Chapter 1 V Series
My current Dark MC Romance WIP. Feed back welcome!
I am a Courier.
Trusted to carry information and other items between outlaw motorcycle clubs. Known by the small, gold, winged shoe patch above my handle.
And I am going to die tonight.
| M: You sure she'll get there on time?
| R: She's reliable No issues
| M: Contact when done
Ven
"Fuck me, it's 3 in the damn morning what do you want?"
I managed through my yawn. This better be fucking good.
"Well good morning to you too sunshine!"
Chirps the too excited for this early in the morning voice.
"Dammit Mercury, I just got to sleep. So tell me before I decide to make you tell me."
Not that there was much I could do over the phone...
"Got a job for you. Pays triple and you're the closest one. It's urgent".
"Fuck your urgent shit Merc."
I heard him sigh.
"You're my only option right now. Do it for me. Please? Please?"
Rubbing my face, triple could be worth it.
"Triple huh? How far?"
"Under 700. 15k total"
Trying to entice me now.
"Can I count on you? Please?" The tone in his voice guilting me into accepting this drop.
"Fine" I grumble.
"Send me the details. And you owe me a coffee you asshole."
Hanging up on my boss, I drop the phone on the bed. Laying there for a few more minutes, I stared at the dingy hotel ceiling. They were all the same. Dirty white, with no memorable characteristics. The same light fixtures, the same old alarm clocks.
Ding!
Mercury sent you $10 with a comment...'You kiss your mother with that mouth? Enjoy your coffee.'
Jokes on him. My mother's dead. I was happy she was. She would lose her shit if she knew what I was doing. She always thought it was crazy to ride motorcycles. Her mind was full of fiery crashes and burnt out bikes flaming in ditches on the side of the road. Or tattooed outlaws riding into towns like the villains gang in the old westerns.
Well... that part, she got right. Or at least the outlaw part.
Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I throw the covers aside. The cold air hits me and I shiver. Weather's coming in. Everything hurts. Weather always makes me hurt anymore. Rain was the worst. There was something about how the moisture seeps into my bones that makes it a unique kind of shitty.
Letting the hot water of the shower wash away whatever I did last night, and loosen my muscles, I groaned. Dragging myself from the heat, my reflection met me in the mirror. Eyes sunken, blond roots showing under the black. Scars that mocked me. Taunting me for not dying when I had the chance.