Sinner’s Redemption by Rebecca Joyce

Chapter Six


“You are going to be late!”

“Jeez, yell louder, Tia. I don’t think they heard you in Canada,” I groaned, grabbing my purse and coat.

I was late. Not that I cared because York was teething, and I didn’t want to leave him until I settled him. I hated being away from him at night. I tried everything I could. Called in every favor I had, but to no avail. Not one hospital in the city would hire me. To make matters worse, I tried the New Jersey area and was told the same thing. The closest hospital that would even consider me for employment was in Philadelphia.

Eventually, I was going to have to do some serious thinking because I refused to let my medical degree go to waste. I spent way too much time on my education to piss it all away and as much as I loved Barney, my mother would haunt me until I died if I continued to be a waitress much longer.

Though the money was good, it paled in what I would make as a general surgeon.

“There is cab fare on the kitchen counter!”

Smiling, I reached for it. “Thanks, Tia.”

“No problems, Tess. Have fun tonight.”

Shaking my head, I left the penthouse and quickly hailed a cab. Maybe if I begged the driver, he could run every red light and get me to work on time. Not that I was in a hurry. I had forgotten how sore I was after working shifts at the Gentlemen’s club. I loved Barney, I really did, but waiting on drunk businessmen was killing my feet and lower back.

Beggars couldn’t be picky.

I was grateful that Barney let me have my old job back and the money I made was more than enough to provide for myself and York. I was even able to save a portion of it. Hopefully soon, I would have enough to find an apartment of my own. While I loved living with Tia and really appreciated that she helped me out with York, I needed my own place. It felt wrong to stay in that beautiful penthouse without paying rent or utilities, even though Tia told me it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate Tia and everything she’d done. It was that the longer I stayed in this city, the faster he would find me. It had already been two months of looking over my shoulder, double checking every male that looked remotely like him. I couldn’t do it anymore. My nerves couldn’t take it. I was losing sleep and my anxiety was at an all-time high. No. The quicker I could save the money, the faster I could get myself and York out of this city.

After giving the cabbie his fare, I rushed into the building, ignoring the looks of some of the girls.

Yeah, I got it.

They hated me.

What else was new?

Making my way to my locker, I quickly stowed my purse and grabbed my apron. Donning it, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and slammed my locker shut to find Stacie glaring at me from the door.

“Must be nice showing up whenever you want while the rest of work our asses off covering your tables.”

Stacie was a bitch.

Plain and simple.

Young, and pretty, like all the other girls that worked for Barney, Stacie was a junior at NYU, studying economics. A daughter of a well-off family from some shit hole in Iowa, Stacie’s sole ambition wasn’t to graduate and make a name for herself. Nope. This bitch wanted one thing, and one thing only. A Soulless Sinner brother.

Known around most of the campuses in the greater New York City area, Barney’s club catered to the Soulless Sinner M.C. Their parties were legendary and everyone who was anyone wanted an invitation. But for the girls that worked for Barney, well, all they had to do was sign-up and agree to sign an NDA before attending. The rules were simple. Befriend a brother for an undisclosed determined of time and when that time was up, the brother would make a sizable donation into the girls’ college fund.

No muss. No fuss.

The snag? The girls had to have a 4.0 GPA to attend.

The Soulless Sinners didn’t want some ditzy, money-hungry piece. They wanted educated and driven girls who were only looking for a good time. When their time was up, they split ways happily.

From my understanding, Stacie still hadn’t received her invitation.

“Is the club so slow, you have time to stand here busting my chops, or is there something else I can help you with?”

“You think you are so fucking special, Tess? With your college degree and all. But look at you. Still working for Barney. Rumor is no hospital will hire you. What did you do, Tess? Fuck the wrong man?”

If she only knew.

I’ve dealt with women like Stacie my whole life. Girls who thought they were better than me, smarter than me, prettier than me. They were all the same shallow, selfish, hateful cunts and would never change. Women like Stacie believed society owed them something in life and that they deserved money and riches but refused to work for it. Nope, women like Stacie believed that what was between their legs would take them to the promise land.

Refusing to dignify her with a response, I walked past her and headed for the main room and got to work.

It was going to be a long shift.

My feet were killing me when I finally sat on the bench before my locker, too tired to move. My whole body ached. I was getting too old for this shit. I really needed to find a normal job. Someplace where men didn’t grab my ass or chest or worse, try to get down my pants. For such high-profile customers, it felt as if Barney catered to the sick and perverted men of New York City.

Taking off my apron, I counted my tips for the night, pleased when I counted out close to a thousand dollars. Not bad for one night of work, even if I had to swallow my tongue half the night. Putting my tips in my wallet, I was about to stand and close my locker when I felt a sliver of something. Almost like a hair’s breadth brush across my skin, causing the skin on the back of my neck to rise and my heart to pick up.

I was no longer alone.

He was here.

I knew it.

I knew it was inevitable.

There was no way I could be in this city without him knowing, but I never thought he would seek me out. The rules were perfectly clear. Refusing to move, I waited for him to make the first move. When nothing happened, I opened my eyes and turned around to find only dark shadows lurking in the corner.

I was alone.

Standing, I looked around, still feeling as if someone was watching me.

“Jesus Tess, stop imagining shit. You’re just tired,” I muttered, throwing my apron in my locker before closing it. Grabbing my purse, I left the locker room and headed for the main entrance. The club was closed and other than Barney and the bartender, Jonathon, I was the only one there.

Passing the women’s restrooms, a hand covered my mouth, pulling me back against a hard, muscular chest. The scent of wild musk and evergreen filled my nose as his hot peppermint breath blew against my neck. A low growl vibrated, sending tendrils of fear coursing into my body as his right hand moved down my chest to cup my breast. His fingers finding my hardened nipple and pinched, eliciting a moan from me.

Standing stock still, I dare not move as his hand roamed down from my breast, past my stomach, before dipping into my pants to cup my wet pussy.

One touch.

That’s all it took, and I was wet for him. Even after all these years, he still had the uncanny ability to wake what was dead inside me. One touch was all it took.

Closing my eyes, I tried not to react to his long, thick fingers as he inserted one into my wet cunt while his thumb rubbed my clit. And that was all it took. No man ever came close to the bastard, eliciting my own desire from me. It had been so long since he touched me like this, I knew it wouldn’t last long. It never did. The man could whisper the daily stock prices in my ear, and I would cum on the spot. Hard wired to his touch, my body betrayed me and when he inserted two fingers into my pussy and pinched my clit, I bit down on his hand, covering my mouth to stem the scream I so desperately wanted to expel. Shaking and panting from the fast orgasm he gave me, I said nothing as he removed his hand and brought his fingers to his mouth. The sucking sound as he licked my juices off his fingers aroused me, making my pussy ache for more.

“Give me a reason not to snap your neck, bitch.”

“Montana,please,” I whispered his name, as he bit down on my neck, causing me to whimper. This was not going to end well for me. I knew I should’ve never come back here. Part of me knew he would never just let me walk away. When he didn’t come after me two years ago, I thought he moved on and I was in the clear.

Stupidly, I was wrong.

I should have known that Montana Stone never walked away from anything or anyone that belonged to him and, as much as I hated to admit it, I belonged to him.

The brand on my back said so.

“That was a rhetorical question, bitch.”

“Please, I need to get home.”

“To my son? I agree, but first you are coming with me.”

Before I could even utter a word, he had his hand shackled to my wrist and was pulling me out the back door of the club, where I found his bike waiting.

Pulling me behind him, I dare not say anything else. I was still trying to process the fact he knew about York. How, was a mystery, but that fact that he knew meant my ass was in big trouble. There were a lot of things I loved about Montana, but his temper wasn’t one of them. Once off the leash, Montana became someone everyone avoided, including me. I’d only seen him lose his temper a few times, but never on my account. Just seeing him lose control was enough for me to know I never wanted to be on the receiving end.

“Get the fuck on.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. Throwing my leg over his bike, I wrapped my arms around his waist and scooted close as he peeled out of the alley behind Barney’s. A deep rumble within his chest told me just how pissed he was. Sighing, I held on tight because I knew this ride wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

Holding him tightly, I watched as the city sped by in a blur of lights. I loved everything about this city. The excitement, the beauty and even the danger of it. I had a lot of firsts in this city. My first subway ride, cab ride, my first baseball game, even my first concert. I’ve met people from all over the world and even one from my home state. I’ve eaten food from around the world, never leaving my small apartment when I attended school here.

I’ve seen the beauty the city offers and even the parts the city wanted to keep hidden. During the day, the city was abuzz with millions of people just going about their business, but at night, well, that was when real New Yorkers came out to play. The clubs, bars and restaurants catered to a plethora of individuals from all walks of life. Have a particular fancy, a delicious perversion? As soon as the sun went down, all anyone had to do was look in the right place and their select delicacies were served.

And most of it, he showed me.

I should have known he would find me. This was Montana Stone, after all. He wasn’t some typical nine-to-five guy. Montana was more. More of everything. Bigger than the highest skyscraper and stronger than any man I’d ever met and for a while, he was my everything.

Then he wasn’t.

I knew the rules. He made them very clear. But one thing he failed to factor in was my love for my mother. I knew what I was doing when I left that night. It was a simple decision on my part. What I didn’t count on was what I was taking with me. When I realized my situation, I knew I could never tell him. If I did, there would be no place I could hide. Then there was the fact that I was on the shot and he never, not once, failed to wear a condom. But I knew York was his because there was never anyone else.

Watching the city fly by, I realized he wasn’t heading for the docks where the clubhouse was at. Instead, he was riding deeper into the heart of Manhattan. Quickly looking over my shoulder again, I noticed we were alone. There were no bikes following. I thought that odd because when Montana rode, he always had two brothers with him.


My arms tightened as the bike slowed, then turned into a drive that dipped below a large three-story corner building. I had no idea where we were or what we were doing here. I just assumed he would take me back to the clubhouse.

Guess I thought wrong.

Still holding on, I stayed seated even after he parked. Even when he killed the engine and sat up, my arms still held tight.

I don’t know what I expected, but when he lightly patted my hands, I finally released him and got off the bike.

Looking around the garage, I saw several fancy cars and a few high-powered ones that I itched to drive. When he removed his helmet, I tried to brace myself at finally seeing him again after these last few years, but nothing could have prepared me for the raging fire burning deep in his eyes.

Oh yeah.

Anger rolled off him in waves.

Gulping, I asked, “Where are we?”

“My house.”

Okay, that was something I didn’t know about him. I thought he lived in the clubhouse. He was the president of the club, for crying out loud. Never pegged Montana for fancy digs. It just wasn’t him. As a simple country girl, I felt more comfortable at the clubhouse than I would in some fancy place like this. I didn’t even need to see the inside of this place to know I didn’t belong. The cars alone told me that. I could work my entire life and never be able to afford anything like this.

I didn’t know what game Montana was playing, but I didn’t like it.

“Follow,” he ordered.

Not asked.

Ordered, as if I were some dog he owned.

Shaking my head, I stood firm. “No. I want to leave.”

He stared menacingly. “Wasn’t a choice.”

“Have you forgotten? I always have a choice.”

“Not anymore,” he growled, grabbing my wrist again, yanking me towards a door.

“Damn it, Montana, let me go!” I shouted angrily, trying to break his hold. But like everything else about him, his grip was impenetrable.

Pulling me up a flight of stairs, he finally let go when we entered the kitchen. An enormous, bright and expensive kitchen. A kitchen that I’d only seen on TV and belonging to the rich and famous. I don’t know why I did it. Maybe it was because of the way my momma raised me, but seeing the sparkling white floors, I quickly kicked off my shoes, not wanting to track dirt across them.

“Thank you, my dear,” an older woman with a kind smile said, walking over to me. “I’m Mrs. Alice and you must be Ms. Tessa.”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you.”

The women beamed. “Oh, she’s darling Montana, and manners, too.”

Montana huffed, ignoring the sweet older woman as he headed for the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water, throwing me one.

I quickly caught it and whispered, “Thank you.”

“Everything ready?” Montana asked.


“Then that will be all, Mrs. Alice. Good night.”

“Good night, my dears,” the woman said quickly, before leaving me alone with him.

Too afraid to move, I watched as he leaned against the kitchen counter, never taking his eyes off me. I felt as if I was under a microscope. I did not know why I was here or what he wanted. Okay, I knew why, but I refused to think about that because if I did, then I would have to explain why I never told him I kept his son from him. Nope, that was a question I didn’t want to answer. Not because I couldn’t but because it would mean opening old wounds that I longed to be buried.

Looking about the spacious kitchen, I thought it odd that he seemed out of place, but as if he belonged.

Shuffling from leg to leg, I didn’t know what to do.

I wanted to sit down because my feet were killing me. Working eight hours on my feet, waiting tables for drunk millionaires was taxing, to say the least. So, when my shift was over, I generally rushed home and soaked in a hot bath before climbing into bed. Only I didn’t see that happening tonight.

Eyeing the stool near the counter, I wanted to sit, but didn’t. He hadn’t invited me to, and it was rude to do so without an invitation. Instead, I stayed right where I was and tried to ignore the ache in my lower back and my throbbing feet.

He growled, “Sit down before you fall down, Tessa.”

Quickly moving over to one of the high-back chairs that lined the marble island, I sat and moaned in instant relief. “Thank you.”

“We need to talk.”

“Worst conversation starter ever, ‘we need to talk’.”

“Don’t get lippy with me, Tessa. I’m not in the mood.”

“Fine. What do we need to talk about?”

“For starters, tell me why you left?”

“Why do I get the feeling you already know?” I replied, looking down at the water bottle I had yet to open. Twirling it in my hands, I waited for his response. I knew I was right. He wouldn’t have shown up unless he knew everything already. Which explained him knowing about York. I wasn’t stupid, and I was in no mood to play games with him tonight. I was exhausted, hungry and desperately wanted to sleep.

“I want to hear it from your own lips.”

Stubborn asshole.

I fucking knew I wasn’t leaving this kitchen until I told him everything he wanted to know. Every boring, insignificant, heartbreaking detail. The good and all the bad. He was going to make me relive my worst moments in the last few years until he had his fill. When I finally finished, I looked down at the three empty bottles of water that now sat before me.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Nope,” I muttered, popping the ‘p,’ for emphasis. “You were clear on the rules. I broke them when I left without a word. Knew you’d never talk to me again, so I didn’t bother even trying.”

“Yet you reached out to Barney.”

“I wasn’t going to, but I needed a job.”

“Who is watching, my son?”

“My friend Tia. We grew up together.”


“She bought a penthouse near Central Park West. We’ve been living with her.”

“Where?” he growled, stepping away from the counter. Flinching, I quickly spouted off the address as he typed something into his cellphone.

“Is he mine?”

I narrowed my eyes at the bastard.

“What the fuck are you insinuating, Montana?”

“Is he mine!”

“Yes, you egotistical bastard. He’s yours.” As soon as the words left my mouth, a light flickered in his steel-gray eyes, then vanished. Leaning back against the counter, he stated the obvious. “You were on the shot.”

“Yes, I was.”

“I always wrapped up.”

“Yes, you did.”


“How what, Montana? How fate fucked us in the ass? That nothing we did was going to stop her from screwing up our lives? Hell, I don’t know. Condoms are only ninety-eight perfect effective and the shot, well that’s only compromised when taking antibiotics. Oh, shit.”

Reality hit me like a freight train, and I cursed.

I’d been sick as a dog back then. I caught a nasty bug. The doctor put me on a regime of antibiotics for two weeks. Montana never left my side, and I remember being miserable during that time.

“You were getting over the flu.”

“Damn it,” I muttered, getting to my feet. “Look Montana, I never planned this. I was finishing up my residency program. Having a baby wasn’t even in my realm of comprehension. I know you never wanted kids. So, I am going to raise York by myself. Now, since the interrogation is over, may I use your phone to call a cab?”

He shook his head and stared directly at me menacingly as the hairs on the back of my neck rose again.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?” I gasped.

“The rules just changed, babe.”