The Biker's Love

Prologue

*****This will be in third person! However, the rest of the story will be in first! Didn't want to confuse anyone! Hope you enjoy...*******

Harper Smith took in a deep breath as she pushed her vanity against her white, oak door. "Harper Lynn, open the door!" Her father screamed punching the already splintering wood with his bruised fist. She wanted to curl up in a ball and die when he was like this, he seemed to get worse everyday now. It first happened after her mother died, he came home drunk off his ass and angry at her for something she didn't understand. At eleven years old she wasn't sure why her once kind father hated her and bruised her arms. She wore long sleeves to school the next day which caused attention by none other then Pierce Cole. Just his name made her heart skip a beat, he was her best friend in school and, if she were honest, her first love. She can still remember when he walked right up to her at lunch and sat down. He didn't move to pull up her sleeves but he just sat, eating the sandwich his mother packed for him. He walked her home that day, asked if she wanted him to stay but the truth was she didn't want anyone to see the way her father was when he got home. Now at eighteen, Harper got good at locking herself in her room until he passed out. But tonight was different, he came home earlier then he usually did and grabbed her wrist so tight that she could hear it snap. The only way she was able to push the vanity in time was the fact that he tripped over the glass coffee table. She made it in her room and used her shoulders to push the heavy white object in the way of his path to her. She hurriedly grabbed the duffel she pack for nights like this and stepped out of her window to the tree next to her bedroom window. It was tricky to climb down using only one hand but had she fallen and broken her neck it would've been an upside to her life so far. Once on the ground she walked towards town where she knew The Hellhounds MC clubhouse stood, a party already in full swing by the time she arrived. She threw her bag up on the ledge of the roof, using her good hand to climb up the ladder outside Pierce's window. He always left it open for her and tonight was no different, she threw her bag in then climbed in quickly, closing the window behind her. She knew he was downstairs but didn't care, well she did a lot but it wasn't what was on her mind right now. She pulled her shirt over her head, squeaking at the strain it put on her broken wrist. She carefully undid her jeans, pain shooting up her arm as she tried to undo them. She grabbed one of Pierce's shirts from off the floor and pulled it over her head, inhaling his unique scent that instantly made her feel safe. She knew he never brought girls up here because of her, so she settled in between his clean sheets and fell asleep, tears staining her bruised cheek.

*************

Pierce Cole woke with a splitting headache and groaned, rolling off the couch in the clubhouse. He smelled like booze and sex, something that became a habit now that he was no longer a prospect for The Hellhounds MC. He gathered his clothes then made the exhausting trip up the stairs to his room here at the clubhouse. When he opened the door he noticed the sleeping figure of Harper Smith curled up in his bed. Her raven black hair sprawled around her on his white pillows, the sheet riding down her thighs as she switched to the other side. She was gorgeous, something pure that he couldn't dream of having. Her lemon scent wrapped around him like a cocoon, making his heart beat faster. A fresh bruise stained her rosy cheek and his anger grew, knowing exactly who had hurt her again. As she moved to the other side she squeaked in pain, jolting awake, and holding her wrist. "Shit..." She groaned and Pierce walked over, taking her delicate, bruised and broken wrist into his calloused hands.

"That bastard," he growled, hating that she would leave and go back to the motherfucker who hurt her. "I'm gonna kill him." He stood to do just that but she intertwined her fingers with his, preventing him from doing exactly what he said he'd do.

"Please, don't," she whispered softly, her whole body shaking as small tears fell, breaking what was left of his heart. She was the only person, besides his mother, that could bring out the soft side of him. He dropped to the bed, scooping her up in his arms as she cried, something that seemed to be a routine for them. After a while she seemed to settle, although he never let her go, loving how well she fit in his arms. "You smell." She chuckled and just like that the mood lifted, he smiled back, placing a small tentative kiss on the top of her head.