Read MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel) Online
Authors: Bink Cummings
MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel)
The
Diary of Bink Cummings
Volume
2
MC Chronicles
Bink Cummings
~~~
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2015 by Bink Cummings
All rights reserved. No part of this
book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic
or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for
the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Proofreader/Editor- Ashley Hampton
Beta/Proofreader- Jay Samia
Proofreader- Amy Koch-Bucy
Cover Artist- Bink Cummings
Ebook Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other
people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please
purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and
did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please
return to the Author and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the
hard work of this author.
(Note: This
book/series is a work of fiction with aspects based in truth.)
Contact the Author: Email:
[email protected]
Let’s just say I wouldn’t be sane right now if it
wasn’t for many people in my life. I wanna shout a huge thank you to……
Jezebel, thank you for spending countless hours
talking with me about life, books, family stresses, and being the sister I
never thought I’d have. You’re proof that loyalty is thicker than blood.
Pixie, thank you for being my backup. Even if you
think you’re the forgotten stepchild sometimes, you’re not, I promise. You’re
my sister till the end and I wouldn’t be where I am today, without your
encouragement and hours of drinking together, relieving stress.
Deb, thank you for being a mom to me, and having my
back through thick and thin. Even the times when the family becomes too much,
you lighten the load—for that I am forever grateful.
Amy, thank you for your support and kicks in the ass
when I question myself. You’re friendship means a helluva lot to me, and I’m
proud to call you sister.
Ashley, thank you for your amazing dedication to editing,
and being a constant shoulder to lean on.
Ena: From Enticing Journey Book Promotions; thank you
for your professionalism, help, and the wonderful work you do with your
promotional company. You’re a great woman who willing lends a hand, shoulder,
or ear, whenever I’m in need, and that means the world to me.
I wanna give a special shout out to Jay, who messaged
me shortly after Vol 1 had published. She has went above and beyond to help me—
from the group, to beta reading and proofreading, to emails, teasers and more…
She’s been a real fucking blessing in my life. Thank you so much Jay for your
support, invaluable dedication, and for being a new sister in my life.
To all the bitches at the Bink Cummings Clubhouse, you
have become a second family to me. Thank you for welcoming me into your lives,
I love all you chicks!
Finally- I couldn’t forget to send a big can of sloppy
smooches to all the bloggers who participated in my tours and reviewed my
books. I can’t thank ya’ll enough for taking a chance on me. Ya’ll are fucking
amazing! And there is no way I could have done any of this without each and
every one of you!
Much Love — Peace:
Bink
Are you ready for the ride? Do you think you can
handle it? Now let me tell ya, this story isn’t what you think. Life is not a
fairy tale, and if you think it is, you better stop reading now. As you have
gathered in volume 1, my life is a sick and twisted mess that has never been
what people could call normal. This volume is no different.
You might be a new reader, or maybe you’ve been
patiently waiting for this, my story, in volume 2. Either way, I thank you for
following along in this journey.
Now, keep in mind, some of you may hate it or me by
the time you’re done. Others may understand the drastic and somewhat selfish
choices I took. This is just another bumpy road in this thing we call life. No
matter how fucked up it may get or how much it makes us bleed, life is just….
life. And love, well, it’s just love. Even the kind that can’t seem to let go,
even though you’ve tried.
This is why I’ve spared you the details of my life
until another turning point took place. It’s not September anymore. It’s
February. Welcome to the next chapter in my ever-changing life. Bear with me,
things are about to get complicated.
of Contents
One
Monday: February 17, 2014
“Eva, darling, could you please be sure to pick up
both of our vitamins from the store, on your way home from work today? And
please talk to the doorman on your way out. That package from my mother is
supposed to be delivered today, and I don’t want it sitting downstairs. Just
tell Raoul to use his key and drop it inside the door. I’ll deal with it when I
get home, which won’t be until late. I’ve got that business meeting over drinks
with a client at seven. I promise to be home as soon as I can,” Marshall relays,
yelling from the shower.
This is sort of our morning routine
these days…busy, busy, busy…such is life. I’ve just finished with my morning
shower, fixed my hair, and makeup. Now I’m sitting on our king sized memory
foam vibrating mattress that I hate, mind you. And I’m sliding on my bright
white kitten heels, that match my flouncy blouse and black knit pants, which I
am wearing to work today. It’s all been tied together with my black pearl
necklace from Marshall, and diamond stud earrings, also a gift from Marshall.
Those I received at our Valentine’s Day dinner over the weekend. He took me to
Tashaki, an upscale, high dollar Asian restaurant, with some of the most
delicious cuisine in town. According to the critics, that is—not me. I’m not a
pretentious foody.
It was a lovely night out, as all of
our nights are. The entire day consisted of pampering at its finest - a spa day
with a pedicure, manicure, an hour-long Swedish massage, followed by my hair
styled, and makeup applied to perfection. Waiting for me in the dressing room
to slip on was a beautiful peach chiffon gown and matching shoes for the
evening. Marshall had rented a vintage Caddy for us to ride in style to the
restaurant, where we spent hours conversing about
his
work and places
he
is dying to show me. Most of them involve us having to travel to Western
Europe. It all sounds like a wild fantasy to me. One that a girl like me will
never truly experience….a fairy tale, if you will.
Being raised like I was then to be
doted upon, spoiled, and treated like a classy lady, often times makes it
difficult to understand how this all came to fruition in my new life.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know you’re
probably sitting here, reading all this sweet, hoity-toity shit and going.
What the fuck, Bink? You left your home, and now
you’ve shacked up with some dude named Marshall?
I did, and I have,
is the simplest answer. Although, I’m rather certain that isn’t quite what you
are seeking, so bear with me as I spell it out for you.
I moved to Chicago twenty-three weeks ago, which was way
back in September. I had barely any money, no job, no apartment—nothing. The
first few days dragged on like a dark cloud looming over my head. I worried a
lot, and I cried even more. I missed my friends, and most of all I missed Gunz
and Big. After I had stayed cooped up in my shitty hotel room in the city for
two whole days wallowing in my new life, I sucked it up, and picked up a phone
to call Debbie and Gunz. And of course, like I had predicted, all hell had
broken loose since my departure in the middle of the night. Big was a mess, and
the clubhouse was in constant tension. To put it simply, their life was in
shambles, and mine wasn’t much better.
Gunz called me every single day for the first few weeks,
begging me to come home. I refused. What can I say? I’m stubborn like that….
and he was respectful enough of my independence that he never told Big exactly
where I was. I worried if he had, I would have been dragged home kicking and
screaming. I wasn’t. Gunz kept his word, and after a very long detailed talk
about my feelings, on the matter of the club and becoming Big’s old lady
without choice, he understood and left it at that—cut and dry.
Big, after the dust had sorta settled, blew up my phone a
hundred times a day. Good thing for free long distance or my bill would have
been out of this fuckin’ world from all the calls coming and going. Anyhow… I
naturally didn’t want to speak to Big, and I didn’t. I allowed Gunz to play
middleman, by delivering important information, like me being safe and that I
wasn’t coming back. Big’s manic phone calls fell on deaf ears as I would always
pick up the receiver to hear him yelling at me. Before I would start to cry, I
would hang up, never to utter a single syllable. It was easier that way for me,
and I would like to think for him too. Even though he never said so, I knew it
was the best for everyone. Whether he believed it or not at the time, I hope he
does now.
And yes I know Big probably could have traced my number and
stormed to Chicago to claim me. That’s what I would have done if I were Big. However,
Gunz handled that too in some sort of way. I didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell.
Conversations about Big and our relationship, or lack thereof, are forbidden,
and it didn’t take Gunz long to realize I wasn’t going to listen to a lick of
‘Prez’ talk. I couldn’t, it hurt too much.
My daddy and brothers made it home safely from their run,
the lockdown was lifted, and life turned back to some semblance of Sacred
Sinners normal. My brothers didn’t argue when I said I wasn’t returning, and my
daddy, for whatever reason, seemed pleased with my choice to leave. If I had to
guess, his feelings had a lot to do with my mother’s pleasure in me being away
from the club.
That
, right
there, nearly had me turning right around on my independent voyage and going
straight home, to give her the big F.U. Like I said, I nearly did.
Eventually, things calmed, and people began to accept my
decision. All the while, I was seeking employment and scouting out a cheap apartment.
Gunz, in the first week, had mailed me money and my purse, so I was comfortable
for a short while, as I tried to keep my head above water. Starting out in a
new place and new town, I’d never visited before was overwhelming, to say the
very least.
Less than three
weeks in my new city, I took refuge in a shared apartment situation with a
privileged college girl named Brittany. The rent was ridiculously inexpensive,
and the apartment itself was furnished, large, and in a nicer part of the city.
Brittany had no financial crisis that provoked her into seeking a roommate. I
think she was just lonely and wanted some girl bonding time. She isn’t one of
those girly, prissy bitch types that typically come from families of wealth.
No, she’s a bit of a cutesy book nerd, majoring in economics, wearing leggings
everywhere she goes, and has a cat named Einstein. You catch my drift.
I found her ad on
Craigslist, and it being in Chicago and such a great deal, applications poured
in by the hundreds, if not thousands. I honestly didn’t think I’d get the room
until I came for my interview, and there sat a handsome mid-forties man next to
his daughter, interviewing each applicant on a first come, first serve basis.
It was apparent within three minutes into the interview that
I had nailed down the apartment. Somewhere between my ‘I’d moved to a new city
to outrun family obligation’, and ‘I’m homeless, living in a shitty hotel’,
Brittany’s father had asked me out for coffee, which I politely declined. I had
no intentions of running out of one man’s arms into another’s, so with poise,
wearing tan Dockers and dress shirt, her father humbly accepted my refusal for
a date. Much to my surprise, I still managed to secure the apartment.
Now, you’re
thinking, great Bink, you got this awesome place to live with this young girl,
and you’ve set yourself up in the city. So how does this man who’s talking to
you from his shower come into this story? Well…I’ll tell you.