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Broken Measures

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This is the story of Kelsi, a broken country girl and Gearhead, a dented Irish guy, and how they fought for each other until the very end... Kelsi found the club in a time of need, or to be more accurate, the club found her in a time of need when she had no one and nowhere to go, they pulled her back off the ledge. Gearhead is a Soldier in the Celtic Kingsmen MC like his father before him. He's one of the few members that are originally from the homeland across the sea, and even though he's still finding his place, Kelsi strikes something in him that he doesn't know what to do with. And somehow, their brokenness meshes together.

Drama / Romance
Bryce Blackburn
4.7 35 reviews
Age Rating:

Jumper vs Gearhead

I sobbed, trudging down the sidewalk. I was heading for Wilkinson Bridge at the end of Fourth Street Hill. I could feel the eyes of passerby as they heard my tears choke out of my throat, but no one stopped to ask if I was alright, nobody stopped to comfort me, so I kept moving. I didn’t need comfort. I was tired of pity.

The bridge sat at the bottom of Fourth Street Hill. After the bridge, the road made a hard left and became Old Rim Rock Way, winding out into the countryside. Not very many people came out here past the top of Fourth Street, as there were no other roads and not many people lived out this far.

That’s why the bridge was perfect. It was almost fifty feet from the water, which wasn’t enough to do any real damage, but it was the time of year that the river below was low enough you could see the rocks through the water.

Looking down at the water made my heart speed up and my brain screamed at me that this was a bad idea. But I remembered my reason for coming. I reached up to touch my cheek, feeling the long cut that wasn’t even an hour old. It’d come from my fiancé’s ring as he backhanded me. I told him if he hit me again, I’d kill myself. He’d told me to go ahead; he’d go sleep with that hooker at the bar in town instead then.

He didn’t look shocked like I’d hoped as I stormed from the house. He’d called over his shoulder from the couch as I made my way out of the house, telling me he hoped my death was slow and painful. I’d cried all the way here; almost five miles. But now my tears had run dry. It felt like liquid plastic on my cheeks where the tears had dried up.

I glanced up and down the road, wondering if anyone would cross my path out here in the middle of nowhere. The sun was setting as I turned to look back at the rocks below. They were sharp and smooth, being beaten down by years of wear from the river. I remembered the last person who jumped out here.

His name had been Bobby Jefferson. He’d been a senior in high school at the time. He jumped because he was being bullied at school. He was a year older than me. He’d jumped and broken his spine. Bobby had pretty much become a vegetable. He couldn’t feed himself or go to the bathroom himself. He had to have around the clock care provided for him.

I shook my head, considering Bobby. If it had been my kid, I’d have asked someone to put him down. That wasn’t a life. He’d been unhappy before. What made anybody think Bobby was happy being spoon-fed apple sauce at the age of twenty-seven? Nobody would be happy with that. His parents had been selfish for letting him continue on that way.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up, trying to find a place to crawl up on the railing. I grabbed part of the metal structure that jutted out from the side a little to deter people from driving too close. It took more effort than I would have thought, but I sat on the edge of the railing for a moment, my feet dangling over the side of it. I watched the water move around the rocks and wondered what it would look like as the water made its way around my body.

I took hold of the metal side, pulling myself to my feet on the railing. Another five feet would help, right? There was a noise somewhere behind me, but I shook out my shoulders. I could hear the water rushing below me and that was all that mattered. I took a deep breath, trying to make myself step away from the railing.

“You can do this, Kelsi. Don’t be a pussy ass bitch. You made a promise. You keep your promises.” I muttered to myself with a nod of my head. My pep talk distracted me enough that my feet moved forward on their own as my hand let go of the railing.

I only fell a few feet before there was a hand on my arm, catching me. Panic flooded my system. Of all the times for someone to reach out and help, it had to be this time? No. I thrashed against whoever had my hand, trying to wiggle out of their grasp.

The man above me yelled something over his shoulder that I couldn’t hear over the hammering of my heart in my ears.

“Let me go!” I screamed, fighting against his hand before another hand grabbed at my side. I battled against them as they hauled me up and over the railing. I still wrestled against the arms wrapped around me as we fell to the metal floor of the bridge. “You should’ve let me die!” I screamed at him, trying to get out of his grasp.

He held me tightly against his strong chest. “Calm down, lass. I ain’t lettin’ ya go ’til ya calm down.” His heavily accented voice spoke up.

Suddenly, I was too tired to fight him, falling limp against his chest. Tears flooded my eyes again. “You should’ve let me die.”

“Calm down, lass. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” He told me, trying to coo in my ear.

A sob was ripped from my throat. “I wanted to die.”

He readjusted his grip on me, pulling me closer to him and I wrapped my arms Tankhtly around his torso, clinging to him. “It’s gonna be okay.” He cooed, rocking me back and forth.

It took a long time before he stopped rocking and looked down at me. I’d been staring at the field on the bottom of the bridge for however long it’d been since he’d stopped talking to me. I knew there was a motorcycle parked somewhere close and another man sitting at my feet, blocking me from the bridge railing, but that was all I could gather.

“Kelsi?” The man holding me asked quietly.

I didn’t know how he knew my name, but I nodded slowly, feeling his leather jacket rub against my rough face.

“Why did ya jump?” He asked quietly.

I was quiet for a long time, considering maybe the possibility my voice had left me. “I told him if he hit me again, I’d kill myself.” I told him, barely above a whisper. The tears I cried stung my injured cheek, but I could hardly feel it over his arms wrapped around me and his leather jacket on my opposite cheek.

“Yer boyfriend?” He asked quietly.

“He proposed and I said yes. I thought he’d stop if I said yes.” I said, feeling like if I moved my eyes from the field at the bottom of the hill, the world would crumble and never be able to fit back together.

“Ya live with ’im?” He asked.

I pulled away from him quickly, crawling back towards the other side of the bridge, startling him and the other man. “You can’t take me back! You can’t make me!” I stopped, being pressed against something rubber and I felt the tire for one of the motorcycles against my back.

He turned, watching me carefully as he held his hand out, motioning for me to stop moving. “I ain’t takin’ ya ‘nywhere near tha’ monster.”

I got my first real look at him. He had salt and pepper in his hair and beard. There were two long scars next to each other that ran over his eye and down to his cheek. Some might have thought he looked intimidating, but I could see the kindness in his eyes.

My eyes darted towards the other one, who had stood when I’d moved away from the older one. The one standing was younger and blonde with and a hoodie under his leather jacket and baggy pants around his legs. The one who had been talking to me wore the same jacket he did. It looked like it was for a motorcycle club or something.

“He told me to die slowly,” I said, looking at the older one. “I can’t…”

He slowly moved closer to me. I wondered if he’d ever dealt with someone who’d been abused before. He didn’t raise his voice or move quickly like most people did. He kept eye contact, showing me he meant me no real harm. But I still didn’t know if I could trust him. “I want ta protect ya from that, lass, best I can. But ya gotta trust meh.”

I watched him for a moment before my eyes flickered to the man standing, blocking my access to the bridge railing. He looked barely older than Danny and I didn’t know. He had a look on his face I couldn’t place and I didn’t know if I trusted him, even if I trusted the older man.

“I’m Hawk. This here is Mac. He’s a friend. We’re in the same club together. A brother.” The older man told me, reaching for his leather vest and fluffing it so I understood.

I bit my lip, looking back at Hawk. “Will he hurt me?” I asked quietly like somehow, the other man wouldn’t hear my words.

Hawk shook his head slowly. “Ain’t nobody gonna hurt ya ever again, lass. But you gotta trust meh. Can ya trust meh?”

I watched him for a long moment. Something in my brain registered that Hawk would do me no more harm and without much thought, I nodded.

Slowly, very slowly, he got to his feet, shuffling closer to me and holding his hand out to me. I watched it for another moment, trying to make my arm move and grab his hand with mine. When I did, he easily pulled me to my feet without any help from me and Mac, the blonde one moved closer.

“Ya ever rode a motorcycle, lass?” Hawk asked.

I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest against the cold. I’d expected to die; I hadn’t planned on still being alive after it got dark. Mac threw his arms out behind him and I cringed, raising my shoulder, expecting a blow. But one never came. Hawk gently touched my shoulder, telling me to relax.

“Can’t have ya freezing, darlin’.” Mac said in his rough voice and I realized he was holding his zip-up hoodie out to me.

“You… don’t have to.” I told him quietly.

Hawk took it from him, moving to drape it over my shoulders. I ducked my head, sliding my arms into the holes and mumbling a quiet thank you. “All ya have to do is hold tight to me and lean with the bike. I do all the rest.” He said, climbing on the bike.

I glanced back at the bridge, wondering how cold the water was between the rocks.

“Lass, come on. You’re better than that.” Hawk said gently.

I looked over at him. No one had ever told me I was better than anything. I’d always heard how I was white trash, good for nothing, waste of space. “No, I’m not,” I told him, sliding onto the bike behind him. I jumped when he kicked it to life, but the rest of the ride was smooth.

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