Bolt (Iron Thunder MC Book 1)

by Kasey Krane

  Bolt

  Iron Thunder MC #1

  Kasey Krane

  Savannah Rylan

  Copyright © 2020 by Kasey Krane & Savannah Rylan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Bolt

  2. Cassie

  3. Bolt

  4. Cassie

  5. Bolt

  6. Cassie

  7. Bolt

  8. Cassie

  9. Bolt

  10. Cassie

  11. Bolt

  12. Cassie

  13. Bolt

  14. Cassie

  15. Bolt

  16. Cassie

  17. Bolt

  18. Cassie

  19. Bolt

  20. Cassie

  Sneak Peak of Flash

  About Kasey Krane

  More Books by Kasey Krane

  About Savannah Rylan

  More Books by Savannah Rylan

  1

  Bolt

  I woke up in a cold sweat, and looked around. I was glad to be in my own bed but wasn’t alone, and I’d forgotten all about that.

  That wretched nightmare was back again, the one in which I ran and ran in an endless loop down a dark tunnel, the sound of dripping water overhead. I never went anywhere, just kept on running till it felt like my chest was about to explode. Well, maybe it wasn’t a nightmare at all—maybe it was a sign. But I didn’t want to think about that. Not right now.

  I sat up and the figure beside me stirred.

  She had the covers pulled high up to her neck in front of her, leaving her back exposed to me. A perfectly rounded butt.

  Now, I recalled slapping that fine butt last night, admiring the way it had bounced when she’d driven herself into my cock repeatedly, up and down, up and down on my lap—while I sat there in a chair, nonchalantly just sipping on an ice-cold beer.

  And she’d given a satisfied groan at the end of all that, but did I actually satisfy her? Did I? She’d made plenty of comments about my enormous cock and how she couldn’t wait to have it inside her, but the feeling wasn’t exactly mutual. No, not mutual at all, in fact.

  Okay, so she was fuckin’ hot, admittedly; there was no doubt about that, but although my cock was telling me something, it didn’t mean I really wanted her, at least not the same way she said she wanted me.

  She was a redhead who sure did know what she wanted, one with sexy, pouty lips; her lipstick was just as bright as her hair and it had really got me going at the start. That was till I got bored of her endless yapping.

  See, she couldn’t stop giving me her backstory, something about her ex, what a monster he’d been to her—yada, yada. Got the sense she was looking for something.

  Anyway, I wanted to hold her, shake her, make her see I wasn’t it, whatever the fuck she thought she was looking for.

  But it was too late.

  Next thing, she was taking off her clothes, tweaking her nipples with her fingers. I should’ve put my can down right there and then and just sent her out of my apartment, but my cock was already throbbing in my pants.

  She saw it too and her lips curled in a smile.

  Maybe she thought she had some kinda hold over me.

  So, I gave up and just fucked her, hoping I’d fall asleep easily. Hoping I wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night with this dream running through my head again. But it didn’t work. There was no escaping it.

  And now, in the pitch dark, there she was again, the bitch—that redhead lying next to me, thankfully facing away this time. I didn’t want to watch her sleep, because then I’d feel the urge to wake her and tell her to get the fuck out of my place.

  I was a bastard most of the time, but Mama had raised her boy to be good to women. Yes, as much as they fucking annoyed me sometimes.

  I was just about to get up to go splash cold water on my face—but my phone buzzed on the dresser. In the dark, I fumbled my way to it and saw Flash’s name illuminate the screen.

  What was he doing calling me in the middle of the night?

  I took the phone out of the room, groaning into it in the hallway; I was still covered in sweat and needed a shower.

  This better be good, I thought.

  “Need to get your ass over here before all Hell breaks loose,” Flash said, out of breath as he spoke.

  “What’s goin’ on?” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, a little confused. I’d been at the Clubhouse just a couple of hours ago; that was where I’d picked up the redhead over a game of pool.

  Things had seemed calm enough when I’d left, so what had changed so drastically in that span of time?

  “Get the fuck over here, Bolt. I need my Sergeant of Arms to take care of this fuckin’ mess.”

  I could hear raised voices behind his, could barely hear the music always blasting in the Clubhouse. This alone meant trouble.

  “On my way,” I said and hung up. Whatever it was, Flash considered it important enough to drag me out of bed for it.

  I returned to the bedroom to put on my clothes; that girl was still just lying there asleep in my bed, and I debated whether to wake her.

  Was it a good idea to just leave her in my apartment?

  Didn’t want her getting the wrong impression.

  The way a woman’s brain worked was still a mystery to me.

  I could leave a note that she should see herself out and shut the door behind her? But in the end, I decided it was best to not give her a hint of interest. No—no note.

  I didn’t intend on seeing her again, wanted her to realize I’d left without waking her because I had nothing to say. Just—nothing.

  Now, she was just a thing, in the bed, in my life—in the way.

  I didn’t have time for a shower and stepped right out, the cold air stinging my damp skin. My bike roared to life as I jumped on it; this was good. I needed the distraction, didn’t need sleep. I just wanted to fuck off, away from that dream as quickly as I could.

  In exactly twelve minutes, I was parked up outside Fifth Gear, the bar owned and run by our MC, Iron Thunder. The back of it housed our private Clubhouse where all the other bikes were already standing out front.

  Flash had clearly called everyone else.

  Looked like I was one of the last to arrive.

  Flash and Ghost were standing squarely at the bar’s entrance, and as I walked up toward them, I could see it on their faces—something wasn’t quite right. I could sense it, too, in the way the others were hanging about the place. Seemed like the MC was on high alert; were we watching out for an attack or something? Had we received a tip-off from a rival MC?

  What the fuck was going on?

  “Care to tell me what’s up?” I shouted across. Flash and Ghost were deep in conversation with each other in a hushed tone. They looked up at me.

  “Took your bloody time,” Ghost complained.

  “I was in bed.”

  “With some chick,” he added.

  “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter right now. He’s here. You need to take care of this,” Flash commanded, his tone enough to shut up Ghost, who was clearly on edge about something.

  “I’ll take care of it as soon as someone tells me what the problem is.”

  Behind us, I heard Spike making his way around the back of the building, shouting orders at prospects who went scattering away. He was the MC Enforcer, the guy responsible for training the fresh prospects who followed his every
command like it was the Gospel.

  “Where the fuck you been?” he growled, coming over to us.

  “In bed—fucking some chick,” Ghost said.

  “Want an introduction?” I snapped at him, and Flash had to step in again.

  “Cut it out!”

  “Make sure nobody gets in or out!” Spike shouted at a pair of Prospects standing near the bikes. They straightened up, nodding. “I better not catch you fuckin’ nodding off.”

  I was still waiting for someone to fill me in, but they all seemed too caught up with setting the place in order.

  Spike nodded at me. “Good, you’re here.”

  As we were walking in, I caught Flash’s elbow. “Wanna tell me what’s going on here?”

  “Had to call a committee meeting.”

  “An emergency committee meeting? Why? In the middle of the night?”

  He stopped in his tracks, throwing a look over his shoulder.

  “We’re trying not to announce it; one of our guys was found in Silver Knights territory.”

  I glared at Flash, expecting this to lead somewhere.

  “So?”

  “There’s more to it,” he said, tugging his arm away, but I made it clear I wasn’t going to follow him inside till I got the full picture. Why were they all so cagey?

  The others were inside, Flash and I the only ones at the door, other than the fresh prospects assigned guard duty by Spike.

  “I need an explanation before I walk in there looking like an idiot.”

  “You’ll find out more when you’re in there.”

  “Why can’t you tell me now?”

  “Because we’re fuckin’ trying to keep it under wraps. Nobody other than the core team needs to know. Don’t want any other idiots getting ideas.”

  “So you’re telling me none of us are allowed in the Silver Knights territory? Was he just riding through? Do we know what he was doing there exactly? Or is this some sorta witch hunt?”

  Flash’s face was stormy, dark and rigid. They were making a big deal out of nothing, unless I was missing something. Eventually, he relaxed his shoulders a little and I sensed he was about to spill the beans.

  “There’s more to it than that. That fucker sold our shipment to them.”

  For a second, I thought I hadn’t heard him right.

  “He… What did you just say?”

  I watched as he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

  “Yeah, who knows where he got the idea? He was supposed to travel with tonight’s shipment. Instead, he took it straight to the Silver Knights.”

  I could feel the blood in my veins literally going cold.

  This wasn’t what I’d been expecting to hear.

  This was going to result in severe consequences.

  Flash stepped back, pushing open the doors with his back.

  “Satisfied now?” he snapped. Then he disappeared inside.

  It was going to take me a minute to grapple with the news and I tried to mentally comb through the roster.

  Who was supposed to be on watch for tonight’s shipment? I couldn’t remember. It had to be one of the new guys, not someone who mattered too much, or Flash would have told me his name.

  As Sergeant of Arms, I’d be the one who’d have to strip this guy of his Club membership. Before anything else, the whole MC would have to vote on how we wanted to deal with the situation. If he only got stripped of his membership, he’d be getting off easy. There were at least a hundred other severe punishments I could think of that the MC might deem worthier.

  Selling our shipment off to our rivals was unforgivable; what had this fucker been thinking? That he’d never get caught? That none of us would find out? Had he done something like this before?

  I had a million questions for him, but wasn’t sure if I’d get to ask him any of them. The MC was going to go on an immediate bloodlust the moment they brought this guy in. I could see it on their faces; they were triggered and weren’t going to let this guy get off lightly.

  I walked into the bar, straight past the drinking and the pool table and all the people still hanging about at this time of the night. At the back, in the clubhouse, I could see all our men gathered in Drax’s office. They’d formed a tight circle around him and turned to see when I walked in.

  “Glad you could join us,” Drax grunted.

  “Sorry, I was at home. Sleeping. Flash called me,” I said.

  He nodded. As President of the Club, he had a big responsibility on his hands; he’d have to keep the rest of us in check, making sure none of us did anything wild—despite the circumstances.

  I looked around at the faces of the others in the room, trying to figure out who it was coming under the chopping block.

  Maybe they didn’t have him here yet.

  Either way, it was going to be a long night. Good. It wasn’t like I was sleeping well anyway.

  2

  Cassie

  I was watching the clock all night like a hawk, and waited for over two hours after Chip left the house before I finally decided to do anything. It wasn’t my place, and I didn’t know what I was doing—but had to do something.

  I couldn’t just sit around here watching TV all night with this gut feeling that something was wrong with my brother.

  Chip was the older one, by three years to be exact, but it was always me doing the looking after. Ever since we’d lost our dad when we were just kids, things had never really gone right for Chip. Mom said she couldn’t handle him, that he was out of control.

  Chip joined street gangs growing up, was constantly involved in some petty crime or robbery, always getting himself caught up in fights. So my childhood was spent waiting up at night with Mom, both sitting biting our lips, waiting to hear—from Chip or the cops. Mom was scared for his life, wishing she could help him in some way, but the only way Chip’s life would have turned out differently was if our Dad hadn’t died.

  That had changed it all for us.

  The other driver had been drunk, so drunk and so fast that Dad didn’t see him coming. The only thing we could hope for was that he died quickly and free of pain. And Chip lost a role model, the one he’d always looked up to.

  Chip was the man of the house now, at just twelve years old.

  Being the man was now his job.

  One he couldn’t step up to.

  Mom tried to stop him from getting into trouble, but Chip wanted to do everything he could to make some extra cash. Things usually wouldn’t end well for him, and so we bailed him out a lot. I’d sit by and watch as Mom nursed his wounds after particularly rough nights; even as a kid, I knew my life was mapped out, and that I’d have to spend the rest of my life taking care of my older brother who wasn’t responsible enough to take care of himself.

  So much, then, for him being the man.

  A man was supposed to be protective, to look out for us, but instead, the roles were reversed.

  And then our mom died last year—cancer.

  I’d spent the past three years caring for her while Chip descended even further down into a pit of despair and helplessness. Their relationship had been strained over the years, but I knew they’d loved each other; of that, I’d had no doubt. He couldn’t bear to see Mom in her condition, and so he started spending even more time outside the house now. Kind of selfish, but in a way, I guess I understood it. No one liked seeing their mom suffer like that.

  After she died, he was gone from the place.

  Just as if he’d never been there, really. So, I didn’t see Chip for two weeks straight, gone frantic searching for him, calling everybody I knew, calling the cops, putting up posters. And then one day, like a lost tom cat that suddenly shows up with a torn ear, there he was. Chip had come back to the house with a broken nose and a split lip.

  He said he was doing important work, that he was on the brink of making a lot of money and I should just leave him alone.

  I cried with relief that night; my brother was still alive.

 
; In the mornings, no matter how rough the night before had been, Chip would always be in a great mood. It was always the best part of the day because I had a slice of my brother. The true him. The guy I’d grown up with. The guy who liked to bake chocolate chip cookies and make snowmen out of dough balls and bring a tray of breakfast in bed for Mom and me.

  He had his good side and the mornings were what showed it best.

  Chip was sweet then, full of laughter and concern. Then the evenings would come around and along with the blackness of the night, a dark and sinister mood took hold of Chip too.

  I knew I’d lose my brother to the night again.

  It was an endless cycle.

  You’d think I’d have been used to it by now, but I wasn’t.

  I had my own business to think about, but the only thing that occupied my mind was my brother’s welfare.

  Four years ago, just before Mom fell sick, she gave me some money to invest in a business of my own. I opened up a small cafe at a place I rented cheaply. Using Chip’s cookie recipe, I baked fresh cakes every morning; the cafe was doing well, and I managed a small income from it.

  I’d lost track of how many times I begged Chip to give up all his other ideas and to come work with me, offering him a shared ownership of the cafe, a chance to bake all the cookies he wanted to feed people. Sometimes, he’d claim he loved the idea, but he was always on the brink of some major ‘breakthrough’. There was always another promise to join me in the business as soon as he’d made his big money. Next time, next time.

  That wasn’t going to happen. I knew it, and maybe he did as well but just didn’t want to admit it to himself.

  And now, since Mom’s death, things had gotten even worse. He barely even woke up in the mornings for me to experience that other happy side of him. He slept till midday and left the house as soon as he woke. He had no time for me, no interest in his sister.