Seize Me Part 1

Seize Me.

Crystal Spears.

A Letter from the Author.

Dear Readers, You will have questions all throughout this novel; those questions will be answered as you continue to read Seize Me. I would also like to warn you that I did not hold back on any details with certain aspects of writing this novel and some areas might be difficult for you to read. I wanted to make my fict.i.tious world gritty, raw, and full of angst. Nothing is held back. So here is my warning before you enter the world of Breakneck'. If you can't stand reading about drugs, violence, s.e.x, murder, and vengeance, then this isn't a world for you. It also contains explicit language and some rape scenes. Although I thank you for purchasing my novel, I feel it is my duty to warn you ahead of time.

Sincerely, Crystal Spears.

People have cla.s.sified me as the beautiful untouchable daughter of a particularly evil man since the earliest time I can remember. I hated for people to call me beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, or any stereotypical name that means pretty. I didn't feel pretty, not by a long shot. I grew up in an ugly world, and I never understood how I was supposed to feel as if I deserved anything representing beauty. I met and fell in love with an employee' of my father's, and when he wouldn't condone our relationship and killed the man I loved right before my own eyes, I bolted. I waited and waited until I found my chance to escape. I took all my savings and never looked back. Just one more reason I didn't feel pretty.

If I were gorgeous, then why wouldn't I have a beautiful life to go with my beauty? I left a cold trail to make sure he could never find me, and I chose a career that would put him to shame if he were to catch up with me somehow. I used my expensive dance lessons for something entirely new. That was how I found my pretty. I felt raw, wanted, and it felt incredible, but that was nothing compared to what I felt when I met him. The man who seized me from the moment my eyes locked with his. A man that lived the same world I was hiding from. I had run straight from one h.e.l.l to another...and I didn't know if I would make it out of this one alive.

There are only our bodies humming together in a beautiful dance, our pole acting as our man, nothing but the feel of pretty paid at our own expense. Hazel and I smile at one another, leaning back into our double stargazer. Her foot hooks with mine as we use our strength to spin us around, ending our salute to the never-ending f.u.c.ktards that come here to jack off to something they can never have. This isn't your typical strip club. We are cla.s.sy, and if you're caught sleeping with cliental, you're gone. You want one of us then you give up the rights to be in here. The boss does not do old men; never has and never will, or so that's what Hazel tells me. I've been here for six months. Never seen any problems, so I'm just taking her word on it but then again, no one has caught my eye since losing Allen.

"They're back," Hazel whispers to me as we pick up our clothes and our tips.

I groan. Not this again. I've told them countless times no. I'm not doing it. They remind me of what I'm running from.

"Star, Hazel," Pyro greets with a s.e.xy nod.

"G.o.d... he's so hot," Hazel whispers.

I roll my eyes at Pyro and the few other club members staring at Hazel and me. We walk down off the stage and flop down in some chairs as one of the waitresses brings us our after dance drinks. Hazel is practically purring in my ear; she has this thing for Pyro, but he won't have at her for some reason. She's unbelievably beautiful in that exotic way. Hazel is tall and Hawaiian. I would consider Pyro gay, but he's the vice president of Breakneck or so his cut says, so I know he has about at least ten girls a week.

"C'mon Pyro, I ain't got all night," I say already exasperated.

Hazel throws a look at me. Great, she's going to lay into me hard when we get home. She hates when I run Pyro off before she has time to try to charm him. Normally I would laugh, but the girl found me and took me in, showed me the ropes and has been my best friend and sister ever since.

"Star, babe, give me a break will ya; it's for the Prez's birthday," Pyro drawls s.e.xily.

Pyro had been on this kick since he saw me dance three weeks ago. Other girls take private gigs, but I'm not one of them. Besides, I know they have their own little gaggle of wh.o.r.es they could get to do a few pole tricks.

I lean on the table with my elbows and look directly into his green eyes. "The answer is still no Pyro. I've never done a private gig before, and I don't wanna start either by getting some fat biker president's d.i.c.k hard."

All four of them start laughing. I don't see what's funny about this. I just dissed their leader, and they're laughing. Apparently, the jokes lost on me.

"He ain't old, and he ain't fat sugar," Pyro chuckles.

What do they mean he ain't old? He's the president. He ain't young, I can tell you that much. I feel Hazel kick my leg with her d.a.m.n stiletto, and I grunt. She wants me to take this gig only if they allow her to do it too. Anything so she can get more of Pyro. I owe her so much that if she weren't here beside me right now, I would decline again, but disappointing her is not something I wanna do.

Sighing, I give in. "I'll dance for your fat guy if Hazel can dance with me too."

I get a few happy grunts, an extremely s.e.xy smirk from Pyro and a squeal from Hazel. Yeah, glad I could make everyone happy. What the h.e.l.l about me?

"Babe, you just rocked my world." Pyro smiles as he gets up from the table. "Tomorrow, ten pm at this address." He hands me a card. "I'll take care of your shifts here. Your boss owes me some favors."

And just like that, they're gone, and I'm left with my giddy best friend and a business card for their club. It's an hour drive. They had better pay us well.

"Winter," Lana hollers for me. I love how easy it is for us to fall into our real names when we're away from the club.

"Yeah," I say, flipping on our kitchen light.

"Can you believe this s.h.i.t? We're gonna be dancing at Breakneck tomorrow night. But I feel as your best friend, it's my duty to inform you that he's not old, and he's not fat."

I grab two beers and make my way to our living room, handing her one. She has my full on attention now. She's been holding out, and I don't like that.

"He's turning thirty, and word has it...he's far from being smacked by an ugly stick."

How in the h.e.l.l can a biker president be only turning thirty? I don't know much about that world, but my father had dealings with numerous clubs back home and never once did I meet a young president.

"Well, then I guess it'll be bearable."

"I love you; you know that," she says sipping her beer.

"Yeah, I love you back. So since we gotta drive an hour across the desert for this gig tomorrow, you wanna go to the casinos this weekend while we're out there?"

Lana and I usually work the weekends but somehow Pyro got us outta the club three nights paid. Even if we weren't paid, it wouldn't matter. I have plenty of savings left, and Lana isn't sitting on a small cushion either. We both work hard and deserve every penny we have so that we rarely have to touch our savings.

"You don't have to ask me twice. I have no idea what to wear tomorrow, do you?"

I'm with her on that. What do you wear to a motorcycle clubs president's birthday? I mean, it's like walking back into the h.e.l.l I came from, so maybe, just maybe...

"Angels," I whisper.

"What?" Hazel sputters.

"We're going as s.e.xy angels."

"Well d.a.m.n, that means I gotta get our wings outta the closet, and last time I wore them, I needed to sew a few more feathers on because you nicked it with your heels. Get your b.u.t.t up; you're helping me."

We spend the next few hours into the morning fixing our wings and gathering things we need. We pack our bags so we can sleep in before our drive. I'm beyond exhausted and I can tell she is also, so sleeping in is just what we need.

We're laughing and driving down the long road the GPS told us to take when our car stalls. I pull over to the side confused because it's not old. Lana had gotten it only a few months before I came along.

"What the h.e.l.l," she mutters, climbing out before I can get the car in park.

I pop the hood and jump out. I admit we are only familiar with the basics like engine fluids, so when the hood rises, and heat rushes our bodies, I know something terrible is wrong. We're stuck in the d.a.m.n desert fifteen minutes away from where we need to be. This situation screams horror flick, and I can tell Hazel is thinking the same thing as she chomps down on her bottom lip.

"There is only one thing we can do," I say, walking back to the driver side door.

I pull out the card, grab my phone, and dial as I sigh. This is just unbelievable. Yeah, we're quite respectable hires, stranded in the middle of nowhere as the sun starts setting.

"Breakneck." A snarky female answers the other line.

"Yeah, hi; can I speak with Pyro please?"

She has the audacity to huff in the phone. Did I say something wrong? I was pleasant enough. I'm losing my patience, because after this sun sets it's gonna go from sweltering to freezing, and I don't wanna be out here stranded when it does.

"Hunny he gets a million calls a day. I'll take a message." Her loud yawn comes over the phone.

That's it. I lost the polite girl in me after my father point-blank shot the man I love. After seeing your reason for being have his brain splattered across your dress, you kind of lose your s.h.i.t.

"b.i.t.c.h, I'm hired entertainment for your president's birthday. I can guarantee you that if you don't get Pyro, he's gonna be p.i.s.sed."

"f.u.c.k," she hisses. No doubt because I just found her weakness. It's silent for what feels like a lifetime, and I look over at Lana who is just smiling, proud of me.

"Pyro," he grunts. Okay, so she probably didn't tell him it was me calling, and I just took him away from the party.

"Hey Pyro, it's Winter, s.h.i.t, I mean it's Star. You didn't hear that first part. Hazel and I are stranded fifteen minutes away."

"s.h.i.t, where at babe?"

I look down at the map and give him our location. He goes silent before cursing up a storm. I hold out the phone, and her eyes widen as Hazel hears Pyro barking orders.

"Get in the car and lock the doors till you see our tow truck and me on my bike," he growls.

I don't understand, so I just nod, stunned and confused.

"Baby you're probably nodding into the phone, right? But here's the thing sweetness; since I can't see you, let me hear the words."

No wonder Hazel swoons over him. He has this thing about him. It's s.e.xy as h.e.l.l, and yet irritating at the same time.

"Winter," he snaps.

s.h.i.t, he used my real name.

"Dammit, I told you to forget that name," I hiss.

"f.u.c.kin' answer me then."

"I hear ya loud and clear," I say as I hang up on him. No doubt, I'll get an arrogant look for that. You can tell by looking at Pyro that he ain't one of those men that will take s.h.i.t off anybody.

"Well, they're on the way, and we have to stay in the car. We're gonna have to crack the windows though and lock the doors."

"What? Why?" She hurries back into the car.

I climb in as I shrug a dunno. It feels like more than fifteen minutes pa.s.s by, and Hazel and I are sweating so badly that we have stripped to our bras and sweat shorts. We are obviously going to need some place to prep for our gig before we do it. I tap angrily on the dash. It's way too hot in this d.a.m.n car, and as I climb out, I see a tow truck in the distance.

"Finally." Hazel and I breathe out at the same time.

Pyro looks hot riding up on his bright blue bike with his shades pulled down over his face. The look he's giving us is anything but subtle.

"I thought I told ya to wait in the f.u.c.king car," he growls as he kicks at his kickstand.

"Look Pyro, you were riding up. It's hot as h.e.l.l, and Hazel and I are sweating our a.s.ses off. Can you just have them tow the car so we can leave?"

Pyro looks me up and down before moving his gaze over to Hazel, doing the same to her. It isn't lost on me how he lingers on her longer than me, and I smile at Hazel. Score one babe. Pyro's face softens just a tad, but not much.

"Fine but when I tell you two to f.u.c.king do something, do it next time."

This prospect dude is looking at Hazel and me as we ride in the tow truck behind Pyro, so when we finally stop, and I take in our surroundings, I'm more than happy to climb out and get as far away from pervert as I can.

Pyro is standing at our car hitched to the tow truck.

"Prospect, grab their bags." He leans in to peer into our window. "And their wings." He chuckles. "I knew you girls would make me proud."

This compound is like the ones you see on freaking television. A ma.s.sive garage is behind us, an office to the front of us and a clubhouse to the side. A fortress-type fence surrounds the whole place, and I admit I gulp. I ran from this kind of s.h.i.t. The kind of s.h.i.t that took my man away from me. I've grieved my loss, but it still hurts.

I catch the creepy prospect checking us out again, and I hiss over at Pyro.

"Keep pervy prospect away from us."

Pyro looks over at the prospect and throws his head back in laughter. I don't find it funny; we get stared at enough in a creepy manner.

"Yo, pervy prospect, stop staring at the girls; you're creepin' them the f.u.c.k out. PP, it's f.u.c.king brilliant. Winter, you are f.u.c.king remarkable."

"Name Pyro," I scold.

"s.h.i.t, sorry Star."

Well at least this biker has some manners. I smile at him as Hazel quietly swoons. I wish she would make a move already and finish it.

"C'mon beautiful girls, let's get you showered and ready."

Pyro leads us to the clubhouse. I know it's the clubhouse because each building has a specific purpose, and this is the biggest one on the property. He cracks the door. "Where's Braxxon?" Pyro shouts.

The music is pumping so loud that I don't know how this person hears him, but he does because he shouts back.

"The Prez is in the Chapel."

"Keep him there."

After he's sure the coast is clear, he leads us into the building, and I don't know if it's my nerves, but this hallway is long and daunting. Whistles are loud as we walk behind Pyro and my cheeks heat. I hate this kind of attention, but since I love my job, I deal with it. I make no eye contact with anyone as we pa.s.s. My eye catches tons and tons of s.k.a.n.ks drinking and snorting it up, getting their a.s.ses slapped and so forth.

We pa.s.s a lot of doors before Pyro stops to unlock one.

"This is my apartment; I had one of the prospects bleach it down." He laughs, gesturing us to follow him. "Rich said that you ladies aren't powder noses, but if it's busy, you do a line or two for nerves. There's a line or two on my dresser." He winks as he shuts the door on his way out.

We look around the box of a room and sure enough, it's like a mini apartment. Two doors are open, one to a closet, and one to a bathroom. A small kitchen is set to the side.