CHAPTER THREE
TARA
The only thing worse than having caught your boyfriend cheating on you is seeing the evidence of it splashed over social media.
Notification after notification.
Video after video.
Tag after tag.
My phone hasn’t stopped pinging and there doesn’t seem to be any end in sight. If my mom’s Aunt Fern were still alive, she’d call this a classic case of ‘be careful what you wish for’ and tell me I manifested this nightmare by sharing too much of my life on social media.
In a quest to go viral and become the next TikTok sensation, I followed the guidelines set by the most successful content creators and posted to my socials daily. In the beginning, I posted all kinds of content and followed the hottest trends, trying to find my niche and an algorithm that liked me.
On a whim, I posted a video of me and Mark. It was a tidbit from one of our first dates, and my views skyrocketed. I thought I struck gold. I started posting less of myself, and more of us. He was a good sport about it. He never gave me a problem with making a video and took part in all the viral challenges I asked him to. When I presented the idea of a series to him, he jumped right on board and ‘ A Day In The Life Of Your Favorite High School Sweethearts’ was born.
It really took off and our popularity soared after our homecoming proposal. So much so that if I were eighteen, I’d be eligible to receive compensation from the Creator Fund on TikTok. But even if I were able to claim a piece of that pie, I’m not so sure that’s even a possibility after tonight.
I’m learning most of my followers—the ones I’ve never met—well, they actually can’t stand me and the only reason they follow me or like my stuff is because of Mark. I’ve been their bridge to the up-and-coming stud who doesn’t post much to his own socials. Their ticket to the guy behind the highlight reels all the D1 colleges are fighting over.
And then there’s the people I do know.
Fellow students and such.
They’ve spent the last couple of hours capitalizing on my heartbreak, documenting everything from Mark walking off with Claudia, to me finding him fucking her against a tree in the park. My outburst that followed has been stitched countless times, and I’ve been labeled a self-centered bitch as a result.
You tell one guy to fuck off as you found him with his pants around his ankles and his dick in another girl and suddenly, you’re the bad guy.
Someone, please, make it make sense.
It’s like everyone believes I deserved to have my boyfriend cheat on me.
A girl from the volleyball team posted a thirst trap video of Mark with a caption that read, “ Did she really think he was going to wait for her to wake up one day and decide she didn’t want to be the only virgin left in Knightdale anymore?”
The commentors all agreed he deserved someone willing to service his dick and more girls from Knightdale High decided to engage, feeding the masses on social media.
I heard she wouldn’t even blow him.
That came from a girl in my English class, and it was a total lie. I might not have been very good at it, but I did blow him. Twice and I only gagged once. Although, I hear guys like that so maybe I should consider it progress.
My mom turns her car into the compound that acts as the sacred ground of my dad’s motorcycle club. A place I consider a second home, filled with people who are family. Some through blood and others through choice. Almost all of them came running when I called my parents in hysterics last night.
And when I say hysterics, I mean I could very well be a contender for an Oscar.
They probably assumed I was in grave danger. I can only imagine what they thought then when they realized all my limbs were intact, and the reason I called my parents was because my boyfriend is a cheating pig.
I inwardly groan.
How fucking embarrassing.
“I’ll wait in the car,” I tell my mom, shrinking back against the passenger seat. I drop my sunglasses onto my nose and silently pray none of the members of my dad’s club are lurking around the lot.
“Not today, sweetheart,” mom says as she parks haphazardly across from the line of Harley’s. “Your dad called a family meeting.”
Judging by her tone, she isn’t too happy about that, which can only mean trouble is on the brink. That’s nothing new, though. These days it seems like the Satan’s Knights are always at war with someone. It’s just part of the life. When dad says we’re on lockdown, everyone hunkers down at the clubhouse while we ride out whatever shitstorm has found it’s way to the club.
By the second day I want to pull my hair out, but that’s because it interferes with my social life, and spending time with Mark. But seeing as my social life is basically non-existent now that my relationship went up in flames, this lockdown might be the perfect distraction.
I can hide away in one of the rooms and watch TikTok’s until my eyes bleed. Nothing like a good dopamine fix to make you forget your life is a dumpster fire.
“Let’s go,” my mom urges, patting my thigh.
We make our way out of the car and into the clubhouse. The second we cross the threshold my little brothers come charging at us, Nerf guns locked and loaded, foam bullets scattered all around the common area. Before Shepard can take a shot at us, my mom closes her hand around the barrel of the toy gun.
“I thought I banned these things.”
“You banned them at home,” Shep clarifies. “But since we slept here last night, and no one seems to know what to do with us, Uncle Leftie sent Capone to get us some guns. He loaded us up too.” He glances at me. “I heard dad say you broke up with Mark. Does that mean Theo can shoot him in the nuts now?”
“I wish someone would shoot him in the nuts with a real gun.”
I’d do it myself, but orange isn’t my color.
Mom takes the gun from Shep. “No one is shooting anyone in the nuts. Now get rid of these things. If we’re gonna be stuck here for days, I am not going to be dodging foam bullets.”
“Better those than real ones,” I mutter.
My mom shoots me a glare. “Really, Tara?”
I shrug. It appears my lovely mother has lost her patience with me. I can’t say I blame her; I’ve been pretty unbearable since Uncle Shady and Ghost dropped us off at the house last night. One minute I’m a puddle of tears, the next I’m on a rampage, deleting photos and throwing the sweatshirt Mark gave me out the window.
She took pity on me at first and introduced me to a song she played on repeat when she learned my dad had been with another woman. It turns out Breaking Dishes , by Rihanna is a banger for breakups.
Eventually the tears returned, and we ate our weight in dark chocolate. At some point I fell asleep, but when I woke up and checked my social media, I lost my shit, and it’s been touch and go ever since. My dad summoning us here didn’t help the situation.
Mom is perimenopausal, and I’m PMSing my way through a breakup.
We’re doomed.
Suddenly a slew of bullets wiz past my head. Theo takes cover behind the bar, and Shepard spins around like a ninja, cocking his Nerf gun on his shoulder to fire back. My gaze darts toward the assailant, and I automatically perk up when I see its Capone, the youngest member of the Satan’s Knights, and the only one who completely ignores me.
“That’s for jumping on me this morning,” he shouts, repeatedly pulling the trigger on Shepard. “And that’s for shooting me in the ass while I was in the shower.” He sends another bullet flying. “And that…that’s for shits and giggles.” He laughs manically, sending another round of foam bullets through the air. When he finally runs out of ammo and the boys plead for mercy, he pushes the protective goggles to the top of his head and puffs out his chest, raising his torpedo of a Nerf gun above his head in victory.
“Are you done, you big dope?” My mom asks, placing her hands on her hips as she sternly looks at Capone.
A startled expression fills his face as his eyes shoot to where we’re standing, and he quickly drops his gun.
“Shit. I didn’t know you were here,” he says, his gaze darting from my mom to me, then back to her. Shep takes advantage of the opportunity and blasts him right in the side of the head.
“Shep! That’s enough,” my mom shouts. “Where the hell is Maverick?”
Capone points to the chapel. “He’s in there with Leftie, Ghost, and Shady.”
It’s a known fact that when the door to the chapel is closed, no one is allowed to interrupt or enter, except my mother. Without skipping a beat, she shoves the gun under her arm and marches straight for the chapel.
“Boys, clean up this mess.” She glances over her shoulder, pinning Capone with a narrowed look. “That includes you too.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Satisfied, she turns her back to him and storms into the chapel. Shep takes off without cleaning anything, and Theo follows him.
“Hey, come back here,” Capone calls. “I’m not cleaning all this shit by myself.”
I roll my eyes behind the safety of my sunglasses. He must not have any younger siblings.
“There isn’t a shot in hell those two are coming back to clean their mess. I’ll give you a pro tip, though—grab a broom. It’s easier to sweep these little fuckers up than trying to collect them all by hand.”
He quirks an eyebrow but remains silent. Typical for him. I think I can safely count on one hand how many times he’s spoken to me. Back when I had a crush on him, it would bother me, but then I met Mark. Things got serious between us, and I forget all about the silly crush I had on a man who didn’t even acknowledge my existence.
Feeling foolish for even speaking to him, I cross my arms over my chest and stride for the hallway. I take three steps before my mom pokes her head from the entryway of the chapel. Our eyes lock but my dad is the one who calls my name, asking for me join them.
“You too, Capone,” he adds.
I peer at my mother, trying to figure out why I’m being summoned, but her poker face is firmly intact which means she’s stepped into role as the queen of the Satan’s Knights. She gives nothing away when she’s in that mode.
“After you,” Capone’s deep voice sounds, jolting me slightly. I glance over my shoulder, and there he is, towering over me, making me feel smaller than I actually am. His dark brown eyes meet mine for a fleeting second before he tips his chin toward the chapel, silently commanding me to get my ass in gear.
I spin around and make my way inside. My gaze cuts to the head of the long wooden table where my dad is seated. The gavel my mom had custom designed for him sits in front of him, right beside the ashtray that houses his favorite cigar.
He lifts his chin, his eyes softening as soon as they land on me.
“How you doing, baby?” He rasps.
I round the table, bypassing my uncle, and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. I was surprised when he didn’t come home last night, but after speaking with my mom, I realized everything that happened between Mark and I, hit a little too close to home for my parents.
“Surviving.” I turn to my uncle. “Thanks for taking me home last night.”
“You never have to thank me,” he says, eyeing me curiously. “You gonna take those glasses off so I can see your eyes?”
“Be careful what you ask for, Uncle Shady.” I pull my glasses from my face, revealing my swollen eyes. “It’s not pretty.”
“Bullshit,” my father grunts. “You’re beautiful. Puffy eyes and all.”
“I agree,” Uncle Shady says. “And it’s a helluva lot better than seeing you with tears streaming down your face.”
I shrug. “It’s still early in the day. Give it an hour before the mood swing goes into full effect.” Bringing my attention back to my dad, I watch my mom slide onto his lap. He instantly winds his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer to him.
My parents didn’t travel an easy road to get where they are today. They suffered a lot of heartache, and made some epic mistakes, but their love for one another was always obvious no matter how hard they tried to hide it. I’ve always been envious of that and the way my dad looks at her. As much as I want to believe Mark looked at me like that, he didn’t. He looked at me like I was a shiny object, one he couldn’t wait to play with, not something he couldn’t live without. I think my subconscious knew that, and maybe that’s another reason I didn’t go all the way with him.
“Here,” Uncle Shady says, interrupting my thoughts. He rises from his chair, and motions for me to take a seat. The room goes quiet, and everyone stares at me for a moment. It’s weird, and uncomfortable. I feel like I’m display.
“So are you recruiting prospects or something? Because I’m not really in the market to become a biker.” I pause when a thought pops into my head. “Wait a minute—did you finally come to your senses? Are you going to let me start a TikTok channel for the club?”
“Jesus Christ,” Capone mumbles. “Make it stop.”
My gaze snaps to him, and I narrow my eyes. I think I liked it better when he didn’t know I existed. “Excuse me?”
Leaning against the door, he crosses his arms against his chest, his chocolate brown eyes peering at me like I’m some kind of idiot.
“A TikTok channel? In case you’ve been living under a rock the last seventeen years, we’re trying to fly under the radar, not go viral.”
When he puts it like that, I feel like a giant fool. My cheeks flame and I try to think of a smart retort, but my mind goes blank.
“I…it was just a joke.” It wasn’t. BikerTok is a thing. I’m not about to share that now, though.
My dad slams his fist against the table, startling me, but when I turn to him, his eyes are lasered in on Capone, and he looks like he just might kill him.
“Watch your tone when you’re talking to my daughter,” Dad warns. “Tara’s just trying to be helpful.”
“Alright well, maybe she can put her phone down for five minutes and we can have her start filing the serial numbers off our guns then.”
I balk at him. The audacity on this guy is off the charts.
“I resent that. I’ve been here for like twenty-five minutes and I haven’t even looked at my phone once.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Dad growls.
Closing his eyes, Capone drags in a deep breath. When he opens them again, he meets my father’s glare. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t know too much about him, but I do know when a person is sincere, and Capone is totally full of shit. He isn’t sorry about anything.
“It isn’t me you need to apologize to,” Dad says before turning his attention to me. “Excuse Capone, baby. He had a long night. Babysitting your dad isn’t an easy job.”
That piques my interest. “Why was he babysitting you and not the lizard?”
“Oh, she’s got jokes,” Capone grunts. “Great.”
“The only joke here is you,” I spat.
“For fuck’s sake,” my dad mumbles. “You two are like oil and vinegar.”
“This isn’t going to work,” Mom says.
I have no idea what she means by that, but I’m losing my patience with all of them. I can’t believe I got out of bed for this. I mean I should get a pass. My boyfriend humiliated me. I should be allowed to sulk for a week. Biker enemies be damned.
“Can I please go?”
“Not so fast, sweetheart. There’s a reason I called you in here, and if you and Capone could stop bickering, I’d be happy to clue you in.”
I cross my arms against my chest and slink back in the chair.
“I’m listening.”
“Things with the club have taken a turn, and I’ve made the decision to put everyone in the family on a soft lockdown. Leftie and Wiz will be tailing mom and the boys, and Capone will be your shadow until I say otherwise.”
My eyes blow wide. “You’re kidding me, right?” I look from him to my mother, then my uncle. When no one speaks up, I glare at my dad. “He is not following me around. Are you trying to ruin my life?”
“That’s a bit dramatic, Tara,” Mom says. “Dad is trying to keep everyone safe. You’re old enough to know the drill by now.”
“Um…yeah, I’m familiar with the drill when it entails all of us hunkering down here for days on end. After last night, I’m the laughingstock of this godforsaken town and now you want him to be my babysitter. Are you kidding me? I rather crawl under a rock and die.”
My dad sighs.
“Tara, it’s temporary. You won’t even know he’s there.”
Those sound like some famous last words, and I’m calling bullshit.