Bridgett

Not His Old Lady Anymore

Lian Lian

I was the President's Old Lady - and the only reason his MC was still breathing. For three years, I ran every legal business the Serpents of Redemption owned. While Craig chased road glory across state lines, I turned a failing auto shop and a tattoo parlor into the money that kept the brothers fed, the bikes fueled, and the clubhouse lights on. Then he rode home from a two-month run with a sweetbutt on the back of his Harley - and her son. Ginger, he said, had saved his life on the road. So he put her in the main residence, in the room directly across from our bed. He handed her my ledgers and called it repayment. When her son dumped a cup of scalding coffee over my hand, Craig never checked my burns. He scooped up the boy and blamed me. His grandmother - the club's Matriarch - stood before every patched brother and accused me of hurting "family." That night, Craig told me Ginger held a place in his heart I could never reach. A debt of blood he'd honor above me. Three years. My family's fortune. My scarred hand. All of it - worthless next to his roadside savior. So I did the one thing a President never expects his Old Lady to do. I gave back his patch. Now they can keep their empty ledgers. They can play happy family in a clubhouse I built. And when this motorcycle club burns - I'll be the one holding the match.

Romance Drama Mafia Badboy Female-Centered Dark Romance Biker Motorcycle Club

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"Breathe. Just breathe, Teryn..."

I chanted that in my mind. Not more than a few feet away, I could hear the wet sucking sounds as the monster drank from the girl beside me. His neck was nestled against her throat, pale white hands holding her still.

The girl whimpered but she did not scream. She knew better than that. She knew it would do her no good.

We had been in the cabin of the boat crammed together like sardines in a can, for what I thought was three days. I was only aware of the passing of time because of the light coming through the cabin's only window that was above my right shoulder.

During moments like these, I would stare out that window and pretend that I was an entire galaxy away. The sounds of the waves lapping against the side of the boat took me away and the cries of the gulls over head always distracted me. But there was nothing to see now; just the empty blackness, cut only by a thin stream of silver moonlight. The waves made no sound. There were no seagulls flying above us. Just the sound of the girl dying next to me.

One feeble hand brushed against my feet and before I could stop myself I turned to look at her. I regretted it immediately. The look in her eyes broke me.

I knew that she had blond hair but I couldn't see it in the darkness. The feeble light only illuminated her dark brown eyes and there was so much fear in them. All I could see of our captor was his pale hands gripping her shoulders and his short, dark hair.

There had been sixteen of us; sixteen girls originally at the bottom of this boat three days ago but the monster, the vampire had an insatiable hunger. He came down here in the middle of the night to feed. The first girl he fed from, Tiffany I believe her name was, with bright red curls, screamed so loudly when he bit her that it woke the rest of us up. He crushed her ribs with a single blow to her chest, collapsing her lungs instantly and she couldn't scream anymore. He drank Lily, the brunette sitting next to Tiffany, dry when he was done with the red head. None of the girls ever screamed again after that. After Tiffany and Lily, he came for another brunette name Clarice and then a raven haired girl name Opal.

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