Always (Wesson Rebel M.C. Series)

Wesson Rebel M.C. Series

Book One

Always

Shyla
Colt

This Book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

©Text Copyright 2014 Shyla Colt

Cover By
Rue Volley

Edited By
Elizabeth A. Lance

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious and are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, or locales or persons, living or dead are entirely coincidental.

I want to dedicate this to all my amazing Colts out there, and new readers taking a chance on an author they haven’t met yet. It’s your support that makes it possible for me to keep going. To my amazing editors, Leanore, and Elizabeth, I can’t thank you enough for all your guidance and hard work.  For my  book pusher, Sav, thank you for the friendship, and  the honesty. Thank you to my family and friends who share me with the characters who live inside my head, and to the man upstairs who’s blessed me with the desire to write.

Play list:

Snow Patrol: The lighting Strike

Florence + The Machine
: Breathe of Life

The Kills: 
U R a Fever

Modest Mouse : Float on

David Bowie : Changes

Coldplay: The Scientist

Lana Del Rey : Flipside

Andrew Bell : IN my Veins

Stateless: BloodStream

Florence+ The Machine : Never Let me Go

Florence + The Machine : Breathe of Life

Neil Young: Old Man

Lykke Li Kleerup :  Until We Bleed

Led
Zepplin : Ramble On

Back to the Start

Cora 

I
’ve loved Dallas Wesson my entire life in some form. My earliest memories are of me, toddling around after him at family picnics and the old ladies homes. They were our surrogate mothers and babysitters when our fathers left for those long rides. I think I cried when he started school and left me behind. So I suppose, it was no surprise when that love took on a mature tone. I never saw anyone else. What chance did a high school boy have when I grew up with a green-eyed Greek god who protected me from everything? None.

W
hen I hit womanhood at thirteen and the estrogen began to flow liked popped champagne, I began to see him in a whole new light. Watching the endless parade of women, he ran through like pairs of socks…hurt. Each perfectly shaped bombshell he flaunted, cut like a tiny slice to my heart accompanied by a knock to my self-esteem. It’s fucked up what your mind can do when you’re a pre-teen with a case of unrequited love. I felt desperate to grow up too fast. If I’d fully understood the things being Dallas’ woman entailed, I might’ve pumped the brakes. Not that it would’ve mattered in the end. Fate has a way of bringing us together no matter what bullshit life tossed our way. Each crisis averted and overcame bound us tighter, until eventually, I understood for me the answer would be Dallas Wesson—always.

Love is a funny thing. It doesn’t guarantee
a happily-ever-after, or an easy way to go. Soul mate means even when you should hate someone, you can’t give up on them. It makes you stupid and more giving than you could ever imagine feeling. It’s the spell that falls over you and makes you do things you swore you were above. I never understood the phrase there's a thin line between love and hate, until Dallas Wesson and I became
us
.

Past

I glance up from the books scattered across the table in the living room and smile wistfully. Danny, Dallas’ brother has his arms around Rowan’s waist. Her flaming red hair blends with his dark brown as he whispers in her ear. I force my eyes back down to my work and stifle the jealousy that threatens to eat me from the inside out. Danny and Rowan have an amazing relationship. They were always close, but when they hit fifteen things shifted. I’m happy for them. They’re two of my closest, okay…two of my
only
friends.

Growing up in Wesson MC
your social circle is miniscule. We don’t take kindly to outsiders for good reason. We live by a different code. Normal people can’t understand the things we do, or the logic we apply to our colorful situations. Not to mention, you can’t protect someone not in the life from a blowback when shit goes down. Rivals don’t care who people are, only that you care about them.

We’re in my house today.
With just me and my dad, Reaper. In this three-bedroom two-bath house, there’s a lot more room than the others have in smaller dwellings. Plus, as club president, Danny and Dallas’ dad has women in and out all the time.

The front door opens. Dad i
s home early. A wide grin spreads across my lips and I know I must look like an imbecile. I peer across the open layout. The broad-shouldered Adonis with a strong jaw and beautiful masculine features in the doorway is not who I expected. My happiness deflates. Dallas’ presence twists my guts up into a tangled mess. I stare at the calculus in front of me, wishing I could be invisible. This is why I wanted to go away to college in the first place.

“There she is,” Dallas rumbles. L
ike the bike he rides, his snarly seductive tone can’t be mistaken for anyone else’s.

Chill bumps breakout over my back. My breasts grow heavy. Heat spreads across my cheeks and travels down my neck. Once more, I thank God for my mocha-colored skin. I managed to give him a weak smile. Our relationship has been strained badly for the past six months.

Confusion muddies his vibrant green eyes… Guilt eats at my stomach like a hungry T-Rex.

His off and on again, whatever she is
, gets the picture. The strawberry blonde haired bitch, never fails to rub their relationship, or my presumed lack of experience in my face.

“Ye
p, here I am, buried in math.” The equations on the paper might as well be scrambled, because I do not understand a damn thing just now.

“It’s your fault for being so fucking smart,” Dallas says, grinning as he walks
over and tugs at my ponytail.

The brotherly gesture sends my heart into my stomach, like an elevator on its way to the bottom floor. I’ll never be more than his pseudo little sister. All I w
ant to do is retreat to my room and lick my wounds. Unfortunately, it would be too obvious. “That’s right, I forgot you like them dumb,” I say, delivering a tiny barb to assuage my own pain.

Dallas narrows his eyes.
“Who the fuck told you that?”

“No one had to. She has eyes, same as the rest of us
,” Rowan says.

I mentally thank her for jumping in and saving me from
making a total ass of myself.

“Don’t start with the busting my balls. I came over to talk to the birthday girl about what she wants. Don’t be crabby, Co.” H
e pulls out the chair beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his body.

I bite my lip to keep my purr of contentm
ent inside, then my body relaxes.

H
e places a sweet kiss on my cheek. “There’s my Baby Girl.” He leans back and pins me with his sparkling green eyes.

I’m ensnared against my will, unable to do anything more but hold the intense gaze.
Our connection hums to life.

“What do you want to do for y
our twenty-first, sweetheart?”

You.
I will him to understand with my eyes. “I don’t know,” I whisper, feeling nervous now that he’s focused on me.

“You
always know what you want, Coey. It’s in your blood.”

The nickname melts me from the inside out like
a chocolate lava cake. “I don’t want anyone to make a big deal over it.”

“What?” Rowan asks.

“Come on, you know she doesn’t like being in the spotlight, Irish,” Dallas sneers.
“Are you telling me you know my best friend better than me?” Rowan places her hands on her hips. Her lips form a straight line.

With the look Rowan is wearing,
I start imagining the walls being painted red.

“What? You think you’re the only one who cares about
Baby Girl or knows her inside and out?” Dallas’ voice drops an octave. His jaw twitches and his body tenses. “You’d be wrong.”

“I want to go to the boardwalk,” I blurt the words out, capturing his attention. “Like we used to, just you and me.” My heart bounces of my ribs so hard
, I swear one is going to break.
What the hell am I thinking?

His eyes soften. He tucks a few strands of hair behind my ear. “You s
ure that’s what you want?”

“Ye
p, if we disappear early in the morning no one will be able to find me and embarrass me half to death.” The excuse sounds lame, even to my own ears, but it’s the best I have. So, I’m sticking to it. “Spread the word. I want a small gathering at the club Friday, members of this chapter only. That’s it. I don’t want this to turn into a gigantic clusterfuck.”

Dallas chuckles. “Whatever you want you get.”

Yeah, if only that were the truth.

He leans in and caresses my cheek with his knuckles. “It’s hard to be
lieve you’re turning twenty-one tomorrow, Baby Girl. It seems like just yesterday you were rocking pigtails.”

The words a
re a slap my face. Why does he keep bringing up the past? The three years between us isn’t that vast of a difference. “We all grow up sometime, Dall.”

“Yeah, we do.” His eyes hold a strange expression I can’t quite place. It disappears, replaced by his trademark shit eating grin.

When have I ever been able to resist this man?
Never.
This is why the next day, I find myself skipping class and climbing onto the back of his bike a little after nine in the morning.

“Been a long time since I had a woman on the back of my
back,” he says.

“What about, Anna?” I asked
, unable to keep the snark from my voice.

He snickers. “That’s trim
, baby, not dating material.”

My jaw drops.
Well, she sure as hell doesn’t know that.

“Trust me sweetheart, she knows.”

Fuck, I said that out loud?

“Wishful thinking makes her say shit she s
houldn’t.” He reeves his engine and I wrap my arms around his waist to hold tight. Resting my face up against the worn leather of his cut, I inhale the scent and allow myself to pretend this is my rightful position. The wind blows the ends of my hair back, and I promise myself I’ll savor this before I finally move on. This is the last year I’ll spend waiting on my pipe dream of love with Dallas Wesson.

The pier looks the same as it always does
, miles of sandy white dunes, blue water and carnival-like games and food booths. I adored the throw back to the fifties and sixties. Some of my best memories of my dad came from this place. Classic rock and oldies played over the speakers, adding to the atmosphere.

“Why do you love this place so much, Co?” Dallas asked as we strolled ove
r the slightly worn wood toward the end of the pier.

“Nostalgia maybe? It remi
nds me of when we were kids, when everyone would ride up here for the day and forget about all the drama.

“Yeah, those
were the days.” Dallas sighs.

“You doing okay?” I study his face. The years have been kind to his face and body, but his eyes are that of
a man far older. It’s no secret P is grooming him for the President patch.

“Yeah, sometimes I miss those days when the biggest concern was keeping track of you three and what kind of sweets we were
going to gorge ourselves on.”

I laughed. “God, you got so sick of
f fried food.”

“Ugh.” He pats his
slim belly. “Don’t remind me. I’ll never look at funnel cake the same way again.”

“I told you no
t to have that third one,” I remind him.

“Yes you did,
Baby Girl. You’re always looking out for me, aren’t you?”

“
Duh
, that’s what friends do.”

“Yes, but it’s always been different, between us, hasn’t it?” He tilts
his head to the side, staring.

I feel exposed for the fraud I am. “What?” I ask, shifting my wei
ght from one leg to the other.

“Just taking in the woman you’ve
become.”

“Seriously?” I snicker. “You’ve bee
n here every step of the way.”

“Yeah, I have, that’s the problem.” He shakes h
is head.

My mouth goes dry. “W—
what do you mean?”

“Nothing, come on, let’s go enjoy your day. I’m buying you your first legal drink. No one’s goin
g to take that right from me.”

“Not with that mean mug you’re sporting,” I say totally lost. He’s ac
ting out of character right now and I’m not sure what to make of it. I wish Rowan were here. She’s a pro at reading people.

“What do you want to do first?”
he asks. “It’s your day after all.”

“Games.” Excitement rises in my chest as I per
use the selection of classics.

“You’re the only woman who’d get away wit
h saying that in front of me.”

“What?”

“That you want to play games with me.”

I shake my head. “You’re too serious
, Dall, lighten up and have fun with me.” I widen my eyes and make my lower lip quiver. “Please.”

H
e sighs. “You asked for this.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Being
a little dramatic aren’t we?”

“No, but I’m done fighting.”

“Fighting? I don’t understand.”

“I know. I just hope when it’s all said and done you won’t hate me for it.” He grabs my hand and leads me to the milk jugs before I can question him.

Fine, be mysterious and aloof.

“Ready
for me to win you something?”

“How about I win you something instead?” I a
sk, sassing him because I can.

He chuckles. “This ain’t the rifle range hot shot. Your
arm is as limp as spaghetti.”

I pout. “You know ho
w to charm a girl, don’t you?”

“I don’t need to charm you, Cora. That’s the best part.” He winks and some of the wind leaves my sa
il.

I’m not even on his level.
“I challenge you anyways.”

“At my own expense?” he asks.