Mature Content 17+ || Savage Wolves MC Book Three
Talia's been through hell and back. After suffering at the hands of Dmitri Petrov and his band of goons, she was left broken and ruined.
But, she isn't going to let that stop her from being the woman...
*Many of you wanted Ash and Talia to be together, but that's just not in the cards for them. They would clash way too much. They're both too strong willed of people to work together. They'd always be at each other's throats, and not in a ultra sexy way. Their interaction in this chapter does make me laugh, though.*
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•Talia•
When I wake up, it's dark out.
Skipping my usual drink of choice for the evening (and afternoon and morning), I instead make myself some black coffee. The crappy coffee maker spits out several ground coffee bean clumps into my cup, but I ignore it, pushing through and downing the caffeine like it's my next fix of heroin.
My body warms with the steaming hot cup flooding my stomach and my brain buzzes with the rush of energy flowing through my nervous system.
Shaking out my nerves, I get dressed in leggings and a tee shirt, throwing some boots on and wiping the smeared mascara from under my eyes away.
Taking my phone and keys, I lock up my apartment and head to the old school Volkswagen bus parked in the parking lot.
It belongs to the club, having originally been June's vehicle until she upgraded to something a bit classier, but instead of them selling it off, they used it as decoration at the body shop.
For now, Blade has gifted it to me as a temporary vehicle until I can find something better.
The stench of cigarettes and the stale smell of sex that seems to have lasted decades - almost as if it's embedded in the shag carpet in the back - greet my senses as I slip through the passenger side door and into the drivers seat.
It may still run, but it's far from being functional.
The drivers door is broken, the back window is busted, the speedometer is wonky, the air conditioning doesn't work for shit, but hey, I'm not complaining to anyone about a gift.
I start up the engine, the sputtering sound kicking the bus into gear before I get onto the road and head down to the Den.
It seems as if they're in the midst of one of their nightly parties when I pull up, parking beside a bike that contains a club member fucking one of the girls that call themselves 'Sheep'.
Her legs are spread as Jett, the curly-haired Latin lover, pumps into her ardently, her fake moans filling the night air - almost louder than the raging party going on a hundred feet away inside.
"Evening," he greets me over his shoulder when I jump out and slam the door of the bus.
I raise my eyebrows at their predicament, saving a few choice words for my inner self. "'Sup." I wouldn't care, except, I know for a fact he's already got an Old Lady, and she's probably inside.
