Ruby: Black Hawk Gems Book 3 (Black Hawk Gems MC) Read online

  Ruby

  Black Hawk Gems Book 3

  Rebekah L. Thompson

  Pages and Adventures Publishing

  Copyright © 2021 Rebekah L. Thompson

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  To those who choose not to sit by while evil reigns.

  Other books by this author

  Black Hawk Gems Series

  1) Emerald: Black Hawk Gems Book 1

  2) Sapphire: Black Hawk Gems Book 2

  3) Ruby: Black Hawk Gems Book 3

  Standalone Books

  1) Not So Cinderella

  Ruby

  — It’s always darkest before the dawn —

  — New love will heal old wounds —

  _________________

  Beginning with an abusive father, Anastasia’s experience with men hasn’t been the stuff of fairytales. Upon settling down with her family in a new city—Redwater—life doesn’t seem to change for Ana. Different house. Different school. But all the pain, depression, and uncertainty remains.

  There is, however, hope, in the form of one young man who just may be her savior—despite a rough façade. It seems that not all knights wear armor. Sometimes, leather will do . . .

  An active member of the town’s motorcycle club, Clarke Woods (AKA Sniper) immediately catches Anastasia’s attention, and after being paired together for a daunting English assignment, the two are set to grow much closer, sharing their darkest secrets.

  As violence at home grows worse by the day, this budding love may be endangered. At last, on the brink of happiness, Anastasia will need to fight for not just herself but the very key to salvation.

  *** Content/Trigger warning:

  bullying

  abuse/violence and

  some cursing***

  Prologue

  Ruby

  “Bye, Lil’ Mama,” Wolf whispers as he once again kisses Sapphire. She blushes from the public display and hugs him before the husbands leave the room. Sniper, I also call him Clarke- which is his given name- kisses the top of my head and strides out as well.

  The club is leaving on a ride today, but the ladies decided to remain with Sapphire and little baby Sterling. She’s not able to go on rides yet, since Sterling is in the hospital. Because Sterling was born prematurely, she still has to stay in the NICU.

  When Hawk asked who’d volunteer to stay with us, Wolf wanted to speak up, but he needs to get out with his club brothers. Sapphire kept trying to get him to ride the last two rides, but he wouldn’t leave her and the baby. So Hawk, our leader, and Sapphire told Wolf that he needed to take part in the ride. He hasn’t participated in the last couple of runs.

  Because of Sapphire’s kidnapping, the NICU Sterling was born in isn’t in our hometown. So, every week we drive up and hang out for a bit. Usually, the guys go on day-long rides.

  This time, Clarke volunteered to guard the door today, making sure we’re safe. I don’t think anything would go down in a hospital, but from personal experience, betting on the hospital for safety isn’t a sure bet. We’re not in our territory, and Hawk wanted to be sure no one bothered us.

  “Mama, come see the little baby!” Zeke, mine and Clarke’s son, shouts, pulling on my arm.

  Kneeling, I smile. “Buddy, you can’t yell in a hospital. Use your inside voice.”

  Zeke gives me a wide-eyed, guilty expression, mumbling, “I’m sorry, Mama.”

  “It’s okay, buddy.” I kiss his forehead, so he knows I’m not angry. “Why don’t you go play with Reece and Rosaleigh over on the couch?” I ask. Immediately, Zeke beams and grabs his Superman action figure.

  “Rosa! I’m going to save you!” Zeke whisper-yells, running over to where Reece and Rosaleigh are playing. He’s seven, and Reece and Rosaleigh, Emerald’s twins, are four. It thrilled me when I found out Emerald had kids because Zeke doesn’t have many friends other than a few at school. The primary reason being there aren’t many children in the club right now.

  However, Zeke has taken a shine to Rosaleigh, always wanting to spend time with her and asking me if she can come over. It’s adorable.

  “I totally ship them,” Sapphire sighs happily as Zeke tucks some of Rosa’s hair back behind her ear. Like I said, adorable.

  Chuckling, I turn to Emerald and Sapphire. “Are you ready to take her home next week?” Emerald asks, looking over at the pink bundle. Sapphire takes a seat beside the baby bed and nods. Sterling has been in the hospital for about two-and-a-half months, and the doctor just this morning told Sapphire and Wolf they could bring Sterling home next week.

  I’m sure they’re tired of sleeping in this room or at the hotel they acquired. They’re probably itching to get home. I know I would be.

  “We’re beyond ready. Sterling Skye is breathing well on her own now, and she’s gained enough weight to stay warm without heating lights in the sleep unit,” she informs us. We nod. Everyone was so worried when we heard that Sterling, after her psycho-ex kidnaped sapphire, was born prematurely. When the guys finally found her, she was going into labor.

  The whole situation was scary, and we were all worried the baby wouldn’t make it. So when she made it, the guys all showered her with gifts. If you’ve never seen big bikers buying pink outfits, frilly socks, and little stuffed animals, you haven’t lived. It was probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

  “Oh, and this morning, she weighed 6 pounds and 9 ounces.” Sapphire grins.

  Emerald leans over to Sapphire and pulls her into a hug. “That’s great; we’re happy for you,” Emerald coos. Sapphire smiles and looks at Sterling, who’s sleeping, like usual.

  She’s such a quiet little thing. When I had Zeke, he was so loud all the time, whether he was crying or just making gurgling noises when trying to talk; then again, I had him on time. Perhaps that has something to do with it.

  Emerald leans back in her chair with a sigh and rubs her growing belly. “How are you doing, Em? About three months, right?” She nods, a big smile stretching her lips. Smiles are flying around right now from all the love in the air.

  “Yeah. This pregnancy differs from the last, but that’s probably because I’ve only got one bike in the garage,” Emerald jokes with a pat to her belly, which makes us all laugh.

  My eyes sweep across the room and land on Zeke. I watch as he plays with the twins, and when Rosaleigh falls, Zeke instantly stops whatever he’s doing and helps her up. It makes me wonder what he’d be like with a younger sibling.

  A hand touches my arm, pulling my eyes away from the kids. I turn back to the girls. “You okay?” They ask at the same time. I nod and give them a small smile.

  “Just thinking. When Sniper and I first found out I was pregnant, he told me he wanted a bunch of kids,” I answer, and they both nod, listening intently. We’ve become friends but never really talked about the past- or at least never talked about my past. It’s not something I like to discuss, usually, and since all the guys know, we don’t bring it up.

  “But, we haven’t talked about it since we had Zeke. I wonder if he wants more and isn’t saying anything because he doesn’t think I agree. Or maybe he just changed his mind when we
had Zeke.” I voice my inner thoughts. It’s weird to think he’d change his mind, but daunting to think about asking him. What if he says he doesn’t want another?

  Sapphire takes my hand in hers and gently squeezes it. “I think you should talk to him about it, honey. You won’t know until you ask.”

  Peering into her eyes, I see encouragement there. “You think?” I ask, and both of them nod. Exhaling, I lean back in my seat and glance over at the door. He’s right outside. I could ask him now, but I should wait for a little more privacy.

  It’s not like we’re too old to have kids. I turn twenty-five this year, so we still have plenty of prime years left. So I promise myself that I’ll bring it up to Clarke tonight after we put Zeke down.

  Even if it’s just to clear the air and make a final decision, we need to talk.

  “Speaking of you and Sniper, what’s your story? How did you two meet?” Sapphire asks, curiosity overcoming her features as her eyebrows tick up. “I know Emerald and Hawk’s story, but you never told me yours.” I nod and take a deep breath. If anyone would understand and not judge me, it’d be these girls.

  “Well, it’s a complicated story,” I reply, and Sapphire claps her hands.

  “Oh, do I need to get popcorn, or do I need tissues? Ooh, do I need to get a pregnancy pillow to make sure Emerald doesn’t fall over?”

  Odd question. Em isn’t even big enough to fall over because of a pregnant belly.

  Chuckling, I shake my head and smack her arm. “No, but I guess since we’re here for the next several hours, I have time.” She smiles and leans back in her seat, keeping her eyes on me. Emerald mirrors her movements, settling in, even though she’s already heard some of my story.

  “When I was seventeen, I moved to Redwater….”

  Chapter 1

  Ruby

  The car rolls to a stop, causing me to look up. My new house, well, our new house. My eyes flicker to my mom and dad, who sit in the front seats. Mom is on the phone talking to a client, as usual, and now that we’re parked, Dad is on his phone too.

  When he finishes his message, he glares back at me. “Why are you just sitting there? Go inside,” he orders. I nod and scramble out of the car.

  Mom’s design team moved all of our stuff last week, except for the bags currently in the trunk. I study the mansion and sigh. It’s just another big house with those gaudy outdoor chandeliers and big white columns. Both of my parents are wealthy; my mother has an Interior Design business. My father is the new surgeon at Redwater Hospital in town.

  From what I saw when we drove through, it’s a relatively middle-sized town. Not too big or too small. No matter the size, it still passed the different areas of wealth as we drove in.

  Being the snobs they are, my parents wouldn’t lower themselves to live anywhere other than in a mansion. I’d prefer to live somewhere more practical and homier. Sometimes our houses are too big, and I could even describe them as empty, even though we’ve got a million things.

  My opinion doesn’t matter, though; it never does.

  “I said get inside,” my father barks, forcing me out of my thoughts. He glares again, and my heart skips a beat.

  “Yes, sir,” I mumble, rushing inside. I run up the stairs and peek into each room before finally finding mine. I enter quickly and close the door behind me, leaning my back against it, sliding down, and closing my eyes to listen for any sign of following footsteps. When I hear nothing, I force my breathing back to normal and survey my room.

  The room is large- big surprise- and the walls white. The bed sits in one corner of the room, white and grey covers and pillows adorning it. String lights, already plugged in, run along the tops of the walls. Next to the window, there’s also a hanging chair; imagine what it would look like if a porch swing had a baby with a hammock.

  Beside my bed, my desk holds my computer, a lamp, books, and office supplies. They pushed my usual chair up to the desk with my favorite blanket draped over the back.

  My eyes flicker to the other side, where my vanity sits next to my closet door. A sizable, lighted mirror tops the vanity with shelves right next to it that hold makeup, curling and flat irons, a brush, and other products I might need to get ready each day.

  Standing, I walk over to the door of my closet and pull it open, revealing the most oversized walk-in closet I’ve ever seen. Like I said, my parents have money, and to make up for neglecting me, they buy material things; well, at least that’s why my mom does it. My dad has a whole different reason for throwing his money at me.

  The design team already hung all of my clothes up in the closet. Jeez. Couldn’t they have let me at least organize my clothes? It’s weird to think one of Mom’s goons touched all my clothes. I shake my head and continue looking around the closet.

  The chandelier is overkill, as is the significant white island containing jewelry and other accessories sprawled across the surface. It reminds me a bit of the closet Mia gets in Princess Diaries. Honestly, I don’t use half of this stuff my parents buy me. They’d be better off not wasting their money, but they don’t listen to me.

  I leave the closet to check the bathroom. If it’s anything like the rest of the room, I’m sure it’s huge. Everything so far has been in color schemes of white and grey, and the bathroom is no different. Some walls are white, and some are grey. The counters and floor are made of white marble, I think, and tile that has grey flecks on the surface. The shower is a stand-up glass shower with a big tub next to it.

  That’ll be nice to soak in when I’m sore.

  My parents don’t like me leaving the house much, especially my dad after he’s been in one of his moods, so Mom told me they added something to keep entertained while I’m inside. She said it’s behind the mirror, which at first confused me, but as I open the body-sized mirror, I find a hidden door.

  Curious, I step through the door and walk down a dark, narrow hallway. It takes a minute, but I walk toward the light and gasp when I enter the large room. It’s a library- my own personal library. I’m talking full-on Beauty and the Beast style with what looks like hundreds of books.

  I take a second to look around. All my favorite books are here, as well as a bunch I don’t recognize. Not that they care if I spend money, but I won’t have to buy a new book in a while; or at least that’s what I tell myself because if I see a book, I’ll probably get it. It’s one of my guilty pleasures. However, I have enough here to last me months, maybe even a year.

  The library has large windows where sunlight shines in and fills the room. There’s also a white couch that stretches in an L shape along the length of three walls. Moving to the right, I climb up the black staircase that reaches upwards to the second level that looks like an indoor porch all the way around the room to make it to where I can reach the top shelves.

  When I reach the top of the stairs, I immediately start searching for a book. I’ve read a lot of these and stop when I find the Young Adult section. I’ve dubbed a lot of these as my comfort books- books I could read over and over while still loving every bit of the storyline.

  Looking at the spines, I find they’re arranged by the author’s last name and genre. This is precisely how I like them. If I want a particular book, I know almost exactly where it is. So, I grab a random book and head back down to read. I eye the white couch for a second before walking back to my room to sit in the hanging seat. It’s more comfortable, and better yet, it isn’t white.

  White furniture makes me uncomfortable. It’s too easy to get dirty.

  Stepping back through the mirror, I make my way to the swing seat and kick off my converse. Holding the swing so it won’t move, I sit and crack my book open, ready to lose myself in a different world.

  “Anastasia!”

  Sighing, I get back up. I didn’t even read one sentence, and he’s screaming my name. I set my book on my desk and quickly make my way out of my room. If Dad is calling my name, it can only mean one or two things.

  “Yes, sir?”

&nbs
p; “Get in the kitchen and make dinner,” he growls, glaring at me from his seat on the couch. I nod silently and run into the kitchen. Exhaling deeply, I go to the large pantry, grabbing a box of pasta and setting it beside the stove while I grab a pot and fill it with water. Then, I pour the pasta into the water and put it to a boil.

  Simultaneously, I grab a bag of frozen meatballs out of the freezer, pour a handful onto a pan, and slide them in the oven to cook. Once the meatballs are in, I look over to find the pasta bubbling over.

  Crap!

  I pull the pot off the stove and slop the noodles into the strainer, testing them to make sure they aren’t overcooked. I don’t have time to re-cook his meals. They’re fine, not too squishy, and not rigid either. I set the pasta aside so the water will filter out just as the buzzer goes off, signaling the meatballs’ finish. I pull the tray out and set it on top of the stove to cool off.

  While the meatballs cool, I grab the spaghetti sauce and a plate. I scoop some pasta onto the plate, then pour the spaghetti sauce on. The sauce and pasta are cold again, so I stick the plate in the microwave for thirty seconds.

  If I give Dad a plate of cold food, he won’t be happy. Or should I say he won’t be forgiving? He doesn’t forgive much these days, even little things. I’m pretty sure his heart is a black void of nothingness.

  The microwave beeps. I test the warmth, then plop five meatballs on top of the sauce-covered noodles and grab a cold water bottle from the refrigerator. Next, I grab a fork, a knife, and a napkin, finally organizing everything onto a dinner tray.

  Taking a deep, steadying breath to stop my shaking hands, I carry the food into the living room where my father waits. He doesn’t look up as I stop at his side, though. He merely waves his hand at the table beside his chair. “Your food, sir.” I speak softly and evenly because he doesn’t like it when I raise my voice or use an attitude. Not that I ever do, but he finds problems where none exist.