Huntress
First chapter of my new novel. Release date TBA.
Okay, I might not be the smartest woman in the world, but that doesn’t mean I’m dumb enough not to realize that all was not what it seemed when it came to my parents.
Although they attempted to hide their true nature behind airs and graces, Jade, my mother, let her tongue slip occasionally, allowing me a glimpse of her previous life. And when my parents argued, boy could they swear. It was like an explosion, as though they’d been holding it in for too long. All of a sudden, they would remember themselves, look at one another in disgust, and then return to their charade.
Another clue that the pretty picture was a painting after all, was their association with Beth and Clay, two hard-core bikers. Bikers that didn’t have a problem popping pills or smoking marijuana joints in front of me. In fact, when they deemed me old enough, they offered me my share. Who was I to object?
My brother, John, took an overdose and killed himself when he discovered the truth. He was only twenty-two.
I suppose I blame myself, but it was also John’s fault. He should never have read my diary.
Clay is my godfather. My father, Marcus, was the best man at Beth and Clay’s wedding. He’s always been straight with me. Told me how it was, whether I could take the truth or not.
One late afternoon, the three of us were sitting on their veranda chatting, when I dared to bring up the taboo subject of my parents first meeting.
What Beth and Clay revealed changed my whole outlook on life. It changed who I was.
***
“So, why have you never brought this up before?” Beth asked.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you about this many times; I’m guessing being stoned might have given me the courage.”
“You know you only had to ask,” she said.
“Yeah, I don’t have a problem discussing it,” Clay added. “Although I know that Jade and Marcus would rather forget it.”
Beth left her seat and entered the house. Clay passed me another beer.
A large, muscular man, with medium length, white, bushy beard, always wearing soiled jeans and an old tatty T-shirt. Clay’s appearance was one of a typical beer-drinking biker. But if you could see past his appearance, you’ll find one of the nicest blokes you could wish to meet.
I’d yet to see his temper, but I could imagine, if matched with someone his size, Clay would come out on top.
Beth returned, and handed me a large photo.
A group of sixteen bikers stood in front of a line of impressive motorbikes. Each biker wore jeans or leathers, and looked tough.
The women were sexy. Dressed in tight leather trousers and a sleeveless T-shirt, I recognized Beth straight away; dark curly hair, small frame and huge smile. Apart from some grey hairs and wrinkles around the eyes, both of them hadn’t changed much. Clay still had that knowing smile.
Clay pointed and named each of the bikers.
“Was this your gang?” I asked.
“No. It was your dad’s.”
I gagged and coughed out the smoke.
“That’s your dad,” Clay said, pointing to the biker standing in the middle of the group. His foot was resting on the front tyre of a bike. I guessed the red- head who was standing beside him was my mum.
“Jesus Christ!” I said, not believing what I was looking at.
The biker did look like a younger version of my father. Although his hollow cheeks had filled out, and I’d never seen him wearing anything other than shirts and trousers. My mother gave me the biggest shock. Wearing tight, black, leather trousers, and a white T-shirt cut at midriff, her hair was waist length and bright red. Very different from the short cut, brunette I was accustomed to. She still had the curves, but had filled out a little since the photo had been taken. Her face had changed the most. Gone were the twinkling eyes, rosy coloured skin, and contented smile.
So many times, I had caught her staring at my brother with a sorrowful expression and empty eyes, which were missing the twinkle evident in the picture.
I never understood until I saw that photo.
Clay allowed time for the revelation to sink in. Then passing me another joint, he told me all about the Tyrants.
“So, you were never a member of the Tyrants?” I asked Beth, once they finished their account.
“No. I still hung out with them, but Jade was the only female member. I think the guys preferred it that way. They treated her like a sister, you know, like one of the family.”
“Weren’t you jealous?” I asked.
“No. I wasn’t after attention. I had my man. There was no jealousy between your mum and me. We’ve always been good friends.”
“Did she always dress like this?” I asked, trying to picture the Jade I knew, dressing similar.
“That’s nothing. You wouldn’t believe half of the outfits she used to wear.” Beth laughed.
“So she was a biker’s tart?” I said, feeling disgrace.
“Jade had - has class. She used her looks and personality to draw men to her. But she wasn’t free property. She belonged to Marcus and everyone knew that. She was tough. You should have seen her fight. It was something to watch.
“A hell cat,” Clay added with a smirk.
“And did you love her?” I asked him.
“We all did. It was hard not to fall in love with her charm. As Beth said, she was like a sister to us.”
Clay then told me about my mother’s rape and how the Tyrants went after the Vipers, their sworn enemies.
My mind wouldn’t allow it to sink in. This wasn’t the Jade and Marcus I knew. There was no way these tough, violent gang members were my parents. I needed more answers.
“We were the number one gang in London,” Clay explained. “People feared us and we lived up to that reputation. Marcus was our fierce leader, Jade became his lady after fighting off the competition.”
“Tell me about it,” I urged.
“I can see this is going to be a long night,” Beth said, standing up. “I’d better call your father and let him know you’ve arrived safely.”
I allowed Beth and Clay to talk for hours about the Tyrants and the violent fights they had. It sounded exciting, but I still couldn’t visualize my parents in that situation.
They had hidden their past well. Almost believing their own hype.
I felt angry that they had kept this from me. Were they ashamed? Did they walk away from the gang because she was pregnant with me? How could they live a lie for so long? I felt guilty. Did they want to rip of their disguise and be who they really were? Were John and I stopping them living their life?
“Does John know any of this?” I asked.
“I doubt it,” Clay answered. “And I don’t want him finding out. He’s got enough distractions.” Referring to John’s ex girlfriend’s announcement that she was pregnant.
“Okay, I won’t say anything,” I shrugged.
Inhaling the smoke, I held it in and then let out a long breath. I was feeling pretty wasted and depressed.
“Now I know why mum’s not happy. They didn’t want us. We were a mistake,” I cried.
“You shut the hell up,” Clay barked. “I don’t want to hear you talking like that. They love you very much. You don’t know the whole story.”
“Then for Christ sake, tell me,” I yelled. “I’m eighteen now. I deserve to know the truth. If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out for myself.”
“It’s time she learnt the whole truth,” Beth said.
“You’re not going to like what you’re hear, Sofi,” Clay warned.
“I’m ready.”
Taking the discussion and drinks inside, we got comfortable in the living room, and then Beth went to the kitchen for munchies. Man was I hungry, and yet my stomach felt weird. I wasn’t sure if I could keep anything down. I think it was nerves. At last, I was going to learn what the big secret.
“Who’s this?” I asked, pointing to another biker standing next to my dad.
“That’s Dylan,” Beth said.
“Marcus older brother.”
“My uncle,” I whispered.” I could certainly see the family resemblance. But why had nobody mentioned him before?
The truth never occurred to me.
“He was killed in a knife fight.” Clay told me.
I looked up at him. Clay played out the fight again.
“So, he was defending the Tyrant’s name,” I asked, after Clay had finished. “He was standing up for my dad.”
Beth nodded. “He died in your mother’s arms. Marcus didn’t know anything about the fight, and he lost it when he saw Dylan’s body.”
“It hurt Jade the most,” Clay added. “You see, what Marcus didn’t know was that Dylan and Jade were a lot closer than he thought. Than any of us thought.
“They were sleeping together,” I said, surprised.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t as straight forward as it sounds,” Beth answered.
“Your mum wanted the status as the head of the Tyrant’s woman. Marcus wanted a beautiful woman, by his side, at his disposal. Both were looking for trophies and both found what they were looking for. I’m not sure when it first happened between your mum and Dylan, but it was obvious something was going on.”
“Didn’t my dad care? He must have known if the rest of you figured it out.”
Clay shook his head. “They never came out and announced that they were in love. Their relationship was kept secret. Dylan was too afraid of hurting his brother and Jade couldn’t face the truth.”
“She was too chicken shit,” I spat.
“Hey, she wasn’t the only one playing the field,” Beth injected.
“Yeah, your father was far from being a saint. His rendezvous with other women, made it easier for your mum and Dylan to continue their affair.”
“And they lived happily ever after,” I added sarcastically.
“Not at all. They were planning to leave the Tyrants. They were going to tell Marcus. They started to make plans and then Dylan was murdered.”
“That’s why your mum and dad left town,” Beth continued. “She testified that a member of the Wolves killed Dylan. No one snitches on another gang member, whether they wear different colours or not. It’s one of the rules.”
“Yeah, but the Wolves didn’t play by the rules did they.” Clay slammed his fist on the table.
“A death threat was given to your mum as she was leaving the courthouse. Marcus knew he had to get the three of them out of town. The Tyrants officially disbanded that night.”
It took a while before I realized what Clay had said. “She was pregnant with John.”
Clay nodded his head.
I didn’t want to ask, because I think I already knew the answer. Looking down at the photograph, the family resemblance was too uncanny.
“Dylan was John’s father, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. There is no doubt that he was,” Clay answered.
“And you knew, all this time? Why didn’t you tell me,” I yelled.
“When Jade told me she was pregnant, I figured out the rest. She made me promise not to say anything to Marcus. I gave my word.”
“How could he not know?” I stood up and paced the room. “Why haven’t they told me? Fuck! My life is one big lie. I didn’t know I had an uncle until tonight, now I find out he’s my brother’s father and he’s dead. This is turning out to be some fucking night.”
“I told you, you wouldn’t like what you’d hear,” Clay shrugged.
“Anything else you’d like to tell me? Anything you’ve left out. What about me. Is Marcus my father?”
Beth nodded. “Yes, and he’s still John’s dad. He’s the one that brought you both up.”
“He’s John’s uncle, not his fucking dad,” I screamed, flinging my arm across the mantle piece and knocking over their wedding photo.
“Give the woman something to calm her down,” Clay said.
Beth jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen, she came back and handed me a red pill. I didn’t question what it was. Taking a large gulp of beer, I swallowed the pill, and then slumped back down on the sofa.
I didn’t know at the time but I’d taken a barbiturate, a Red Devil.
It took ten minutes before the drug started to take effect. I felt relaxed and happy, my anxiety disappeared, and it didn’t occur to be I should be feeling miserable after what I’d just been told.
The drug kept me awake until the early hours of the morning. As the effects started to wear off, my thoughts returned and reality came crashing back.
My father was a property developer, he spent his time dressed in a shirt and tie and sat behind a desk. I never once saw him get his hands dirty. To think of him greased up, tinkering with a motorbike was absurd. Yet he used to be a bad-arse biker, and president of a violent gang. It was as though another world existed, aside from the one I lived in, and the more I turned the pages of the book, the more I wanted to experience this world.
And mum, the apron-wearing housewife, once a biker’s tart, caught in a love triangle. Tragedy strikes and the lover is killed. Jeez, if I didn’t know Clay better, I would have said he made the whole thing up. But proof was sitting on the table beside my makeshift bed, and the camera never lies. This wasn’t a one-shot-deal, a Halloween fancy dress photo. Their lifestyle, the closeness of the brotherhood was evident in the way they stood, dressed, and the expression in each of the bikers’ faces. They were proud of who they were, and happy to live the life they did. I tried to imagine what life as a member of the Tyrants was like. I wondered what had happened to the other members, whether that had tried to cling onto the image and lifestyle like Beth and Clay were doing, or did they turn into family men.
***
I’m a writer for a local newspaper. I find writing helps me understand the world, and myself better. I can get my thoughts written down on paper, while inside my head they’re messed up. When Clay and Beth told me the truth that night, I needed closure. I wrote everything I learned, down in my diary.
***
They never once verbally blamed me for John’s death. But dad felt guilty, knowing that he should have told him the truth. If he had, maybe things would have turned out better. Maybe John would still be alive.
He went berserk when he found out I was taking drugs. Nothing hard-core, just the odd pill and marijuana joints. I didn’t realize he was so against drug use. It wasn’t a subject that came up at the dinner table.
Mum was torn between wanting to shelter me from the lifestyle she had run away from, and blaming me for taking away John, the last link to Dylan.
After they found out who told me the truth about their past, they cut all ties with Beth and Clay. It didn’t matter how much I argued in their defence, as far as my parents were concerned, Beth and Clay were a bad influence on me. Jeez, I was smoking dope way before Clay offered me a joint.
Things were falling apart and I couldn’t bear to watch two people I loved tear one another apart, the grief and shame was too much for my mother and she had a nervous breakdown. Dad put pressure on me, and moaned about the way I dressed, my friends, and the music I played. I thought he was jealous. He saw a shadow of his former self, emerging from his daughter and I guess it brought back happy, as well as tragic memories. I knew how much he wanted to jump on a motorbike and take off into the sunset. Instead, he carried on his charade as a respected family man. Didn’t he realize the family he had was breaking apart? Didn’t he care?
I had enough. I packed my suitcase and moved down to London to live with Clay and Beth until I could sort something else out.
I was determined to learn all I could about the Wolves, about a biker’s lifestyle. Beth and Clay never clued into the motives behind my questioning. What better way to get all the dirt, than from two actual bikers. The Wolves had taken my uncle and my brother away from me. They fucked up my family. I wanted revenge.
Here starts my story of a frightening life in a world of bikers, sex and drugs.
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