Desire: Big Bear Outlaw MC Romance Book 1 (5 page)

“
Oh, is it?
”
Dad asked, looking at his watch for some
reason.
“
Right. I
’
m sorry then. Go back to bed.
”

He staggered a bit when he closed
the door behind him. I knew that he had gotten wasted the night
before and probably hadn
’
t been to bed
yet.

I need to move out of this house!

I rolled my eyes and lay back down. The afterglow of
my orgasm dissipated, and the mood was completely ruined - blown
into little pieces and buried below one hundred feet of hard
rock.

And yet, one thought of Jack could bring it right
back.

Chapter
4

JACK

I felt my hands shake walking up to the security
guard. In his ironed uniform and clean boots, he looked like an
upstanding member of society. No one at the school suspected
anything.

“
Cameron, hey,
”
I said. He made eye contact and
looked away while I tried to keep my hands occupied, playing with
the package under my jacket. It didn
’
t work too well.
This large package made my heart feel like it was going to rip
through my chest.

The bathroom stank of piss and
detergent. All the bathrooms were supposed to be cleaned the same
number of times, but this one, at the far end of the campus,
somehow always got overlooked. It was near the MERGE
department
–
where all the special needs kids had their
classes
–
and it was the best place to transact this kind of
activities. At least that was what Kyle, the master, had told
me.

We stood in the bathroom for a few
moments, waiting to see if anyone had followed us. The walls of the
bathroom were barren
–
no windows or mirrors
–
and this
left me with nothing to look at except for
Cameron
’
s flickering eyes.

Before coming to work at Copper
Mountain Community College, Cameron had been a security guard at my
old high school, and he sold drugs there as well. He was at least
five years older than Kyle, so he must
’
ve been in his early
thirties, at least. I had seen Cam around a lot, but the only time
he had ever smiled was that moment when I handed him his
packages.

“
You got it?
”
Cam finally asked.
“
We
can
’
t stand around here forever, I gotta get back to
work.
”

“
Yeah, I
’
ve got it,
”
I said, taking one last look around
the bathroom and pushing open each stall.

‘
You can
’
t just look underneath the doors,
’
my
brother
’
s voice echoed in my head.
‘
Someone might still
be in there with his feet up.
’

“
You
’
re gonna love me, Cam,
”
I said. I reached
into my backpack and pulled out a large zip lock bag.

“
Oh wow, how much is this?
”
Cam
’
s eyes lit
up.

“
A pound.
”

“
Holy crap!
”

He reached for the bag.
“
Now, if
this is too much or if you don
’
t think you can sell
it in a week, let me know, now. If you take it with you, then
whatever you don
’
t sell is on you.
”

My brother made me practice those words over and
over until I had them right, and the practice had paid off. Despite
the fact that my hands were still shaking, they came out completely
naturally without a single stutter.

“
It won
’
t be a problem,
”
Cam insisted, staring at the
bag.

“
Next Friday, same time, same place,
”
I said and walked
out.

Cameron Matusiak had been a small time dealer since
he attended Morongo Area High School, but with the help of my
brother and our club, he was quickly becoming big time. His
business was expanding, and he was now working on commission.

Though I had experience, I still got nervous, and I
was still on the fence over the whole thing. The money was good,
but where was all of this leading?

Life is short. If you
don
’
t chase your dreams, you end up chasing someone
else
’
s.

My father wrote that in his journal. He used to
write down a lot of things, my mom told me. It was something of an
obsession, a compulsion.

I had the same compulsion. I used to think it was
something that would go away with time. Like something that I could
wish away by doing something else, but then I saw that it was
beyond me.

I needed to write down my thoughts. I needed to
exist outside of myself. And through writing, I discovered a few
things about myself.

In English class, we had to write
and critique original stories. My second story was similar to my
first. The main character named Jayden feels torn between following
his father
’
s footsteps and forging his path. Following in his
father
’
s footsteps is easier, with fewer complications, and fewer
unknowns. But, he feels a deep burning need to forge his self, his
identity, and in doing so his life.

This story didn
’
t have an ending
yet.

“
So, what happens?
”
Emma asked that afternoon, in
class.

“
I don
’
t know yet. He
’
s torn between his
two choices and isn
’
t sure which way to go.
”

“
It
’
s a tough call,
”
Emma said.
“
But something tells
me that he already knows which way he wants to go, now all he has
to do is get the courage to do it.
”

I insisted that it
wasn
’
t that simple, and she insisted that it was.

“
Jayden already knows what he wants to do,
”
she
smiled.

I didn
’
t believe her, but
when I started to write about it in my journal while Mr. Holt
lectured on symbolism, it all became obvious. Emma and my father
were both right - if you don
’
t follow your
dreams, then you
’
ll end up following someone else
’
s. For Jayden, the
decision was clear, but it was less clear for me.

What dreams did I have? I
didn
’
t dare imagine. I didn
’
t have any dreams,
and yet I knew that there had to be something more to life than
selling drugs to security guards.

If my father were still alive, he
would probably encourage me to go out there and seek out my path.
But things were more complicated than that. My stepfather, my
mother, and Kyle had all invested a lot into the Big Bear
Motorcycle Club. Selling drugs was their livelihood, more than that
even. It was their whole existence and their dream. But was it
mine? And would I have the courage to do something else with my
life the way Emma thought that my alter-ego should have? I
wasn
’
t sure.

“
You must take really good notes,
”
Emma asked after
class ended.
“
Do you think I could borrow them
sometime?
”

She had already gathered her things, but mine were
still all over my desk. People for the next class started to
stampede in, and a small red-headed boy stood over me in a huff
because I needed a minute to put everything in my backpack.

“
I wasn
’
t taking notes,
”
I said.
“
I was going to ask
you for yours.
”

“
So what were you doing?
”

“
Nothing,
”
I shrugged walking out into the hallway,
following her.
“
I just like to write things that occur to
me.
”

“
Really? That
’
s fascinating,
”
she said.

I didn
’
t know why I had
admitted that to her
–
I had never told anyone about my
writing before. But something about her made me feel as if it were
okay.

“
It
’
s nothing, really,
”
I added.

“
Oh, no, I think you
’
re wrong. It just
might be everything.
”

Emma walked ahead of me, and her
words swirled around us as if they were a cartoon word bubble. She
was right
–
my writing just might be everything. I walked Emma to
her next class and wanted to stay and chat with her, but
didn
’
t. People had already started to clear out of the hallways,
and if we stood there much longer, we would both be
late.

“
You know, I was thinking about your narrator,
Jayden,
”
she said.
“
And I think he
’
s like the
everyman
–
we all face those kinds of choices in our life,
don
’
t we? Some of us choose one way and the others
another.
”

I nodded, and she continued.

“
It
’
s like a having choice between taking a paved road with
sidewalks and manicured trees and an unpaved dirt road. The paved
road is nicer on the surface, but the unpaved dirt road is less
traveled. The unpaved dirt road is also the one more likely to lead
you someplace unexpected. I just hope that when
it
’
s my turn, I will have the courage to choose the dirt
road.
”

I didn
’
t go to my last
class that day and instead went to the staircase by the gym
entrance
–
the one that was often vacant and rarely used by anyone
except janitors
–
to write and think.

Emma
’
s words had crystalized everything in my mind and made
my choice for Jayden and my choice for my life so clear.

She had the courage to say what I already knew in my
heart, and after hearing those words out loud, I no longer had any
doubts. I sat on those cold concrete stairs and wrote in my journal
until my hand got cramped. I wrote everything and anything that
popped into my mind, but mostly I wrote about Emma and how right
she was.

An hour later, I walked out and
headed toward the parking lot. Then I remembered about
Madeline.

Madeline was waiting near my
motorcycle. Her oversized hobo bag was lying on the ground, and she
was leaning against my Harley with her foot on the kickstand like I
told her millions of times
not
to do.

But Madeline
didn
’
t care.

To say Madeline was feisty was to
make an understatement. Madeline either didn
’
t know that there
were rules in society or didn
’
t care. About a
month ago, when we first started dating, she cut her hair short and
dyed it bright red. Then she didn
’
t ask me if I liked
it
–
she simply said,
“
You
’
d better like it.
”

Madeline was unlike any other girl
that I had ever met or dated before. She lived life on the
edge
–
so much so that most of the time I was afraid that she
might fall off, and take me down along with her.

“
Hey babe,
”
she jumped off the bike and threw her arms
around my neck. She opened her mouth wide and pulled my head down
towards hers while grabbing my butt. I kissed her, pulling her
closer while my cock got hard.