Begging Topher (Grimm Brothers MC Book 5) Read online

  Begging

  Topher

  Grimm Brothers MC Book 5

  Roxanne Greening

  Dedicated to my husband and kids for their love and support. To my dad and my mom for making me who I am today. And the rest of my family for all their support!

  Text Copyright 2019 © Roxanne Greening

  All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved in all media. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission. Except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  The moral rights of Begging Topher as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs, and patients act of 1988.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locales, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination and any resemblance to places or events is coincidental or fictionalized.

  Published in the United States of America 2019

  About The Author:

  Roxanne Greening is a mother of two young children and lives in the beautiful rural area in West Virginia, USA. It was because of her love for reading romances, that Roxanne decided to write her own. However, it is the MC romances that she enjoys writing the most. “Being able to become a rebel, an outlaw (in fiction) is a powerful thing.” And so, Axel, the first book of the SONS OF THE APOCALYPSE, was published in August 2016.

  Her comedy nonfiction, The Rantings of a Crazy Person, was born out of demands from her family and friends to write about her own experiences. And her children’s book, The chronicles of rocky and binx aka the steam punk kid and the angel of death. Titanic's Doom! Came from wanting to write a book for her son who suffers from ADHD.

  Roxanne also enjoys to quilt, and secretly wants to be a ninja.

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  Author Roxanne Greening

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  Parkersburg, W.V. 26101

  Prologue:

  Two Years Ago.

  It wasn’t always like this. The grind of filth and fear. There as a time we were happy and safe. When mom and dad were still here, and not off with a new family or god knows where.

  She loved us, and we were happy. I’m not sure the exact moment that changed, just one day she was gone.

  The calls and visits became less and less. My sister would put on a brave face trying to lessen the blow of being unwanted and replaced.

  Even then I kept the belief that sometimes bad things happen. It even occurred in those fairytale books, and I hoped everything would all work out in time.

  My sister told me when I was fourteen that it was okay to believe in fairytales. She said we were all programmed to believe in them, it was a human flaw.

  We believe that when a boy pushed you, called you names or stole your cookie that he just had a crush on you. Then as we got older, we believed that if he’s spending less time with you or calling less that he’s just playing hard to get. Or maybe he’s keeping things fresh in the relationship.

  My sister said that we lie to ourselves and to our friends. I just smiled and told her that there were cases where love prevailed. When the couple had that sweet happily ever after even though there were turmoil and mistakes along the way.

  I wasn’t willing to settle. I knew my soulmate was out there waiting for me. At no point would I say, ‘oh, this is good enough. I could have a good life with this man.’ No. I wanted it to be more like the flowers are duller, the air less fresh, and the sun less bright without that special someone.

  Chapter 1

  Brittany

  Six Months Ago.

  My sister Tori looked at me like I was an alien species that needed to be probed and maybe even dissected. She saved money for my birthday, and I had wanted only one thing.

  A tattoo. And not just any tattoo. Nope, I wanted roses. I wanted them to be red like the ones in Beauty and the Beast. It’s one of my favorite fairy tales.

  Unlike the other stories, he wasn’t perfect. He had the flaws, the emotions, and the rawness the other charmers didn’t have. And Bell? She was different as well. She had a love of books and the ability to see under the surface. I felt a slight kinship to her.

  I watched as my sister scanned the images. They were scattered on paper the size of a poster and enclosed in a protective poster frame.

  Each one was filled with different tattooed images. Mine? Wasn’t in there, it was different. I wanted it to have more than one rose, and I didn’t want the stems. I only wanted the cluster of red bloomed roses.

  This way there were more chances for me to find the one. And more time before the petals fell. I asked myself again, what did my prince charming look like? Would I know the moment our eyes met?

  Why did I think Ronald was that man? I had a date with him tonight. Another long night of hearing about how sexy I was. Honestly, it was exhausting. The more time I spent with him, the more I realized he definitely wasn’t the one.

  The idea of breaking up on my birthday though, it made me cringe. My face twisted at the thought and Tori looked at me a little more closely.

  “Does it hurt?” She asked.

  “Not really,” I tell her truthfully.

  “Then why the sour face?” She asked with a frown.

  “Ronald,” I replied with a twist of my lips. It was a rueful smile. I wanted what he couldn’t give me.

  She shuddered. I knew she hated Ronald. That should have been a sign that this wasn’t meant to be. Because honestly, my prince should be someone my sister could see as family.

  Why had I let our relationship get this far? Sometimes I questioned my need for this other person. Did I really need this faceless man to complete my life?

  “Stand him up,” she tells me with a shrug and a cruel tilt of her lips.

  I thought about it. Did that make me a horrible person? The man outlining the roses on my skin spoke up, “Sounds like you’re not interested, leave his ass hanging.”

  My sister laughed hard, and I felt myself smile. Not only because of the man’s words but because my sister was laughing.

  She didn’t do that much. Not since dad left and she started working at that bar. My eyes closed. She hated it, and I hated her working there.

  “You can spend the night with me. Dinner, take out, and maybe a movie? We can stop by the Redbox and rent one,” she tells me with a smile.

  We didn’t spend enough time together. My sister worked so much, and something in me warmed. Why the hell would I go out with Ronald if I could have this night with my sister?

  “Do I get to pick?” I asked her with a big Cheshire cat smile.

  She hated romance movies, and I loved them. She believed that there was no such thing as love outside of the family. That it was a simulated emotion that after time people grew tired of faking.

  “I guess,” she tells me with a sigh.

  Her smile took the sting out of her depressing sigh. I knew she loved me. She was the only person who did.

  Her eyes took on a sadness. As if she could tell where my thoughts had gone. I knew she was thinking about what our life had become.

  I blamed mom leaving us, but it was like a domino effect. She knocked over one, and they just kept falling. Dad started d
rinking and pretending that we didn’t exist. It forced my sister to grow up fast and take care of me.

  She put on so many brave faces so many times. I could see the hurt and sadness in her eyes as her friends went out and she was stuck home watching me.

  It was like life was stolen from her. But not once did she complain about the burden that I was to her. She made sure that I felt loved and cherished.

  “What about work?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “I don’t work tonight,” she tells me quietly.

  It was a lie, she worked every night. Would they punish her for not being there?

  “Are you sure?” I pushed.

  “Brit, don’t worry about it, okay? That’s my job,” she gave me a loving smile.

  But I was worried. I mustered up a smile then watched as my sister’s shoulders slowly lost the tension. She laughed as I stuck my tongue out at her.

  “I can’t believe you’re eighteen today,” she tells me with a shake of her head.

  “It’s your birthday?” The tattoo artist asked.

  He had paused as he dipped the tattoo gun into the black ink.

  “Yeah,” I shrugged.

  He looked at me like he could read my soul. He turned and gave my sister the same deep penetrating stare.

  “It’s on the house, but don’t tell anyone,” he gave us a big smile.

  My sister tenses. I could literally read it on her face. Payment was always required in some way.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Doll. I don’t want any kind of payment,” he empathized the last four words firmly.

  She nodded looking down at her hands. My sister has dealt with some really nasty men. They all wanted something that she didn’t want to give, and I was so fucking relieved they didn’t just take it.

  Chapter 2

  Brittany

  Six Months Ago.

  Ronald was waiting by the door to our apartment. I stifled a scream that wanted to erupt from my throat. My heart then tried to beat out of my chest. Crap, I felt almost like I had a small heart attack.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him.

  “Where have you been?” He growled while latching onto my arm painfully.

  “Let me go,” I tell him firmly.

  “I fucking own you,” he growled at me.

  “Fuck you, Ronald, no one owns me,” I tell him.

  Anger and fear contorted inside of me like a small tornado. Heat rushed to my face as he pulled me closer to him.

  “Why are you like this?” I asked him as I scanned the hallway hoping for someone to come to my rescue.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” he shouts, leaning in so close that I could feel his heated breath against my lips. I give a small involuntary shudder. Oh god, don’t get any closer.

  “Out and you need to go before Tori gets here,” I tell him firmly.

  “Fuck your sister,” Ronald snapped.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” my sister’s voice came from somewhere behind him.

  “Stay the fuck out of this,” he growled at Tori.

  “Let her go and get the fuck out of here before I add a new hole to that body of yours,” she tells him sweetly.

  My eyes closed as a laugh tried to bubble out of me. Kind of like a bottle of dish soap shaken too hard. Slowly, I leaned to look over his shoulder.

  My sister Tori stood there with her feet shoulder length apart. Her arms were out in front of her and a gun held perfectly in both hands. She looked like a badass from Charlie’s Angels.

  Ronald gripped my wrist tighter as he turned his head to look at my sister. He tensed as he took her in. I wondered what he thought as he looked down the barrel.

  “Let her go now, Ronald. Then walk the fuck away,” she snarled at him.

  My shoulders lowered. I hadn’t realized they were almost touching my ears. The muscles in my body loosened as the fear started to dissipate. I knew my sister would pull that trigger and would do it with the smile she currently had plastered to her face.

  One finger after another slowly left my skin. When Ronald finally released me completely, he held up his hands with his palms out as he turned to look at my sister completely.

  “Start walking,” she snarled at him.

  My eyes closed as I heard his retreating steps. Then I heard them hitting the stairs at an increasing speed.

  “You okay?” Tori whispered as she pulled me into her body.

  “I am now,” I tell her with a shaky smile.

  “Where have you been?” she asked me.

  “I was out watching a late-night movie,” I tell her.

  She nodded. After the tattoo, she went and got me a gift certificate to the movie theater. A hundred dollars paid for a few movies and some snacks.

  “Let’s get inside, I need a shower,” she tells me, changing the subject almost as if she knew I didn’t want to talk about Ronald now.

  Chapter 3

  Topher

  Six Months Ago.

  Oh, Jerry, you stupid fucker. His sniffles did nothing but irritate me.

  “Are you fucking done yet?” I snap at him.

  I mean, I want to get something to eat and drink. Some whiskey, maybe a steak, and a baked potato. Hell, make it a loaded baked potato.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll do better,” Jerry begged again.

  Sighing, I crouched down with my wrist resting on my bent knee. My gun was hanging in my clutched hand.

  “We went over this Jerry. There is no ‘I’ll do better,’” I tell him with an over exaggerated sigh.

  “Please, one more chance,” he pleaded his eyes, looking up into mine almost like he was hoping to pull at my heartstrings. Was he stupid? My heart was black and as hard as coal.

  “Dig faster Jerry, or I’ll start shooting those knees. They are looking particularly good right now,” I tell him with a smirk.

  Rusty, one of our prospects, laughed and I turned to look at him. Rusty has been with us for about a year now. It was about time we voted him in. I’ll have to say something to Zane.

  “Don’t laugh too much you’re the one filling the hole,” I tell him.

  “Fucker,” he grumbled.

  I laughed, and this time Jerry sobbed louder. God be a man for once Jerry and shut that shit down.

  “Cruel as fuck man, making him dig his own grave,” Rusty says.

  “You want to dig it?” I asked him casually.

  “Fuck, no,” he laughs.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. So, shut the fuck up,” I tell Rusty, my eyes go back to Jerry. Fuck, could he go any slower?

  “Jerry, you’re going to die. Dragging it out does not help you in any way,” I tell him.

  Rusty kicked a rock, and I watched as it bounced off Jerry’s forehead. He cried out pausing in his digging to rub his head.

  I glared at Rusty. “Listen, fucker. As much as that was comical, I’m hungry,” my voice was harsh like I had too many smokes.

  “Sorry, boss,” he said sheepishly.

  “It was funny as fuck though,” I lightened my tone.

  Rusty smiled and turned his attention back to Jerry who was currently wiping his snot on his dirty button up shirt.

  “Come on Jerry, move this shit along,” I prompted.

  His bloodshot eyes looked up at me. They were watery and filled with terror. Why did he have to make this shit so difficult?

  “I’m sorry,” he tried again.

  “There’s no changing this. There will be no last-minute phone call like in the damn movies, Jerry. So, get this shit over with,” I tell him aspirated.

  He looks over towards Rusty like he was going to swoop in and save the day. Shaking my head, I raised my gun and fired it. The bullet hit the dirt just a foot from his leg.

  His girlish scream had Rusty laughing. Jerry was our accountant. The keyword here is ‘was’ or it will be as soon as I put a nice new hole in the center of his forehead.

  He thought he could move some money into an off-shore account that didn
’t belong to the club. Seems Jerry here was planning on retiring early.

  I was going over the books when I noticed these charges and they were consistent. Always for the same damn thing and for the same amount. Kind of like a monthly bill.

  So, I started backtracking it all. It went back for almost a year. Fucking Jerry had been ripping us off for a long time. We would have noticed this shit sooner if Sal wasn’t such a fucking control freak.

  When Reyes and Gunner killed Sal, Zane became president. Then I became vice president. First thing Zane had me do was look over the damn books.

  Boring as fuck. At least it was until I realized shit was going to get interesting soon. Jerry was looking at me oddly as I started grabbing book after book. Sweat had begun to pop up on his forehead.

  It didn’t take long for him to cry and agree to send all the money back to our accounts. My knife regretted not getting to play with him a little more.

  Taking a deep drag off my cigarette, I looked at the hole Jerry had dug himself. Shit, he did a good job. It was nice and deep, at least three feet over his five-foot-nine stature.

  Flicking my smoke at his face, I watched as it hit its mark and Jerry flinched.

  “Shovel,” I demanded, holding out my hand.

  His eyes watered even more as he lifted the handle in my direction. I made no move to lean forward. I made him stand on his toes to get the handle pressed into my palm.

  Rusty was looking particularly eager to get this over with. Yeah, me and you both. I looked at my gun then I look towards Rusty.

  “Want the honors?” I asked him.

  I had been ready to just kill Jerry and leave, but Rusty had to fill the hole. So maybe, just maybe, he deserved the reward of putting down our stray dog.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he said with excitement and something like pleasure reflecting through his eyes.

  “Goodbye, Jerry,” I tell him as I straddled my bike. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot was muffled due to the sound of my roaring motor.