AllFreeNovel
Share Us
After my divorce, I became single-minded. The only person I cared about was me and what I got. When my time with the military was up, I came home and took up my position in the club and never looked back. The club provided me with everything I needed. A brotherhood of men I trusted and a plethora of free cunts I could sink into anytime I wanted. I didn’t need a bitch on the back of my bike and I sure as hell didn’t want one telling me what to do.
Fuck that.
A knock at my door had me looking up as Scribe walked in. Taking a seat on the couch, I asked, “What do you want?”
“Got a preliminary report on Bailey. Wanna hear it now or later?”
“Now.”
“Bailey isn’t her first name. It’s her last. Her real name is Avonleigh Rose Bailey. Her mother died of a drug overdose when she was young. Raised by her maternal grandmother, Avonleigh never had a proper education to speak of. The last known record of her ever attending school was when she lived with a foster family for six months at age nine. After that, Child Protective Services returned her to her grandmother. The boy, Jamison Bailey, she mentioned is her twenty-seven-year-old cousin. Jamison is the son of a meth addict. Born with the cord wrapped around his neck several times, it denied Jamie oxygen for several minutes. He died twice before the doctors could stabilize him. Jamison has several mental deficits, like comprehension, reading and writing. Mentally, he is a thirteen-year-old boy in a man’s body. He is functioning but still requires services. His father is Raymond Bailey, Avonleigh’s uncle. The man is a registered sex-offender and has a record a mile long. Mainly drugs and possession. The young man, Jamison, was living in a state-run facility until last year, when Bailey petitioned the courts of West Virginia for sole custody of Jamison. She then moved him to one of the country’s best mental facilities in Arizona. The kid has been there ever since, getting the services he needs. She pays mint for that place, too.”
“Her mother. Who was she?”
“That’s where it gets interesting. Does the name Pearlissie May ring any bells?”
Scowling, I thought about the name for a second as a vague memory of a pretty woman with kind eyes popped into my head. “Think there was a cut slut named Pearl when Dad was around.”
“You would be correct. I had Enigma look through the club files and there was a young woman named Pearl Bailey, who was a club slut. Only she slept with one brother. Dog.”
“Fuck. If that’s the case, and with what Dog claimed in that letter, that means Bailey belongs to us.”
“Yeah Prez. She’s the daughter of a patched brother.”
“What else?”
“Well, just little things. Avonleigh is twenty-four, with no priors. She donates half her income to child development research. She’s a very private woman, King. No social media sites, not even Snapchat. From what I can gather, she has no friends besides Beth, and I think that’s even tenuous. She keeps a to-go-bag at the ready and two grand in cash in a safe deposit box. Her cell phone is a burner and easily disposed of if necessary. I found no pictures, no letters, nothing except for her love of fluffy pajamas. If you want my honest take. I think Avonleigh Rose Bailey is alone in the world. She never had any real upbringing. Raised around drugs her whole life, I’m surprised she turned out as adjusted as she is.”
“She’s got a mouth on her.”
“About that. I think it’s a safety mechanism for her. When someone gets too close, she uses snark to push them away. You said when you showed up at her place the other night, she cried. Yet, when you brought her here, she got lippy. I think for a brief moment, you saw the real Avonleigh Rose Bailey and the woman we’ve seen is her safety net. You want to know who she’s running from, then break down her walls and get to know the real woman behind the mask.”
Chapter Eight
King
I found her sitting at the bar, drinking a beer. She looked too damn young to be sitting there, let alone drinking. Scribe was right. The woman was hiding behind a well-cultivated exterior. The faster I removed it and got to the heart of the matter, the quicker I could wash my hands of her. I knew she was fucking trouble from the moment I first laid eyes on her. Trouble I didn’t want or need.
Taking the bull by the horns, I sat down next to her as Silver, the club’s bartender, handed me a beer.
“What do you want?” Bailey asked before tipping her beer and taking a long swallow.
“You need to tell me everything, Bailey.”
“I don’t need to do shit but die and pay taxes and technically, I don’t even have to do anything but die. So, fuck off.”
“Can you not be a bitch for five fucking minutes?”
“Sure,” she smiled before adding, “Want the chipper cheerleader or the shy librarian? I can be anything you want.”
“Jesus fuck,” I groaned.
“Sorry Prince. I don’t do chaste.”
“Can you be serious for one minute?”
“Fine.”
“Tell me about Jamison.”
