by Vi Carter
THORN
SONS OF DEVILS MC SERIES BOOK ONE
A DARK MC ROMANCE
BY VI CARTER
OTHER BOOKS BY VI CARTER
A BROKEN HEART SERIES
SAVING GRACE
CLAIMING AMBER
TAKING LAURA
WILD IRISH SERIES
RECKLESS (prequel)
VICIOUS #1
RUTHLESS #2
FEARLESS #3
MERCILESS #4
HEARTLESS #5
THE BOYNE CLUB
DARK #1
DARKER #2
DARKEST #3
PITCHBLACK #4
THE OBSESSED DUET
A DEADLY OBSESSION #1
A CRUEL CONFESSION #2
THE CELLS OF KALASHOV
THE SIXTH (NOVELLA)
THE COLLECTOR #1
THE HANDLER #2
YOUNG IRISH REBELS
MAFIA PRINCE #1
MAFIA KING #2 (COMING 15TH OF APRIL)
WARNING
This book is a dark romance. This book contains scenes that may be triggering to some readers and should only be read by those only 18 and older.
CHAPTER ONE
THORN
THE DAY I GOT voted in as president of The Sons of Devils MC was a day of pure satisfaction. My father had sat at the head of the table most of his life—I had wanted his chair. I wanted the power and position the chair brought. Back then, it was for entirely different reasons. I had wanted the glory and the fucking fame; now, I wasn’t sure what exactly I was seeking, but glory or fame wasn’t it.
Justice? Maybe, but that never came easily in this game. My hand tightens around the wooden gavel that would call the meeting to a start. “God will forgive you, but the brotherhood won’t.” That was the motto that was carved into the handle of the gavel. The words had long ago faded from the many hands that tightened around the piece of wood, but the words would be fresh in our minds—always. We lived by them. You fucked over the club; you were a dead man. There’s no forgiveness for disloyalty. The three most important things were the brotherhood, our bikes, and our woman. That was it—the rest didn’t matter. The rest was fluff, and fluff was just a filler around the important stuff in life.
Right here and right now, I felt a different kind of satisfaction. I hadn’t only become president of the MC I had grown up in; I had given us a place to call church, a place that allowed all our members to come to and feel safe. It came at a high cost, but it was one I had been willing to pay. Everything had a price. It just depended on how far you were willing to go. For me, I was willing to go all the fucking way. I would go to the bone if I needed to.
Blood still stains the outside of my nails. I had scrubbed my hands several times, but it just wasn’t coming off. My gaze travels to Stone, who puts out a smoke beside me. His hands are covered in black leather gloves—hiding the blood that we had spilled only a few hours ago. His dark hair is gelled back tightly, either side of his head is shaven, and if I look closely enough, I swear I can see flecks of blood along his skull.
The smell of fresh paint overpowers everything else, and I take my mind off the body we just buried and focus on the room we sit in above Sally’s Bar. It was perfect for us. Word moved fast, and the bar was never empty, which lined our pockets nicely. I was fucking proud of what I had built. I was proud of what we had built.
Everest cracks his neck from side to side, and I know I’d better put him out of his misery.
The gavel hits the table, and the room falls silent. Stone lights up another smoke and pulls himself closer to the table before I speak.
“The first matter today is a vote on Everest becoming a member.” Only one chair is empty, Ghost is on a run with another prospect, but he’s already given me his vote, all of the other chairs have an occupant, and each one has a vote. The majority wins.
Everest would become a full member today. Stone was my right-hand man, and we had already discussed his loyalty along with one of the older members, Snapper. He was an old-timer who had sat beside my father. I trusted him with my life. So had my father, yet he was dead. I drag my mind away from another thing I didn’t want to reminisce about. Another thing I couldn’t fucking fix.
“He has my vote.” Snapper’s deep voice kicks it all off, and Everest nods at him; his gaze skips to Dice, who’s next to vote.
“Yeah.” Dice’s lip ring tugs up as he grins at Everest before sitting back in his chair to let Trench cast his vote. Trench was only voted in as a full member a month ago. He’s serious as fuck, but he gets the job done. It’s another yes.
It moves around the table, and Snow bobs his head before giving his vote.
“Yeah.”
Stone’s voice cracks as he speaks. “Yeah.”
Everest sits straighter as he stares at me. He’s a big motherfucker, and I like the kid. He towered over most of us at seven feet tall, a giant of a guy.
“Ghost is on a run, but he gave his vote.” The gavel hits the table. “Welcome to the club, brother.” I get up and embrace him.
Everyone howls, and Dice raps the table. “Party tonight!” Dice announces, and I have it already organized with Flood, he was my baby brother, and so far he hadn’t shown any interest in joining the MC, Ma swears she dropped him on his head—that he wasn’t hers, it was a running joke in our house. My da always wanted his three boys to be in the MC with him. I guess we don’t always get what we want.
Dice congratulates him by taking his cut and flicking open the penknife that’s clutched in his hand. The patch with the wording ‘Prospect’ disappears from the cut as Dice cuts it off.
“You’re a one-percenter now.” They embrace again, and I soak up the boy’s enjoyment.
“Here comes the pussy.” Everest slides his cut back on with a huge ass grin on his wide face.
“Sit your big ass down,” Stone speaks from behind me, and everyone does as he says. His voice always sounds like it’s ready to break, it rattles on the ends, but women seem to swoon at his feet because of it. I return to my seat to continue our meeting; the next part won’t go down so well.
“The Bastard Riders are staying in town for a few nights. They have business with someone else, but no starting shit.” I glare at each member. We were protective of our turf, and we sure as fuck should be, but there also had to be a level of respect amongst leaders. One day I might have to go to their turf, so I granted them permission to stay.
“You might see some of them floating around Sally’s bar.” It was an invitation I had extended and knew they would accept.
“You want us to give them a welcome?” Trench asks. The long black leather trench coat he wears under his cut never came off his skinny back. It’s why the nickname Trench stuck.
“Yeah, you can do that,” Stone answers beside me as he puts out another smoke. He isn’t a fan of Trench. I'm not sure what beef the boys had, but I had other things to worry about, and I’m sure it would sort itself out in time.
“We give them blowjobs to welcome them.” Stone sneers.
Trench’s face hardens, and his gaze skips to me; I wasn’t his fucking babysitter, like fuck I was helping him out of this one.
“I’m not gay, man.” Trench glances around the table, Everest grins, and Dice laughs, pissing Trench off further.
“Sucking dick doesn’t make you gay.” Dice shrugs. Snapper frowns at him, and I can’t stop the grin that tugs at my lips.
“Shut the fuck up.” Trench fires at Dice before he pulls at the collar of his jacket and sits back in his seat.
I let them go at it for another minute before I shut it down. “There’s a building across the road that I’ve placed a bid on.” I was always thinking about h
ow to expand our club, moving into areas that could be used as a front for our other underhanded means of gathering funds.
I look at Snapper now. His hair has turned from black to gray over the years. He still keeps himself tight—his tanned and weathered skin is from years on the road.
“The owner might need a little convincing to lower her price.” She was stubborn, and I wasn’t forking out more than I needed to. A widower who liked the good times, that’s what I was hoping Snapper showed, a really good time, so she would decide to play nice.
“I can do that.”
“If it works, it will be a gym that Dice and Ghost will run.” Ghost was still on a run, but he should be arriving shortly. Dice sits up straight and loses the grin he normally sports.
“I’m your man.” He shrugs his shoulders and folds his hands on the table. His blue eyes always look wild in his head, today more so from a night of partying—but I didn't care what he did with his free time; as long as he was here and got the job done, that’s all that mattered.
The double doors rattle before the left one opens, and Ghost walks in, blood seeping from a wound on his head.
“Carter stole the fucking money.” The room is deadly silent as Ghost steps in. His neck and the rim of his face are covered in tribal tattoos, the blood runs down the left side of his face, and I watch it drip onto the floor.
“He knocked me out.” Ghost touches his face before hissing.
Snapper gets up and takes a look at Ghost’s face. He’s become the club's doctor. “What did he hit you with?” Snapper asks.
Ghost still stares at me. “His fucking burner.”
“He has my money?” I speak up.
Stone sparks up beside me again. He’s watching Ghost, too. Stone is like a human lie detector, so I sit back and let him work on Ghost.
“Thorn, I swear to God, he jumped me. He was high as fuck.” His gaze shifts around the room.
Snapper steps away from him before looking at me. “He needs stitches.”
I nod my approval at Snapper to leave and get his equipment. “What I don’t understand is what you’re doing here.”
Ghost touches his face before frowning at me. “I had to tell you what happened.”
I shake my head and stand. “No, you didn’t.” I take measured steps towards him. Snapper comes back in and pauses as I hold out my hand for him to wait.
“Go get my money and bring Carter here.” So I could deal with the Prospect in front of everyone. Stealing from me, the fucking nerve of him. I look to Stone as I pass him, and he nods.
Ghost was telling the truth; it still didn’t erase his stupid decision to come back here first. What did he think? That I would send more men to clean up his fucking mess? That’s not how it worked.
He points at his head. “Can I get this stitched first?”
I shake my head without answering, and he smartly leaves. It’s Snapper’s eyes I have to meet now. “You could have let me stitch up the kid.”
I could have done a lot of things. Snapper doesn’t wait for my response but sits back down. I close the meeting as I spot my ma lingering at the door. She’s pretending she isn’t listening to us. A yellow leaflet in her hand is what she pretends to read.
“See you all later for Everest’s party.” It didn’t matter what was happening; the show must go on. Even with my money missing, I couldn’t stop things.
“Keep the rubber side down,” Dice tells Everest as they leave the room. Another way to say, stay safe on the road. Everest was a big guy, and the first time I saw him ride up, I had thought he was impressive, but I had also thought that he must have eaten asphalt a lot of times.
Snapper and Stone don’t leave, and my mother greets all the boys as they leave before stepping into the room.
“Della, a face I love seeing.” Snapper kisses my ma on either cheek, and she smiles at him. He was the only one who called her Della; anyone else would be holding their balls in their hand for using the nickname.
“You, too.” The fondness was always there.
“I’m off, man.” Stone slaps me on the back as he gets up.
“Are you not going to stay for when Ghost returns?”
“I’m going to make sure Ghost returns.” And that right there was what made him my right-hand man.
My ma squeezes Stone’s arm before embracing me. “You look tired.”
She leans out, and I see it in her dark brown eyes, the knowing. Like she knows her son did wrong only a few hours ago. But, my ma was used to this life; she was used to shoving the ugly aside.
“I’m going downstairs.” Snapper gives my ma a smile before leaving and getting Sally’s ready for opening hours soon.
My ma wasn’t as involved with the MC as she had been when Da was around, so her being here wasn’t a social call. She made those calls to my home daily.
“What’s up?”
“Ash is back.” My ma slaps her hand on her hip that’s clad in leather. She tilts back. “Thorn, he’s your brother.”
I’m glaring at her. I don’t need this shit. I shrug, playing off the irritation that is growing through me rapidly. “What are you telling me for?”
“He needs a job.”
I sneer at Ma. “No.”
“I’m your mother, and I’m telling you, you will give your brother a job.”
I scratch the stubble on my jaw. I hate how her eyes linger on my blood-stained fingers. I needed to go home and clean up.
“He can work behind the bar.” I’m ready to end this conversation.
“He wants in.” My ma knows what she’s asking of me.
“He’ll start as a Prospect.”
She tilts her head, ready to argue, but I’m done talking.
“Prospect or nothing,” I say.
“He’ll take it.”
I sneer again and lean in, placing a kiss on my ma’s cheek. Her heart is in the right place, but Ash won’t just agree to be a Prospect. He was the oldest, and he was meant to be the president after Da, not me.
CHAPTER TWO
BROOKE
MY EYES WIDEN as I reread the text over and over.
Carter- don’t go home.
Don’t go home, is he serious? I have just finished an eight-hour shift at the bar. Where does he expect me to go without at least having a shower?
The people around me begin to walk forward. I glance up and notice that the traffic lights have changed and are signaling for us to cross the street. My pace quickens as I hurry down the sidewalk to our apartment block.
I’m about to hit send when I see an incoming call from my brother. Sliding my finger to the right, I accept the call.
“Carter—"
“Brooke, don’t go home.” His tone is harsh, and not for the first time. I wonder, is he high again?
Keys jangle between my fingers as I yank them out of my coat pocket. I flick through the set in search of the right one.
“Carter, what’s wrong this time? ”
He releases a heavy breath. “I’ll tell you in person, but you have to come meet me.”
Finally, locating the correct key, I push it into the lock of the apartment building door.
“Where are you?”
“For fuck’s sake, Brooke, leave the damn apartment. This isn’t a joke.”
Turning the key, I open the door. “Carter—” I’m ready to tell him to just spit it out already when he cuts me off.
“Ten minutes.”
With quickening steps, my heels click against the concrete as I make my way up the narrow stairs.
“Ten minutes, what?” I ask, breathing heavily.
“Ten minutes before I hit the road, and I won’t be back.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “Carter, are you high?”
“I’ve got a price on my head. If they catch up with me, I’m dead. They could be in the apartment already, Brooke. You can’t go back there.”
I’m about to speak when he cuts the call. For the first time since speaking to Ca
rter, I slow my pace as I reach the third floor. The light near the end of the hall flickers, and my heart rate accelerates. My brother isn’t exactly on the straight and narrow, and I always said it was only a matter of time until he brought trouble to our door.
I shake my head, trying to push that thought away. He’s high, Brooke, I remind myself. His paranoia is kicking in, and I don’t want it to rub off on me.
I make a beeline for my apartment but have to dodge out of the way when my neighbor’s children, Max and Jayda, ride past on scooters. I glance along the row of doors; Tyler is sitting outside room thirty-eight; he flashes me a goofy smile as he smokes a joint.
My shoulders drop, and I blow out, I’m worrying over nothing. The third floor is particularly busy, and the halls are always filled with voices and laughter. Five out of the ten rooms are occupied by young families; their children often play together. I should be fine, but just as a backup, I wave my hand to get Tyler’s attention.
“Hey, did you see anyone strange hanging around today?”
Nodding, he lifts his thumb in the air. “Nothing stranger than any other day.”
Standing taller, I make my way to my apartment, number thirty-three. I run my fingers along the door and its frame. There are no visible signs of a break-in, so I slide the key into the lock and turn. I inch the door open, closing it slowly behind me. I’m met by total darkness. With my back pressed against my door, I feel along the wall for the switch, flicking all five lights on. I drop my bag on the hook before peeling off my jacket.
I know Carter is being paranoid, yet some of his paranoia manages to drip slowly into my mind, and I find myself checking all the rooms making sure I’m alone.
I’m about to enter the small kitchen, the door is partially open, and I swear the gap beside the fridge is darker. My stomach twists, and the air stills in my lungs. I don’t move for ten seconds, and neither does the shadow. My hand hovers over the light switch.