Free Taking The Heat by SD Hildreth

go by and check on Sydney, I decided I really had no right to do so. Having provided a place to stay and a job gave me no privilege to stop in and see her, no matter how much I wanted to. There was something about her attitude, gorgeous looks, and take no bullshit personality that not only intrigued me, but provided me with comfort. It was almost as if I felt spending time with her would allow her gratuitous nature and strong will to rub off on me. Knowing seeing her without an invitation could seem creepy, I began to consider what other options I might have.
    Sometimes I felt having nothing I was required to do the day, while most all of the other Sinners worked, was more of a curse than a blessing. As I relaxed into the seat of the bike and turned on the ignition, it dawned on me it was Thursday, and my new cams should be in.
    Now , I had something to do; modifying my bike, which would hopefully allow me to beat Otis in our next race. And, as far as I was concerned, nothing was more important than beating Otis. Not only in my eyes, but in the eyes of most of the Sinners, Otis was somewhat of a God. It seemed he was incapable of doing wrong. Although Axton was always willing to listen, sometimes he held a strong opinion and came off as a bigger prick than he really was. Otis, on the other hand, was always reasonable and willing to discuss anything at length with any of the club brothers. He never seemed to lose his cool or come unraveled, regardless of what life tossed his direction.
    Hopefully after I got my new cams in my motor, I could change all of that. Nothing would satisfy me more than beating Otis in a race and having him explode with anger. Highly unlikely to happen, but it would prove to me he was just as human as the rest of us.
    Either way, I was ready to find out.

 
     
     
     
    SYDNEY
    Being placed in foster care at the age of four wasn’t something I wished for as a three year old child. Having been shipped around from foster home to foster home and never being adopted caused me to feel unwanted and alone. Eventually, we ended up in a permanent foster home, but I never felt as if we were part of the family, because we weren’t adopted. The father a minister, and the mother a codependent housewife, the home was an extremely strict one. Although we weren’t the only foster children in the home, we were the youngest.
    The biological children of the couple were treated differently, and the foster children were considered outcasts. The father kept the cupboards locked, and I remember always being hungry. The older siblings, be them in foster care or the biological children of the parents, raped the younger children; me included. I didn’t tell my brother until we were out of the home and adults - for fear of losing what little family we had. As I grew older and found out I had aunts and uncles who could have adopted us - but didn’t - the sadness I felt was immeasurable. I remember at the time feeling as if my suspicions of not being wanted by anyone were confirmed. As an adult, I became grateful my brother and I were never split up, and I was able to at least grow up with one member of my blood family by my side.
    As children, we were as inseparable as two orphaned siblings could be. As adults, we were equally as close, but his involvement in the MC separated us more and more as time passed. Eventually, I saw him less frequently, and came to understand the difference between being without parents and actually being alone. For me, being alone as an early adult was extremely difficult. As a result, I attached myself to any man who would give me the time of day, and always kept my mouth shut for fear of them leaving if I chose to oppose their thoughts, ideas, or principles.
    In the end, I had four failed relationships, a tendency to attach myself to abusive males, severe codependency, and daddy issues. If I had an advantage over all of the other fucked up women on this earth, it was that I was knowledgeable of