Clearwater's Hope: Wrath MC (Mountain of Clearwater Book 2)

  Clearwater’s Hope

  Tiffany Casper

  Mountain of Clearwater

  Wrath MC

  Book 2

  Dedication

  “LIFE ISN’T ABOUT WAITING FOR THE STORM TO PASS. IT’S ABOUT LEARNING HOW TO DANCE IN THE RAIN…

  -VIVIAN GREENE

  Text Copyright Tiffany Casper 2020©

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  All characters depicted in this book are fictional and are not based on anyone, sole, or location.

  Acknowledgment

  Shutterstock = Photographer: Focus and Blur

  To the five wonderful individuals that reviewed the first book in this series. Thank you!

  YouTube you rock for my music!

  As always, it’s so nice to say that I am working with a smile on my face and loving what I do.

  P.S.

  I feel like I owe a huge thanks to three authors that for me are my superheroes. They write kick ass content and I feel that they are so underrated which is how they want their lives to be. So, thank you for showing me that anything is possible, even for amateurs like me. Their initials are TSJ and KA and JG! A little giveaway for whomever is the first to dm me on my Instagram on who they think these authors are and if they are correct and they must have all three of them correct. Swag bag style!

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Thank You!

  Other Works

  Connect With Me

  Your Welcome!

  Prologue

  Marley

  When a young girl first sees the movie Cinderella, it does something to her. When she first reads Sleeping Beauty, fantasies become dreams. When she sees Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, she imagines she is the fairest of them all. And when she sees that Belle tamed the beast and fell in love with the man inside, it caused every girl to want to be the beauty with the beast.

  But what really happens when that dream becomes her reality?

  Is it happy ever after like the fairytales? Does the carriage turn into a rotten pumpkin?

  Or is it happy ever after only in the moment?

  Can it all go to hell and a handbasket in one day?

  Marley knew what her life was going to be like from the moment she opened her eyes, and when she opened her eyes for the very first time, was it her mother’s eyes that she saw or was it even her fathers?

  No. It was her current nannies’.

  Was she afforded all of the little things a girl could ever dream about or could ever want?

  Some would say yes. Those that value materials above all else.

  Did she dream of growing up and in turn giving her children all that she had yet to receive from her own parents? Absolutely.

  However, did she ever imagine that her greatest gift, wouldn’t be in her very close circle that consisted of her parents and her nanny, but thanks to someone else whom she never wants to meet, but that person would give her a treasure? Or will fate intervene once again and throw her at the wolves?

  Only time will tell. Will it be her ruin?

  Will her life end up like the fairy tale she has been dreaming of since she could walk? Or will it be so much better than even fantasies can be conjured up. Fantasies the likes of which have never seen the light of day.

  “I don’t care if you’re running a fever or not. You will go down to the kitchen and assist the cook with the preparation of the morning meal.”

  And just like that, my seven-year-old self was at the stove trying to help the cook make the eggs benedict. It never failed. It didn’t matter how sick I felt or if the cook was already done with breakfast. I was down there helping.

  My mother would always say there are no free rides in this world. Well if that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black then I didn’t know what was.

  However, after she left the kitchen in a flurry because her masseuse was standing at the door, the cook, Ms. White jerked the spatula from my grip and gave me a bag of bread to open and then place the slices in the toaster.

  “I just don’t understand why they have to treat you so. You’re not a bad kid. Too be honest if I didn’t need this job to feed my family, I would report your parents to child protective services. But alas I know it would do no good. They have too much power and wealth. A small, simple woman like myself wouldn’t be able to do a thing. But I am doing what I can to help protect you in any way that I can. I mean you’re not malnourished; you’re not beaten, you don’t live in your own filth. It’s just that they don’t give you a zero ounce of affection. Heck if I didn’t know better, I’d say your own mother never even carried you in her belly. There is a bond that a mother develops with her child in her womb. Apparently, your mother never experienced that bond or she just plain old didn’t want to.”

  Ms. White was in my eyes the epitome of Ms. Bee from the Andy Griffith Show. Right smack down onto the dresses, the way she spoke, the way she cooked, and she always had a strand of pearls around her neck.

  She said all of that at a lowered breath so that if any listening ears were to hear, then it would be faintly mumbled. And even then, she added a little melody to make it seem as thou she were singing a ballad.

  Most of the time I would hum at a low decimal so that I could help her out in the little games that we played.

  I knew that there was nothing anyone could do. I was stuck. Well at least until I turned eighteen and I was able to get out of this house. It was a wonder that they haven’t sent me to a boarding school to get me even further out of their hair. It would be a great respite and maybe then I would be able to actually breath, instead of feeling like I have to walk on eggshells all of the time when my parents were home.

  However, I could say that I was lucky enough that there also hadn’t been a charter school or a private school in our area, so I was able to go to public school.

  Did all of the kids in school think that I was an uppity cow? Yes, they did.

  But they judged me because of my parents money. They didn’t take the time to judge me for me. And how sad was that, that a seven-year-old was judged because of who their parents were?

  Now I was lucky in a sense that I did have people who worked for my parents in their house that even allowed me to just be a kid. All of them went out of their way to make sure that I was able to even be a kid. Well to the best of their abilities, however I never got to play in the mud, I never got to dance in the rain, I never got to experience the feel of slime in my hands, and I never got to make mud pies.

  That was too messy and in no way, shape, or form could a Westchester be seen as anything less than perfect at any given time of the day.

  Not to mention at any point during the day was I ever to not be in a dress.

  I was bound and determined that whenever I was blessed with children that there was nothing I wouldn’t do for my kids and with my kids.

  “Marley, quit staring that’s rude.” Then the usual mumbled under her breath, however not as subtly as I think she liked. “I can’t believe you came out of my body.”


  “Marley, do not put your elbows on the table when you eat.” Well Roberta, it’s kind of hard to not have my elbows on the table, I am only seven. I can’t even see my plate from this chair.

  Am I supposed to just starve myself to make you happy?

  Those were not the thoughts that a young little girl should even be having at such a young age. Especially not thoughts that she wished that her own mother wouldn’t have been the woman that birthed her.

  The thoughts that she should be having are, let’s see if I can make a mess, or dear god why can’t they learn that I don’t like it when my food touches? Or how about let’s see how much chocolate I can get on that slice of strawberry and have a sugar rush.

  “Marley, young ladies do not sit with their legs underneath their bottoms, they sit with them crossed at the ankles.” Again Mom, do you want me to starve?

  I only ever spoke my thoughts aloud to my nannies. If I spoke them aloud to her, it would only prolong the amount of time I had to be in her presence. Again, definitely not thoughts a young girl should have, only I had them in abundance.

  Where was my father in all of this? Silent in the other chair, paying the bill and eyeing all of the waitresses. Did I see him fondle a few of them from under their skirts from time to time? Yes, I did.

  Was it a blatant show of disrespect to not only my mother but to myself as well? Yet when I noticed my dad doing those things, I would look to my mom. My dad was a cheater. Not to mention my mother seemed to have her fair share of admires.

  My mom would be eyeing all of the other men in the room. Seeming to be calculating how many of them would throw their money her way.

  Did I also see him exit from a restroom right before a waitress came out adjusting her skirt? Yes. I knew what that meant. I watched television from time to time. Well when I was allowed free time in my scheduled block day.

  People that looked in on from the outside, saw that I was a snobby little rich girl. They never got to see behind these four-story walls. Would I give up all of the little designer dresses, all of the classes, to just have a normal life where my parents actually wanted to eat dinner with me? Yes.

  Would I give up the nannies at my beck and call and the five course meals we shared to just be able to sit on my father’s lap and eat gummy bears with me? Absolutely.

  However, instead of those things, I got the cold shoulders, unless I was being anything more than keeping up with appearances.

  Those were only the few times that my mother ever got on to me. And that was when we were out in public. When we were at home it was a different story. If it was the nanny’s day off. Then I was segregated up to my room. And at the proper mealtimes, meals were delivered up to my room by the cook.

  The cook always added extra goodies to the trays on the days that she knew my mother wouldn’t be inspecting them to make sure that I ate healthy enough to maintain a figure that was socially acceptable. Skin, bones, and starved. In desperate need of a few bon-bons.

  Most of the time it was a nanny that watched over me. Thankfully, it worked that way. I would hate to see the person I would have grown up into had it been any different.

  Now don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t that I was ungrateful for all of the things my parents were able to afford to give to me. Unfortunately, the main thing that I really wanted, was simple.

  Their Love. Their respect. Their devotion that a parent should have for their child.

  And now nine years later, nothing had yet to change. Did that surprise her? Not in the least.

  However, one certain nanny had come to be in employment who was the best of them all. Did she always throw a bag at me when I left the house for school? Did that bag always have a pair of jean leggings, a baggy t-shirt of some kind and my converses in them?

  Yes, she did.

  But at this point in my life, I had no friends whatsoever due to never being invited to anything. However, I did have one best friend and her name is Saylor. Did people try to be my friend and then I would notice their little comments about only being my friend because of the money, yes.

  Did that stop me from noticing a boy in high school. Well all throughout school that is. I never let on that this particular boy was the man that I saw in all of my dreams being my white knight in shining armor, being my beast, and being my hero.

  He was on the football team and totally delicious. Every cheerleader in three counties flaunted after him at every single game.

  Did he know that I existed, probably. Did I ever catch him looking at me, nope.

  Do I wish that he did? Yes please.

  York wasn’t the typical player boy in high school. The girls didn’t want to be with him because they knew he could make all of their fantasies come to life. No, it was because he was respected. It was because he was nice, and he was caring, and he was sweet.

  A lot of the times he would show the teddy bear inside of him but let someone mess with one of his friends on the field, a dang grizzly bear would emerge. He would emerge like he was coming out of hibernation.

  More times than not he would be flagged out on the field for unnecessary roughness, and of course that never stopped him from doing it again and again if the need arose.

  So, to say that when I had heard my name called in the hallway at school, I had been shocked. It was a first for me.

  But when I turned to see who had called my name, imagine my shock when it was none other than York himself sauntering over to me in his sexy as all sin swagger.

  “Marley.” That voice. Someone pinch me I thought wildly to myself.

  I wanted that hoodie that he had on. It was a black Metallica hoodie and it looked soft, and well worn, and just York.

  Those deep blue orbs entranced me and had me standing still like my feet were in cement when I should have turned back around and headed for the double doors to escape.

  Chapter 1

  York

  “Cooper, how did you miss that block?” Coach Jackson asked my best friend.

  “I’m sorry coach.” He said with his head hung low. If there was one thing about my friend, it was that he hated to fucking make a mistake.

  “Saying sorry doesn’t get it done. We’ve got to be smarter than this men, I know y’all are out there and giving your all. But in plays like that one, we will get that trophy door closed in our faces.” It was so quiet that you could hear a pen drop in the locker room.

  Still silence surrounded the locker room. We knew we were getting sloppy. We were all tired and worn down. We also have a ten-game winning streak and we are headed for the conference playoffs. Hopefully, we will win that and then go to state and then possibly the national championship.

  “Heck, I have it on good authority that there may even be some scouts out there in those bleachers. I’ll let that sink in and let that digest over the week. I know some of y’all need tickets out of here.” It was then that he looked directly at myself and a few of the other players.

  My future would be great if I got picked out by a scout, however I knew how that would go down the drain as soon as my grandfather got wind of any of that. Also, because going pro would be great but that wasn’t my dream.

  I was lucky that he even allowed me to play football at all in the beginning. Heck if there wasn’t a law against child laborers then I had no doubt that I would’ve been inducted into the family business on the day that I figured out how to turn a wrench and which screwdriver was a flat head and which one was a Philips.

  There was nothing in this world that mattered more than changing filters, doing brake jobs, and checking oil in vehicles. Not to mention, flirting with the older women to get more money out of them by telling them they needed more work done to their vehicles than that was needed.

  Thankfully, it had been my first game that my grandfather had seen, which had then changed his mind that little inch. The great Frank Allen Michaelson.

  But I still had a dream that I had only told one person about. And that was that at the end of grad
uation, I was joining the military.

  Did I like working on those cars for my grandfather? Yes.

  Did I like football? Was I a man? Yes.

  But there was just something about sitting in fourth grade and staring at the television in class and seeing all of that smoke coming from those towers on nine eleven.

  Still to this day, I had a passion and I felt that it was more like a calling. Did I envision myself killing people as the greatest joy I could ever feel? No. But did I want to be on the front lines protecting my country so that the people I cared about the most would be able to lay their heads down at night and be able to wake the next morning.

  Cliché, abso-fucking-lutely.

  However, now I am also the number one rated linebacker in the state. That also means that whatever I set my mind to; I go hard at it. Failure is not a word in my vocabulary.

  Does that attract a lot of attention from the girls? Yes, yes it does. Not to mention, even some of the guys moms that are on the team when their husbands were not looking.

  Was it great that I got all of that attention? Sure, that was cool, only there was one girl, one girl in particular that got my heart stammering, jumping, and that unanimously brought butterflies to my gut. Had I ever even talked to her. No. Marley was something else.

  But one day I had heard some girls chatting about the rich girl and how they couldn’t wait to see what all she would buy for them at the mall that afternoon.

  However, when I had turned my head, it was that girl that had stood at the door with her head looking down. And I knew that she was the rich girl they were talking about. I expected her to just close the door and go about her business like she hadn’t heard any of that. Any rich girl would just brush it off like they weren’t just talking about her behind her back.

  But not her.

  “You know I was thinking that when we go to the mall, we can hit up some of the discounted stores. They are having a drive at the shelter for the people there.” Marley said.

  And the looks on all of those girls faces had been priceless. None of them even knew that I had been there. I had been leaving the coaches office and going through the girls locker room was way quicker.