Saylor Chapter 9

Christmas had come and gone a few days ago. It had been an experience to be at the club for it. The ladies went all out decorating, cooking, and baking for it. I helped where I could. If I'd been more mobile, I would've helped them do more, but they kept me seated for the most part, resting my leg. Doctor's orders, according to Zara. I think she was kinda milking it. While the wounds hurt from time to time, they were healing well. She told me how good they were looking every time she checked them. Due to her care and the antibiotics she put me on, I didn't develop an infection, either.

With the number of kids at the compound, Christmas Day had been insane, but I ended up enjoying the noise and laughter. Everyone got in on the fun. Since Christmas Day was on a Friday, the whole club had a three-day weekend. The ladies told me to wait until I saw what it would be like with the other chapter here with their kids. I couldn't imagine.

Yesterday, two days after Christmas, Bull, Jocelyn, Ace, Devyn, Demon, Zara, and the kids packed up to go to Dublin Falls for a few days. Now that there were kids on both sides, the days of Bull going there for all holidays were at an end. It was what he did in the beginning before he met Jocelyn and had Caeden and Corinne.

Tonight, I'd joined everyone at the clubhouse again. I was hanging in the common room. Most had gone back to work today since it was Monday. I was hanging out with a group of the ladies. I asked Ilara why Demon and Zara took their kids and went to Dublin Falls, yet no one else did.

"While all the guys in this chapter who've been here for years are close to Harlow, Demon is the one who's the closest. He's like her older brother. All of them are protective of her. Heck, they're protective of all us women, but she's a club princess, the original. That's why they went."

I thought it was amazing they had such close ties and feelings for people who weren't blood-related, although that didn't guarantee you would have someone care about you. I made that remark out loud.

"That's so wonderful. I hope everyone knows how lucky they are. You have no guarantee that blood relatives care about you, even though some think so. Oh, I have a question. What is a club princess?"

"Well, let's start with a princess. A daughter to a club member is considered a club princess. They're protected and watched like hawks. It's a big deal to mess with one. Not to say messing with sons won't get you into trouble, but bikers are even more protective when it comes to their girls. It's like how they are with their old ladies, plus a smidge more. For example, the guys who have them swear their daughters will never date, or if they do, not until they're forty or older. Stuff like that," she explained.

"So Tarin, Hope, and all the girls here are princesses. Wow. I'd hate to be a guy trying to come here to pick one up for a date. He'd shit himself. I'm glad I don't fall into a category like that. Not that anyone ever cared anyway."

"Never say never," Jayla said cryptically.

I went to ask her what she meant, but I was beaten to saying anything by Rylan. She was Maverick's lady. I found her to be a tad quieter than many of the others. Aria was the same way. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what was your family like growing up? Did you have one, or did you grow up in foster care, and that's why you do so much on your own? If I'm overstepping, please say so," she hurriedly tagged on the end.

I smiled to put her at ease. "You're not overstepping. I didn't grow up in foster care. I grew up in a single-parent home, though. It was just me and my mom. Honestly, she wasn't someone who should've ever had a kid. She resented me. Said I ruined her life. She got pregnant one night after a drunken night of sex with a guy she said she didn't even know his full name. She claimed it was because of me that she had never found someone to marry her. She didn't win any mother-of-the-year awards." I snorted, recalling her.

"What the fuck?" Player's loud voice made me jump. I had no idea he was around. Most of the guys were hanging at the pool tables, talking at the bar, or playing darts, according to what the women had told me when we got together at one of the large tables.

"Oh my God, way to scare me to death, Player," I told him as I put a hand on my chest.

"I'm sorry, babe, but are you serious? Did she say that to you? Christ, tell me more about her. Where does she live?" he snapped.

"I am serious. She said she only knew his first name, Michael. She claimed she named me Saylor because he was one. His Navy uniform was what caught her attention. Mom always wanted to have a man take care of her. She was constantly getting boyfriend after boyfriend, but they never hung around long, or she'd dump them for someone new and better in her mind. None of them would keep or marry her. She said it was because she had me. When I was young, it hurt. As I got older, I knew she was just an unhappy woman who took it out on me. I asked her once, why she ever had me then. Why not have an abortion or put me up for adoption?" I stopped, recalling her answer.

"What did she say?" Brynlee, Tank's old lady, asked, sounding aghast.

"She said at least by having and keeping me, she got money from the state. She only sporadically worked, so she relied on welfare and food stamps in addition to what she could get out of whatever man she was hooked up with at the time if he'd give her anything. She got more money and food stamps by having me. I smarted off and said if that was the case, why not have more kids? She told me one brat was enough," I said with a shrug. I'd gotten over my hurt due to my mom years ago. I was a thirty-year-old woman. My mommy issues were long over.

"What a goddamn bitch! Please tell me where I can find her?" Player muttered. I heard more muttering, which told me some of the other guys had moved closer and heard what I said. Not wanting their sympathy, I downplayed it.

"It's not a big deal. I grew up, and as soon as I graduated high school, I went to the Corps. I was determined to show her that a woman could take care of herself and didn't need a man to do it or to define her worth. I chose the Marines because they were tough, and I knew I wanted to be in the military, not only to serve but also for the money it would give me for college. I got the satisfaction of graduating from boot camp and entering military police training before she died. Of course, she thought I was crazy for doing it. What man would want a woman who was essentially a man? The State buried her, and I went home only long enough to pack the few things I still had there that she hadn't thrown out or sold. I never went back. End of story, and I'm in a much better place now. Okay, enough about me. Tell me about your families."

I was desperate to divert the attention and sympathy away from me. Growing up the way I had only made me stronger and more determined to be able to care for myself. In a weird way, I owed her. By not wanting to be anything like her, I'd become a strong, independent woman and Marine.

"One more question. Would you have liked to meet your dad if you'd had the chance?" Brynlee asked.

"Maybe. I always liked to imagine if he knew about me, he'd want to meet me. I would've liked to have a dad, as long as he wasn't like the losers she brought home all the time. Most of them ignored me, wanted to smack me around, or when I got older, a few wanted to get feely."

"Jesus, it keeps getting worse," Player snarled. "Tell me none of them did more," he said lowly.

"They didn't. She kept them away from me after the second one tried to feel me up, and I broke his nose when I punched him."

This made them laugh. A few even cheered. I was smiling as I relaxed back in my chair. The ladies began to talk about their families. A hand touching my back made me realize that Player was sitting behind me. His warm breath touched my neck. His spicy cologne hit my nostrils. I inhaled but tried to do it causally. I loved whatever it was he wore. These past couple of weeks, since they'd gotten me to stay at the compound, had been a test for me.

It wasn't a test in being able to navigate my new home and not get hurt. It was a test not to want Player more. Before, he'd prevented me from becoming totally enthralled by him because of his awful attitude. However, he had been acting the opposite way for weeks now, making my resistance almost nonexistent. The only things that prevented me from climbing him and begging him to take me to bed were the knowledge I'd only be a passing one-night fling, and if by some rare chance, he had changed his mind and wanted more, a player didn't change. I knew it. I found out the hard way with Jonas.

It was a daily struggle for me not to give in. I found myself alone at night in my bed, trying to talk sense into myself so as not to do it. My dreams weren't helping matters. Instead of being nightmares where I dreamed of my attacker, the one we were no closer to identifying, they were erotic ones about Player and me. I would fight them until I'd give in and have to touch myself and get off, usually a couple of times before I was able to fall back to sleep or to fall asleep in the first place. If something didn't give soon, as in they found the man and I could go home, I'd have to ask to be taken to the house. I'd get more of my clothing and sneak in my favorite toys.

His fingers were tracing random swirls on my back. I was about to ask him if he wanted something or if he was just trying to drive me insane when my cell phone rang. It scared me because I wasn't expecting it, although whoever truly knew when it would ring? I knew it was mine not only because it vibrated but because it announced who was calling. A must when you weren't able to read the display. When I heard who the call was from, I broke out in a cold sweat and started to shake.

"Call from Leavenworth Penitentiary," the computerized voice on my phone stated. It said it loud and clear.

Everyone around me got quiet. I sat there frozen. What jarred me from that state was the click of nails on the floor and then Freya nuzzling my hand. She was trained to alert me to my phone, but I think, in this case, it was more to comfort me. She had an uncanny ability to sense my moods. She licked my hand and then bumped me with her head. I knew whatever this call was about would mean nothing but trouble and, most likely, danger for me.