Against My Lips, Motorcycle Romance: AcesWild MC Series by Roxi Cooper
Authors: Roxi Cooper
Ads: Link
J ust two weeks after my 18 th birthday, I was sitting in a truck stop restaurant hundreds of miles from home, trying to figure out what my next step should be. I didn't know a single soul here near the Louisiana/Texas border, and that was fine with me. I had saved $1,000 from my cashier job at Wal-Mart over the past few months just to prepare for this journey, but I knew that wasn't going to last forever. I had taken the bus this far but if I kept going; I wouldn't have any money for food or emergencies. There would be no one to call for help if I got in trouble, so I needed to be smart.
The rest stop was filled with the smell of greasy breakfast food and stale smoke. Everyone looked like they hadn't slept in days, and there wasn't much talking going on. Any other girl my age probably would have been afraid, but after what I had endured at home this place might as well have been a carnival.
I picked at the eggs and bacon on my plate, but I didn't have much of an appetite. My new plan was to try to find a decent trucker who was headed in my direction that would let me ride with him for a little cash. I planned to stand just a little way down this dusty road and stick out my thumb, hoping for the best. I scanned the room for anyone who looked like they wouldn't murder me, and I settled on a guy wearing a baseball cap with kind brown eyes. He looked like he was probably in his early 40s, and he was clean. He was also smiling as he looked at something on his phone. I decided I would head out as soon as he looked like he was leaving.
He headed to the bathroom about five minutes later, and I hung back to watch which truck he climbed into, then I quickly headed down the road a ways to wait for him. I heard the loud rumble of his truck's engine, and I said a silent prayer to whoever was listening to please make him be the one to help me.
I needed a way out of the hell I had been living in. My stepfather, Steve, saved all of his pent-up anger toward my mother and took it out on me. Ever since she left me with him, he had drank himself into oblivion every night and found the smallest excuse to leave bruises on my body. To the community, he was an upstanding citizen; he was a police officer that helped people in trouble and took the bad guys off the streets. No one knew that he was a bad guy; the worst kind of man.
My mother had been my best friend. I had a great childhood, just the two of us after my dad died in a car accident. We never had much, but it didn't matter to me. She had worked hard as a medical secretary at Dr. Chase's office, and she always made sure I had everything I needed. Everything changed when she started dating Steve.
At first, he seemed like the perfect man. He would take us both out to dinner and bowling. He bought me nice presents for my birthday and never acted like I was in the way. What could be better than having a big, strong police officer around to protect us and take care of us? After just six months, my mom decided to marry him and move us into his house.
I got my own big bedroom and decorated it pink and purple. I was 14 years old, and I believed we had finally found a happy place. We were the perfect new family from the outside.
One night I was awakened by the sound of my mother crying downstairs. I crept quietly down and could see my mother curled in a ball against the wall hiding her face. Steve was standing over her, and I waited for him to crouch down and comfort her like a sweet husband should. Instead, I watched in horror as he pulled back his foot and kicked her as hard as he could in the side. She screamed out in pain, and I started to cry. When he walked away, telling her she was a piece of shit whore, her eyes met mine. I had never seen her look as ashamed as she did when she saw me. She motioned for me to go upstairs, so I ran to my bedroom and cried under my covers.
I tried to talk to her about it when Steve was at work, but she brushed it off, blaming herself. She said she wasn't
The rest stop was filled with the smell of greasy breakfast food and stale smoke. Everyone looked like they hadn't slept in days, and there wasn't much talking going on. Any other girl my age probably would have been afraid, but after what I had endured at home this place might as well have been a carnival.
I picked at the eggs and bacon on my plate, but I didn't have much of an appetite. My new plan was to try to find a decent trucker who was headed in my direction that would let me ride with him for a little cash. I planned to stand just a little way down this dusty road and stick out my thumb, hoping for the best. I scanned the room for anyone who looked like they wouldn't murder me, and I settled on a guy wearing a baseball cap with kind brown eyes. He looked like he was probably in his early 40s, and he was clean. He was also smiling as he looked at something on his phone. I decided I would head out as soon as he looked like he was leaving.
He headed to the bathroom about five minutes later, and I hung back to watch which truck he climbed into, then I quickly headed down the road a ways to wait for him. I heard the loud rumble of his truck's engine, and I said a silent prayer to whoever was listening to please make him be the one to help me.
I needed a way out of the hell I had been living in. My stepfather, Steve, saved all of his pent-up anger toward my mother and took it out on me. Ever since she left me with him, he had drank himself into oblivion every night and found the smallest excuse to leave bruises on my body. To the community, he was an upstanding citizen; he was a police officer that helped people in trouble and took the bad guys off the streets. No one knew that he was a bad guy; the worst kind of man.
My mother had been my best friend. I had a great childhood, just the two of us after my dad died in a car accident. We never had much, but it didn't matter to me. She had worked hard as a medical secretary at Dr. Chase's office, and she always made sure I had everything I needed. Everything changed when she started dating Steve.
At first, he seemed like the perfect man. He would take us both out to dinner and bowling. He bought me nice presents for my birthday and never acted like I was in the way. What could be better than having a big, strong police officer around to protect us and take care of us? After just six months, my mom decided to marry him and move us into his house.
I got my own big bedroom and decorated it pink and purple. I was 14 years old, and I believed we had finally found a happy place. We were the perfect new family from the outside.
One night I was awakened by the sound of my mother crying downstairs. I crept quietly down and could see my mother curled in a ball against the wall hiding her face. Steve was standing over her, and I waited for him to crouch down and comfort her like a sweet husband should. Instead, I watched in horror as he pulled back his foot and kicked her as hard as he could in the side. She screamed out in pain, and I started to cry. When he walked away, telling her she was a piece of shit whore, her eyes met mine. I had never seen her look as ashamed as she did when she saw me. She motioned for me to go upstairs, so I ran to my bedroom and cried under my covers.
I tried to talk to her about it when Steve was at work, but she brushed it off, blaming herself. She said she wasn't
Similar Books
