to tell the truth no matter what.”
Her face softened just a tad. “I do say that, don’t I?”
I wanted to ask more about this ex of hers, mainly his location so I can eradicate him from the planet. But I kept my mouth
fucking shut, knowing damn well if I got involved anymore than I already have, it would be detrimental to my dick’s health.
Getting attached to anyone was not something I was game for. This was temporary. I’d only let them stay until she had the
chance to get on her feet.
Gina’s eyes widened when she finally realized that Alex was wearing new clothes. “What are those?” she asked, eyeing the
bright blue SpongeBob shirt, new shorts, and underwear.
“Clothes.” My response was gruff. No need in her thinking I’m some sort of knight in shining armor, when all I wanted was
to get into her pants—or boxers—my boxers, to be exact. It was the least she could do since I let her take a shower, invade my
home, and commandeer my television.
A prince was something I was not, and I was definitely not looking for that happily ever after shit she probably
romanticized about. Fucking and ducking is all that mattered to me. Besides, she’s just getting out of a fucked-up marriage,
getting involved with chick baggage is not something I’d be interested in. This Lewd Outlaw rides solo.
“Where did they come from?” Gina asked in intrigue.
“The store.”
She nibbled on her lip, making my dick hard just thinking about what those lips would look like wrapped around my cock.
She must’ve noticed my heated gaze, because she instantly stopped her incessant nibbling, and focused her attention to the three
shopping bags sitting on the couch.
“What’s all that?”
Smiling proudly, I motioned to the bags of clothing. “Clothes… for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. You needed new clothes as well.”
She seemed put off by the gesture, like I was overstepping in some way. Maybe I was a bit, but who the fuck cares? They
both needed new clothing, and I’m a whiz at guessing a woman’s measurements.
“That’s hilarious,” she said, followed directly by mock laughter. “A man like you actually thinks he knows what size of
clothing a woman like me would wear.”
This was where the conversation got fun.
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I grinned, knowing damn well she wasn’t prepared for my secret capabilities. My eyes
perused her body, hidden by my oversized shirt, but beneath it, I knew exactly what she was hiding.
“Well, sweetheart, you’re definitely not a size zero,” I said, chuckling. “And judging by those banging curves you got going
on, I’m going to say that you’re about a size ten in jeans and a medium in dresses. Am I right?”
Her cheeks flushed pink.
“Yeah…”
“And those tits you got are a good C cup. Round and perfect for holding.” I shot a look over toward her kid, but he was too
busy watching SpongeBob to focus on what I was saying.
“Stop staring at my boobs,” she growled, her voice lowered so her son couldn’t hear her. Her glare was like an ice pick,
sharp and ready for stabbing, and currently narrowing by the minute.
I probably should be watching my mouth around her son, but living in a clubhouse made it incredibly difficult to be good,
not when so many temptations flitted about, and the hard life style was tough as nails.
“Hard to miss them, sweetheart. Those voluptuous things are taunting me through the wet material. By the way, your nips
are showing. A little cold, are we?”
She covered her nipples with her hands, her glare intensifying, warring with the raging blush that was now flushing every
part of her skin.
“Just because you think you know my size, doesn’t give you the right to go to the store and buy me or my son clothing.”
“Why are you so upset? So what if I bought you and the kid some clothes? You look like you could use something new.
What I got is better than the tattered rags you were wearing before.”
Without warning, she sprung to her feet, rushing toward the bags on the couch. “How dare you buy me clothes without my
permission! Who the fuck do you think you are? I bet all of them are…” Her words caught in her throat as she unearthed the
first outfit, and she instantly bit her tongue.
“Are what? Slutty? I’m an asshole, sweetheart, not a monster.” I specifically picked out those jeans because I knew they
would be modest, but also accentuate those round ass cheeks of hers. I matched it with a black top, one that wasn’t revealing at
all, but comfortable and something she could move around in. The dress I bought was pretty and something she could wear to a
job interview, which I’m guessing she hadn’t been able to do since she took off from her ex. It was longer, with pretty flowers
on it. I thought it would look cute on her, so I bought it impulsively. Now the underwear I bought her was an entirely different
story. The black lace ensemble was definitely going to be for my enjoyment later on when I convinced her that having sex with
me would be a life-changing experience for her.
She shot me a look, stuffing the black lingerie into the bag before her son could see it. “You still overstepped by doing
this.”
“Sure, sweetheart, keep telling yourself that. From where I sit, you look like you need my help more than you’d like to
admit. If you don’t want my help, there’s the door. You can take the clothes with you, consider it proof that big bad bikers really
do have a heart.”
She was back to lip nibbling again. My aching dick can’t take much more of this…
Her words were like poison darts, hitting me square in the chest. “And what do you expect in return, huh? For me to drop
on my knees and blow you as repayment? I can’t repay you for this, Clash. Shit, I don’t even have a dime to my name., and I
sure as fuck won’t be made into some cheap two cent hooker just to appease whatever inflating ego you got going on. This was
a pity purchase… and I don’t need your pity.”
She threw the bag down, and I found her brash response a little refreshing. I don’t know why.
“Damn, and you say I’m full of myself? Honey, look in the mirror. An hour ago, you looked like a dirty street urchin that my
dick wouldn’t have touched even if you had begged me for it. I don’t want you, Gina. All I want is for your kid to be safe and
not scared for his life. You’re lucky I found you and not the cops. Just imagine what they would’ve done. I’m guessing your
husband would love to find out that his wife is dragging his kid through the streets, barely feeding him.”
The air rushed over her palm as it connected with my cheek. The sting was more startling than anything. I knew I crossed a
line, but coming back from it now was going to be hard.
“Fuck you!” she screeched. “Don’t worry, Clash, we’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.”
“But, Mommy, I like it here. Mr. Clash is nice, and he bought me new clothes and toys.” He held up the white teddy bear I
bought for him at the store and hugged it tightly. “I don’t want to live on the streets anymore.”
Fuck, this kid was literally going to be the death of me.
“Well, Mr. Clash has his own life to live, one that doesn’t involve taking care of us. Thank you for your hospitality, Clash,
but like I said, this will be the one and only night we will be spending together.”
“Suit yourself,” I said nonchalantly. “It’s no skin off my back whether you stay or go.”
That wasn’t entirely true. The thought of Gina and Alex finding their way back behind the dumpster made my stomach sick.
I barely just met the duo, but their well-being was something I actually kind of cared about. Why? I had no fucking idea. But I
did care.
Taking a massive bite of food, I shoved some more chicken in my mouth, watching the frustrated woman curiously. It was
obvious she didn’t trust me, not that I could actually blame her for it. If I saw me on the street, I’d be scared too. But the
desperation in her eyes spoke volumes of why she was actually here. She was tired, hungry, defeated, and all out of options.
Her only choice was to come home with me because she knew she wouldn’t have lasted much longer on the streets if she
didn’t. Her son was practically wasting away, and she wasn’t looking good either.
She hovered near the table, eyeing the food with hunger in her eyes.
“You should sit down and eat something, Gina.”
“No,” she said defiantly, crossing her arms. “I told you I don’t need your pity.”
“You’re nothing but skin and bones. You need to eat something.”
She shook her head vehemently, obviously not budging. “I’m fine.”
“I said sit down!” I ordered, that gruff tone taking over, and my temper getting the best of me.
With widened eyes, she instantly obeyed, the fight in her waning and fear taking over as she plopped into the seat and
picked up her fork with a shaking hand.
Shit, I did it again. I didn’t want to frighten her, I was just angry that she wouldn’t eat, even though I could hear her
stomach grumbling from across the room.
I needed to remember to be less brash with my words and a little softer with my tone. “Please,” I added, my tone less
menacing. “I don’t want it to get cold.”
She stayed quiet.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
In the meekest voice I’d ever heard, she whispered, “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it.”
My heart clenched, realizing I made her feel like she was back with her ex again. How do I make up for that? It’s obvious
she’s scared as hell of me now, and there was nothing I could do to fix it.
We ate the rest of the meal in silence, but I noticed she was sitting up a little straighter and there were legit tears forming in
her eyes.
Good job, Clash. You upset an already broken woman. Way to go, asshole.
 5
I knew Clash wasn’t trying to be an asshole. His gesture of buying us clothes actually warmed my heart to him more. But
the second he yelled at me, flashbacks of Eric came full force, and I instantly went back into frightened housewife mode.
Make sure the house stays clean.
Only cook four course meals.
No boxed mac and cheese.
Always have your pussy ready.
Take the punch.
Don’t let Alex see.
Protect him always.
It was like rapid fire, the words cycling through my head, reminding me to be the doting and always helpful wife.
But this wasn’t Louisiana, and he wasn’t Eric. I shouldn’t have so obediently sat in the chair and picked up the fork, but his
boisterous voice frightened me, bringing me back to a world I was accustomed to.
After eating, my stomach felt sick. I rushed up to the bathroom and spewed out everything in my stomach, the rich food
getting to me.
I felt a massive hand curl behind my neck, and I instantly tensed up, knowing what came next… choking. But the choking
didn’t come. Instead, Clash pulled back my hair, holding it for me as I finished vomiting in his perfectly clean toilet.
“I’ll clean up after myself,” I replied weakly between wretches.
“Don’t worry about it.” There was a long pause before he spoke. “You pregnant?”
Was I? Shit! When was the fucking last time I had a period? When was the last time I had sex? I thought back to my time
with Eric, realizing it was over a month ago that he last touched me. He had me beg for it, telling me that an ugly hag like me
needed to beg to have anyone touch her. Eric always made sure I knew how lucky I was to have him. How I should be thanking
God for being married to him.
“I don’t know.” My body shuddered at the thought, hoping I wasn’t about to bring another child into this world that carried
that monster’s DNA. “I hope not.”
I hoped that my illness was due to my lack of nourishment and not because I was carrying the Devil’s child inside of me
once again.
“Stay here,” Clash instructed, quickly leaving the room.
I heard his front door open and close, and then his bike start up outside. Where the hell is he going?
Ten minutes later, my body weak and exhausted from throwing up, I fell down next to his toilet, using the wall behind it to
keep me propped up while I awaited his return.
He entered the bathroom with a brown bag in hand, throwing it at my feet. “Figure it out,” he grumbled before exiting the
room.
Lethargically, I reached for the bag, pulling out the at home pregnancy test from inside of it.
Where did this man come from? And why was he being so nice to me?
My heart thrummed inside my chest as I waited for the results, tears pooling in my eyes. I’d been safe, secretly taking birth
control for the last three years just so I wouldn’t get pregnant by him again. How did it fail? Why was this my fucking life?
A soft knock on the door had me jumping, and I hugged myself a little tighter.
“You okay in there?” Clash asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
I held back a sob, choking out the words, “I can’t bring myself to look at it.”
The door opened slowly, and Clash stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He stared at the stick on the counter
before his gaze dropped down to the spot where I was curled into a fetal position on the floor. Fear was a bitch that liked to
fuck with my anxiety.
“Do you care if I look?”
I shook my head, not able to hold back the tears anymore.
Examining the stick, he laid it back on the counter, and sunk to the floor beside me, allowing me to rest my head on his
shoulder. Why it brought me so much comfort, I didn’t understand. But it felt like I needed him in that moment. I needed his
support.
“It only shows one line,” he told me.
It was like a giant weight was lifted off me, and I sagged against him, sobbing even more. These were relieved, happy tears
now.
“Thank God,” I whispered, my cries muffled against his shirt. “I love my son, but the thought of having another child with
that asshole, scares the ever-loving shit out of me.”
I felt his arm curl around me. This complete stranger… a big, supposedly bad, burly biker, was comforting me in the
middle of his bathroom like we’d been friends for years. Like he actually gave a fuck about me. I knew that was impossible
since we just met, but it still felt nice in that moment.
“He really fucked you up, didn’t he?” Clash asked, his voice softened and not his usual grump.
“More than you will ever know.”
He chuckled. “I could kill him for you.”
Sleep started evading my thoughts, and I barely heard him speaking. Everything about the last few weeks was catching up to
me, and it was like I was suddenly overwhelmed by it all.
“That’d be nice,” I said sleepily, yawning as my eyes fluttered closed.
At some point, I felt myself flying through the air, then the softness of fluffy clouds enveloping me. Flying is so much fun. I
wish I could’ve learned to fly a few years ago, then maybe I wouldn’t have stayed with Eric as long as I did.

The heat of the sun beat down on my face, and through the slats on the blinds, beams of light invaded my peaceful sleeping
space, stirring me awake. Beside me, a small body was curled up, and the cutest little snore filled the room.
A ceiling fan swirled above my head, and a fan on the table beside me, whirred, moving from side to side. I was in a bed—
an unfamiliar one—but a bed, nonetheless. It was massive, at least a king, and the sheets and mattress felt like I was lying on
fluffy clouds. It was then I realized that I never flew last night. I was carried to bed, and covered in fluffy cloud-like sheets, but
by who, I couldn’t remember. I was still waking up from my sleep coma, barely able to focus on a single thought.
Sitting up, I was careful not to disturb Alex as I examined my surroundings. It looked like I was in a loft. The room wasn’t
that big, but there was a bathroom to my right, and a large walk-in closet with a mirrored door next to it. White sheets sat
beneath a black comforter, and on a chair sitting next to the stairwell, was a dress laid out for me, and clothes for my son.
There was a note taped to it that I couldn’t read from the bed.
A clock next to my head said that it was close to eight o’clock, and it made me wonder how long I was asleep for?
The bed dipped as I crawled out from beneath the blankets, making my way over to the dresser and note.
 I washed all your new clothes for you. I figured you’d need some help after passing out the way you did, so I called in a
favor or two. I’ll be back by nine. ~Clash~
It was all coming back to me now. I was on the run, sleeping behind dumpsters with my son to evade my husband that was
probably out there looking for us. Desperation led me to getting in a Lyft and following a biker to his townhome. He bought us
clothes… he bought my son toys… he bought us food.
He was also a pig that probably wanted something in return. Granted, besides a few little comments here and there, he
didn’t act like he wanted anything more than to help me and Alex.
Begrudgingly, I pulled on some of the clothes he bought me, enjoying how soft and warm the fabric felt after nights of living
on the cold, unforgiving streets.
I wasn’t sure why I felt so at home here, but I didn’t feel like running, at least not that second. I meandered into the
bathroom, my heart stopping when I saw the pregnancy stick on the counter of the bathroom, and memories of last night came
roaring back. It was hard to believe that someone like him could be so sweet underneath all that leather, but Eric was sweet
once too, and I paid for that mistake every fucking day since he put a ring on my finger. Was I pregnant again? I couldn’t exactly
remember, so just to be safe, I checked the stick myself.
Only one line. Thank God.
Knowing I wasn’t carrying another child of Eric’s inside me was a good thing. Now I could finish heading to Vegas like I
wanted, meeting up with my sister who lived there. She had no idea I was coming, but at least she was family. And family was
something I’d been lacking since I said I do. Eric forced me to cut off contact with everyone. He didn’t even allow me to go to
my mother’s funeral when she passed away, using the excuse that we didn’t have the money for a last-minute plane ticket. That
was a fucking lie. Just like all the other lies he consistently told me.
She’s just a co-worker.
I bruised my neck on a door knob.
That’s not cum in my shorts.
Perfume? That’s not perfume. It’s aerosol spray from my office bathroom.
Yeah, I never fucking believed his ass, but he sure as hell expected me to. When I finally called him out on his shit, that’s
when the beatings started, putting me in my place once and for all.
After finding my way back down stairs, I meandered into the kitchen, picking through the fridge and cabinets until I had
everything I needed to make us all breakfast. Yes, that meant Clash too. It was the least I could do after everything he did for
me.
If there was one thing I was decent at, it was cooking, and it wasn’t long before I had Belgian waffles, bacon, sausage,
home fries, and scrambled eggs prepared.
Alex must’ve smelled the food because he came bounding down the stairs, white teddy bear in tow, smiling wide when he
saw all the food on the table.
“Mommy! You cooked!”
I laughed as he sat down in front of his plate, his eyes widening like saucers. “Is all this for us?”
My mouth opened to answer him, but the front door broke my concentration, bringing my focus to the godly man that entered
through the doorway.
Clash was covered in sweat, the pebbled perspiration leaking down his face and staining his black T-shirt. He had on grey
sweat pants… and yes, they’re everything girls go gaga over. I could see every inch tented behind the thick fabric.
“Did you make breakfast?” he asked, staring at his table curiously.
“Yes, is that okay?”
He took a step forward, stopping just shy of Alex who was stuffing his face. “Yeah, but why did you make so much?”
I shrugged, knowing the answer was a sinister aftermath of a fucked-up marriage. “A man should always have a four-course
meal waiting for him when he gets home,” I answered robotically, waiting for Clash to sit down before I took my own seat.
My eyes were focused on a broken tile of the floor, knowing that eye-contact showed a strength I didn’t have.
“Hey now, don’t do that.”
Depths of hazel mesmerized me as I weakly lifted my head, getting lost in all the gorgeous features of his face.
“Do what?”
“Treat me like I’m your master. That’s not me, sweetheart. Cook yourself whatever you like, but don’t you ever think that
you have to prepare a huge meal like this for me. I’m cool with hotdogs and mac ‘n’ cheese, shit I’d eat some toast with a cup
of coffee if that’s all you wanted to make. I’m easy to please. But again, this isn’t about me. It’s about you and your son.”
His words shocked the hell out of me. What he was saying was the exact opposite of anything my husband would ever say
to me.
He touched my cheek, and I flinched, too afraid of human contact to enjoy someone being what I think is supposed to be
genuine. I wouldn’t know kindness, or genuine decency if it bit me in the face.
Retracting his hand, he grinned, moving to the seat across from Alex before motioning to the seat at the head of the table.
“Oh no, I can’t sit there.”
“Why?” he asked, that smile kicking up even further.
My teeth worried my lip, not sure how to approach his question without sounding completely crazy. “Only men sit at the
head of the table,” I whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
His smile instantly faded, and before I could react, he was standing up, pulling the chair out for me at the head of the table.
“Nonsense, the head of the table is meant for the one that puts in all the work. That be you, sweetheart.”
Cautiously, I took the seat, my heart stammering inside my chest as I settled in the unfamiliar place at the table. Who the
fuck is this guy?
We sat there eating in awkward silence. Every once in a while, I’d steal a glance his way, only to catch him watching me
eat, barely able to stomach real food. Every time I caught him looking at me, I’d blush, my cheeks heating to insane
temperatures that felt on the brink of combustion.
“So, where are you originally from?” Clash asked, waiting for me to answer. It was an innocent question, but I could tell he
was trying to get information out of me.
He didn’t have to look far, because my son made damn sure he knew everything about us. “We lived in Louisiana. There’s
lots of alligators there and swamps. I like swamps ‘cause they have frogs and bugs. Did you know that frogs will eat bugs?
Mister… I forgot your name.”
Clash chuckled. “It’s Clash.”
“Mr. Clash. Did you know that frogs eat bugs, and alligators eat the frogs, and Mommy says sometimes we eat alligators.
That makes us the top of the food chain.”
“That it does, Alex. You know a lot of neat things.”
Alex nodded, that smile lighting up the entire room. “I like to read, though I don’t know many words. Mommy has to read
me stories, and I like to look at the pictures. I told Mommy that I wanted books for my birthday, but she said we don’t have
money. I told her that’s okay, I don’t need money to have a good birthday. Just her.”
God, how did I get so lucky? There was no way this amazing kid could come from such horrible DNA.
“Well, your mommy and you have been very busy lately. Maybe with my help, we can get some books for your birthday?”
“You don’t have to do that,” I snapped, a little meaner than I probably should have. “What you’re doing—have done, is
more than enough.”
He waved a dismissive hand. “If the kid wants books for his birthday, I’ll give him some books.”
I cried a little, refusing to let my withered tears take shape, as raw emotions encompassed every part of me. This man was
being too nice… nicer than a man like him should be.
“What do you get out of all this?” I questioned, suddenly feeling very concerned.
His brow scrunched in confusion, and he set down his fork, staring at me with gruff eyes. “Nothing.”
I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t. Not when I’d been taught to never trust a man, especially one like him.
“That’s bullshit!” I shouted, making Alex’s eyes widen. “You want something from us—from me. What’s your angle, huh?
Do you plan on buttering me and my son up with presents and food, putting us in a place of contentment, and then when we’re
not looking sell us to the highest bidder?”
He laughed, and I hated the way it made me feel. I was attracted to it, just as much as I was attracted to him. “You’ve got a
few screws loose, lady. I’m just being a nice guy. Why can’t you accept that?”
Slamming my fork on the table, I jumped to my feet, eyes narrowing on the man who was just trying to help us. “Accept it?
You’re a disgusting biker. I know what people like you are like. You’re vulgar, lewd, and prey on the weak. Well, I’m not
falling for it. I know you’re a piece of shit, I can tell just by looking at you and that stupid motorcycle jacket of yours.”
“It’s called a cut.”
“I don’t give a fuck what it’s called. It labels you. You can’t tell me it doesn’t. It shows me just who you are without me
even getting to know you. The sad part is, you almost had me fooled, Clash, but I’m not stupid. I know you’re only pretending
to be nice, the real monster is lurking within, waiting to strike.”
His fists clenched by his side, an action I knew all too well. I’d gone too far, now I was going to get my punishment…
“I’m gonna go,” he said quietly, his rage simmering beneath the surface. “Thank you for breakfast.”
Before I could protest, he was out of his chair, stomping toward the door.
Fucked up wasn’t even a term to describe me… I was a delusional mess, one that probably just fucked up a really good
situation for no reason other than being utterly, emotionally, and terminally afraid.
 6
This is what I get for being nice.
Gina looked at me with the animosity and hate everyone else does. There were a few moments here and there, where I
could’ve sworn she was feeling the same attraction I was, but I was wrong—dead wrong.
She looked at me like I looked at her behind that dumpster… like garbage… like someone unfit to lick her thousand-dollar
shoes.
The worst part of it all, was the fact I couldn’t really blame her. The cut did define me—it stood for a club that was feared
by most in town, making women and children alike run for the hills. I thought she was different, but other than Alex, Gina
compared me to the Devil, one that I’m finding out she wore the ring of. An expensive ring at that.
Why hasn’t the silly woman pawned that shit?
She could fetch a pretty penny for a ring that expensive.
Ugh, why do I even care? She told me what she thought of me. It made me think of Shasta, how the woman was quick to turn
her back on us, damning us all for the abusive ex she lived with for so many years.
Gina was the same…
There was no future for us, not when she was already assuming the worst of me. All I wanted to do was help, and she
thinks I have some hidden agenda.
Maybe I do, but it’s not what she thinks.
Back at the clubhouse, I find myself contemplating every decision I’d ever made, throwing myself into a chair before
motioning for Poison to bring me a drink.
“Prospect, bring me a beer.”
The alcoholic beverage was placed in front of me, and I greedily took it, needing a release from my thoughts.
It wasn’t long before two of my brothers joined me, and one overly eager sweet butt, who found her place on my lap.
“Clash! I’ve missed you,” Tiffany said, snuggling against my chest.
She felt so wrong. Why did she feel so wrong?
“Hey, baby girl. How are you?”
“Horny,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “I could use a good dick right about now.”
It was an inviting offer, but not one I would be entertaining. Why? I had no fucking idea, but just the thought of fucking her
repulsed me.
“Well, there’s a shit ton of them around here, I’m sure someone will help you out.”
She frowned.
Cue the insistent whining. “Clash, why are you rejecting me. You never reject sex.”
“Just not in the mood, Tiffany. Now fuck off.”
 Ranger eyed me curiously, his mouth pulling up just a tad. “What’s got you all pissed off?” he asked, chuckling when I
grabbed his beer from off the table and chased it with mine.
“Nothing,” I growled.
When Tiffany didn’t move from off my lap, and her hand started to work its way down my chest, I lost it, shoving her off of
me. “I said fuck off, Tiffany. Take a hint. I don’t fucking want your pussy right now. Get lost!”
Tears formed in her eyes, but I didn’t give two shits, I had other things on my mind. In a huff, the pretty little sweet butt
stomped off, disappointed I rejected her offer. It was a valid one, but one I wouldn’t be cashing in.
“Anybody hear from Snyder or Wasp?”
Priest nodded. “Yeah, they found Shasta.”
“Whoopie freaking do,” I grumbled, downing both beers simultaneously. Let’s get this buzz going.
“They’ll be heading back next week. First, they have to get to her and Ramona.”
“Fuck them both.” There was a part of me that feared Ramona’s kid could be mine, but then I remembered I barely ever
fucked without a condom, only doing so with Shasta when I let my guard down. Stupid moron.
“When they come back, Clash, you know you need to be nice.”
“Nice?” I threw one of the bottles against the wall, causing a few girls to scream. “I’m done being nice, Ranger. Being nice
hasn’t gotten me anywhere, and frankly, I could give a fuck about Shasta or Ramona, both whores just need to stay away.”
“D—Don’t c—call her th—that,” Sandman stuttered out before hobbling over and taking the seat next to me. “Y—You take
re—rejection l—like a b—b—b—itch.”
Ugh! Fuck them all too. “Fuck off, Sandman. Keep your thoughts to yourself.”
“He’s got a point, Clash. I bet you were the kid on the playground that threw temper tantrums anytime he didn’t get his
way.” Ranger shot Sandman and Priest a smile. All of them could fuck off for all I cared.
“No, fuckwad, I was the kid that beat up the kids who threw temper tantrums. Get your facts straight!”
“Touchy,” Priest said, laughing. “Yeah, something is definitely wrong with him. He’s turning down fresh pussy, and he’s
irritable. I’d say he was having woman troubles, but we all know that women are repulsed by his very existence.”
“Face it, Bud. You’re unfuckable,” Ranger added, all of them laughing like hyenas.
“Tell that to your sister, asshole.”
Ranger’s hand clenched into a fist. It was a known fact that Ranger’s sister Olive was off limits to the club. He kept her
away from everyone and everything, even Sandman, who was supposedly his best friend. Although, Olive was quite the looker,
if she wasn’t a death sentence waiting to happen. That’s one pussy even I’m not stupid enough to touch.
“Talk about my sister like that again, Clash, and I’ll fucking skin you alive.” The fact that Ranger was even threatening me,
was cute at best. The man really needed to get laid, badly.
“Look, will you guys just fuck off and leave me alone? I got shit on my mind, and I don’t need you monkeys fucking that up
for me.”
Ranger’s face softened just a tad. “We’re just worried about you, Clash. You’ve been different ever since Shasta left—
angry, moody, a bit unhinged. It gives off Sabbath vibes, and it has us all worried.”
“Well, stop fucking worrying about me. I’m fine! I just needed a goddamn beer, and you all are wasting my buzz.” I grabbed
the beer from in front of Sandman, taking it as my own. No one said a word about it.
The three of them just stared at me with concerned eyes, but none of them said another word, allowing me to enjoy my third
beer in peace.
Leaving my condo was the only way I could lessen the chance of going off on Gina. I already scared her, and I didn’t want
to add fuel to the fire. But it was shocking how her words affected me, like she knew just how to wound me without even
trying.
Being nice was getting me nowhere with her… maybe I had to try a new angle… one that I was familiar with and
accustomed to.
If she didn’t like me nice, I’d love to see what she thinks of me when the real asshole comes out. And that’s just what I’ll
give her.
The Clash she expects… the Clash everyone expects me to be.
Cold-hearted.
Unapologetically crude.
And one hundred percent… grade ‘A’ Asshole.
 7
He didn’t come back for what seemed like hours, and when he finally did, he came stumbling in, reeking of alcohol and
stale cigarette smoke. There was a hint of perfume in the air as well, but I stuffed the niggle of jealousy that came over me and
shook it off.
I didn’t know him.
I shouldn’t be jealous.
I wasn’t jealous.
“Hey, sweet cheeks, how’s it hanging?” he asked, laughing hysterically as he bumped into a chair.
I shot a wary look over at my son, who was sound asleep on the couch.
“Clash, are you drunk?”
He held up his fingers, barely holding them apart as he slurred, “Maybe just a tad. But why do yooou care? Huh? I’m just
another disgusting biker. Lewd, crude, and full of attitude.” He laughed at his rhyme. “I sound like Dr. Seuss.”
He then proceeded to recite the entire One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish Dr. Seuss book by heart. “That man was a
fucking genius!” he exclaimed, swaying just a tad after he finished reciting his favorite childhood story.
“Clash, please, keep your voice down. I just got Alex to bed and I don’t want to wake him up.”
He looked over at my son, his face ever so slightly softening. “That kid is amazing,” he whisper-yelled. “You did good,
little momma.”
I shook my head, staring at the drunk biker who was currently using one of his dining room chairs as a crutch.
“Why do you hate me?” he asked, his desperate eyes meeting mine.
“I don’t hate you,” I whispered. “I barely know you.”
The pain in his eyes was real, and I wasn’t sure how I should take it. “You’re right,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t
know me, but my heart.” He pointed to his chest. “This empty vessel right here, is filling up because of you and your son. How
do you explain that? Just looking at you has turned my whole world upside down.”
“You’re drunk, Clash. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
He held up an angry finger, shaking it at me as his eyes narrowed. “Don’t fucking put words in my mouth, woman!”
Instantly, that fear came rushing back, images of Eric using woman as a derogatory nickname hitting me full force.
“You look at me when I’m talking to you, woman!” He gripped my face, almost snapping my neck as he forced me to
look up at him. “I asked you a fucking question, woman! Now tell me, where the hell is my good tie?”
“I—I don’t know, Eric. When did you last have it?”
My husband’s wild eyes, inebriated and manic with delusions, glazed over, as if he was trying to remember the last time
he had the stupid tie.
 “Oh, I remember now.” A sick smile spread across his face, his features darkening with malice and spite. His hand
curled into my hair, ripping my head back so I was staring at him in fear. “I used it to fuck my secretary with. Tied the bitch
up, pushed her over my desk, and fucked that juicy little pussy of hers.” Tears pricked my eyes as his grip tightened, with
no remorse for anything he was doing or saying. “Does that turn you on? Knowing another bitch has sucked my cock and
satisfied me in ways a woman like you could never do.”
“No,” I whimpered. “Please, stop torturing me.”
He laughed sadistically. “Oh, if you think this is torture. Wait till you see what I have in store for you.”
He pushed me to the ground, undoing his belt and snapping it. My body recoiled at the sound, too afraid of what came
next.
“I’m going to whip you until you admit the thought of me fucking other women turns you on.”
The first vicious sting went across my back, as the belt, buckle and all, hit my ribcage.
“Say it, you ugly slut! Say you like the idea of me fucking other women!”
My teeth clamped down on my lips as he hit me again, this time breaking open the skin.
“I SAID SAY IT!” he roared, whipping me over and over again until I finally cried out, too broken to fight his wrath any
longer.
“I fucking love it!” I screamed. “Is that what you want to hear?”
He laughed. God, how that laugh sent shivers up and down my spine. “I knew it!” He threw the belt on the bed, but the
damage was already done. Blood leaked from my open wounds, dripping down the small of my back until droplets appeared
on the floor.
When I finally lifted my head to look at him, I was met with his hardened dick, his eyes wild with desire.
“Next time, you’re going to watch,” he said in glee. “You’re gonna sit naked on that chair, touching yourself while I
fuck another woman’s pussy in front of you. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll give you a little taste of what you’re missing, but we
all know what a disgusting piece of trash you truly are.” He started stroking himself, smiling evilly as he looked down at
me bleeding and full of tears. “But for now, I guess you’ll have to do. Suck me off, woman. Now before I lose my temper
again!”
And like the good little wife… I obeyed.
“Damn it, stop looking at me like that!” Clash shouted, bringing my attention back to him.
“What?”
“Like you hate me… like I disgust you.”
“I wasn’t…”
He slammed his hand on the table, making me scream in fear. Somehow, Alex didn’t even stir. Thank god he’s a sound
sleeper.
“See! That right there. You’re afraid of me. Why? How? How can you be afraid of me when I’m completely enamored by
you?”
“Enamored? Clash, you don’t even know me!”
He moved across the room before I could even react, cupping my face and caressing it. Alcohol permeated his breath, but I
could see the sincerity in his eyes, and that kind of worried me.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful! Don’t you see that?”
I shook my head, more tears forming in my eyes.
“Well, you’re blind, Gina. So fucking blind.”
Then, without warning, he kissed me, his soft mouth fitting over mine until our tongues were clashing together. Nipples
hardening, and my nether regions flooding like a broken dam, I fell victim to his touch, allowing the man to possess me in ways
only my ex ever had. His hands gripped my hips, his pelvis pushing against me, making me feel his hardened cock that was
definitely bigger than Eric’s. My hand instinctively moved lower, gripping the bulge in his jeans until he was moaning against
my mouth. One of his hands dipped below my shirt, and the coarse contrast of his palm against my sensitive flesh hit me like
lightning.
Fuck. What the hell was I doing?
Violently, I pushed him away, wiping my mouth as I took a few needed steps back from him. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”
Clash stumbled backward, shaking his head as if he was muddled with thoughts.
 “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m drunk.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to fucking kiss me,” I scolded him, still panting for the breath he so effortlessly stole away.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
I wasn’t expecting him to relent so easily, but he was literally hanging his head in shame. “I can’t explain it, Gina. I don’t
know why you’re affecting me this way. Maybe it’s your kid or something? God knows, I think I’d do anything for that little boy
right about now. And I fucking hate kids. But when I look into your eyes, I just see everything I ever wanted. Maybe I’m stupid
for believing in a future that doesn’t exist, but I can’t help myself. Hell, I wanted to come back here and be the biggest fucking
asshole in the world, but the second I saw you, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.” Heartbreak shined in his eyes as he
weakly looked up at me. “All I want is to protect and provide for you. That isn’t like me at all.”
“Clash, you don’t even know what you’re saying.”
“Maybe…” his voice trailed off. “Or maybe, I’ll wake up tomorrow morning with the biggest fucking hangover in the
world, remembering every damn minute of tonight, locking that fucking kiss in my memory so I never forget it.” He took another
daring step forward, but this time, I held up my hand.
“I can’t.”
“Why?” he asked.
“I’m too broken, Clash.”
His hand carefully clutched my elbow, and just the small touch alone, dismantled parts of me I thought were gone forever.
“Let me fix you.”
The need to kiss him again was overpowering me, but I held back the urge, gently removing his hand.
“When someone is shattered and scattered into a trillion tiny pieces, there’s no way to repair them.”
His fingers caressed my cheek, a protective ownership taking over his eyes.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Gina,” he whispered, his fingertips gently stroking my skin. “Even what’s shattered can be put
back together with glue, tape, determination, and a little love.”
Love? He was definitely drunk and talking crazy. WE JUST MET! How is he not realizing this?
I shied away, warding off the feelings of longing that were bubbling inside of me the longer I stared into those hazel orbs of
sincerity. He was making me feel things I didn’t want to feel, at a time in my life where feeling anything for anyone felt like a
bitter betrayal to the Devil I left back at home. I had no loyalty to Eric. I wanted out of the marriage. Yet, the way Clash was
making me feel in that moment, felt like the worst kind of punishment in the world—a punishment far worse than any of the
beatings Eric ever gave me.
It was the harrowing realization that there were men in this world who weren’t out to hurt me—men who only wanted to
protect and shower me in love. That upon itself was a shitty punishment—knowing I chose poorly. Knowing I chose wrong.
I wanted to believe that Clash was that man, but before I could even fathom the thought, his body hit the ground, passed out
cold from his night of drinking.
Yeah, he definitely won’t remember this shit in the morning.
 8
Fuck! What the hell happened?
Groggy and disoriented, I awoke to find myself on the floor of my loft, the cold wooden ground a hardened mass underneath
my heavy limbs.
Everything hurt.
My head.
My arms.
My knees.
Shit, what the fuck happened?
Crawling to my feet, I swayed a bit, finding the closest chair and hurling my body down into it. A little giggle caught my
attention, and I found Alex staring at me, covering his smile with his hand.
“What?” I asked him, still trying to process what happened last night.
“You fell asleep on the floor. Mommy said it was because you were really tired. But you smell like my daddy did
sometimes. He always smelled like that before he would hurt mommy. Did you hurt my mommy, Mr. Clash?”
I couldn’t remember.
Did I? Surely not.
“I don’t think so, kid.”
Alex pulled up a chair next to me, still grinning like a loon. “Mommy went to bed crying. I tried to pretend like I didn’t hear
her, but the whole bed was shaking. The bed only does that when she cries.”
I felt like a total asshole. What the fuck did I do last night?
“My daddy always made my mommy cry. Sometimes, she couldn’t walk after making daddy angry.”
It was like the temperature of my body turned to broil, and everywhere I looked, I saw red, wanting to spill this man’s
blood and torture him to death.
“I think he used his belt,” Alex whispered. “He hit me with his belt one time, too. It hurt. But I deserved it, I got in his way
when he was trying to walk to the kitchen. He only hit me once though, ‘cause Mommy wouldn’t let him hit me anymore.”
Oh yeah. This man is going to fucking die.
“I’m sorry that happened to you, Alex.”
“It hurt, but it didn’t happen again after that. Mommy wouldn’t let it.”
God, this woman was a fucking saint for putting up with all she had. The fact that she got away from the situation at all was
crazy. He probably would’ve killed them both had she stayed any longer.
“Mommy said that Daddy loved me, but I’m not sure if I believe her. Do you think my daddy even cares that we’re gone?”
I sure do, kid, but not for the reasons you’re hoping for.
 “I’m sure your daddy misses you. How could he not? You’re a pretty amazing kid.”
He blessed me with that famous toothy grin. “Daddy never called me amazing. He just said I was a mistake.”
Ouch. I felt that in my soul. Flashbacks of Shasta calling me a mistake reentered my brain, and I shook them away, trying
to knock the bitch out of my thoughts.
“Well, I can tell you, your mommy definitely doesn’t think you’re a mistake.”
Alex laughed. “No, she says I’m the biggest blessing in the world.” He put his hand up to his mouth and dropped his voice.
“I think it’s silly when she says that.”
“Why?” I whispered back.
“Because I know she’s lying. How can I be her biggest blessing, if I make her mad sometimes?”
The smile that warmed my face felt infectious. This kid was absolutely adorable. “I make her mad sometimes, too.”
Alex nodded his head. “Like last night when you made her cry.”
The playfulness of our conversation stopped existing in that moment, guilt taking over me.
“Alex, do you know what I said or did to make your mommy cry?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He sat there and pondered a moment, and then covered his mouth, a cute little giggle
trickling out from behind his hand. “I did wake up and see you kissing her, which is silly because you’re not my daddy and only
Daddy should be kissing her.”
Shit! I kissed her last night? Fuck, what the hell else did I do? I couldn’t remember anything, and the fact I couldn’t recall
our first kiss was maddening.
Before I could prod Alex for more information, Gina stirred on the bed, making him scamper over to her.
“Mommy! Mr. Clash is awake. He wasn’t dead like I thought.”
Gina’s beautiful slate-colored eyes met mine, and my heart sped up just a tad.
“Glad to see you alive,” she said cautiously.
“Are you?”
She shrugged. “Well, you dying doesn’t help me or Alex get out of here any quicker. So yeah, I’m glad to see you’re not
dead.”
Without thinking, I blurted out, “Did your husband hit you with a belt?”
A look of confusion skipped through her eyes, but then she looked down at her son, realizing why I was asking it out of the
blue.
“Alex!”
Alex glanced her way, the innocence in his eyes shimmered and danced around his iris. “What?” he asked. “Did I do
something wrong? See, Mr. Clash? She gets mad at me a lot.”
Gina shot me a look, one that was cautious and a little timid. “I’m not mad at you, Alex. I just don’t like you telling
strangers things about our old home.”
“So, your ex did hit you with a belt?”
Her shoulders lifted with indifference. “It’s in the past.”
“Gina.” My tone was clipped and full of persecution. “You can talk to me. I know we don’t know each other well, but you
can open up to me about your past.”
She shifted nervously on the bed, but remained silent for a few minutes before speaking again. “Thanks, but we’re okay
now, Clash. I appreciate your concern.”
I was more than concerned. I was ready to spill his blood and not even think twice about it.
“Alex, why don’t you go upstairs and go to the bathroom?”
“Okay, Mommy.” He gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before skipping up the stairs.
“I left him for a reason,” she quietly said, gasping when she realized I had crossed the room and was standing right beside
her, my heart stammering inside my chest, the rage building.
“Stand up,” I ordered her.
“What?”
“Stand up…” It was a forceful request, one that I immediately fixed. “Please,” I asked, softening my tone.
She reluctantly got to her feet, staring up at me with the biggest look of dread.
“Turn around,” I whispered.
“Clash—I—”
 “Please,” I begged, my voice quivering with rage and speculation. I had to see it with my own eyes.
She turned, presenting her back to me. Very gently, I lifted the back of her shirt until every scar was on display. Red welted
skin marred her back, coupled with white shredded pieces of flesh, in the beginning stages of being put back together. Faint
bruising could be seen beneath her skin, but it was guilt in her eyes that had me breaking. That look that told me she felt like she
deserved this. She didn’t. Not even in the slightest.
My fingertips grazed over each of her scars as unbridled anger built within me.
“I’ll fucking kill him for touching you,” I whispered, thought it came out broken and a bit manic.
“Clash, please. It’s in the past. I left my husband for a reason.” She moved forward, putting her shirt back down. But hiding
her scars wouldn’t erase them from my brain. The man hurt Gina, and for that, his death sentence has been issued.
“And Alex? Was it okay for him to hurt Alex as well?”
A few stray tears fell down her face, and instinctively I wiped them away. “I tried to protect him the best I could, taking
whatever hits he dished out just to protect my son.”
“But who protected you, Gina? Who was there to stop the pain?”
Taking her hand, I gently lifted it up until her ring was even with her clouded eyes, tears drowning them in her sorrow.
“You could’ve pawned this at any time.”
She kicked her foot. “I know.”
“So, why haven’t you?”
A choked sob caught in her throat, and she sniffed, wiping at her nose. “It’s stupid.”
My fingers laced with hers, and she hitched a breath, her gray eyes staring into my soul with all the sorrow and despair a
broken woman could hold. A sputtering of images flashed through my brain, and snippets of last night… the last of her tongue
against my own, the softness of her flesh as my hand trailed over her breast, and the punishing grip her hand had around my
cock came flooding back to me. I’d give anything to relive that moment again.
“Why haven’t you pawned your ring, Gina?”
“Because I’m scared, Clash?”
“Scared of what?”
She inhaled a long deep breath, a pregnant pause stifling the silence passing between us. “Of moving on. Of admitting I
fucked up. It’s a symbol of when life was good with him—of the happy life I always dreamed I’d have when I was married and
with kids.”
“I’ll buy you something bigger,” I told her, one hundred percent serious. “Let me free you from his prison once and for all.”
She shook her head. “I’m not ready, Clash. Please, just give me the space I need to grieve and grow on my own.”
I took a step back, knowing I was pushing her without even trying. She was right. Gina just exited a tumultuous relationship,
one that I’m just finding out, is far worse than I ever imagined. Pushing her into a relationship so soon would be a mistake. One
that I was having trouble letting go of. Something about her made me want to possess her—own her. She was the first woman
whose eyes I looked into and I literally felt the feral need to shout “MINE!” at the top of my lungs.
I got lost in her eyes that reminded me of wet pavement when overwhelmed with tears. My soul cried out to hold her and
never let her go, but I knew she needed space—she needed me to back off and let her breathe.
So, I will… but I definitely will be playing the long game, I just won’t let her know that, yet.
“Mommy, do you think we can go to the park today?” Alex asked, suddenly appearing between us.
“Sure, Alex. We can go to the park today.”
Alex turned to me, smiling so big every tooth was on display. “Can Mr. Clash come?”
Gina’s eyes met mine, but before I could answer, my phone rang.
Taking a step back, I answered the phone. “Go for Clash.” I shot a glance over at Gina, but kept my words cryptic. “Yeah,
I’ll be there in ten.”
Hanging up the phone, I dropped to my knees, making sure I was eye-to-eye with Alex. “Sorry, Buddy, I got something I
have to do. Maybe next time?”
Alex frowned. “Okay…” he said sadly.
“Don’t be sad, Alex, I promise I’ll go with you to the park next time.”
“It’s okay, Mr. Clash. Daddy was always busy too. He never liked going to the park with me either. I understand.”
Fuck! Why was this kid affecting me this way?
“Alex, I really want to go…”
 Gina held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it, Clash. You don’t owe us anything. Go handle whatever you have to handle.
We’ll probably be here when you get back.”
“Probably?”
She shrugged. “I guess we shall see.”
Now I definitely didn’t want to leave, but I didn’t have a choice, not when Ranger was calling me all frantic. With Snyder
gone, it was on me to run the club, despite my bitterness and resentment over it. The club came first—always.
But as I took a few cautious steps towards the door, looking over my shoulder at the broken woman and child I had
somehow taken under my wing, I found myself questioning where my loyalty really should be.
With the club that blatantly rejected my request to be president, or to the woman and child who were silently taking over
every piece of my blatantly empty heart?
 9
I was playing a very dangerous game, one that was lingering on the point of insanity. Every time Clash got close to me, it
was like my body was calling out for him, wishing he’d possess me in ways only one man ever had. I could see my son falling
in love with him, which was easy, since Alex pretty much loved everyone.
A man like Clash didn’t need a single mom and her son holding him back, he didn’t need the stress that came with my ex on
his mind either. I’d always be on the run—one day he’d find us, then where would I be? In jail? Behind bars? My son in foster
care, or worse, back in his father’s custody? Just the thought if it made me sick to my stomach.
No. The best thing for me to do was to distance myself from Clash all I could, but that would involve me reaching out to my
sister—something I wasn’t exactly ready for.
I hadn’t talked to her in years. Would she even answer my call if I did manage to get the courage to reach out to her?
“Mommy, can I go on the slide?”
“Sure, Alex. Go ahead.”
He let out an excited squeal, racing over to the playground that was a few feet ahead of me. I couldn’t help but shake the
overwhelming feeling that I was being watched, but by who, I had no idea. Nobody was in the park, and hardly anyone had
driven down the street since we got here.
Shaking off the nagging inside my brain, it started to wander to other things… like how soft Clash’s lips were, and how that
smile of his drove me crazy. It was like I could still feel his hand on my skin, the desperate need that washed over me, wanting
him to explore my flesh with all his digits.
Delusions of ecstasy took over my every thought, images of Clash poised between my legs, feasting on me in ways no other
man ever had, fucking me with that cock I couldn’t stop thinking about since I grabbed his dick and felt his impressive package.
It was like I couldn’t turn my naughty thoughts off, and my legs scissored together, holding in the ache between my thighs,
suppressing the urge to moan.
“Mommy, watch this!” Alex shouted, waving at me as he stood up on the slide, ready to race down it, forcing me back to
the reality that mattered, not the fantasy world that would never exist.
“Alex, please be caref—” my words were cut off by him screaming, his face hitting the bark on the playground floor with a
nasty thud.
I was going to warn him about standing up on the slide like that, but I was too late. He tripped, falling down face first on
the ground below.
Protective Mama bear mode was activated, and I sprang to my feet, rushing over to my son who was rolling around on the
ground crying and screaming
His face was all scraped up, and blood was coming out of a gash on his cheek and knee. He wouldn’t stop crying, and I
scolded myself for not watching him like I should have. The worst part was the fact his arm was bent at a very odd angle.
Shit.
“Mommy, my arm hurts,” Alex whined. “It really, really hurts.”
Out of nowhere, a man appeared, and just the sight of him made my stomach roil in unease. Where the fuck did he come
from?
 “Is he okay?” the man asked, kneeling down by my son.
“No, I think he may have broken his arm.”
The man nodded, though his eyes weren’t on my son’s arm, they were on my tits, making me even more worked up.
“Let me help you. I can take you to the hospital.”
“No, it’s okay,” I replied, standing to my feet, while helping Alex to his.
“I noticed you don’t have a car though. The closest hospital is miles away.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ll call an ambulance if I have to.” He didn’t need to know I didn’t have a phone. God how I wish I had a
phone right now.
The man gripped my arm. “Nonsense. I’ll take you.” His voice was gruff and there was a wild look in his eyes. He started
tugging on me, and I panicked.
“I said no thank you,” I shouted, pulling my arm away.
“I’m insisting you come with me,” he said again, his voice getting more growly and insistent. “If you know what’s good for
you,” he whispered so only I could hear, “you will come with me. Don’t want that sweet boy of yours to get anymore hurt, do
you?”
Alex was still crying and had no idea what was going on. But there was absolutely no way I was going anywhere with this
crazy man.
“Go away!” I told him, quickly grabbing Alex as I started to back away.
He took a few steps toward me, increasing my heart rate tenfold.
The man’s brow dropped menacingly, but instantly washed away, backing up quickly while holding up his hands. “I don’t
want any trouble.”
Glancing over my shoulder, relief washed over me when I saw Clash running towards us, at least until I saw the gun in his
hand, one that was trained on the guy.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Clash ordered. “Touch her again, and I pull the trigger.”
The man took off running, not even bothering to look back.
Clash tucked his gun behind him, quickly rushing to my side.
“What happened?”
“Alex fell off the slide. Then suddenly that guy showed up, insisting I get in his car with him, so he could take us to the
hospital, but it didn’t feel right…”
“I should’ve warned you. There’s been quite a few sexual assaults in the area. Most of them don’t go reported, and police
don’t monitor the area as much as they should. When you said you were going to the park, I didn’t think about which one was
closest to me.”
“Why are you here?” I asked him, watching in awe as he scooped Alex up into his arms and carried him over to a car a few
feet away.
“I told the little guy that I would come to the park with him.”
Instantly, my heart swelled. He came here to play with Alex? What is this world right now?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Clash. I fell. I ruin everything.” Tears fell down my son’s beautiful face, his eyes shining as that once
vibrant smile shifted into a frown.
“Hey, buddy, it’s okay. Let’s get you to the hospital. We’ll get you checked out.”
My steps faltered. Would taking him to the hospital make it easy for my ex to find me?
“I don’t know if a hospital is a good idea, Clash. What if…”
“Don’t worry, Gina, everything is gonna be okay.”
“But, Clash…”
“Trust me, Gina. Please.”
I fell into step behind him, my heart stammering inside my chest as I tried to keep up with him, fear racing through the
marrow in my bones. The thought of my husband finding me, let alone finding me because our son may have broken his arm,
was a new fear I didn’t know I would be suffering from.
Clash led us over to a vehicle, helping us both inside.
“Is this your car?”
He nodded. “It’s my cage. I only drive it during the winter though when the conditions are too bad for my bike, or if I’m
transporting more than one person.”
“It’s nice,” I murmured, settling against the plush fabric of his bucket seats.
“It’s okay. But I prefer the peace of an open road over a cage any day. Nothing beats riding a motorcycle—nothing.”
Alex was still whimpering from the backseat, silent tears spilling from his eyes. He was babying his arm and doing his best
not to bleed all over Clash’s car.
“Mr. Clash, do you think I can ride your motorcycle some time?” he asked him before looking to me for approval. “Is that
okay, Mommy?”
 I wasn’t so sure. I always heard that motorcycles were death traps. “I don’t know, Alex. We’ll see.”
He frowned. “That means no.”
“It means we’ll see, Alex.”
Clash interjected, “If your mommy says it’s okay, Alex, I’ll take you for a ride sometime. How are you feeling now,
buddy?”
“My arm still hurts,” he admitted. “And I’m bleeding; do you have any napkins?”
Clash reached into his center console, producing a few napkins before handing them to him. “Here you go, buddy.”
“Thank you, Mr. Clash.” Alex started wiping at his cheek, grimacing when he saw all the blood. “I’m a bloody mess.”
Both Clash and I giggled. He shot me a look, that handsome face of his, chiseled in all the right places, was stubbled with a
gorgeous five o’clock shadow, one I wanted to feel under my fingertips.
But I couldn’t shake a nagging thought from my head. One that was too important to overlook and needed answers. “Alex,
cover your ears please.”
“Mommy, how do I cover my ears when my arm hurts?”
“Put one ear against the seat, use your good hand to plug the other, and then do what Mommy usually tells you to do, okay?”
He nodded, covering his ears the best he could, and then immediately started singing the ABC Song. It’s a trick I taught him
when I didn’t want him to listen to what I was saying. As long as he was reciting his ABC’s, he couldn’t hear me.
“Clash, why do you have a gun?” I whispered, dropping my voice low, just in case.
He frowned. “For protection. Plus, it’s Texas. Most people here carry guns.”
“Have you ever used it before?” I knew he had, but I wanted to hear it from him.
“Once or twice.”
“Have you ever killed anyone with it?”
He shrugged. “It’s probably best if you don’t know that answer.”
I nodded, knowing I overstepped. “You’re probably right.”
“That’s a part of me I hope you never see, Gina. My life is a rollercoaster on the best of days. Some days are better than
others, and others are too rocky to manage. But I do what I have to do to protect the people I care about.”
A long silence followed, making me a bit uneasy, and just as we pulled around to the back of the hospital, near a side
entrance, he said. “That includes you and Alex.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I changed the subject quickly.
“Why are we parking in the back?”
Clash didn’t answer me. Instead, he fired off a text to someone, and a few seconds later, a pretty nurse appeared, all smiles
and beauty.
“Mommy, can I stop saying my ABC’s now?”
“Yes, Alex, you can.”
He removed his hand immediately.
Clash exited the car, heading straight for the nurse who couldn’t stop smiling. She seemed elated to see him. Did he know
her? “Chuckie!” she exclaimed, embracing him with open arms. “To what do I owe this surprise?”
After helping Alex out of the car, I watched her eyes widen when she saw the two of us emerge, pausing next to Clash.
“Mom, this is Gina and Alex. Alex fell off a slide and hurt himself. Do you think you can look at him?”
“Of course, Son. I just need her to fill out…”
He held up a hand. “Mom, I need this to be done on the down low.”
She looked around, then nodded. “I’ll get Dr. Isaac.” She held the door open for us, then ushered us in a room away from
the rest of the hospital.
“That’s your mom? Did she just call you Chuckie? Like the Rugrats character?”
Clash nodded. “She’s the only person I allow to call me Chuckie and get away with it. My real name is Charles, but that’s
never really fit my personality. I started calling myself Chuck from a very young age, and then Mom started calling me
Chuckie.”
His mother entered the room, beaming. “He absolutely despises my little nickname for him, but I think it’s cute. I’m
Isabella, by the way.”
“I’m Gina and this is my son Alex,” I reiterated, just in case she forgot our names. Her smile never faltered, she just kept
grinning and smiling at her son.
“What?” he asked, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
“Oh, nothing,” she said, chuckling under her breath. “It’s just… well, she’s very beautiful.”
My cheeks instantly warmed from the innocent compliment. I wasn’t very good at taking compliments from anyone.
Clash shook his head. “Yeah, Mom, I know. Can you look at the kid, please?”
His mother brushed off his request, turning back to me.
“So, how did you and my Chuckie Boy meet?”
 “Moooom,” he drawled out, rolling his eyes.
Alex, being the precious little being he is, spoke first. “Mr. Clash caught me stealing food. Then he met my mommy by the
dumpster.”
Instantly, his mother’s face fell. “Oh no, are you homeless?” Pity filled her eyes, and I fucking hated it.
“Not anymore,” Alex continued. “Mr. Clash is letting us stay at his house. He has a TV and lets me watch SpongeBob. He
bought me and my mommy clothes, and I got a big white Teddy Bear. Wanna know what I named him?”
“Sure,” Isabella said, though her pity remained.
“I named him Skittles because that’s my favorite candy. Mr. Clash bought me Skittles when he caught me stealing it, said he
didn’t want me to get in trouble. Mommy says Mr. Clash is mean, but I don’t think he’s mean at all. He’s very nice and has
taken care of us.”
Isabella’s head snapped to look at her son. “Chuck? Are you feeling okay?” She pressed a hand to his forehead. “You
definitely don’t have a fever.” Her smile widened. “I don’t know what you’ve done to my son, Gina. But keep doing it. If a
woman can knock the asshole out of him, then she’s alright in my book.”
“Can you just look at the kid, Mom?”
She shook her head, giggling behind her mask as she turned to face us.
“Alex, do you think you can let me take a look at you?”
Alex weakly nodded as she helped him up on a table. Carefully, she checked his vital signs, making sure not to disturb his
arm, that was now swollen and bruising. She then gently touched the arm, moving it ever so slightly until he cried out in pain.
“That hurts!” he shouted.
She frowned. “I think it’s broken. Let me go get our portable x-ray machine, and I’ll scan it.”
“Can you do that? I mean, we don’t have any money and I can’t…” my voice trailed off, unsure if I should reveal anymore.
She put a friendly hand on my arm and smiled. “It’s on Clash. Don’t worry about it. And I don’t need anything else from
you. It’s not the first time I’ve had to keep things a secret from my job when it comes to my son.”
“It probably won’t be the last either,” he added, shooting me a wink.
“I’ll be right back. Alex, try not to move your arm too much, okay?”
“Okay, Clash’s Mommy. Sorry, I don’t remember your name.”
She pointed to her name tag. “It’s Isabella. But you can call me Izzy if you like?”
“Izzy… I like that. It reminds me of a lizard. Do you like lizards, Izzy?”
She nodded. “I do.”
Like normal, Alex started spitting out random facts again. “Did you know that frogs eat bugs, and alligators eat the frogs,
and we sometimes eat the alligators, making us the top of the food chain?”
“If I didn’t before, I do now. Thanks, Alex.”
“No problem. My Mommy says I’m a welt of information, whatever that means.”
“Wealth, Alex. Wealth of information.”
Alex waved me off. “Whatever that means.”
Izzy laughed, shooting her son a look. “I get it now.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant, but it was the last thing she said before she flounced from the room to get the x-ray machine.
“What did she mean?”
Clash shrugged. “I don’t know. She can be a bit off her rocker at times.” But he coyly grinned, telling me he knew exactly
what she meant.
Ten minutes later, she reappeared with a machine, and a man wearing a doctor’s jacket.
“Clash, so good to see you again.”
“You too, Dr. Isaac. I appreciate your cooperation in this. I’ll make sure the club pays you accordingly.”
The doctor nodded, walking over to Alex who suddenly seemed unfazed by his injury, he was too busy staring at the man’s
gigantic nose.
Oh no…
“Hi, you must be Alex? What happened little guy?”
More staring. Eyes widening. Mouth twitching.
Shit, I don’t think I can stop it this time.
“Is he non-verbal?” he asked, turning my way.
I shook my head, hoping that what my gut was telling me, wouldn’t happen, but of course, Alex had other plans.
“You got a really big nose!” Alex blurted out. He looked over at me, instantly seeing my look of disapproval and shrugged.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Mommy says I shouldn’t talk about things that are different on people. Like one time, I
saw a man that was really, really big. And when I asked him why he was so big, my mommy got mad at me. I just wanted to
know why he looked that way. Like your nose. Why is it so big?”
Clash and Isabella stifled their laughter.
 “Alex, you shouldn’t ask that sort of question!” I scolded.
Dr. Isaac held up his hand, taking my son’s ramblings like a champ. “Genetics. My dad had a big nose. My brothers both
have big noses.” He held a hand up to the side of his mouth and whispered, “Even my mom has a big nose, but we don’t
mention it.”
Alex nodded thoughtfully. “Makes sense. My mommy has really big feet, but I don’t say anything about it because she’s
self-Jiminy Cricket.”
“Self-Jiminy Cricket?”
“Yeah, he’s Pinocchio’s conscience, and Mommy says when people say things about what makes you different. It makes you
Self-Conscience. Though, I have trouble saying that word, so I just say Self-Jiminy Cricket. It’s easier.”
“I’ll have to remember that. I’ve never heard anyone call it that before. And I believe the correct term is self-conscious,”
Dr. Isaac said with a wink.
“Still too hard for me to say. I’ll stick with the cricket,” Alex said giggling.
Everyone in the room laughed, making Alex grin in delight. He loved making people smile.
After about twenty minutes, and a few x-rays, Alex’s arm was definitely indeed broken, and I felt so incredibly guilty about
it.
Alex though, thought it was the best thing ever, especially when Dr. Isaac placed him in a nifty blue cast—his favorite
color.
“Mommy, look at this thing. It’s huge!” He then dropped his voice a little lower. “It’s even bigger than the doctor’s nose.”
“Alex, it’s really not nice to point out people’s flaws like that,” I reprimanded him again.
“I know. I know,” he said, blatantly ignoring me. “Hey, Mr. Clash, Mommy has big feet, but don’t tell her that, and I have
this cool big cast. Do you have anything that’s really big on you?”
Instantly, my cheeks went pink, remembering the ginormous appendage sitting in his pants. Clash must’ve seen my blush
because he chuckled, stating the obvious, “I’ve been told there are a few parts of me that are bigger than normal…” He paused,
flashing me the sexiest smile I’d ever seen, right before winking. God, how that wink and wicked smile affected me, too. My
lady basement was a total flood zone right now.
“Like what?” Alex asked.
Of course, he would ask that.
“Oh, would you look at that? We’re home!” Clash exclaimed, using the sudden pull into his driveway as a way to avoid the
question.
Alex was out of the car before either of us could stop him, excitedly skipping toward the door as he exclaimed. “I can’t
wait to show Skittles how big my cast is!”
I started to open my mouth to thank Clash for taking us to the hospital, but he had different plans.
“And I can’t wait to show his mommy, how big something is as well.”
Yeah… that instantly clammed me up. No use in thanking him now. That last statement of his made me a lusty fucking mess.
 10
When Ranger called me, telling me there was a major emergency at the club, I didn’t want to leave. Alex had this uncanny
way of playing my heart strings like a violin, tugging and pulling them like a true musician. I’d literally do anything for that
fucking kid, and seeing his heart breaking over me not being able to go to the park with him, absolutely devastated me.
But I had to push it away.
I had a club that needed me right then.
But fuck me for thinking that it was an actual emergency I was needed for, because when I pulled up into the club parking
lot, I found myself face to face with three unfamiliar faces, and one incredibly proud Skid.
“What’s all this?” I questioned him, my temper already building. I didn’t even bother dismounting my bike, but I did turn it
off—I could barely hear myself think.
“Clash, I’d like you to meet Joaquin, Gideon, and Kody. Joaquin was friends with Warrant.” Skid’s smile faded, that bitter
sadness returning the second he said Warrant’s name. It was odd that he was still hung up about it, but I shrugged it off.
“And why do I care?” This better not be the reason why I was asked to come over here.
Ranger came hustling out of the club, skidding to a stop just inches away from me. He was panting and out of breath. “Oh
good, you’re here.”
“Yeah, why the fuck did you call me here, Ranger?”
Ranger motioned to the three men standing before me. “They want to prospect the club.”
“Seriously? That’s why you fucking called me here?”
“Well,” he huffed out. “I can’t fucking make that kind of decision, and Snyder isn’t here. So, I called you.”
“And that makes this an emergency?”
“Well… no… I guess not. But they needed an answer. They drove all this way, Clash.”
I looked over at the beat-up car sitting just at the gates. “Do you guys even ride?”
All three of them shook their heads no. “But we can learn,” one of them, a freckled faced kid with red-hair, reminding me
of Axl, stated.
“And we have other talents,” the biggest one said, looking pretty damn proud of himself.
“Yeah,” the tall skinny one standing next to Skid stated, motioning to the big guy with too long of hair. “Gideon here got
locked up for hacking the Pentagon. And Kody can steal any car you put in front of him.” He waved a hand at the red-head, who
just crossed his arms, trying to look tough. He wasn’t. None of them were.
The man had shifty eyes. I wasn’t sure if I should trust him. “And you? What exactly are your talents?”
He shrugged.
“Joaquin is an entrepreneur of sorts,” Skid quickly admitted. “He’s really good at fencing shit.”
Hmm? Maybe they could prove to be useful after all?
“Sounds like you all got some kind of record?”
Joaquin nodded. “We met in the clink. That’s where I knew Warrant from, he was my… celly…”
I didn’t like the sudden hesitation, but I shrugged it off, knowing that men of this caliber were better off friends than foes.
And with the Crows reforming, it was better to have them on our side, then running over to theirs. It still didn’t stop me from
scrutinizing their every move. I’ll be damned if we add more fucking rats to our ranks.
“Well, I ain’t saying shit until it’s okayed by the Prez, but if you want to hang around until the bastard gets back, that’s fine
by me.”
All three men grinned.
“But I would suggest learning how to fucking ride before you do. We got no use for bikers who don’t know how to ride.”
They all nodded. “We’ll get right on that, Sir.” The one with red-hair, I think his name was Kody, exclaimed.
“Sir?” I scoffed. “Do I look like a fucking sir?”
The man instantly looked at his feet. “No, sorry.”
“I don’t want you three bringing any trouble to our fucking club. Those records of yours better be the last ones you get.”
Not that it mattered. Quite a few of my brothers had spent some time behind bars in the past. But honestly, I was a bit pissed
off that I was called here for this bullshit. Emergency? They need to look up emergency in the dictionary and fucking tattoo
that shit on their brains.
“Call me when there’s an actual fire to put out, Ranger. Not this nonsense,” I said, motioning to the three men. Two of
which looked fresh out of diapers, and one I didn’t quite trust. Something about this Joaquin fellow was making all my warning
bells fire off at once.
“Where are you going?” Ranger asked.
“None of your fucking business. Fuck off.”
Flashing them my favorite finger, I parked my bike, then grabbed one of the club’s cages before heading straight for the park
that was within walking distance of my house. I was hoping if I hurried, I could catch them and play with Alex, keeping my
promise to him. But what I found when I got there, made everything so damn worse.
When I pulled up and found Alex screaming, and a shady-looking guy tugging on Gina’s arm, everything in me boiled over,
a simmering pot burning everything below the surface. Between the useless trip to the club, combating these weird feelings for
Gina, and the crazy attachment I have to her son, seeing the man fucking manhandling her like that just made me see red, and
instantly reach for my gun.
I probably would’ve shot the fucker if he tried anything stupid, but with the way he cowered, quickly exiting the park, I
knew the spineless weasel wasn’t going to fuck with me. He was incredibly smart for a dumbass, because my trigger finger
was itching to pull the trigger just for the hell of it. I was thirsting for blood.
Then, when I saw Alex’s arm and the blood streaming down his face, that thirst was nullified. Everything in me, that
protectiveness that only appeared when these two were around, took over. I scooped up that kid in my arms, immediately
heading to the cage I brought with me. I could see the terror in Gina’s eyes, her silent plea to not take Alex to the hospital,
fearing it would somehow bring her husband to our doorstep. It wouldn’t. I had connections at the hospital that other people
could only dream of.
The club paid a particular doctor there to cover up our indiscretions when they were too much for Zeppelin, the man who
took over as SGT at Arms for the club after I took on the VP role. An added bonus was the fact that my mother was the head
charge nurse, and pretty much could get away with anything she wanted. Perks of fucking your boss, I guess. Yeah, she thinks I
don’t know about her and Dr. Isaac, but I’ve seen his car at her house numerous times—well after it should be there.
The thing that kind of pissed me off though was the way my mother kept prodding me about Gina. She could tell I was
attracted to her, but she kept egging me on anyway, trying to get it out of me. She wouldn’t… at least not in front of Gina. How
do you explain to your mother that you met a woman and fell in love so easily? It hasn’t even been a whole week, and I was
already picking out China patterns and planning weddings in my head.
It was absurd. And I needed to knock that shit off fast.
So yeah, Mom kinda pissed me off with that shit, but after everything that happened at the hospital, Alex returning home in a
cast, I was ready for the damn day to be over with, too exhausted from this father-like stuff to function.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I uttered, shooting Gina a weak glance before groaning against the comfort of my favorite
chair. It used to be my grandpa’s, and everything about it made me feel like home.
“What?” she asked, snuggling back against the couch cushions as she stroked Alex’s hair. He was fast asleep, pain meds
doing him in. He made sure to show Skittles his cast, and it made me feel good that he liked that stupid teddy bear so much. I
wasn’t sure if it was too girly.
“This parent stuff. Today was a bit exhausting. I’ll admit, when I saw his arm, and then that guy manhandling you, I went
into instant protection mode, which was weird, I normally hate kids. But not this one,” I informed her, motioning to the
slumbering Alex.
“I think you’d make a good father someday, Clash. You have natural instincts.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “Only when it comes to him, it seems. That kid is absolutely amazing.”
“Thank you,” she said shyly. “I got pretty lucky.” She looked lost in thought, and I couldn’t help but ask why.
“What’s got you so lost in thought?”
She shrugged, her fingers moving through her son’s hair, a pensive smile on her face. “Honestly, I’m just thankful for
everything you’re doing for us. This… it’s all too much, Clash.”
“It doesn’t seem like enough,” I admitted. “I wish I could do more.”
“It’s enough; trust me. Once I find a job and get some money together, I’ll pay you back for everything, and we’ll be out of
your hair.”
I didn’t want that. But there I was, thinking about a stupid future again, picturing things that would never happen. I was a
glutton for punishment.
I started to think about Lela, our cleaner, and the way she’s always complaining about needing help for jobs. She’s the
reason my house looks absolutely spotless, but cleaning houses was only one of her skills. You should see what she can do
with a crime scene.
“I know of a job you could probably get pretty easily.”
Gina cocked her head to the side, staring at me in confusion. “What’s that?”
“Well, I need to talk to my contact first, and see if they are even interested in taking on new recruits. Their girls are always
busy this time of year. But I think it be perfect for you. You have the look for it.”
“Look?” Her eyebrows raised. “What kind of job are you referring to, Clash?”
I was too tired for this shit. She was getting uptight over nothing. She should be grateful that I know people hiring help. The
economy nowadays makes the job market rather slim.
“I told you, Gina, I can’t divulge that kind of information until I contact them first. They’re pretty particular about who joins
them. They’re looking for hard-working women who don’t mind spending time on their knees a lot. I’ll give them a call in the
morning and see if I can set something up.”
“Why are you being so cryptic about this?”
“I’m not. I just don’t like giving out personal information until I know it’s okay. They’re protected by our club, and one of
our investments. I can’t just tell you about their business without speaking to them first.”
She looked horrified, but I didn’t understand why.
“I don’t need your fucking help finding a job, Clash,” she snapped at me, her back straightening as her eyes narrowed. “I’m
perfectly capable of finding something on my own.”
“Are you now? Because the way I see it, sweetheart, you’re sitting on a pretty expensive ring, and you haven’t done
anything about it. You could have money, you’re just too stubborn to do what’s right.”
“What’s right? What’s right is getting the fuck away from you.”
“Hey now, I’ve been nothing but good to you both, Gina. Why are you suddenly all defensive?”
“Because you’re a fucking asshole, that’s why. I should’ve known better than to trust you.”
“What the hell did I do?”
“Nothing!” she shouted, making Alex stir. “Don’t worry about it. By morning, Alex and I will be gone.”
“Like hell you will! Where the fuck are you going to go, Gina? Back out to that fucking dumpster? If you think I’m just going
to stand by and watch you go straight back onto the streets, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“Last I checked, Clash, it wasn’t your decision to make for us.”
“Just calm the fuck down. I know Alex hurting himself has you all wound up tight, but don’t take that shit out on me. I’m just
trying to help you.”
“I don’t fucking need your help! Why can’t you see that?”
Like I said, I didn’t have time for this shit right now.
“Look, we’re both on edge, and I don’t want to fight with you over something so stupid. I’ll call them in the morning. But
right now, I’m tired as fuck. So, why don’t you get some sleep, and I’ll let you know in the morning what they say?”
Gina didn’t say a word back to me. Instead, she rolled over in bed, looking pissed off and kind of scared for some reason.
Geesh, it’s just a potential job, and she’s treating it like a prison sentence. Hopefully, she can sleep off whatever
temporary period she’s having, take two Midol, and be back to her happy, grateful self in the morning…
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
liberty and happiness of the millions composing this Union, cannot
be acknowledged. Such authority is believed to be utterly repugnant
both to the principles upon which the General Government is
constituted, and to the objects which it was expressly formed to
attain.’
“It is not pretended that any clause in the Constitution gives
countenance to such a theory. It is altogether founded upon
inference, not from any language contained in the instrument itself,
but from the sovereign character of the several States by which it was
ratified. But it is beyond the power of a State like an individual, to
yield a portion of its sovereign rights to secure the remainder? In the
language of Mr. Madison, who has been called the father of the
Constitution, ‘It was formed by the States—that is, by the people in
each of the States acting in their highest sovereign capacity, and
formed consequently by the same authority which formed the State
constitutions.’ ‘Nor is the Government of the United States, created
by the Constitution, less a Government, in the strict sense of the term
within the sphere of its powers, than the governments created by the
constitutions of the States are within their several spheres. It is like
them organized into legislative, executive, and judiciary
departments. It operates, like them, directly on persons and things;
and, like them, it has at command a physical force for executing the
powers committed to it.’
“It was intended to be perpetual, and not to be annulled at the
pleasure of any one of the contracting parties. The old Articles of
Confederation were entitled ‘Articles of Confederation and Perpetual
Union between the States;’ and by the thirteenth article it is
expressly declared that ‘the articles of this confederation shall be
inviolably observed by every State, and the Union shall be perpetual.’
The preamble to the constitution of the United States, having express
reference to the Articles of Confederation, recites that it was
established ‘in order to form a more perfect union.’ And yet it is
contended that this ‘more perfect union’ does not include the
essential attribute of perpetuity.
“But that the Union was designed to be perpetual, appears
conclusively from the nature and extent of the powers conferred by
the Constitution of the Federal Government. These powers embrace
the very highest attributes of national sovereignty. They place both
the sword and purse under its control. Congress has power to make
war and to make peace; to raise and support armies and navies, and
to conclude treaties with foreign governments. It is invested with the
power to coin money, and to regulate the value thereof, and to
regulate commerce with foreign nations and among the several
States. It is not necessary to enumerate the other high powers which
have been conferred upon the Federal Government. In order to carry
the enumerated powers into effect, Congress possesses the exclusive
right to lay and collect duties on imports, and, in common with the
States, to lay and collect all other taxes.
“But the Constitution has not only conferred these high powers
upon Congress, but it has adopted effectual means to restrain the
States from interfering with their exercise. For that purpose it has in
strong prohibitory language expressly declared that ‘no State shall
enter into any treaty, alliance, or confederation; grant letters of
marque and reprisal; coin money; emit bills of credit; make anything
but gold and silver coin a tender in payment of debts; pass any bill of
attainder, ex post facto law, or law impairing the obligation of
contracts.’ Moreover, ‘without the consent of Congress no State shall
lay any imposts or duties on any imports or exports, except what may
be absolutely necessary for executing its inspection laws,’ and if they
exceed this amount, the excess shall belong to the United States. And
‘no State shall, without the consent of Congress, lay any duty of
tonnage, keep troops or ships of war in time of peace, enter into any
agreement or compact with another State, or with a foreign power, or
engage in war, unless actually invaded or in such imminent danger
as will not admit of delay.’
“In order still further to secure the uninterrupted exercise of these
high powers against State interposition, it is provided ‘that this
Constitution and the laws of the United States which shall be made
in pursuance thereof, and all treaties made or which shall be made
under the authority of the United States, shall be the supreme law of
the land; and the judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any
thing in the Constitution or laws of any State to the contrary
notwithstanding.’
“The solemn sanction of religion has been superadded to the
obligations of official duty, and all Senators and Representatives of
the United States, all members of State Legislatures, and all
executive and judicial officers, ‘both of the United States and of the
several States, shall be bound by oath or affirmation to support this
Constitution.’
“In order to carry into effect these powers, the Constitution has
established a perfect Government in all its forms, legislative,
executive, and judicial; and this Government to the extent of its
powers acts directly upon the individual citizens of every State, and
executes its own decrees by the agency of its own officers. In this
respect it differs entirely from the Government under the old
confederation, which was confined to making requisitions on the
States in their sovereign character. This left it in the discretion of
each whether to obey or refuse, and they often declined to comply
with such requisitions. It thus became necessary, for the purpose of
removing this barrier, and ‘in order to form a more perfect union,’ to
establish a Government which could act directly upon the people and
execute its own laws without the intermediate agency of the States.
This has been accomplished by the Constitution of the United States.
In short, the Government created by the Constitution, and deriving
its authority from the sovereign people of each of the several States,
has precisely the same right to exercise its power over the people of
all these States in the enumerated cases, that each one of them
possesses over subjects not delegated to the United States, but
‘reserved to the States respectively or to the people.’
“To the extent of the delegated powers the Constitution of the
United States is as much a part of the constitution of each State, and
is as binding upon its people, as though it had been textually inserted
therein.
“This Government, therefore, is a great and powerful Government,
invested with all the attributes of sovereignty over the special
subjects to which its authority extends. Its framers never intended to
implant in its bosom the seeds of its own destruction nor were they
at its creation guilty of the absurdity of providing for its own
dissolution. It was not intended by its framers to be the baseless
fabric of a vision, which, at the touch of the enchanter, would vanish
into thin air, but a substantial and mighty fabric, capable of resisting
the slow decay of time, and of defying the storms of ages. Indeed,
well may the jealous patriots of that day have indulged fears that a
Government of such high power might violate the reserved rights of
the States, and wisely did they adopt the rule of a strict construction
of these powers to prevent the danger. But they did not fear, nor had
they any reason to imagine that the Constitution would ever be so
interpreted as to enable any State by her own act, and without the
consent of her sister States, to discharge her people from all or any of
their federal obligations.
“It may be asked, then, are the people of the States without redress
against the tyranny and oppression of the Federal Government? By
no means. The right of resistance on the part of the governed against
the oppression of their governments cannot be denied. It exists
independently of all constitutions, and has been exercised at all
periods of the world’s history. Under it, old governments have been
destroyed and new ones have taken their place. It is embodied in
strong and express language in our own Declaration of
Independence. But the distinction must ever be observed that this is
revolution against an established Government, and not a voluntary
secession from it by virtue of an inherent constitutional right. In
short, let us look the danger fairly in the face; secession is neither
more nor less than revolution. It may or it may not be a justifiable
revolution; but still it is revolution.”
The President having thus attempted to demonstrate that the
Constitution affords no warrant for secession, but that this was
inconsistent both with its letter and spirit, then defines his own
position. He says:
“What, in the mean time, is the responsibility and true position of
the Executive? He is bound by solemn oath, before God and the
country, ‘to take care that the laws be faithfully executed,’ and from
this obligation he cannot be absolved by any human power. But what
if the performance of this duty, in whole or in part, has been
rendered impracticable by events over which he could have exercised
no control? Such, at the present moment, is the case throughout the
State of South Carolina, so far as the laws of the United States to
secure the administration of justice by means of the Federal judiciary
are concerned. All the Federal officers within its limits, through
whose agency alone these laws can be carried into execution, have
already resigned. We no longer have a district judge, a district
attorney, or a marshal in South Carolina. In fact, the whole
machinery of the Federal government necessary for the distribution
of remedial justice among the people has been demolished, and it
would be difficult, if not impossible, to replace it.
“The only acts of Congress on the statute book bearing upon this
subject are those of the 28th February, 1795, and 3rd March, 1807.
These authorize the President, after he shall have ascertained that
the marshal, with his posse comitatus, is unable to execute civil or
criminal process in any particular case, to call forth the militia and
employ the army and navy to aid him in performing this service,
having first by proclamation commanded the insurgents ‘to disperse
and retire peaceably to their respective abodes within a limited time.’
This duty cannot by possibility be performed in a State where no
judicial authority exists to issue process, and where there is no
marshal to execute it, and where, even if there were such an officer,
the entire population would constitute one solid combination to
resist him.
“The bare enumeration of these provisions proves how inadequate
they are without further legislation to overcome a united opposition
in a single State, not to speak of other States who may place
themselves in a similar attitude. Congress alone has power to decide
whether the present laws can or cannot be amended so as to carry
out more effectually the objects of the Constitution.
“The same insuperable obstacles do not lie in the way of executing
the laws for the collection of customs. The revenue still continues to
be collected, as heretofore, at the custom-house in Charleston, and
should the collector unfortunately resign, a successor may be
appointed to perform this duty.
“Then, in regard to the property of the United States in South
Carolina. This has been purchased for a fair equivalent, ‘by the
consent of the Legislature of the State,’ ‘for the erection of forts,
magazines, arsenals,’ &c., and over these the authority ‘to exercise
exclusive legislation’ has been expressly granted by the Constitution
to Congress. It is not believed that any attempt will be made to expel
the United States from this property by force; but if in this I should
prove to be mistaken, the officer in command of the forts has
received orders to act strictly on the defensive. In such a contingency
the responsibility for consequences would rightfully rest upon the
heads of the assailants.
 “Apart from the execution of the laws, so far as this may be
practicable, the Executive has no authority to decide what shall be
the relations between the Federal Government and South Carolina.
He has been invested with no such discretion. He possesses no power
to change the relations heretofore existing between them, much less
to acknowledge the independence of that State. This would be to
invest a mere executive officer with the power of recognizing the
dissolution of the Confederacy among our thirty-three sovereign
States. It bears no relation to the recognition of a foreign de facto
Government, involving no such responsibility. Any attempt to do this
would, on his part, be a naked act of usurpation. It is, therefore, my
duty to submit to Congress the whole question in all its bearings.”
Then follows the opinion expressed in the message, that the
Constitution has conferred no power on the Federal Government to
coerce a State to remain in the Union. The following is the language:
“The question fairly stated is, ‘Has the Constitution delegated to
Congress the power to coerce a State into submission which is
attempting to withdraw, or has actually withdrawn from the
Confederacy?’ If answered in the affirmative, it must be on the
principle that the power has been conferred upon Congress to make
war against a State.
“After much serious reflection, I have arrived at the conclusion
that no such power has been delegated to Congress or to any other
department of the Federal Government. It is manifest, upon an
inspection of the Constitution, that this is not among the specific and
enumerated powers granted to Congress; and it is equally apparent
that its exercise is not ‘necessary and proper for carrying into
execution’ any one of these powers. So far from this power having
been delegated to Congress, it was expressly refused by the
Convention which framed the Constitution.
“It appears from the proceedings of that body that on the 31st May,
1787, the clause ‘authorizing an exertion of the force of the whole
against a delinquent State’ came up for consideration. Mr. Madison
opposed it in a brief but powerful speech, from which I shall extract
but a single sentence. He observed: ‘The use of force against a State
would look more like a declaration of war than an infliction of
punishment, and would probably be considered by the party attacked
as a dissolution of all previous compacts by which it might be bound.’
Upon his motion the clause was unanimously postponed, and was
never, I believe, again presented. Soon afterwards, on the 8th June,
1787, when incidentally adverting to the subject, he said: ‘Any
government for the United States, formed on the supposed
practicability of using force against the unconstitutional proceedings
of the States, would prove as visionary and fallacious as the
government of Congress,’ evidently meaning the then existing
Congress of the old confederation.”
At the time of the delivery of this message the excitement was very
high. The extreme Southerners differed from it, in so far as it
disputed both the right of revolution and secession under the
circumstances, but quickly made a party battle cry of the denial of
the right of the National Government to coerce a State—a view which
for a time won the President additional friends, but which in the end
solidified all friends of the Union against his administration. To show
the doubt which this ingenious theory caused, we quote from the
speech of Senator Andrew Johnson, of Tennessee (subsequently
Vice-President and acting President), delivered Dec. 18th, 1860,
(Congressional Globe, page 119):—
“I do not believe the Federal Government has the power to coerce
a State, for by the eleventh amendment of the Constitution of the
United States it is expressly provided that you cannot even put one of
the States of this confederacy before one of the courts of the country
as a party. As a State, the Federal Government has no power to
coerce it; but it is a member of the compact to which it agreed in
common with the other States, and this Government has the right to
pass laws, and to enforce those laws upon individuals within the
limits of each State. While the one proposition is clear, the other is
equally so. This Government can, by the Constitution of the country,
and by the laws enacted in conformity with the Constitution, operate
upon individuals, and has the right and power, not to coerce a State,
but to enforce and execute the law upon individuals within the limits
of a State.”
Senator Jefferson Davis of Mississippi, publicly objected to the
message because of its earnest argument against secession, and the
determination expressed to collect the revenue in the ports of South
Carolina, by means of a naval force, and to defend the public
property. From this moment they alienated themselves from the
President. Soon thereafter, when he refused to withdraw Major
Anderson from Fort Sumter, on the demand of the self-styled South
Carolina Commissioners, the separation became complete. For more
than two months before the close of the session all friendly
intercourse between them and the President, whether of a political or
social character, had ceased.
 The Crittenden Compromise.

Congress referred the request in the message, to adopt

amendments to the constitution recognizing the rights of the Slave
States to take slavery into the territories to a committee of thirteen,
consisting of five Republicans: Messrs. Seward, Collamer, Wade,
Doolittle, and Grimes; five from slaveholding States: Messrs. Powell,
Hunter, Crittenden, Toombs, and Davis; and three Northern
Democrats; Messrs. Douglas, Bigler, and Bright. The latter three
were intended to act as mediators between the extreme parties on
the committee.
The committee first met on the 21st December, 1860, and
preliminary to any other proceeding, they “resolved that no
proposition shall be reported as adopted, unless sustained by a
majority of each of the classes of the committee; Senators of the
Republican party to constitute one class, and Senators of the other
parties to constitute the other class.” This resolution was passed,
because any report they might make to the Senate would be in vain
unless sanctioned by at least a majority of the five Republican
Senators. On the next day (the 22d), Mr. Crittenden submitted to the
committee “A Joint Resolution” (the same which he had two days
before presented to the Senate), “proposing certain amendments to
the Constitution of the United States,” now known as the Crittenden
Compromise. This was truly a compromise of conflicting claims,
because it proposed that the South should surrender their adjudged
right to take slaves into all our Territories, provided the North would
recognize this right in the Territories south of the old Missouri
Compromise line. The committee rejected this compromise, every
one of its five Republican members, together with Messrs. Davis and
Toombs, from the cotton States, having voted against it. Indeed, not
one of all the Republicans in the Senate, at any period or in any form,
voted in its favor.
 The committee, having failed to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion,
reported their disagreement to the Senate on the 31st December,
1860, in a resolution declaring that they had “not been able to agree
upon any general plan of adjustment.”
Mr. Crittenden did not despair of ultimate success,
notwithstanding his defeat before the Committee of Thirteen. After
this, indeed, he could no longer expect to carry his compromise as an
amendment to the Constitution by the necessary two-thirds vote of
Congress. It was, therefore, postponed by the Senate on his own
motion. As a substitute for it he submitted to the Senate, on the 3d
January, 1861, a joint resolution, which might be passed by a
majority of both Houses. This was to refer his rejected amendment,
by an ordinary act of Congress, to a direct vote of the people of the
several States.
He offered his resolution in the following language: “Whereas the
Union is in danger, and, owing to the unhappy division existing in
Congress, it would be difficult, if not impossible, for that body to
concur in both its branches by the requisite majority, so as to enable
it either to adopt such measures of legislation, or to recommend to
the States such amendments to the Constitution, as are deemed
necessary and proper to avert that danger; and whereas in so great
an emergency the opinion and judgment of the people ought to be
heard, and would be the best and surest guide to their
Representatives; Therefore, Resolved, That provision ought to be
made by law without delay for taking the sense of the people and
submitting to their vote the following resolution [the same as in his
former amendment], as the basis for the final and permanent
settlement of those disputes that now disturb the peace of the
country and threaten the existence of the Union.”
Memorials in its favor poured into Congress from portions of the
North, even from New England. One of these presented to the Senate
was from “the Mayor and members of the Board of Aldermen and the
Common Council of the city of Boston, and over 22,000 citizens of
the State of Massachusetts, praying the adoption of the compromise
measures proposed by Mr. Crittenden.” It may be proper here to
observe that the resolution of Mr. Crittenden did not provide in
detail for holding elections by which “the sense of the people” could
be ascertained. To supply this omission, Senator Bigler, of
Pennsylvania, on the 14th January, 1861, brought in “A bill to
provide for taking the sense of the people of the United States on
certain proposed amendments to the Constitution of the United
States;” but never was he able to induce the Senate even to consider
this bill.
President Buchanan exerted all his influence in favor of these
measures. In his special message to Congress of the 8th of January,
1861, after depicting the consequences which had already resulted to
the country from the bare apprehension of civil war and the
dissolution of the Union, he says:
“Let the question be transferred from political assemblies to the
ballot-box, and the people themselves would speedily redress the
serious grievances which the South have suffered. But, in Heaven’s
name, let the trial be made before we plunge into armed conflict
upon the mere assumption that there is no other alternative. Time is
a great conservative power. Let us pause at this momentous point,
and afford the people, both North and South, an opportunity for
reflection. Would that South Carolina had been convinced of this
truth before her precipitate action! I, therefore, appeal through you
to the people of the country, to declare in their might that the Union
must and shall be preserved by all constitutional means. I most
earnestly recommend that you devote yourselves exclusively to the
question how this can be accomplished in peace. All other questions,
when compared with this, sink into insignificance. The present is no
time for palliatives; action, prompt action is required. A delay in
Congress to prescribe or to recommend a distinct and practical
proposition for conciliation, may drive us to a point from which it
will be almost impossible to recede.
“A common ground on which conciliation and harmony can be
produced is surely not unattainable. The proposition to compromise
by letting the North have exclusive control of the territory above a
certain line, and to give Southern institutions protection below that
line, ought to receive universal approbation. In itself, indeed, it may
not be entirely satisfactory, but when the alternative is between a
reasonable concession on both sides and a dissolution of the Union,
it is an imputation on the patriotism of Congress to assert that its
members will hesitate for a moment.”
 This recommendation was totally disregarded. On the 14th
January, 1861, Mr. Crittenden made an unsuccessful attempt to have
it considered, but it was postponed until the day following. On this
day it was again postponed by the vote of every Republican Senator
present, in order to make way for the Pacific Railroad bill. On the
third attempt (January 16,) he succeeded, but by a majority of a
single vote, in bringing his resolution before the body. Every
Republican Senator present voted against its consideration. Mr.
Clark, a Republican Senator from New Hampshire, moved to strike
out the entire preamble and resolution of Mr. Crittenden, and in lieu
thereof insert as a substitute a preamble and resolution in
accordance with the Chicago platform. This motion prevailed by a
vote of 25 to 23, every Republican Senator present having voted in its
favor. Thus Mr. Crittenden’s proposition to refer the question to the
people was buried under the Clark amendment. This continued to be
its position for more than six weeks, until the day before the final
adjournment of Congress, 2d March, when the proposition itself was
defeated by a vote of 19 in the affirmative against 20 in the negative.
The Clark Amendment prevailed only in consequence of the
refusal of six Secession Senators to vote against it. These were
Messrs. Benjamin and Slidell, of Louisiana; Mr. Iverson, of Georgia;
Messrs. Hemphill and Wigfall, of Texas; and Mr. Johnson, of
Arkansas. Had these gentleman voted with the border slaveholding
States and the other Democratic Senators, the Clark Amendment
would have been defeated, and the Senate would then have been
brought to a direct vote on the Crittenden resolution.
It is proper for reference that the names of those Senators who
constituted the majority on this question, should be placed upon
record. Every vote given from the six New England States was in
opposition to Mr. Crittenden’s resolution. These consisted of Mr.
Clark, of New Hampshire; Messrs. Sumner and Wilson, of
Massachusetts; Mr. Anthony, of Rhode Island; Messrs. Dixon and
Foster, of Connecticut; Mr. Foot, of Vermont; and Mr. Fessenden, of
Maine. The remaining twelve votes, in order to make up the 20, were
given by Messrs. Bingham and Wade, of Ohio; Mr. Trumbull, of
Illinois; Messrs. Bingham and Chandler, of Michigan; Messrs.
Grimes and Harlan, of Iowa; Messrs. Doolittle and Durkee, of
Wisconsin; Mr. Wilkinson, of Minnesota; Mr. King, of New York; and
Mr. Ten Eyck, of New Jersey. The Republicans not voting were Hale
of New Hampshire; Simmons of Rhode Island; Collamer of Vermont;
Seward of New York, and Cameron of Pennsylvania. They refrained
from various motives, but in the majority of instances because they
disbelieved in any effort to compromise, for nearly all were
recognized leaders of the more radical sentiment, and in favor of
coercion of the South by energetic use of the war powers of the
government. This was specially true of Hale, Seward, and General
Cameron, shortly after Secretary of War, and the first Cabinet officer
who favored the raising of an immense army and the early liberation
and arming of the slaves.
On December 4th, 1860, on motion of Mr. Boteler of Virginia, so
much of President Buchanan’s message as related to the perilous
condition of the country, was referred to a special committee of one
from each State, as follows:
Corwin of Ohio; Millson of Virginia; Adams of Massachusetts;
Winslow of North Carolina; Humphrey of New York; Boyce of South
Carolina; Campbell of Pennsylvania; Love of Georgia; Ferry of
Connecticut; Davis of Maryland; Robinson of Rhode Island; Whiteley
of Delaware; Tappan of New Hampshire; Stratton of New Jersey;
Bristow of Kentucky; Morrill of Vermont; Nelson of Tennessee;
Dunn of Indiana; Taylor of Louisiana; Davis of Mississippi; Kellogg
of Illinois; Houston of Alabama; Morse of Maine; Phelps of Missouri;
Rust of Arkansas; Howard of Michigan; Hawkins of Florida;
Hamilton of Texas; Washburn of Wisconsin; Curtis of Iowa; Burch of
California; Windom of Minnesota; Stout of Oregon.
Messrs. Hawkins and Boyce asked to be excused from service on
the Committee, but the House refused.
From this Committee Mr. Corwin reported, January 14th, 1861, a
series of propositions with a written statement in advocacy thereof.
Several minority reports were presented, but the following Joint
Resolution is the only one which secured the assent of both Houses.

CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT.

Be it resolved by the Senate and House of Representatives of the

United States of America in Congress assembled, two-thirds of both
Houses concurring, That the following article be proposed to the
Legislatures of the several States as an amendment to the
Constitution of the United States, which, when ratified by three-
fourths of said Legislatures, shall be valid, to all intents and
purposes, as a part of the said Constitution, namely:
Art. XII. No amendment shall be made to the Constitution which
will authorize or give to Congress the power to abolish or interfere
within any State, with the domestic institutions thereof, including
that of persons held to labor or service by the laws of said State.
The Legislatures of Ohio and Maryland agreed to the amendment
promptly, but events followed so rapidly, that the attention of other
States was drawn from it, and nothing came of this, the only
Congressional movement endorsed which looked to reconciliation.
Other propositions came from the Border and individual states, but
all alike failed.
 The Peace Convention.

The General Assembly of Virginia, on the 19th of January, adopted

resolutions inviting Representatives of the several States to assemble
in a Peace Convention at Washington, which met on the 4th of
February. It was composed of 133 Commissioners, many from the
border States, and the object of these was to prevail upon their
associates from the North to unite with them in such
recommendations to Congress as would prevent their own States
from seceding and enable them to bring back six of the cotton States
which had already seceded.
One month only of the session of Congress remained. Within this
brief period it was necessary that the Convention should recommend
amendments to the Constitution in sufficient time to enable both
Houses to act upon them before their final adjournment. It was also
essential to success that these amendments should be sustained by a
decided majority of the commissioners both from the Northern and
the border States.
On Wednesday, the 6th February, a resolution was adopted,[10] on
motion of Mr. Guthrie, of Kentucky, to refer the resolutions of the
General Assembly of Virginia, and all other kindred subjects, to a
committee to consist of one commissioner from each State, to be
selected by the respective State delegations; and to prevent delay
they were instructed to report on or before the Friday following (the
8th), “what they may deem right, necessary, and proper to restore
harmony and preserve the Union.”
This committee, instead of reporting on the day appointed, did not
report until Friday, the 15th February.
The amendments reported by a majority of the committee,
through Mr. Guthrie, their chairman, were substantially the same
with the Crittenden Compromise; but on motion of Mr. Johnson, of
Maryland, the general terms of the first and by far the most
important section were restricted to the present Territories of the
United States. On motion of Mr. Franklin, of Pennsylvania, this
section was further amended, but not materially changed, by the
adoption of the substitute offered by him. Nearly in this form it was
afterwards adopted by the Convention. The following is a copy: “In
all the present territory of the United States north of the parallel of
thirty-six degrees and thirty minutes of north latitude, involuntary
servitude, except in punishment of crime, is prohibited. In all the
present territory south of that line, the status of persons held to
involuntary service or labor, as it now exists, shall not be changed;
nor shall any law be passed by Congress or the Territorial Legislature
to hinder or prevent the taking of such persons from any of the States
of this Union to said territory, nor to impair the rights arising from
said relation; but the same shall be subject to judicial cognizance in
the Federal courts, according to the course of the common law. When
any Territory north or south of said line, within such boundary as
Congress may prescribe, shall contain a population equal to that
required for a member of Congress, it shall, if its form of government
be republican, be admitted into the Union on an equal footing with
the original States, with or without involuntary servitude, as the
Constitution of such State may provide.”
Mr. Baldwin, of Connecticut, and Mr. Seddon, of Virginia, made
minority reports, which they proposed to substitute for that of the
majority. Mr. Baldwin’s report was a recommendation “to the several
States to unite with Kentucky in her application to Congress to call a
Convention for proposing amendments to the Constitution of the
United States, to be submitted to the Legislatures of the several
States, or to Conventions therein, for ratification, as the one or the
other mode of ratification may be proposed by Congress, in
accordance with the provisions in the fifth article of the
Constitution.”
The proposition of Mr. Baldwin, received the votes of eight of the
twenty-one States. These consisted of the whole of the New England
States, except Rhode Island, and of Illinois, Iowa, and New York, all
being free States.
The first amendment reported by Mr. Seddon differed from that of
the majority inasmuch as it embraced not only the present but all
future Territories. This was rejected. His second amendment, which,
however, was never voted upon by the Convention, went so far as
distinctly to recognize the right of secession.
More than ten days were consumed in discussion and in voting
upon various propositions offered by individual commissioners. The
final vote was not reached until Tuesday, the 26th February, when it
was taken on the first vitally important section, as amended.
This section, on which all the rest depended, was negatived by a
vote of eight States to eleven. Those which voted in its favor were
Delaware, Kentucky, Maryland, New Jersey, Ohio, Pennsylvania,
Rhode Island, and Tennessee. And those in the negative were
Connecticut, Illinois, Iowa, Maine, Massachusetts, Missouri, New
York, North Carolina, New Hampshire, Vermont, and Virginia. It is
but justice to say that Messrs. Ruffin and Morehead, of North
Carolina, and Messrs. Rives and Summers, of Virginia, two of the five
commissioners from each of these States, declared their dissent from
the vote of their respective States. So, also, did Messrs. Bronson,
Corning, Dodge, Wool, and Granger, five of the eleven New York
commissioners, dissent from the vote of their State. On the other
hand, Messrs. Meredith and Wilmot, two of the seven commissioners
from Pennsylvania, dissented from the majority in voting in favor of
the section. Thus would the Convention have terminated but for the
interposition of Illinois. Immediately after the section had been
negatived, the commissioners from that State made a motion to
reconsider the vote, and this prevailed. The Convention afterwards
adjourned until the next morning. When they reassembled (February
27,) the first section was adopted, but only by a majority of nine to
eight States, nine being less than a majority of the States
represented. This change was effected by a change of the vote of
Illinois from the negative to the affirmative, by Missouri withholding
her vote, and by a tie in the New York commissioners, on account of
the absence of one of their number, rendering it impossible for the
State to vote. Still Virginia and North Carolina, and Connecticut,
Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Vermont, persisted in
voting in the negative. From the nature of this vote, it was manifestly
impossible that two-thirds of both Houses of Congress should act
favorably on the amendment, even if the delay had not already
rendered such action impracticable before the close of the session.
 The remaining sections of the amendment were carried by small
majorities. The Convention, on the same day, through Mr. Tyler,
their President, communicated to the Senate and House of
Representatives the amendment they had adopted, embracing all the
sections, with a request that it might be submitted by Congress,
under the Constitution, to the several State Legislatures. In the
Senate this was immediately referred to a select committee, on
motion of Mr. Crittenden. The committee, on the next day (28th
Feb.), reported a joint resolution proposing it as an amendment to
the Constitution, but he was never able to bring the Senate to a direct
vote upon it. Failing in this, he made a motion to substitute the
amendment of the Peace Convention for his own.
Mr. Crittenden’s reasons failed to convince the Senate, and his
motion was rejected by a large majority (28 to 7). Then next in
succession came the memorable vote on Mr. Crittenden’s own
resolution, and it was in its turn defeated, as we have already stated,
by a majority of 20 against 19.
In the House of Representatives, the amendment proposed by the
Convention was treated with still less consideration than it had been
by the Senate. The Speaker was refused leave even to present it.
Every effort made for this purpose was successfully resisted by
leading Republican members. The consequence is that a copy of it
does not even appear in the Journal.
The refusal to pass the Crittenden or any other Compromise
heightened the excitement in the South, where many showed great
reluctance to dividing the Union. Georgia, though one of the cotton
States, under the influence of conservative men like Alex. H.
Stephens, showed greater concern for the Union than any other, and
it took all the influence of spirits like that of Robert Toombs to bring
her to favor secession. She was the most powerful of the cotton States
and the richest, as she is to-day. On the 22d of December, 1860,
Robert Toombs sent the following exciting telegraphic manifesto
from Washington:
Fellow-Citizens of Georgia: I came here to secure your
constitutional rights, or to demonstrate to you that you can get no
guarantees for these rights from your Northern Confederates.
The whole subject was referred to a committee of thirteen in the
Senate yesterday. I was appointed on the committee and accepted
the trust. I submitted propositions, which, so far from receiving
decided support from a single member of the Republican party on
the committee, were all treated with either derision or contempt. The
vote was then taken in committee on the amendments to the
Constitution, proposed by Hon. J. J. Crittenden of Kentucky, and
each and all of them were voted against, unanimously, by the Black
Republican members of the committee.
In addition to these facts, a majority of the Black Republican
members of the committee declared distinctly that they had no
guarantees to offer, which was silently acquiesced in by the other
members.
The Black Republican members of this Committee of Thirteen are
representative men of their party and section, and to the extent of my
information, truly represent the Committee of Thirty-three in the
House, which on Tuesday adjourned for a week without coming to
any vote, after solemnly pledging themselves to vote on all
propositions then before them on that date.
That committee is controlled by Black Republicans, your enemies,
who only seek to amuse you with delusive hope until your election, in
order that you may defeat the friends of secession. If you are
deceived by them, it shall not be my fault. I have put the test fairly
and frankly. It is decisive against you; and now I tell you upon the
faith of a true man that all further looking to the North for security
for your constitutional rights in the Union ought to be instantly
abandoned. It is fraught with nothing but ruin to yourselves and your
posterity.
Secession by the fourth of March next should be thundered from
the ballot-box by the unanimous voice of Georgia on the second day
of January next. Such a voice will be your best guarantee for LIBERTY,
SECURITY, TRANQUILLITY and GLORY.

Robert Toombs.

IMPORTANT TELEGRAPHIC CORRESPONDENCE.

Atlanta, Georgia, December 26th, 1860. Hon. S. A. Douglas or

Hon. J. J. Crittenden:
 Mr. Toombs’s despatch of the 22d inst. unsettled conservatives
here. Is there any hope for Southern rights in the Union? We are for
the Union of our fathers, if Southern rights can be preserved in it. If
not, we are for secession. Can we yet hope the Union will be
preserved on this principle? You are looked to in this emergency.
Give us your views by despatch and oblige

William Ezzard.
Robert W. Sims.
James P. Hambleton.
Thomas S. Powell.
S. G. Howell.
J. A. Hayden.
G. W. Adair.
R. C. Honlester.

Washington, December 29th, 1860.

In reply to your inquiry, we have hopes that the rights of the

South, and of every State and section, may be protected within the
Union. Don’t give up the ship. Don’t despair of the Republic.

J. J. CRITTENDEN.
S. A. DOUGLAS.

Congress, amid excitement which the above dispatches indicate,

and which was general, remained for several weeks comparatively
inactive. Buchanan sent messages, but his suggestions were
distrusted by the Republicans, who stood firm in the conviction that
when Lincoln took his seat, and the new Congress came in, they
could pass measures calculated to restore the property of and protect
the integrity of the Union. None of them believed in the right of
secession; all had lost faith in compromises, and all of this party
repudiated the theory that Congress had no right to coerce a State.
The revival of these questions, revived also the logical thoughts of
Webster in his great reply to Hayne, and the way in which he then
expanded the constitution was now accepted as the proper doctrine
of Republicanism on that question. No partisan sophistry could
shake the convictions made by Webster, and so apt were his