Striker (Black Rebel Riders' MC Book 4) Read Free Page B

Colt; he just couldn't give me his heart. Maybe it is unfair to hold the things that I do against him, but he cost me Trouble and my one chance to have a man who would be true to me. I know Trouble would have never broken my heart; he would have been mine 'til the day I died. However, I'll never have that. Trouble is gone my heart is broken. Love either grows or it dies and I am afraid the love I have felt for Striker has died completely.
    I went to Striker one night…well a few months after Colt was born; I was ready to discuss our son with him. When I got to his apartment, the door was cracked, I started to knock, but the door fell open. Letting myself in I went to look for him and that is when I heard the moans coming from the bedroom. I couldn't help myself; curiosity got the best of me as my feet carried me mindlessly forward.
    I stopped just outside of the bedroom, the room we made Colt one fateful night. The moans were louder, they were lustful, sinful even. Peeking around the entryway, I could not believe my eyes. There he was and he obviously wasn't alone. Striker had Aspen bent over the bed fucking her from behind; his head was thrown back as he pumped her ferociously. Her arms were bound behind her back and he was holding them in place, it was so erotic. He spanked her ass, repeatedly. She was loving every second of it too. My gaze traveled forward, a part of me liked watching him, seeing his muscles tense, and flex covered in sweat.
    My eyes roamed over his tattoos stopping short when I took in what was now covering most of his back. He had a tattoo I had never seen before; it was of a beautiful magnolia tree, just like the one we had planted as kids. It was beautiful. I wanted to run my fingers across it, Aspen here or not, I wanted to touch it, but I managed to keep my feet planted. As ashamed as I was for intruding, I kept watching unable to turn away, wondering what it would be like if it were me with him instead.
    Heat flushed my cheeks, but then he collapsed falling over her, pressing her down in the bed telling her how much he loved her. My heart couldn't take it. Hearing him whisper the things, he once said to me, all of the color vanished from my face. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to hit her; my legs wouldn't carry me out of that room.
    My head was spinning as I sunk to the floor. What was left of my heart, retreated deep within the walls I was trying to let down tonight. I knew immediately that there would only ever be one man to have my heart—my son. I don't know how long I sat there unable to breathe, unable to feel anything, until Striker was crouched, down in front of me wearing a pair of shorts. He was caressing my cheek as the tears fell from my face. Aspen was nowhere to be seen, I didn't remember hearing her leave. Was she still there? I didn't care if she was.
    "Don't touch me," I flinched from his guarded expression.
    "Baby, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. You never called me; you won't let me near you or Colt. I don't know what you want from me." He sat in front of me waiting for me to tell him something. I wanted him to shake me, to grab me—kiss me—fuck me like he did her, to tell me he didn't love her–that I owned every piece of him, mind body and soul, like he owned me. I wanted him to say we would work things out, that he wanted to be a dad. However, those words never left his lips. 
    Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I mustered up the courage to tell him to fuck off. It about killed me but I did it. "I don't want anything from you; you aren't ready to be what I need you to be. Stay away from me, stay away from my son. We don't want you or need you in our lives."  I walked out of there with my head held high.
    It would have been easy for me to turn my back on Colt like my father did me; I was consumed with grief for Trouble and for what Striker and I would never be. Colt was my saving grace. If it weren't for that precious baby boy, I don't know what would have