Chaos Kings MC

by Linny Lawless

  He covered my arms with his. “Yeah, you’re right. I want to be part of his life, and I want him to know who his father is. I don’t know if I’m going to be good at this parenting thing, but I’ll figure it out as I go along.”

  “We will figure it out together, Owen.” He showed me that warm, handsome smile of his that still made my stomach do somersaults.

  We planned to sign a new lease and move us into a two-bedroom apartment in a few months so Jake could have his own bedroom. And we would decorate it with his most favorite thing—motorcycles.

  THE END

  Continue the CHAOS KINGS MOTORCYCLE CLUB with book 3, Coveted by CHAOS, Available now!

  Coveted by CHAOS

  Copyright 2019 by Linda Lawson

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Some of the places named in the book are actual places found in Virginia. The names, characters, brands, and incidents are either the product of my imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  This book contains mature content and is intended for adults 18+ only.

  Cover Models: Armando and Taylor

  Photographer: Reggie Deanching

  Cover Design: Charli Childs, Cosmic Letterz Cover Design

  Editing and Proofreading: Mitzi Carroll and Marisa Nichols

  Interior Design by Clara Stone of Reader Central

  Personal Assistants: Mikki Thomas and Kristin Youngblood

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without written permission.

  Purchase only authorized editions. Thank you for respecting the author's work and not supporting or encouraging piracy. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at linnylawless@gmail.com

  Coveted by CHAOS

  “I Am the Highway” by Audioslave

  “Like a Stone” by Audioslave

  “Auto Rock” by Mogwai

  “Strict Machine” by Goldfrapp

  “Shape of Things to Come” by Audioslave

  “Bad Things” by Jace Everett

  “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

  “Pussy Liquor” by Rob Zombie

  “Dragula” by Rob Zombie

  “Porn Star Dancing” by My Darkest Days, featuring Zakk Wylde

  “Pony” by Ginuwine

  “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails

  “Wicked Game” by Ursine Vulpine featuring Annaca

  “Earned It” by The Weekend

  “Tainted Love” by Marilyn Manson

  “Crazy” by Aerosmith

  Coveted by CHAOS

  Linny Lawless

  GUNNER

  The only family I have are my brothers. The ones I fought with in the war and the ones I ride beside in my club, the Chaos Kings MC. I keep everyone else in this fucked-up world at a distance. It’s better that way, isn’t it? One night I stumble upon the most beautiful red-haired vixen to ever walk this earth. Never did I think that the Cheetah Club would have the cat just for me. She’s enticing, captivating, and decadently delicious. The sultry movement of her body calms the ever-growing darkness and pain that surrounds me. I want to touch her, to breathe her in. But can I do that without letting her see the monster that I am?

  FIONA

  The King comes in to watch me dance at the Cheetah. He’s unapproachable, unreadable, but still, I sense his primal sexual energy. Almost as if he’s a panther on the prowl. He matches this cat well if you ask me. He isn’t like the others. He sees what others don’t. To him, I’m not wicked or repulsive. I see him as well. I see the way he carries pain and darkness like an albatross around his neck. This Chaos King may want me to be afraid of him, but no one frightens me because I am as cursed as they come. And the only thing he does is draw me closer. All I want to do is know his name and just how sinful his lips feel against mine.

  I covered my head as I sat on my knees at his feet. He slapped a brown leather belt against his thigh. The scent of mildew rising from the cement floor. One light bulb with a pullspring above my father was the only thing illuminating us. “Idolatry…Witchcraft…revellings and such like….” Father’s voice is slurred, and he spit and bellowed, “…of which I tell you before, as I have also told you in the past! They which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God!”

  “Please, Caleb! Please stop! She’s innocent!” Mother cried as she stood on the wooden steps leading down to the basement.

  Father turned, extending his fisted grip on the belt toward her. “Shut your mouth, woman!” He turned back to me, slapping my hands away. He grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back to look up at him. His eyes were bloodshot. “Sinful whore! Witch!” He released me, pushing so hard that I fell back, landing on my elbows. My green skirt with white daisies rose up, bearing my thighs. His eyes pivoted to them. I was frozen still, terrified.

  Father had punished me so many times before. I was a woman now, and I knew my punishments would be far worse and degrading. Father had caught me dancing along to a pop song on the clock radio on my bedside table. My eyes were closed as I swayed my hips to the rhythm of the sexy beat. My hands pressed down along my hips and thighs.

  “Dancing! It’s sinful! Disgusting! You’re damned, Fiona.”

  Would I be able to survive another night or day in that dark closet? I was past sobbing but couldn’t speak. Hiccups were the only sounds coming from my trembling lips.

  My hand shot up as he reached for me again. “Please, Father! Don’t hurt me!” It was useless to plead with him. He grabbed my wrist, dragging me across the cold cement floor toward the back of the dark basement. I heard Mother crying at the steps as Father released me and opened the rickety wooden door of the closet.

  “No, Father! Please! I will repent! I will take any punishment! Just please don’t lock me in there!” I screamed, my throat so dry I only heard my breath and not my voice.

  Father heaved me up under my armpits and launched me into the small four-by-four-foot closet. I flew forward and landed on my knees, scraping them. “But the men of Sodom were wicked and sinners before the Lord exceedingly!” He slammed the wooden door shut, the sound of the padlock clicking.

  Light from the single bulb illuminated through the slits between the wood slats of the door. Then the light went out. Total darkness. I screamed, balling my hands into fists and slamming my palms against the wood. No use. No one could hear me locked up in that small closet. My dark prison. My hell. I started to tremble and began to hyperventilate. I felt that my heart would explode in my chest. And still, no one could hear me. After a long while, I went quiet and still. I wrapped my arms around my bent knees and leaned against the cool cement wall. Exhaustion. I needed to close my eyes to sleep, but I couldn’t.

  I eventually dozed off. My eyes flew open to the sound of the padlock unclicking. I sat up from the wall, running my hands through my scalp and grabbing chunks of my own hair. Was it Father coming back to inflict more pain with his leather belt against my thighs and my backside? The warped wooden door swung open.

  “Fiona, it’s me. Seth. Come out.” It was a hushed whisper. I couldn’t see my brother’s face, only his silhouette from the light behind him. “Father left.”

  He held his hand out, and I grabbed it, coming to my knees and crawling out of the dark hole. I flung myself onto him, clinging tightly. “Seth! I thought I was going to die in there!”

  He squeezed me back. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come quicker, Sis.”

  I pulled away from him. His brows were knotted together. I saw anger. And fear. “My brave brother…I have to go back in. He’ll hurt you if he finds out!”

  I turned to crawl back in, but Seth took hold of my arms. “No, Fiona. Go to your room and lock your door. Mother knows I came down here to get you out. Father will still be drunk off his ass when he gets back. I’m big enough now. I think I can take him.” Seth was only fourteen
years old. He was just a child. He’d seen all the things Father did to me over the years, ever since he learned how to walk. I broke down in his arms. He was all I had. Mother loved us, too, but she feared Father more. I looked into his eyes, so full of rage.

  Later that night as I sat on my bed, hugging my pillow, I listened to Father yell at Seth from behind my bedroom door. Seth was wrong that day. He wasn’t able to take Father. He was beaten, and then he was the one locked in that basement closet for two days for taking me out of it. Father commanded Seth to repent of his own sins because he was as damned as I was.

  My temples pounded. I draped my forearm over my eyes to block the muted sunlight coming through the bedroom window. I had way too many whiskey shots the night before at the Cheetah Club. And I was a complete dumb fuck to ride my Road King as trashed as I was. All I could remember was stripping everything off and landing face down in my bed. All because of the red-haired exotic dancer, who called herself Cherri.

  Cradled in the crook of my other arm was soft, warm fur. I uncovered my eyes and peeked through one to see Gypsy. She was curled up beside me, purring as she slept.

  “How did you get down here again? Did Sam let you in?” Gypsy opened her eyes and meowed. I sat up and groaned. My movement forced her to get up, arch her back, and begin her morning bathing routine.

  I had my good share of lap dances and spent plenty of money in exotic dance clubs. But there was something about Cherri. Her seductive movements around the pole put me in some kind of trance—almost like popping a Xanax, the relaxing warmth spreading in the pit of my stomach. Not only did she calm me, but she also made my dick as hard as a rock.

  The Chaos Kings brought Skully to the Cheetah a few months back to celebrate his patch-in with the club. That’s where I found Cherri for the first time. Skully received more than his share of lap dances that night, so when Wez told me he was going to get the red-haired siren to give him a lap dance, I nodded my head toward a cute brunette dancer. “Not the redhead. Offer some bills to that brunette over there.” Wez let out a little chuckle. “Okay, brother. I get it.”

  Gypsy jumped off my bed and scampered up the stairs to find Sam. She was cooking breakfast up in the kitchen; I smelled the bacon, eggs, and coffee. I scooted off the bed to put on my jeans that I left crumpled on the floor by my boots. I climbed up the stairs to find Sam at the stove with a spatula in her hand. Ratchet sat in his spot at the kitchen table, drinking his coffee.

  I found Gypsy again, sitting in my chair at the table. “Had enough of you already. Go.” I shooed her off and planted my ass down.

  “Looks like you pounded a few down again last night,” Ratchet said knowingly.

  I combed a hand through my messy bed hair. “Yeah.”

  “At the clubhouse?”

  “Nah. Cheetah Club.”

  “Again?”

  Sam handed me a cup of coffee, just the way I like it. “Thanks, darlin’.” I took a sip and looked back at Ratchet. “Yeah. Again. Nothing going on last night at the clubhouse, so I wanted to watch Cherri again.”

  “Watch her, what? Dance? Or watch over her?”

  Ratchet knew me all too well. “Both, I guess.”

  He shoved a forkful of Sam’s scrambled eggs off his plate. “You haven’t asked her for a private dance yet?’

  “Nah. Just like watching her. She’s a good dancer. This sounds fucking weird, but when I watch her, it calms me. I’ll have a drink or two. Sometimes the other girls offer a dance or something private. But I don’t go there for that.”

  Sam placed a hand on my forearm, her eyes soft. “Are you taking your meds, Gunner?”

  I placed my hand over hers, giving her a crooked smile. She was a good woman. “Yeah, darlin’. Just like the doc tells me to.” I knew she was concerned, so I didn’t tell her how those meds and the whiskey didn’t mix well sometimes. Or how the throbbing, painful headaches still came and went.

  Ratchet swallowed down his first bite. “Hell, that girl has probably dealt with a bunch of fucked-up asshole customers. So, you just being there to admire her might tweak her interest in you, brother.”

  The only way I would be able to tweak her interest in me was to pay her for it.

  He came into the Cheetah Club again the night before. He never requested a private dance in one of the VIP rooms but sat at a small table in the corner of the club, just to watch me dance. He had dark brown hair and a dark beard. Both his shoulders and arms were covered with tattoos. He was built well, but not huge or bulky. And it was the way he walked that caught my attention—confident posture with wide steps, like a panther stalking his prey. I knew he was a member of the motorcycle club called the Chaos Kings. He came in with them over a month ago, celebrating with one of their new members who’d just joined their club.

  After their party, he would come in alone and sit in the same spot at least once a week. I was aware of his presence, catching him in peripheral vision as I danced on the front stage. I struggled to focus, dancing and smiling at the men who came to slip money into my G-string, knowing the Chaos King sat at his table, drinking his whiskey and watching me dance. Only me.

  This night was like any other night, and I was requested by a customer in the club who wanted a private dance in the VIP. He was a polite, middle-aged man, so I gave him a good, thirty-minute private dance. When I got back to the dressing room, I peeked through the side door that overlooked stage, just to get another look at the biker. He waited until I left the VIP before he paid his tab and left.

  “That biker is smitten with you, Cherri.” Destiny, the only dancer who would talk to me at the club, turned around in front of the wall mirror, wiggling her ass.

  I watched the biker walk out the front doors of the club and turned to Destiny. “Yes. It seems like it.”

  “He’s never slipped you any money or ask for you in the VIP?”

  “No. Neither. He seems very comfortable with himself, but unapproachable.” I began to dress in my street clothes since that was my last dance on stage for the night.

  “You just have that kind of effect on him, babe. He’ll come around one night. I bet he’s loaded with money. And hung like a bull!”

  “How have you come to that conclusion? That he’s loaded with money and well-endowed?”

  “You talk funny sometimes, Cherri. He’s a biker. And he’s in a bike gang. That’s why I think he’s loaded with money. Do you mean a big cock? I’ll bet he does! If you ever do get him in the VIP, will you find out for me? Please?”

  I sighed. My skin was very fair, and it turned a faint shade of pink. “You have no filter, Destiny.”

  Destiny was a very sultry, exotic woman. She was of mixed blood, half African, half Asian, with thick jet-black hair that hung down past her shoulders. She was a stark contrast to me, with my Scottish blood, white skin, blue eyes, and long red hair. It felt like a curse sometimes.

  “It’s not the colonial days, Cherri. You talk all prim and proper like you lived during the Revolutionary War or something. But it’s cute and sexy, I guess.” She winked at me as I gathered my night bag and headed out.

  I blew her a kiss. “Get rich tonight, darling.” She snatched my invisible kiss from the air and winked. “You know it, baby.”

  The Chaos clubhouse let loose on another Friday night. It was the beginning of fall, and the temps were getting cooler; the leaves beginning to turn from green to red, brown, and yellow. It was the perfect season for riding; you just added an extra layer of clothing. Chaos bikes were parked in the lot, side by side. My brothers were all here, popping caps off beer bottles to start the weekend.

  I sat at the bar with Magnet as he waited for his two girlfriends to show up. I couldn’t remember their names, but they were good-looking and seemed to tend to Magnet’s every need. The three of them were pretty carefree about having a good time.

  Magnet threw down a shot of whiskey with me as he slammed his glass back on the bar. “You wanna team up with Brandy and Becky?”

  I almo
st spit out my shot, but I managed to swallow it down quickly. “Team up? Man, that’s all for you. I don’t share when it comes to the females.”

  Magnet let out a booming laugh, shaking his head. “No, brother. I didn’t mean a fuck-fest. I meant teaming up to play a few games of pool.”

  “Well, in that case, sure. I’m game. I’ll set up the table.” I climbed off the stool and headed toward the tables. “You wanna break the first game?”

  “Yeah. The girls are pulling in now.”

  Being around laid-back, pretty women was one of the good things about being a Chaos King. I admired the fairer sex—they came in all shapes and sizes, and they were all unique. I’d had my fair share of women, and I respected them but liked to observe and admire them from a distance—as they lost their inhibitions and were free with their sexuality. Sometimes I’d get a pleasant view watching them dance topless on the pool tables at the clubhouse—touching each other. It was sexy, and of course, it got my dick as hard as granite.

  I teamed up with Brandy, and we beat Magnet and Becky three out of three games of pool. Magnet wanted more punishment and kept his losing streak by getting Wez to play a game with him one-on-one. I left out of the clubhouse, strapped on my lid, and started my Road King. Cherri was dancing at the Cheetah Club, and I was headed there. Jay-Jay, the DJ at the Cheetah, filled me in on her schedule.

  I was there to watch her every week now. Jay-Jay announced her as Cherri. When Cherri got on stage, my eyes locked with hers. There was nothing and no one else I could focus on for the rest of the night. Just her. She was gorgeous. Her long, red hair fell to the curve of her heart-shaped ass. I loved seeing her creamy white skin glow under the pulsing disco lights. She stood tall in her clear platform sandals and moved her hips languidly along with a heavy beat of the music, thanks to Jay-Jay. Chris Cornell’s voice drifted from the speakers as Cherri moved her hips, my eyes roaming over her curvy thighs and calves.