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Ruined 2

Ruin 

“You like what you're looking at son?” My voice was low, non-threatening but the boy jumped like I had screamed at him. Taking a step back, he dropped his hands to his side, casting his eyes in my direction to check my reaction before he nodded. “Yes sir.” 

I grinned, the lad had some manners on him

And was obviously not from around here. Any of the local kids would have known better than to even step up to my bike.

“I didn’t touch it or anything.” He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. “I promise.”

I grinned, leaning back against the wall. “That’s good you should never touch another man’s bike.”

He nodded thoughtfully and for the first time since I had opened my mouth, he fully looked at me. “Whoa…” he mumbled and took another step backwards as I grinned at him. I knew what he saw. All six foot three of me, the beard, the tattoos. The leather cut I wore proudly across my chest. This was a good kid, no doubt from an affluent family. It was obvious I was the first biker he had ever come into contact with. 

“You like bikes huh?” I let my eyes soften. There was just something about this kid. He looked strangely familiar but I knew I hadn't met him before. 

“Yeah but my mum….”

I laughed, “mums are the worst, aren’t they? My mum hated it when I started riding but sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do right?”

He nodded his head eagerly, brown hair falling into his eyes. “My mums pretty cool. She just doesn't like bikes.” He stated matter of factly and I felt my smile disappear. Yeah, I bet his mum didn’t. I knew the type, Miss Prim and Proper, she probably wore pearls and drove a flashy car. 

“But you do?”

“Yeah I do, I like this bike a lot.” Suddenly he looked guilty. His eyes darting towards the street corner. “I should go and get my mum her ice cream” 

It was only then that I noticed the note clutched in his hand. “You probably should.” I nodded. “But if you are ever about and you see my bike, you come into the garage and ask for me. I’ll tell you all about her.” I tapped my chest. “I’m Ruin.”

“Parker George.” He held out his hand. Quite the proper little gentleman. “I really should be going now though, we are only here to see my grandad because he’s sick.”

I gave him a nod. Yeah, I was right. A definite out of towner. “Well, it was great meeting you son.”

         ***

Cooks was unusually quiet when I pushed through the door three minutes later. I should be heading home but I had business to discuss with Cutter before I left. And it was business that couldn't wait. 

Now, usually, Cooks had a kind of relaxed easy-going atmosphere. It was a local bar, owned by the club. Outsiders didn't come in here, and if they did, they didn't stay long. But today something was wrong. 

Everyone looked tense. Talking in hushed whispers. and it sent goosebumps spirally up my arms. 

“What’s going on?” I crossed my arms on the sticky wood of the bar. I didn’t bother with hello or ordering a drink. I didn’t have to. Everyone here knew what I drank. 

Dark rimmed eyes flicked over in my direction for a second, and a pink tongue poked from between glossy lips. 

Yeah, I knew what she wanted. What they always wanted. And any other time I may have taken her up on her offer but not today. Today I just wanted to get back on the road.  

I wanted my business here to be over so I could …. My eyes fell on Cutter. 

The old psychopath looked deep in thought. And he had a mug of coffee in front of him instead of his usual pint.

What the hell? Cutter not drinking? And the bar being as quiet as a graveyard? Something was really wrong here.

“What’s going on?” I asked again. 

“She’s back.” Cutter didn’t turn to me. He just sat there, his back ramrod straight.

“Who is?”

“Avery. Avery is back and she brought her kid.” 

Well fuck. Avery fucking Waters was back? And she had a kid. For a second I let myself remember how she was back when I first met her. All that girly enthusiasm, and that dark hair I couldn’t help but fist as I ploughed into her from behind. She had been some of the sweetest pussy I had ever had. But it was never her pussy I dreamt of, no. It was those damn tear-filled brown eyes as I ruined her life with just a few words.

And now she was back, and she had a kid?

“No way.” I pushed myself up from the bar, heading towards the exit with my hands pushed into my pockets. 

The boy with the familiar brown eyes. The boy who I had been talking to only a few minutes ago. That was Avery Waters' kid. That’s why I recognised him, he looked like his mum. 

I hit the pavement, my eyes searching for him. And it was only then that I saw her. 

Brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Diamond studs in her ears. She looked the same but different. She looked confident and content. 

And damn beautiful still. 

As if she could feel my eyes on her, her head turned, and for a split second our eyes met. There was a moment of shock before she schooled her face into casual indifference and turned back to the road.

She could pretend all she wanted. It was what she was good at after all but there was no doubt in my mind.

She was back.

****

“Cutter.” My voice was loud, and the old man finally turned to me. The question was clear on his face. “Avery, where is she staying?” There would be no way she would be staying at her old family home, the place was little more than a hovel these days and I couldn’t see her taking her lad there. 

“She said she was going to get a hotel or something for her and the kid.”

He didn’t sound bothered at all. His daughter had come back in his hour of need and the old drunk couldn’t even be bothered to ask her where she was staying. Not that I was surprised. He had kicked her out on her ass without a second thought all those years ago. He hadn’t cared then, and he sure as hell didn’t care now. 

“Parker.” I spat it out, aware that more than one pair of eyes had trained on me. “Your grandkid is called Parker.” For some reason, it bothered me that he didn’t even know his grandson's name. 

Red rimmed eyes flicked up to meet mine, there was a challenge in them. A challenge I stared down almost instantly.

Sure back in the day he had been a force to reckon with but not now. Now he was nothing but the town drunk. The club did what they could for him but everyone knew he couldn’t be trusted. 

He had thrown his daughter out on the streets after all and a man like that had no loyalty. Of course, I was half to blame for that as well. But at least I had the good graces to feel bad about it over the years. I doubted Cutter felt a damn thing. 

“What do you care?” 

Now that was the question, wasn’t it? Why did I care? I didn’t have a clue but I couldn't deny that I did. 

“Sober the fuck up man.” I snarled it at him. “You got a second chance with your girl, don’t fucking ruin it.” 

He had said she was going to stay in a hotel, and they weren’t many of those around. Which meant it was going to be easy to find her. 

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