Finding Me: Dominant Devils Book Three Read online

  I had a little something to give Ben and Layla, but I wanted to wait for the crowd to die down. It wasn’t anything big but the small leather bonded journal I had made for them wasn’t something I thought they would understand without an explanation; an explanation I would rather give them when there wasn’t a crowd full of people around. I got the journal for them to keep track of the baby’s first year. Each day they could write a small memory on the page for them to look back on for years to come.

  The shower was over and cleaned up by the time my chance came to give them their gift. After the guest left, leaving us to ourselves to relax, I finally got the courage to give them one final gift. I slipped out of the living room, leaving everyone to their conversations, to head to my borrowed room to collect the gift-wrapped box. With the gift in my hand, I walked right up to Ben and Layla, who were cuddling on the couch while laughing along with everyone. When I reached out to hand my gift to Layla the room grew awfully quiet. It was like everyone in the room was waiting for me to explain myself.

  “I picked this up a few weeks ago, but before you open it I think I need to explain,” I said keeping my eyes on the couple sitting in front of me trying not to lose my courage. “You see, I also have a love similar to yours. Where you like to write lyrics, I just like to write period. I had this made just for your little one so that you could write down something every day for their first year. I figured it would give you something to look back on when the teenage years hit and you’re ready to strangle him or her,” I finished with a laugh.

  Layla carefully ripped open the wrapping paper with cautious eyes. When she lifted the box and pulled out the personalized leather journal I remained quiet. I had a large M stamped in the leather for Moretti, the baby’s last name because they didn’t know what they were having yet. “Being you guys chose not to find out what you were having I went with the baby’s last name. The journal has three hundred and sixty-five pages that are numbered. You can jot down something small or write a few paragraphs each day. This will come in handy when you need to reflect on the baby’s first year. This way it’ll be you telling the story.”

  “This is beautiful, Bree. Thank you so much. There will be plenty of us here so I’m sure one of us will have something unforgettable to write about each day. I’ve never seen anything like this before. You must tell me where you ordered this from. I wouldn’t mind getting a few designed for song lyrics,” a teary-eyed Layla responded.

  “A few years ago, when I was visiting Olivia in Nashville, I walked into one of the little shops downtown looking for a new pair of boots. I found a little old man and his wife who could make just about anything with leather. The older man, Hector, makes these by hand. I have several of these filled with my stories. I think I’m his best customer when it comes to the journals he makes. I’ve gotten to know Hector and his wife quite well over the last few years. Last month, when I was ordering a few for myself, I happened to mention I was having trouble deciding on a special gift for the baby. He brought up the idea of the baby journal. I guess he and his wife kept these for their children and now grandchildren. So technically he gave me the idea, I just personalized it a bit. I hope you two like it.”

  “We love it, Bree. Thank you for this. I know Layla thinks the same even if she can’t speak for crying right now,” Ben answered with half a chuckle.

  I gave a sobbing Layla a long hug before flopping down in my spot on the floor next to Athena. Shortly after taking my spot on the floor, the conversations and the wine started back up full force. I was caught up in the stories of the band met when I glanced at Romy huddled in the corner of the large sectional with her sketch pad in her lap. Whatever she was working on had her full attention. Every once in a while, she would laugh or smile but never really joined in the talk around her. She was in a zone ignoring everything around her as she worked. I guess that’s what I must look like when I write. Olivia always teased me about zoning everything out but my laptop when I got caught up creating my next story.

  Romy

  I could feel Bree staring at me as I put the final touches on her tattoo. I know I promised her she could choose what she wanted but I couldn’t help myself. If she wanted something different I’d save this one for the future. I’ve got a feeling that once I lay the first bit of ink on the virgin skin of hers I’ll create a monster. Some people can get one and be done but for most one isn’t enough.

  I was aware of the conversations going on around me, but I just couldn’t bring myself to join in. Breezy didn’t know it yet but before she lays her head down tonight she was getting inked by yours truly. Over the last few years, Bree and I have gotten pretty tight, yet I can tell she’s holding something back. I’m probably the only one who knows she writes some amazing stories in those journals of hers. It was a fluke thing that I pulled that much information from her. Two years ago, I happened to find one of her notebooks lying on the counter of the bar one night. Thinking someone had left it behind I opened it to look for a name. I was a few pages in before a bashful Bree asked for it back. It kind of pissed me off. I was just getting into it when she took it took it from me. I could tell she was embarrassed, but the girl had nothing to be embarrassed about. Just the few pages I could read had me wanting to read more. That says a lot for me. It normally takes at least the first three or four chapters of a book to draw me in and she managed to do it with three or four pages.

  That night I waited around until closing to pick her brain. Once I got her talking she began rambling on about the characters and the plot. I found that what I was reading was the fourth book in a series she had thought up. I managed to persuade her to let me read the first three after I offered my unbiased opinion on them. I can gladly say I’ve read all six and I’m anxiously waiting for the seventh. I’ve been trying to push her into publishing what I’ve read so far but she always finds some excuse not to. It’s what gave me the idea for the tattoo. After a little searching, I found the perfect quote by Richard Bach, “a professional writer is an amateur that didn’t quit”.

  So here I sit putting the finishing touches on the tattoo I’ve had in my head for quite some time now. The tat is one of and an old book that is open with the quote in an old English script across the page. I’ve added some color and shading to the book giving it the three-dimensional look. I’m hoping that she’ll be okay with it on top of her foot or maybe the left shoulder. I want to leave the right one open just in case Tank finally gets his head out of his ass and makes her his old lady. The right shoulder is where Tank’s brand will be put if the time comes.

  With the tattoo finished I let myself jump in the gossip going on around the living room. Everyone was sitting around relaxing sipping on glasses of wine with the music playing in the background. I waited for a break in the conversation before calling my girl out. “Okay, so I’ve got a little story to tell. Some of us were present and some weren’t. You see, on our flight out we were playing an intense hand of poker. Carrin over here chickened out and folded, which was probably a good thing, and Breezy was the only one with enough balls to call me out. Of course, I won but it wasn’t money that I won. Breezy, will have to go through with a dare of my choosing. I dared her to let me tattoo her this weekend and she accepted. I gave her some time to figure out what it is she wants and now it’s time to pay the piper huzzy! So, tell me, Bree, what is it you want me to tat on the pretty skin of yours?”

  “I’m still trying to decide. I haven’t been able to make up my mind. I thought about getting a collection of flowers or even an owl but I’m not sure. Can I have a few days to think about what I want? It’s permanent you know,” Bree answered shyly.

  “Honey, I know it’s permanent better than anyone here,” I threw back at her with a wink. “I figured you might have a hard time deciding that’s what I drew something up for you. Why don’t you take a look at this and see if you like it.” I handed my sketch pad over to a trembling Breeanna and waited for her reaction. She stared at the page for what seemed like fo
rever before she broke out into a huge smile. Right then I knew I had her. Now all I had to do was convince her to let me put it on her tonight and on one of the most sensitive spots, there is to put a tattoo. Without speaking I ventured into the kitchen to collect the bottle of whiskey and a couple shot glasses. I’d give her a shot or two to loosen her up. Hopefully, it won't get her too drunk. I didn’t need her bleeding all over the carpet or passing out on me.

  Tank

  Around five am this morning my phone went off waking me from a restless sleep. Throttle told me to get my ass moving. He was bringing the van over to the house and I needed to be ready to roll before he hung up. Like the good soldier I was, I met him in the driveway. My brother informed me that instead of crashing last night Axle, Wall and Zeus decided to take a ride. They had been riding a few hours when they stopped to grab a bite at the truck stop off ninety-five. Instead of eating though they got something much better. Axle spotted the bitch, Yasmin, climbing out of one of the rigs in the parking lot. Zeus was able to run her down and keep her contained while Throttle and I went to collect her in the van.

  Somehow we managed to make it there and get her loaded up without anyone seeing us. Dawn was just breaking when we pulled back on the road to head back to the clubhouse. I drove back so Throttle could man the phone. By the time I pulled in the clubhouse driveway every member, new and old, was waiting out front. I stopped long enough for my brother to lower the window to talk to Wall.

  “I hope Axle’s not wanting to unload the bitch up here. I assume we’re gonna head out to the barn to deal with this piece of shit,” Throttle questioned our enforcer.

  “Fuck yeah! I can’t wait to make this bitch squeal like a fucking pig. I have no intention of taking it easy on this bitch just cuz she’s got a set of tits. Lead the way, Tank. Let’s get this shit started,” our enforcer said before turning to mount his bike. I took my cue and proceeded towards the pole barn in the center of the woods.

  It didn’t take long before we were pulling up to unload the nasty cunt. I let the Blaze and Hawk drag her ass in the barn while I reached for my phone to put a call into Trevor. When I went to pull my phone from the inside pocket of my cut I came up short. I must have left my damn phone on the coffee table in the den over at the house. I didn’t want to raise too much attention but I had an overwhelming need to call and check on Bree. I wanted to make myself believe it was checking on all of the women that were living it up in California for the weekend but I couldn’t. Maybe after I was reassured Breezy was in one piece then I’d asked about everyone else. Without a phone, though, I’d have to rely on someone else making that call. Like clockwork, the man I was going to seek out walked right up to my brother and me.

  “It’s time to figure out what this bitch knows. I got a sick feeling that this might be some kind of distraction for the other fuckers to hit the girls while they're in Cali. I texted Trevor and Dylan as soon as Zeus caught up to the bitch, then I called Ben to let him in on shit. He said he had a full crew watching the house already but he'd make sure to call in a few favors for today when everyone was down on the beach in the open. Their part of the beach is private but it could be accessed if someone could make it up the beach from the public section that was about ten miles down from them,” Axle informed us before turning to head in the barn to deal with the bitch that would hopefully lead us to that fucker, Carmen.

  Bree

  I’m not sure what hurts worse, my shoulder or my damn head. I remember fulfilling my end of the dare last night but not much after that. At first, Romy was wanting to put the tattoo on my right foot. Thanks to a little back up from Madison and Trevor I finally convinced her to put it on my left shoulder. I remember Romy finishing up around twelve thirty this morning and then proceeding to pour liquor down my throat until after three. I remember dancing with the girls around the patio outside while Layla and Ben sat on the lounger taking it all in. I wasn’t as bold as the rest of the women with their moves but I surely wasn’t my normal shy self either. I didn’t even flinch when everyone started snapping pictures and selfies. Heck, I even pulled my phone out to take a few. I was in the middle of trying to get a group selfie when I stumbled backward and landed hard on my butt. Thankfully Trevor took mercy on me and helped me up the stairs and put me to bed. I’ve never really had anything other than a glass or two of wine and I’ve never been drunk before.

  This by far has been the best weekend of my life. I just hope that when this weekend’s over there will be more to come. I want so bad to belong to this group it hurts. My biggest fear is that when things settle down around the club I’ll be back to only being an acquaintance. Until the time comes though I plan on enjoying it to the fullest. It’s the only reason that I’ve found myself in the bathroom splashing water on my face at nine o’clock in the morning. Today is our last full day here and all of us are supposed to be spending it on the beach. So with a pounding head, I managed to slip on my bathing suit and head out to start the day.

  When I walked back into the bedroom I found it completely empty. Looks like everybody else beat me downstairs leaving me to get ready. Afer looking around to make sure no one else was in the room I walked over to the long mirror hanging on the back of the closet door to take myself in. I had on a pale blue one-piece suit that had a little skirt around the waist to help hide my thick thighs. It looked like something a fifty-year-old grandmother would be wearing while chasing her grandkids up and down the beach. Pushing the thought out of my head I turned to dig in my bag. I’d just cover up with my old Stones tee-shirt. It wasn’t like I was planning on getting in the water anyway. I wasn’t expecting to see Momma Bear standing in the doorway looking at me with her mouth hanging open. She had on a black two-piece that showed off the massive orchid tattoo that ran from her hip bone down her entire right leg. At forty-five the woman had a body that would put most twenty-year-olds to shame. The enthusiasm I had mere seconds before soon faded into a sense of panic. I made a mad dash to my bag grabbing my shirt to pull on before she could stare longer than she already had.

  I was in the middle of pulling the shirt over my head when I felt a soft hand stop me. “Why on earth are you covering yourself up, girl,” Momma Bear asked in a soft voice. I didn’t know what to say so I just lowered my head and shrugged my shoulders. With her hand under my chin, she slowly raised my head so that I was eye to eye with her before she spoke. “I have a feeling that you're not comfortable with your body dear. You never wear anything that compliments your curviness. You look like you're wearing a suit that my mother would wear. I can’t even say that because she wouldn’t be caught dead in that rag you're wearing. How old is that thing anyway?”

  “I’m not sure, probably seven or eight years old. It’s the one I the summer before I started high school I think. I don’t get to wear a bathing suit very often so it’s never really mattered to me. Nobody wants to see all this on display,” I answer trying to crack a joke towards the end.

  “Honey. I’ll let you get away with putting yourself down one time and one time only. You are absolutely gorgeous just the way you are. I would kill to have those hips and ass of yours. I’m a firm believer that half of what you think of yourself is determined by the clothes you wear. Now stay right here and I’ll be right back. I packed a couple suits, I’ll go grab one for you. It might be a little skimpy covering your ass but the top should fit perfectly. You and I both have more than a handful of boobs. We're going to put you in something you can’t help but feel sexy in.”

  I watched her back as she ran off to the bedroom across the hall. I was still standing in shock when she returned minutes later holding a deep burgundy string bikini. “I see that look on your face and before you say anything, try it on for me. If this doesn’t make you feel any better than that blue rag you have on then we’ll make a quick trip to one of the surf shops around here and get you something else. Now go put that thing on and let me see how it looks. No peeking until you can use the mirror in here to get the full view.”


  I took the scrap of fabric from her before heading back to the bathroom to get changed. The material felt good to touch. Much better than this tight itchy thing I was wearing. I was surprised to find the borrowed suit fit just the way she told me it would. The top cover my large chest while making my cleavage look like something off a magazine cover. The bottoms were fine around the waist and in the front. The back however covered most of my rear end but barely.

  I walked back into the room only to find Tabby was now standing next to a grinning Momma Bear. Tabby was also in a two-piece only her top was a halter style but the same color as the one Momma Bear was wearing; black. Although Tabby had a smaller build than her friend, she too looked too good for a woman her age. It must be something in the water around Great Falls that kept the older generation of women around the club looking the way they do without the diets and trainers my mother used on daily basis. I can only imagine what she would have to say about me squeezing my fat butt in a two-piece.

  “Girlfriend, you are totally keeping that one. You look a hell of a lot better in that color than I do. You're lucky the beach is privately owned or you’d have all the hot surfer fuckers following you around today. Wait until Tank sees you in this. He won’t know what hit him. You ought to let me take a picture to send him. That boy won’t know what to do with himself,” Tabby said while spinning me around to look at myself in the mirror.

  I didn’t say anything at first. I turned from side to side taking it all in. Not sure I would have to worry about stealing all the male attention in a crowd of all the women I’d be with today but I have to admit I looked good in this. I felt good wearing this. It was a little confidence booster I needed to get my weekend back on track. My subconscious was telling me to cover myself up with the tee shirt but the little voice screaming in my ears was telling me to go with it. I was among friends here today and on a private beach. There was nothing to be ashamed of.