Jude: The Black Roses MC, Book Two, page 1
Copyright © 2023 by Kate Randall
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Xoxo
To Matt. Thank you for being just as excited about the unhinged antics I wrote about as I am. Love you, babe.
Contents
Prologue Lucy
1. Lucy
2. Jude
3. Lucy
4. Jude
5. Lucy
6. Jude
7. Lucy
8. Jude
9. Lucy
10. Jude
11. Jude
12. Lucy
13. Lucy
14. Jude
15. Lucy
16. Jude
17. Lucy
18. Jude
19. Lucy
20. Jude
21. Lucy
22. Jude
23. Lucy
24. Jude
Epilogue Jude
Also By Kate
Acknowledgements
About Kate
Prologue
Lucy
“Lucinda, it’s time to come in,” Mama calls from our rundown house in the middle of Nowhere, Nevada. Well, some people know where it is, but they’re not the kind of people you want knocking on your door. At least, I don’t. Someday soon, I plan on leaving this shithole behind. I know there are places out there where you don’t have to worry about an explosion in your backyard because someone is cooking meth and had an accident. I’m certain other girls get to go to school and aren’t betrothed to some creepy elder’s son from the time they took their first steps.
“Lucinda, get in here,” Mama hollers again.
“She sounds pissed, Lu. We should head back,” my sister says next to me. It’s amazing how different Cecilia and I are, seeing as we came from the same parents. Cece is the rule follower, never wanting to disappoint our parents or the elders. I, on the other hand, can’t wait for the day to tell them all to shove their rules and beliefs straight up where the sun don’t shine.
“She just wants us in because those creeps from that motorcycle club are here,” I tell Cece from behind the giant decaying barn a few hundred feet from our home.
It’s hot as hell in the desert, and this is the best place to find some shade in the afternoon. Especially considering the last place I want to be is in my stuffy room in our little house. From back here, there’s nothing but flat lands and open desert as far as the eye can see. There’s a fence that surrounds the perimeter of the compound I was born on and if my family had it their way, would die on. Guards patrol all day and all night, whether it’s to keep people in or unwanted people out, who knows? Probably a little of both.
My sister is sending me nervous glances, her eyes darting between me and the direction of the house as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes at her obvious discomfort. “Let’s go in.”
Cece’s shoulders sag in relief as we make our way back to the house.
“Sorry, Lucinda. I just don’t like making Mama or Daddy mad. The last time we defied them…” Her voice trails off.
I’m certain she’s reliving the memory of the last time we were late coming in for dinner. Elder Otto decided the only suitable punishment was to go without dinner. Instead of eating, we were made to recite bible verses on our knees until four in the morning in the little chapel at our town’s center.
It may sound a bit hypocritical of our elders, cooking meth while supposedly being so devoted to God and believing we’re his chosen disciples. They justify it as supplying the weak with drugs to get addicted to, and in turn, we get weapons supplied to us for the inevitable war that’s coming. I haven’t been around many people who take the kind of drugs our compound supplies. The few times I’ve seen what it does to a person was enough to scare the hell out of me. The men who come to make trades are more than enough proof of what happens to the people who use what we make. The elders strictly forbid any use of drugs or alcohol on the compound. One of the many rules we must follow to be considered worthy in the eyes of the Lord.
There have been a few times I’ve accompanied my mama to town to pick up supplies, and every single time, she made sure to impress upon us the importance of our rules. Don’t talk to anyone, especially if they wear a badge. The police are evil in her eyes, trying to enforce the laws of man, not God.
The men who came to the exchange meetings weren’t much more inclined to be friendly with the police, either. They called them pigs, but the ones I saw around the nearest tiny town didn’t look anything like the animals we raised and slaughtered for food. The men who visit were more akin to pigs, at least in the way they smelled.
The last day I was allowed to go to town with my mama and sister, I stole a magazine from the rack in front of the checkout at the store. The cashier was busy bagging the few items we bought while trying not to ogle us. I saw the stares and heard the snickers when we walked around. It was uncomfortable, and I’d silently cry on the way home. I know what people think. We’re freaks. At least that’s the term thrown around most often. When I got home with the magazine, I read through it at least a hundred times. The pages were curled and worn at the edges, bound to fall out any second. It showed pictures of cute boys, not the dirty ones around here, with anger hidden behind their eyes. The girls wore makeup and clothes much nicer than the shapeless dresses I was forced to don every day.
Daddy found me one day hiding behind the barn with my magazine after losing track of time. I thought his head was going to shoot right off his neck. I’d never seen his face so red when he ripped the magazine from my hands and grabbed me by the arm, dragging me to the chapel. Elder Otto was holding a meeting inside, and my father threw me on the floor in front of him with my crumpled magazine. Let’s just say I would have rather recited bible verses for three days straight than endure the punishment Elder Otto doled out that day.
I was twelve then and knew this wasn’t what life was supposed to look like. Five years later and I haven’t changed my mind. Now, at seventeen, I’m looking for any opportunity to free myself from this place. I would have last year, but the idea of leaving my sister is what keeps me here. She’s two years younger and a statuesque blonde beauty. I see the way most of the elders look at her, like they’re sizing her up for their sons or maybe even themselves. Women don’t have a long life expectancy around here, and it never fails that as soon as one of the wives passes, the man is married to a younger version of the one before. It makes my stomach turn to think that could be Cece’s fate.
“Well, it’s about time,” Mama says with her hands on her hips, shooting my sister and me a disapproving glare. “Your father is going to be here any minute with Elder Otto and Jasper.”
Mama turns, and I roll my eyes behind her back. There’s no way in hell I’d do it in front of her.
Jasper is supposed to be my husband next year. He’s not much older than me, two years to be exact, but he has the same evil gleam in his eyes that his daddy, Elder Otto, has. And every time he smiles at me, I think of a shark with big white teeth ready to tear into my flesh. It’s unnerving, and the idea of having to be married to him turns my stomach sour. Not that I was ever given a voice in their choice of husband or allowed an opinion on the matter. Mama wasn’t, and I hate the idea of what I know happens to her happening to me. I hear her cries at night and see the bruises in the morning. She doesn’t speak of them, so neither do any of us.
Cecilia and I make our way to the kitchen to get cleaned up and help with dinner.
The sound of the front door opening and three men speaking loudly as they shed their coats in the small entryway instantly has me on edge. Cece senses my tension and rubs a reassuring hand over my back for a brief moment.
“Hello, Lucinda,” Jasper calls from the entrance to the kitchen.
I turn and do my best to give him a welcoming smile. There’s no doubt in my mind it looks as forced as it feels.
Before Mama or Cecilia turn to greet our guests, Jasper’s eyes run the length of my body in a lascivious manner. While my sister is tall and willowy, I’m about five inches shorter and cursed with curves that the men at the compound have been leering at since I was thirteen.
“Hello, Jasper. We’re so glad you could make it tonight. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes. Can I offer you something to drink?” Mama asks politely. I can’t tell how she feels about the idea of me marrying Jasper. Not that her opinion would matter one way or another.
“Thank you. I’ll have a glass of water.”
Mama nudges me in the arm, which is her way of telling me to tend to him.
I fill a glass and bring it to him. When he takes it, his fingers brush mine, sending icicles down my spine. Gross.
“Thank you, Lucinda.”
Why do I feel like after a few words and no more than two minutes in his company, I need a scalding hot shower?
Jasper turns and leaves the kitchen, shooting me a lecherous grin over his shoulder. Mama starts bringing plates of bread and the roast she made to the dining room. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my sister staring at me. I ignore it. What can she possibly say that would make the situation any better? I’m going to be forced into marriage with Jasper, and there’s nothing either of us can do about it.
At the dinner table, Elder Otto leads us in prayer before we start eating. I swear he drones on for so long, there’s no way the meat isn’t cold at this point. Conversation is boring as my father and Elder Otto discuss the particulars of the exchange happening after dinner. They speak in code, but it’s a well-known open secret that the elders trade meth for guns.
“On to happier news,” Elder Otto says, looking pointedly at my father.
“Ah, yes.” The smile on my father’s face is so out of character for him, I immediately know whatever he says won’t be good. “Lucinda, we’ve decided the time has come for you and Jasper to be married.”
My eyes dart between him and Mama, who is busy scrutinizing the piece of dried out roast on her plate and not meeting my confused gaze.
“Right. Next year. As far as I knew, it was already decided.” Desperation claws at me, hoping against hope he isn’t about to say what he’s alluding to.
“Yes, but your father and I agreed the marriage should come sooner rather than later,” Elder Otto replied.
“Next week, to be exact,” Jasper supplies.
My eyes shoot between my parents, my mother still refusing to look at me.
“Why?” I ask my father, who irritably dabs the corner of his mouth with his napkin.
“Honestly, Lucinda, you have been a willful child since you were in diapers. It seems no matter how much your mother and I have prayed for guidance or talked with the elders about how best to handle your blatant disrespect of our rules, nothing has helped.”
My father and the elders have tried to beat my “rebellious” streak out of me since my father found the magazine I stole, claiming they were doing what was best for a stubborn girl who needed to learn her place.
“As such,” he continues. “We feel it’s in the best interest of Cecilia for you not to be here influencing her.”
I look toward my sister, who is staring at her plate, tears streaming down her face.
“Having a household and children of your own will tame your willful ways and bring you closer to your purpose in life.”
In their eyes, the only purpose any woman has is to keep her husband “satisfied” and bear his offspring. A shudder rolls through me at the thought of Jasper touching me that way.
Fear and rage violently run through my body as the men stare silently at me as though I should be thanking them. There’s no doubt in my mind what’s waiting for me after I marry Jasper. How can my mother and father sit here and act as though this is what’s best for me or my sister? Knowing I have no choice in the matter and feeling trapped in this horrible existence has me so damn angry. Angry at my parents, angry at myself for not being braver and leaving, and angry at every person on this damn compound who allows their daughters to be sold off like cattle.
The plate of food in front of me is fuzzy as rage builds inside me, clouding my vision. I sit in silence as my parents, Elder Otto, and Jasper drone on about the goings on around the compound as if they haven’t just shattered my world. Swallowing a couple more bites of food takes monumental effort since the roast has turned to ash on my tongue. The only thing that registers is the voice in my head repeating the same thing over and over—I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this.
My mother pinches the back of my arm roughly when Jasper and Elder Otto get up to leave, shocking me out of my stupor.
“Come say goodbye,” she hisses in my ear.
I go through the motions of fake smiling but don’t feel anything. My anger has turned into numbness, and there is no doubt in my mind this is how I’ll feel for the rest of my life if I stay.
After doing the dishes and saying our evening prayers, which consisted of my father thanking the Lord that I’m to be married to such a great and honorable man, we’re sent to our room.
As Cecilia braids her long blonde hair, I pace the small bedroom.
“I can’t do it, Cece. I can’t marry him.”
“You don’t have a choice, Lu. Daddy and Elder Otto have decided. No one has ever gone against the elder’s wishes, especially when it comes to marriage.”
It’s true. No one has, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a first time for everything.
Stopping in the middle of our bedroom, I look my sister in the eye.
“I’m leaving.”
She abruptly stops braiding her hair and looks at me with wide eyes.
“What are you talking about, Lucinda? Where are you going to go?”
I turn to our shared closet and grab a small sack and begin filling it with a few simple dresses and the one pair of loose pants and t-shirt I own.
“I don’t know, Cece. Anywhere but here. If I marry Jasper, I may as well kill myself now. I’ll be as good as dead if I have to live the kind of life he’d subject me to.” The thought of his evil smile runs through my mind.
“Come with me,” I tell her, not wanting her to suffer the same fate as every other woman on the compound.
“You know I can’t. You don’t even know what waits for you out there.”
It’s true, anytime we would daydream about our lives, our futures, I would tell her my dreams of running away. She never shared those fantasies with me, insisting she loved our family and loved the Lord too much to abandon either.
“You’re right, Cece, I don’t, but I know what waits for me here. I have to leave tonight, or I’ll never get away. Please, come with me.” I implore her with my eyes as I stand in front of the open window in our bedroom.
My sister walks over to me, pulling me into a hug, and we clutch tightly to one another. At that moment, I know she won’t come, and she knows this is the last time she’ll see me.
“I love you, Lucinda. Always remember that.”
“I love you too, Cecilia.”
Never in any of my fantasies growing up did I think I would truly escape. Or that years later, I would find myself back in this hell. I certainly never imagined the next time I left, it would be in a truck with a bunch of bikers as flames destroyed my nightmare.
Chapter one
Lucy
The clubhouse is packed tonight, which is usual for any party thrown by the club. Of course, my best friend Charlie disappeared a little while ago with her man, Linc. I swear, those two can’t keep their hands off each other, and every chance he gets, he has to whisk her away under the guise of needing to show her “something.” It’s no secret what he needs to show her is inside his pants.
That leaves me to my own devices in a room full of bikers. The last few months, these guys have become more like brothers to me and Charlie, with one exception—Jude. The six-foot-three British biker may be hot as fuck to look at, with that thick blond hair hanging just past his shoulders and piercing blue eyes that always seem to have a storm brewing within, but the man is a total pain in my ass.
The moment I met him, he rubbed me the wrong way. From the way he spoke to Charlie when Linc found her and me in a bar all those months ago, to the way he constantly looked at my best friend with suspicion while her crazy-ass ex and the Italian mafia were on the hunt for her, as though she had something to do with them coming after the club. I mean, technically, she did since she was hiding some important information, but she was never going to use it against Linc or the club. But the way he looked at her like she was the cause of all their problems set my teeth on edge. It reminded me too much of how I grew up. When you lived a life like mine and were constantly blamed for all the ails of mankind because of what’s between your legs, and the fact that you didn’t conform to some asshole’s demands, anyone even hinting at that kind of attitude makes me see red right off the bat.
