The Thunder Wolves MC - Stone (Book #7)

*** Hey everyone, before we get into this next installment of The Thunder Wolves MC, if you haven't read the others, I recommend you do. Starting with The Thunder Wolves MC - Jaylee. If you are unsure what order the books go in, feel free to let me know. If you have read all the others, welcome to the next book. This one will be a bit different from the others, so I hope you all enjoy it as much as you have the rest.**** Candy At the age of eighteen, I found myself wanting out of my parent’s house so badly that I made a deal with the local motorcycle club that most people look down on. I was pretty, and I knew it. I was young. Taking a position with the local motorcycle club was my out. I was given a place to stay outside my parent’s house. I was given benefits that included medical. Sure, I had to share the space with the other girls and still had rules I had to follow. But I wasn’t living with my parents. I had money in my pocket to spend on whatever I wanted and not have to worry about bills. The club took care of everything, including a phone. The only thing I had to give them in return was me. I was responsible for taking care of the guys. I wasn’t the only one there, so I had help. But I found it easy to give in. I found all the guys attractive in one way or the other. It didn’t matter if they were younger members or older members. They all came with their own experience, and none of them were shy about letting me know if I was doing something wrong. It didn’t take long, and I was a pro at pleasing the guys. After only a couple of months, I became a club favorite, even among those visiting members. I know the position technically made me a w***e, but I was young and didn’t care. I was making damn good money for only a few hours of work a day. I also found I enjoyed the attention the guys all gave me. And when I needed to go somewhere, it was never hard to find one of the guys to give me a ride. Especially when my parents insisted on me coming home for visits every now and then since I wouldn’t tell them where I was living, they couldn't simply show up at my home for a visit. It was something neither of them liked, especially since I refused to tell them what I was doing with the club. They figured out I was doing something with the club when I would be brought over to the house by one of the guys on a motorcycle and then picked back up by them when I was ready to leave. My father hated that none of the guys ever stayed long enough for him to meet them. They would pull up, help me off the back of their bike, then leave. When I was ready to go, I would text whichever member, and they would drive over. I would make sure I was outside before they got there. Climbing on their bike quickly before they pulled away from the curb. If my father were fast enough by chance, he would greet them, and they would be nice, indulging him but never full-on speaking to him. It drove my father crazy, and he hated that I was involved with them. My brother even tried convincing me to leave them. They were no good for me. But I didn’t listen. I wouldn’t hear of it. I was having fun. As a club girl, I was responsible for keeping track of myself. I had to ensure that I took birth control and was to make sure that I attempted to ensure all the guys use condoms. The best I could do was make sure I had condoms on hand and readily available for them to use. That didn’t mean all of them did. In fact, most of them didn’t. I was on birth control, and they knew I was clean. I was only with other members, and everyone was tested on a regular basis. For me, I was tested every three months when I went in for my depo shot. And I know only using my birth control didn’t guarantee I wouldn’t become pregnant. But as I said, I was young and was having fun. So when only after six months of being with the club and I received a positive pregnancy test, you can only imagine my fear. I had only just turned nineteen a few days before finding out. And worst of all, I had no clue who the father was. I had been with a new club member every night. Some of which wasn’t even a member of the local club, but members from other chapters. Being a club girl, I had one of three options. One, I could choose to abort the child. Two, I could choose to keep it and hope the father was willing to accept responsibilities and help us. Or three, I could choose to keep this to myself and leave the club. Option one, I ruled out quickly. After the initial shock of being pregnant went away, I couldn’t find myself able to kill my own child. In the end, I tried for option two and spoke to the chapter's president, letting him know what happened. This led to having to try and remember every member I had been within the time frame in which I had gotten pregnant. And then reaching out to them. The only problem with that was I didn’t remember every member's name. The solution to this was the president taking me with him to a charity event the original chapter was hosting. He said every member in the state would be there, and if I happened to recognize any of the members, I was to let him know, and he would help me figure it out. This worked, and I had recognized the last remaining club members. The only problem was the one, which had actually been the sweetest of all of the guys, had an old lady. As I stood next to Dagger, the precedent of the chapter to which I belonged to, I listened as the two talked about the woman. The love in the member’s face as he spoke of her was hard to miss. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him and risk breaking up such love. So I lied to Dagger and told him I didn’t recognize that particular member. In the end, I told him I was sure it was another member’s child. To which that member, Mac, accepted without question. Well, at least not until around the time Mitchell, my baby boy, was six. Everything had been going so well. Because I had been a club girl, Mac hadn’t claimed me as his old lady. They didn’t want there to be issues within the ranks or drama if any of the other old ladies found out I had slept with some of their husbands. So I was kept out of the mix. I wasn’t invited to the old ladies’ meetings. Mac didn’t take me with him to family events. It was something that bothered me to some extent but knowing he was not actually my son's father. I didn’t push the subject. The knowledge of him not being my son's father was something I didn’t think he himself would ever figure out. But Mac was smart. He noticed Mitchell didn’t share any resemblance to him. I mean, the man had red hair, blue eyes, and was pasty white. Mitchell, on the other hand, had brown eyes, dark brown hair, tan skin. I couldn’t even pass any of those traits off as from me. I had blue eyes, olive skin, and my natural hair color was light brown. So when Mac had a DNA test done on him and Mitchell, I wasn’t at all surprised when the results came back as not being a match. Of Course, this led to Mac being pissed off. He felt betrayed. I had lied to him. Let him believe Mitchell was his son. Allowed him to take the hit within the club for having knocked up a club girl, causing him to have to come up with reasons for the other members' old ladies as to why he wasn’t claiming me as his. A situation he hated dealing with. He was being judged for his decision when in the end, it was to keep me safe. Something he only did because he believed I was the mother of his child. After the two of us fought for a long time, he left. He simply packed his bags and left. Leaving me broken-hearted. I was a mess. And then there was Mitchell, who cried for a father who wasn’t even his father. I didn’t know what else to do, so I simply told him so. Taking my son, I moved us to another town away from the club. All I wanted to do was live my life and get over Mac and my time with the club. I moved us a few hours away from the club to another town. My brother had moved out this way a few years ago and had started up his own auto body shop, and was willing to help me get settled in the town over from him. I was able to get a job at a local store that was willing to work around Mitchell’s school schedule. As the years went on, I tried dating guys again, but they all seemed to want one thing and one thing only. Then I met Danny. He was a little rough around the edges, but I loved him. And he loved me and was willing to help me with my little boy. A little boy that wasn’t so little anymore and was constantly getting himself into trouble. He needed a man around to show him how to act, and I know that if he had given Danny a real chance, he would have turned out better. Instead, he never changed, no matter how hard Danny tried to help him. Mitchell was just an angry child. He always had been, ever since Mac left us. It broke my heart, but I eventually had to let my little boy go, and I hoped my brother would be able to help him when the school informed me they were ready to expel him from school altogether because of his fighting and disrupting the others.