Exquisite Redemption (Iron Horse MC Book 3) Read Online Free Page A

ways this song both heals and torments me, reminding me of the one and only time I’ve ever done heroine, when I was sixteen. I didn’t even know what it was, thought I was just doing another line of coke with my mom while we were at some high rollers party at a casino in Reno. Instead I’d spent the next four hours sitting on a couch in blissful numbness while the world seemed to move at hyperspeed around me.
    Morrie, my thirty-year-old lover, had been super pissed my mom had given me that shit, but she’d claimed she didn’t know and he’d made me promise never to do it again. Considering I thought I was deeply in love with him at the time, I’d promised and had never touched heroin again. Too bad no one warned me away from him , because he was far more addictive and dangerous than any drug.
    My legs burned and it removed me from the poisonous hold of my memories, reminding me that at this moment, I was alive and it felt amazing.
    The steady tempo in the song guides my movements, drawing me further into the moment, taking me away from my worries as surely as any drug ever had. Holding on to the pole with my good leg, I arched back and moved my arms with the beat, my stomach muscles aching as I began to whip my head back and forth, letting the song guide me. When I reached the midpoint of the pole I began to spin again, not fast, but slow and graceful as a butterfly. The song began to wind down and I slowly returned to reality, the pain of my body exerting itself to the point of collapse, clearing the music from my mind as I finally reached the hard wood of the stage.
    My breath is burned my lungs, but I can’t help but smile as the crowd’s adoration washes over me, filling me with a sense of belonging, of being loved. False though it may be, I drink it in and try to fill the hollow emptiness inside of me that never really goes away, the space that should have been filled with my mother’s love.
    With trembling legs, I strode to the center of the stage and smiled, giving the crowd a practiced, perfect wave I’d learned from hours of rehearsal with my pageant coach back when my mom had been convinced she could make me the next Miss America.
    Bet the bitch never thought I’d be using those skills to win over a crowd of bikers.
    The lights blind me to how many people were out there, but the roaring wave of their cheers washes over me, making the hair on my arms stand on end. This was the last time I’d be on a stage like this, the last night for me to be wild, before I finally got to start the next phase of my life as a responsible adult. I was going to have a new life somewhere they’d never heard of Billie Waylan—or whatever the hell she was calling herself now—and where I could begin to live a normal, respectable life along with a normal, respectable man.
    That meant this was my final night of partying with abandon before I needed to buckle down and get serious. What better place to find a fantastic, dirty, awesome one-night stand than a biker rally?
    With this in mind, I left the stage with the roar of the crowd moving over me like a caress. Pulling out my earplugs once we were far enough away from the speakers, I tried to graciously nod and smile at the people backstage, reminding myself I’m lucky to be here and it won’t kill me to take a second to make someone happy by saying a word or two.
    As soon as I reach out, my assistant, Marley, is there with a big, fluffy white robe and a melancholy smile. We’d had a lot of fun during the last few months of my publicity tour for both Playboy and as a pole dancing champ. Without her organizational skills, I’d be fucked six ways to Sunday trying to keep track of everything. I’m not good at remembering things, my mind is too overactive, like a squirrel on those nasty orange candy Circus Peanuts, and I needed someone to help me stay focused. Thankfully, Marley was everything I’m not—mellow, quiet, and boasting a freakish ability to multitask. She lived