Reconstruct Me (Breakneck Book 5) Read online

  Reconstruct Me

  Written by Crystal Spears

  Copyright © by Crystal Spears 2018

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher Crystal Spears except for brief quotations in a book review.

  All names, work of arts, places are fictitious and from the imagination from the Author.

  All references to historical events, real people, or real locales, or brands are used fictitiously.

  Other names, characters, place, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblances to actual events or locales or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This material contains New Adult/Mature acts and/or situations along with language.

  This material contains subject matters that may be triggers for some readers.

  This material contains brief racial slurs some readers might find offensive, and the other asks that you keep in mind this is a work of fiction; these are not her views in real life.

  Hello Readers,

  If you are new to Breakneck, my characters stories, move book to book. You will be lost if you try reading Reconstruct Me without reading the others. You will find the order of the series in the back of this novel.

  If you are returning to Breakneck, enjoy Pyro, he broke my heart many, many times.

  Crystal Spears

  Prologue

  A burning sensation trickles through my veins while a constant beep echoes in my ears. I try to open my eyes, but the light is too bright. A million questions surge into my brain, only to make my head throb. I lift my right hand, and it tremors as I bring it to my chest. The action forces me to pause when the movement brings me to an excruciating torment. I drop my arm back down to the cold bed as a soft click sounds to my right.

  “Careful there.”

  I stiffen with the unrecognizable voice, and I don’t dare open my eyes out of fear.

  It isn’t hard to figure out what happened.

  I remember every single detail of what transpired.

  I was bent over backward and raped, and when he was finished, I was shot multiple times.

  I open my eyes and reach up once more to grab at my chest as a single tear cascades down my cheek.

  I still won’t gaze over at the man who is now inches from me. “How long have I been out?” I croak.

  A sigh leaves his lips. “I’ve kept you under for almost two weeks.”

  “Two weeks!”

  “You were awake for the first few minutes of your surgery. It wasn’t pleasant, and you were screaming you didn’t want to go back.”

  It all comes back to me in a rapid-fire haze.

  “You’re right, I don’t,” I whisper.

  The tears flow more consistent now; I use my left hand to wipe them away fiercely. “I want to disappear.”

  I turn my head to gaze at the stranger when he coughs a few times. “It doesn’t matter who I am; I have to follow orders. I have to call him.”

  I nod my head. “And who are you exactly?”

  “The Cleaner.”

  Chapter One

  Pyro

  I’ve never been a guy to look up to the sunlight as it sets, but here I am, on the rooftop of the family housing building smoking one with our president while the sunlight fades. I lean my crutches against the ledge and hop up to sit.

  I was hit in the femur for the second time eight months ago, and the cast has been off for four months, but the crutches are still necessary, the doc tells me. I still walk with a slight limp, and I haven’t been able to ride m’lady since the shooting.

  I’m going bat shit crazy.

  I haven’t even had a decent fuck in almost a year. When I was off drinking myself to death over Lana’s murder, my cock was fucking himself to his grave. I would love to say it was my brothers who were able to stop my excessive drinking, but it wasn’t.

  It was my cock.

  He was raw and overworked.

  I’m not an idiot.

  I know I was fucking hundreds of women to try and ease Lana from my memory.

  It didn’t work, and when my brothers truly needed me, I was there in the end.

  Raw cock and all.

  They still give me shit over leaving and being out of touch, and I wish I could care, but I don’t.

  I have so many regrets when it comes to my short time with Lana and when I look back, I can’t tell if I was indeed in love with her or if I only loved her for her pussy.

  Did I even have enough time with her to fall in love?

  I have nothing to compare.

  So yeah, I’m mentally fucked up over it all.

  Do I miss her?

  Yes.

  Do I ache with the thoughts of her?

  I think so.

  As I said, I have nothing to compare it to.

  Braxxon coughs to get my attention, and I take the joint from his fingertips. “What’s on your mind, VP?”

  “This and that.”

  He doesn’t drag it out; he only changes the subject. “How do you feel about ZZ and Storm going through the adoption process?”

  I shake my head with irritation as I throw the roach into the ashtray next to me on the ledge. “Honestly, it pisses me off. We don’t have this town safe, if anything, it’s only gotten worse.”

  “You don’t believe we can handle it?” he asks.

  I turn my attention back to the setting sun “No.”

  Braxxon makes a sound of disgust while he digs his smokes from his cut. “Explain.”

  I rip my gaze away from the sun, jump down from the ledge, and wince when the pressure zings up my leg. “Brax, brother, we can’t even permit the women to leave on their own. They’re obligated to have an escort at all times; it’s no way to live.”

  “You know how I wanted to get away from guns and most of the drug trade?” he replies.

  I take the smoke he offers, put it to my lips and light it. “Yeah.”

  He inhales and exhales. “Arizona called.”

  “And….”

  “I asked them for some temporary members.”

  I lean against the concrete wall to relieve the pressure on my leg. “Arizona is going to send us some permanent members if we don’t give away the gun and drug trade. You gotta remember, our business is their business as well.”

  “What you’re sayin’ is you’re gonna pull all the stops to get the trades goin’ again?”

  Brax stubs out his butt, turns to me, lifts his shades and nods. “This is who we are. I admit. I fucked up and let Winter get to me with what she wants,” he says with a shake of his head, “she’s my wife, she has jack shit to do with this MC. I’ve already talked to her. The money she has put into Breakneck, she’ll get back in increments.”

  “She isn’t happy?” I chuckle.

  The glare he sends me speaks volumes.

  “Who’s the transfers?”

  “Krew Condon, Fox League, Seneca Cayson.”

  I cough with a laugh. “You’re fuckin’ jokin’ me?”

  He drops his shades back to his eyes. “No.”

  “Fuck. They’re sendin’ us some of their best brothers.”

  Braxxon turns towards the setting sun, places his hands on the ledge and grips hard. “Arizona is a slow chapter. You know this.”

  “You’re not tellin’ me something,” I state.

  “I’m not,” he agrees.

  “What is it?”

  “Somethin’ for another time.”

  “Alright then, so what’s goin’ on with the adoption process for ZZ?” I ask to change topics.

  Braxxon drops his head
with a shake and white knuckles the ledge. “It’s happenin’.”

  “Do they know when?”

  “Next couple of weeks.”

  “Who in their right mind would let one us adopt a child?” I question with disbelief.

  “It’s a private adoption. A fifteen-year-old girl who isn’t ready to be a mom.”

  “Baby Lana and now a new baby. That’s the hurry then.” I nod.

  He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, so I know whatever he is about to tell me is going to irritate the shit out of me.

  I wait for a beat and motion with my head for him to go on.

  “The Red Ladies are coming in to help. You’re on watch duty with Salt for the next two days.”

  I bend over with a grunt to snatch up my crutches. “At least it’s Salt, she’s mellow and not as fuckin’ crazy as Lucy.”

  Braxxon chuckles. “I best get back to Winter and Lana. She’s cuttin’ teeth. Drivin’ Winter mad.”

  I smirk as I crutch my way over to the rooftop door. “Better go in before me. I’m slow as fuck on these things.”

  “Right.”

  Chapter Two

  Jinx

  I used to sit straight up, stiff as a board when I was at the therapist office, now I lay on the loveseat and stare at the ceiling, and what a boring ceiling it is. It’d be more calming in here if she at least had a wooden vaulted ceiling, even a textured one, but nothing about her office puts me at ease.

  It’s the exact opposite of comfort.

  Cold. Pale. Plain. Unsettling.

  For the first few months, I listened as she droned on about not being the only victim; I’m not alone in my suffering, blah, blah, blah.

  In the beginning, I was angry at myself for not being a stronger woman and fighting back more than I did.

  Piper would provoke them so they would violate her instead of me.

  I will forever owe her my gratitude.

  I twirl one of my red curls around my pointer finger while I wait for my session to end. I have half an hour left, and then it’s off to self-defense lessons. I don't know which brother my escort will be until I open the door to leave her office.

  I hope it’s Sniper.

  He’s been through it all.

  Twice.

  I wish I could be as strong as Piper and go on about my life as if nothing ever happened, but I panic when I try to daydream a man’s touch.

  Over the last eight months, I’ve had to adjust to my new life.

  I figured I would be angry about what happened to me, but I wasn’t.

  I’m at peace with some of it.

  All but the touching.

  I knew Breakneck MC own and operated Club Sated when I went in for my interview, and deep down I knew to apply for a job there, the danger was a risk. It came only minutes after leaving my interview, but as I said, I can’t be angry at them for it.

  The ones to blame for what happened to Piper and me are all currently dead, or so the patched members have told me.

  She’s still prattling along while I’m all up in my head, and I’m still twirling one of my long curls around my finger as the clock ticks on by, all the while she knows I’m not paying her the slightest attention.

  I haven’t for a few months now.

  She expects it, I suppose.

  I don’t believe I’m damaged or tainted deep down.

  The only reason I’m still even in these sessions is that Braxxon, the Breakneck president, ordered it, and what he says goes.

  Did I require psychological help in the beginning?

  Yes, I’m not ignorant.

  I believe I was violated in a way a woman should never be, and I know deep down inside of my soul, I’ll get my normal back.

  I guess, in the end, she hasn’t been as useless as I make her out to be.

  I snap out of my thoughts when she mentions my homework assignment and a word I’m sure I misheard.

  Touch.

  Her saying the word ‘touch’ has my body flinging upwards on the loveseat with a heated glare directed towards her.

  “You’re not serious?”

  I watch as she closes her notepad and places it on the small table beside her. “I am.”

  “You realize who pays you, right?” I ask.

  “I do.”

  What is with therapist’s and their short freaking answers?

  “So, you know I’m around a bunch of rough necks almost every minute of the day, and you expect me to touch one of them?”

  “In a friendly manner of course,” she confirms.

  “Oh, sure, because they’re a bunch of friendly freaking teddy bears!”

  “You’ll do it,” she says, a matter of fact.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you won’t allow yourself to fail at anything, even this.”

  “It’s a wonder how you even have a practice,” I murmur.

  “Excuse me?”

  I sigh, feeling horrible. “I’m sorry. I don’t see the point in the homework assignment. I’m not ready to be physical with a man, in any way, what so ever.”

  “You’re ready.”

  I lean back in the loveseat. “I’m telling you, I’m not.”

  She turns her head towards her clock and stands. “Time’s up.”

  Thank goodness.

  “I’m not doing it.”

  “You will.”

  There’s no use in arguing with her as I walk with her to the discrete door.

  “Same time never,” I say dryly.

  “Jinx, you're hostile, not at all your character.”

  I say nothing as I walk out and hear the small click of her door as it shuts behind me. I head down the narrow hallway to see who my chauffer is, earlier it was Smokey. I adore him, he has a gentle, quiet way about him, and he never forces me into useless conversation.

  Sniper.

  Good.

  He is also gentle with me; he’s used to mine and Piper’s random moments together.

  His head turns in my direction as he hears me approach. “Rough session, eh,” he says as he stands up and fingers his keys.

  “Rough homework,” I admit.

  “You need to talk with Piper?”

  Sniper is so in tune with the both of us, and what we require to get our minds back on track, the unease from my session slowly fades away. “Please. Where is she?”

  “She got a heads up this mornin’ from the quack inside,” he motions down the hall, “she’s waiting for you in the courtyard at HQ, you can skip self-defense lessons today.”

  I signed a waiver for Piper to receive information about my sessions, so it doesn’t come as a surprise she’s already waiting for me.

  “Thank you; I’m drained.”

  “I know, darlin’.” He nods for me to follow him out of the building to the SUV, he never rides his motorcycle when he’s chauffeuring me around.

  As we ride to the headquarters, my leg bounces up and down, and when I feel Sniper’s gaze go to my antsy leg, I stop. “I’m sorry.”

  “Is there anythin’ I can help you digest? I’m a good ear, darlin’.”

  I chew on my lip as I shake my head with a quick no. “I appreciate it though. Honestly, I do.”

  “The offer always stands,” he says, with his trademark smile. “Maybe you need to open up to Storm a little more as well. You know she has a background like yours and Piper’s, and hell, even Winter, too.”

  I’m close with all the women in the Breakneck World, but most of all, Piper. What we went through together, what she did for me down in that basement, I’ll never be able to repay her.

  “I know… I don’t believe I can explain it though, Sniper. What Piper did for me, it bonded us for life,” I say, as a single tear falls from my right eye. “And Winter lets me run the paperwork for the clubs and her finances. Those jobs alone help keep my mind busy, and I don’t want to push myself more into your y’all’s life even further.”

  Sniper immediately pulls the SUV off to the side of t
he road, turns and looks at me, raises his sunglasses to the top of his head, and shows me his soft gray eyes. “Jinx, you’re family now. We blame ourselves for what happened to you and Piper, we should have protected you two better, and we didn’t,” he says, while a frown lines his forehead, “believe me darlin’, it eats us up from the inside out. We will always be your family, and we will continue taking care of you. You’re not an inconvenience to anyone, you’re quiet, you give us no grief, and you have the purist, most forgiving soul I have ever had the pleasure of knowin’.” Sniper finishes, and turns back around, pulling the SUV back onto the road. “Piper is waitin’ on ya; we best get movin’.”

  “Thank you, Sniper.”

  “Anytime, darlin’, and I mean it.”

  A few minutes later we’re pulling up to the entrance of Breakneck, and when the guard gate opens, there is Piper, tapping her foot with her arms wrapped securely around her chest near the picnic tables.

  Sniper pulls the SUV into a parking spot, and I jump out as soon as he has the vehicle in park.

  Piper is at my side before I even have the passenger side door closed, she loops her arm through mine, and we walk across the parking lot into the housing building, through the living space, and out to the courtyard. She didn’t even give Sniper a hello, a kiss, or a wave. I was her mission, I’ve never had a best friend before, but she’s the closest I’ve ever had to one.

  She leads me to the swing set Winter had installed for when baby Lana is old enough, and when they invite other chapters over with their families for special occasions. We still haven’t had one of those; it’s too dangerous to bring in more family.

  “Sit, Jinx. Swing with me,” she orders. “I know what she wants you to do. Tell me how it makes you truly feel, not the fake bullshit you feed her. Give me the truth; it’s only you and me out here.”

  I take a seat on one of the swings, and she takes the other one as I grip the chains and use my feet to swing myself back and forth. “She wants me to touch a male.”

  “And you’re not ready for it?” she asks.

  I grip the chains in my hands harder to where I can feel them bite into my palms. “No. The therapist said it could be a friendly touch, a hug, something small.”