Black Sheep (Rawkfist MC Book 1) Read online

  Black Sheep

  Bijou Hunter

  Copyright © 2016 Bijou Hunter

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  *****

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  For more information about this book and author visit:

  http://www.bijouhunterbooks.com

  Cover Design

  Photographer: Zai Aragon

  Source: Shutterstock

  Dedication

  Freckles, Tigger, Pooh, and Roo for making the sun shine

  Mustang Sally for embracing my snark

  Aimie Grey for listening to me bitch and moan

  Saucy Sarah for not pointing and laughing

  Naughty Nicole for being a unicorn farting rainbows

  Book Summary

  My club brothers call me Boy Scout. Hell, if I ain’t an enforcer with a heart of gold. I avoid women, knowing they’re trouble, and I don’t take chances anymore. My hands stay clean when they’re not covered in blood for the club. My life is downright dull until I meet Justice Sheerer and realize I haven’t been really living.

  The bubbly blonde has a motor mouth and confidence to spare. As the daughter of my mentor, she should be off limits in Tumbling Rock. Except Justice refuses to follow the town’s rules, and now I'm breaking them too.

  No more Mister Nice Guy. Justice is mine for the taking, and no one will stand in my way. Not even the guy in the mirror.

  Table of Contents

  1 Black Sheep

  2 Black Sheep

  3 Black Sheep

  4 Black Sheep

  5 Black Sheep

  6 Black Sheep

  7 Black Sheep

  8 Black Sheep

  9 Black Sheep

  10 Black Sheep

  11 Black Sheep

  12 Black Sheep

  13 Black Sheep

  14 Black Sheep

  15 Black Sheep

  16 Black Sheep

  17 Black Sheep

  18 Black Sheep

  19 Black Sheep

  20 Black Sheep

  21 Black Sheep

  22 Black Sheep

  23 Black Sheep

  24 Black Sheep

  25 Black Sheep

  26 Black Sheep

  27 Black Sheep

  28 Black Sheep

  29 Black Sheep

  30 Black Sheep

  31 Black Sheep

  32 Black Sheep

  33 Black Sheep

  34 Black Sheep

  35 Black Sheep

  36 Black Sheep

  37 Black Sheep

  38 Black Sheep

  39 Black Sheep

  40 Black Sheep

  41 Black Sheep

  42 Black Sheep

  43 Black Sheep

  44 Black Sheep

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  About Bijou

  1 Black Sheep

  Justice

  Back in Indianapolis, I was on my way to the prestigious position of Burger King assistant manager. I'd gone through the certification process. I'd kissed all the right asses. I successfully scared lesser employees. Just when I was due for my big shot, my mother had the marvelous idea to return to our hometown in West Virginia. As her dutiful daughter, I followed and lost my dream job.

  The best comparable position I can find in Tumbling Rock is working as a shift manager at the glamorous Rite-Rock Mart. The 24-hours convenience store is located near the interstate, making it a rather hot spot in town.

  After finishing my first day, I strut like a badass when I pick up my half-sister Poppy from high school. The moody teen slides into my sleek silver Chevy Trax, frowns at me, and turns up the radio.

  “How was school?” I ask the blonde butthead. “Did you make any friends yet?”

  Tossing her long hair over her shoulder, she mutters, “I’m above friends and beyond caring.”

  “So no.”

  Poppy glances at me and smirks. “Can we listen to something less shitty?”

  “Since your day sucked and mine was the best ever, feel free to control the radio.”

  The station flipper flips through a ton of stations, complaining a lot about country music and claiming classic rock gives her kidney stones. I don’t listen to her whining, knowing she’s having trouble adjusting to our new reality in Tumbling Rock. She left behind only one friend in Indianapolis, but that friend was well-trained to deal with Poppy’s moods. Finding someone willing to endure her bullshit could be difficult in a small town.

  Compared to my whiner sister, I’m like a dog with two tails about my current situation. I don’t even miss Burger King or Indy. I didn’t have many friends to miss or a single man to slobber over. This new start is working out for me, and it’s only the first week.

  I’m so busy relishing how I rule the world that I miss my gas tank nearly on empty. Forced to stop at a tiny station a few miles from our new house in the boondocks, I walk inside to pay since their card machines don't work. I stand in a long line while the woman in the front chats with the clerk about tomatoes.

  I blame my arrogance for distracting me. My mind is focused on how I'd turn this turd station around and never notices my wallet go missing.

  By the time I get to the front, I'm tearing apart my purse to find the wallet I know at this point isn't inside.

  "Ma'am, why don't you step aside, so others don't have to wait," says the clerk.

  I want to freak out on her, but my arrogance disappeared along with my money and credit cards. "Someone took my wallet," is all I can manage.

  "Sorry. Maybe you can call someone."

  "Someone?" I ask, frowning. "Do you mean the police?"

  The clerk is in her late teens, and only a few years younger than me, but I feel like an old woman staring at her. Heck, I even have the urge to tell her to spit out her damn gum and learn some manners. Since I’m not her mom, I only storm out, pissed at the world.

  Seeing me stomping around, Poppy gets out of the car. "Did you leave it at work?" she asks after I whine about what happened.

  "I was looking through it while waiting for you at the school. I had it until I got to this turd paradise."

  "You should have been more careful."

  Every once in a long while, an older sister is forced to kill her younger sister simply to make a point. I can’t help wondering if Poppy currently sees her life flashing before her eyes.

  "Don't take it out on me," Poppy says when I give her the evil eye.

  "Heard about your problem," says a man from behind me. "Maybe I can help you out."

  Feeling helpless, I turn around and open my mouth to complain. There's no denying I'm pissed about my wallet. Oh, boy, am I pissed!

  I'm also a red-blooded woman, and this tall drink of whiskey is drool-inducing delicious. I casually glance at his hands to look for a wedding ring. He's sporting a little bling, but I don't have time to size up on what fingers he's wearing them.

  "Are you in a serious relationship?" I ask, taking his left hand and realizing the ring finger is free.

  Poppy shifts behind me. "The level of subtly is mind-boggling."

  "No, babe," says the man of my naughty dreams. "Wait right here."

  I watch the dark-haired stud ride his black Harley out of the hillside parking lot and onto the road.

  "We should call Mom," Poppy whines.

  Staring at where the sex god drove off, I mumble, "My future lover gave us a
n order, so shut up while I submit to his will."

  Poppy ignores me and dials the phone. She's very distrustful of my authority. I think it's because I forgot to pick her up from school a few times. In my defense, I forget to do trivial errands a lot. My neglect of her wasn't personal.

  The Harley hunk roars back into the parking lot less than five minutes later while Poppy whines on the phone to our older sister, Journey. I can’t hear exactly what she's saying, but I suspect I'm the villain.

  My focus remains on the lust object of my wet dreams as he parks his Harley in front of me.

  "Is this it?" he asks, handing over my wallet.

  "Yes, however did you find it?"

  "Luck," he says, scratching at the back of his neck. "The thief thought you were tourists. Happens sometimes, but it won't happen to you again."

  "Thank you. I'm Justice."

  "Court,” he says, giving me the grin of a man who knows how to get what he wants and I’m hoping his latest goal is learning the details of what I hide in my panties. “I better let you get your sister home. She looks pretty mad."

  I ignore where he gestures towards Poppy. "I really appreciate you saving me the trials of ordering new cards. Why don't I buy you dinner as a thank you?"

  I worry my flirting is too restrained, so I caress his tanned forearm and give him a massive smile. I have a great smile too and feel fairly confident it'll seal the deal.

  Court awkwardly laughs, scratching at his arm where I touched him. “I’ll take you up on that offer in a decade or so. Until then, I'll stick with saying you're welcome and have a nice day."

  With that bizarre brush off, Court rides away. I watch him go while mentally replaying what he said. Men are weird.

  "Journey is coming to get us," Poppy says from behind me, having missed the entire conversation.

  "I got my wallet back."

  "Did he shoot you down?" Poppy asks.

  "Said he might take me out in ten years. What the butt does that mean?"

  Shrugging, Poppy slides back inside the car. After hurrying into the store to pay, I pump gas and join her.

  "Ten years? Do you think he's going to prison and wants to hook up when he gets out?"

  Poppy shrugs again. "Or he thought you were a kid, and he doesn't date little girls. Wouldn't be the first time a guy thought you were jailbait."

  "Son of a bitch," I grumble, messing with my blonde pixie cut. "I look plenty old enough."

  "Not really."

  "Shut up."

  Poppy pats my arm, just as I did Court's. "I'm sorry you won't be able to submit to a stranger's sexual needs. That must be quite a blow to your bucket list."

  "I regret encouraging you to talk when you were a baby."

  Poppy only smiles and texts Journey to call off the rescue mission. We head home where my mom has returned from her first day at work too.

  Christine Earlham left Tumbling Rock when I was five, and Journey was seven. Wanting a fresh start, the mother of two ditched her hometown, friends, family, and my father. Moving to Indianapolis, she worked like a dog for years to get her veterinarian degree while also holding a full-time job and raising two kids alone.

  Eventually, things settled down. She married a meathead named Paul, had Poppy, and built a veterinarian business. Life was solid in Indianapolis, but I’ve been told midlife crisis happen to even the most well-adjusted people.

  Her grandfather died a decade back, leaving her several acres of nothing land. Then a year ago, she decided to move back to West Virginia. She ordered a modular house for the lot, sold her business, and divorced the meathead. All so Christine could return to a place that haunts her nightmares.

  My mom is strong, fun and smart. I grew up feeling cherished and given the confidence to face my fears. With that said, Christine is a fucking nitwit when it comes to my father, Jared Sheerer.

  “When he’s in my life, I become an extension of him,” Christine once said. “A willing extension too. I forget to be me. I’m only us, and us is really about him. Jared doesn’t do that to me on purpose, but the man’s magnetism smothers my independent nature.”

  So she’s spent nearly two decades avoiding him. All of our visits with Jared were handoffs in Turbo, West Virginia. She never did step foot in Tumbling Rock. He never visited Indianapolis. We’ve lived separately for a long time. Now we’re all in one place. A small place too, but my intelligent mother still hopes to avoid her ex.

  I pray I’m never so stupid about a man. Though I can imagine going nuts over a sexy stud like Court Whatever His Last Name Is.

  “How was school?” Christine asks Poppy.

  “I learned many fascinating facts and created a lifetime’s worth of amazing memories.”

  “Good to hear. How was work, Journey?”

  My older sister is an ultrasound technician, spending her days looking at babies and weird masses. She looks quite beautiful in her white lab coat at work. At home, she’s a slob in sleeveless T-shirts and cutoff shorts. She regularly walks around barefoot and refuses to do anything with her messy, light brown hair.

  “I’ve always had better taste than you,” I tell her later while we watch TV in our lavender-colored family room.

  Journey glances at me with her blue eyes and then arches one of her bushy brows. “I’ve always known you felt that way.”

  Grinning, I lean my head on her shoulder and pet the cat sitting on her lap. “I like my new job. All of those summers working as a Burger King cashier, I dreamed of being in charge. Now I am.”

  “I should come in one day and complain about the service,” Journey says, chewing on beef jerky like a typical Neanderthal.

  “You’ll have to wear shoes.”

  “Might not be worth it,” she says, wiggling the toes on her flat feet.

  Stretched out on the floor, Poppy focuses on our mother. “How was work?”

  My younger sister prefers sitting on the ground. She crawled when she knew how to walk. She sits on the floor rather than use a chair. When we were growing up, Christine encouraged our quirky ways. I can’t help wondering if that was a mistake. My sisters grew up to be loons.

  “I met a man,” I announce an hour later when a commercial comes on.

  “I hate live TV,” Journey mumbles.

  Resting my head on her lap now after taking the cat’s place, I frown at Journey. “Pay attention to me.”

  “You met a man.”

  “He was so very handsome. My knight in shining armor.”

  “He blew her off,” Poppy announces as our two cats turn her into a bed.

  “He was just polite,” I reply, lying so casually I feel a sense of pride at my skill.

  Cuddled in her La-Z-Boy, Christine is nearly hidden under a pink blanket. Our only dog snuggles at her feet, partially covered by the Chenille throw. “He’s the one who helped with your wallet, right?”

  “Yes. He was very gallant.”

  Journey plays with my hair, having decided I’m her pet since I got my pixie cut.

  “Maybe he’s married,” she suggests.

  “No.”

  “Maybe he thinks you’re gross.” Poppy helpfully adds.

  “But I’m not gross.”

  “Opinions vary on everything,” Mom says, butchering her words with a tremendous yawn.

  “I think I might try to track him down and…”

  The three of them groan while sharing a collective eye roll.

  “No stalking,” Journey grunts, smacking my nose like a bad dog. “Men here won’t find it cute, and you’ll end up decomposing in the woods.”

  “Not even a shallow grave?” I ask.

  “Nope. Too much effort for a crazy stalker.”

  “I’m not crazy.”

  “Tell that to your long list of stalking victims.”

  “They all lived,” I mutter, sitting up. “I want a real boyfriend. This guy and I most definitely shared a very meaningful connection.”

  “He blew you off,” Poppy reminds me.

&n
bsp; “Because he's a polite man with good manners.”

  Poppy rolls her eyes and focuses on the TV. “Delusional.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “In news unrelated to future restraining orders,” Journey interrupts, “Dad is taking us out to dinner tomorrow.”

  Christine’s lips remain shut. Despite her silence, I feel her anxiety and know she’ll hide when he arrives. How she plans to hide from him for the rest of her life in such a Lilliputian town is a question for another day.

  I return to using Journey as my pillow while she lovingly pets me. My mind lingers on thoughts of Court Mister Sexy Pants and his sexy smile and sexy dark eyes and sexy everything else. I don’t know how to find him, but like with Christine avoiding Jared, I suspect the town is too small for me to avoid running into Court again.

  2 Black Sheep

  Court

  Life is a piss in the eye sometimes. I ought to be used to it by now, but I keep expecting shit just to work itself out. When I was ten, my mom got a new job where she’d make enough money along with my dad’s salary for us to move out of the rundown trailer park I called home. Two weeks later, my dad ran off and stayed gone. Mom’s big dreams died with his goodbye letter. Like a chump, I still hoped life might get easier.

  I’ve never been great at anything. Not good with my hands. Not athletically inclined. I’m not a frigging book reading know-it-all. I had no way of standing out in a town so small that everyone sticks out. I did luck out in high school when my father’s good looks kicked in, leaving me broad-shouldered, tall, and the interest to all of the girls.

  No way didn’t I manage to fuck that up too.

  Today is another example of how things just never go my way. I think I’m doing a favor for my mentor Jared Sheerer by helping out his daughter. Easy enough.

  Except she ends up looking like a damn model. Tall, thin, and sporting a short hairstyle, Justice isn’t like anyone else in town. I’d be a fool if I didn’t enjoy her fingers on my arm. I haven’t had a woman touch me that way in too damn long.

  I don’t know how I went so many years without sex. Shit distracted me, and I got out of the habit of chasing tail. The main reason is likely my son being old enough to hear about my conquests. While I want to do right by him, I also want to avoid a repeat of a train wreck like his mother.