Creed's Honor: Satan Bastards MC Book 1

by Simone Nicholls

  Pressing the ignition button, my bike roared to life, and Kobra and I took off with West running at us, trying in a weak attempt to get us to react. His threats fell on deaf ears.

  Only Kobra and I knew what had happened to his family, and we were taking that to our graves. To ensure West never got peace. Because as much of a monster as I am, I couldn’t kill a woman who I watched grow, or her son, when I was his godfather.

  So I gave them one chance in exchange for a life they deserved if they would never reach out to West. But if they broke that promise, I wouldn’t be giving them a second chance, and they knew that.

  So we rode away, thinking we’d never see West again.

  We Kincaids believe family protects family. We faced everything together.

  Now it’s time you met my daughter. After all, this is not my story. It is hers.

  Perhaps one day, my tale will be told, but this is not the time. This story is about my daughter and a man who thought he would be good enough for my little girl.

  As history has proven, I protect my family with the same ruthless fist that I rule the underworld. I don’t care how bloody it gets in the name of protecting my family.

  I tucked my blonde hair behind my ear as I leaned closer to one of the four open textbooks and pushed my reading glasses up. I knew I had hit my limit as my eyes began to ache. Three straight hours always seemed to be my limit. Still, I wasn’t prepared to give up just yet.

  My placement was right around the corner, and I needed to be prepared for it. When there was a knock on my study door, I didn’t look up.

  My dad gave me everything to provide me with a good start, including my own personal study. I never felt pressure to be a doctor. I wanted to be one. Now, as I was moving closer to my dream, I only wondered—would I be able to succeed at it. Another knock on my door made me curse.

  I said, “Come in,” but I was still fighting to keep studying, even though my back was aching, and my vision was getting blurry.

  “Surrounded by books. What a surprise,” Mum said from the doorway.

  I glanced up, seeing a smile on her face. Mum’s electric blue eyes locked on me, and I could see the pride in them. Society would probably think who was I to be a doctor when I was the daughter of an outlaw family. I once voiced that concern to my mum, and she had said, “Who are you not to be?”

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?” my mum asked, looking slightly nervous, which was why I pushed the textbook away—settling on the decision that my studying was over for the day.

  “Sure,” I said, but even I could hear my nerves. I couldn’t explain it. I just knew my mother, and right now, I could tell there was something wrong.

  “It’s about West.” Her eyes were on me, and I knew she was looking for a reaction, but I didn’t give her one. “He’s out.”

  Just like that, my world froze. I dropped my pen, all my attention now on her.

  “Please tell me Dad isn’t doing anything stupid.” I was panicking, my mind running wild, thinking of my dad’s possible reaction. After all, he’d had four years to dwell on it.

  Mum walked farther into the room, just as I went to get up. “Dad’s not going to kill him,” she reassured me.

  I took a deep breath, but my anxiety still wasn’t eased. Knowing Dad wasn’t going to shoot him point-blank was something, but I knew—and hoped my dad did as well—that if he got life imprisonment, I wouldn’t survive it… especially when it would be my doing.

  I felt my stomach tighten, clenching, a sickness coming through me. “So, Dad’s safe?” I clarified.

  She nodded and gave me another reassuring smile. “I just wanted you to know because he might be a bit quiet tonight.”

  I frowned. “Wait, isn’t Dad going to the valley tonight?” I swear everyone knew that Dad was going to be out of town this weekend. I had just assumed our family dinner would be postponed.

  “Change of plans,” was all Mum said and gave me another smile. “I’ll let you get back to your prep work.”

  I watched Mum walk out of my study, and although my anxiety was high, I had to think clearly. If Dad were in trouble, she would have told me.

  My phone buzzed on the table. I was still slightly in shock before I glanced down, seeing it was Creed.

  He had just earned a position at Dad’s table.

  “Finished banging the textbooks?” Creed had texted.

  A smile spread across my lips. Creed had a way with words.

  “Finished sucking up to my old man?” I sent back.

  There was another knock on my door, but I didn’t respond because I was waiting for the bubbles in the corner of my screen to see what Creed’s comeback would be.

  “Who you talking to?”

  I rolled my eyes. It was Kobra’s tone that made me give him a dry look. He used to be laid-back. He used to be my big fun brother. He was always protective when needed, but he wasn’t permanently pissed off.

  Kobra and I heard it at the same time. The roar of Dad’s bike pulling up the driveway. Kobra gave me one more look before walking out.

  My phone vibrated, and it had locked because I was distracted with Kobra. Creed. What a surprise.

  “Going out of town for a part for the Chevy. Keen?”

  To have a break from the textbooks sounded like the best idea ever. I didn’t know why, but when I was with Creed, I felt relaxed, safe. And I could use those two feelings now, especially knowing West was out, and Dad’s history of keeping a grip on his temper was nearly non-existent.

  Walking out of the study, Dad had just walked in the front door.

  “Dad, I’m heading out with Creed,” I said and watched as his eyes narrowed on me as I spoke. “We’re heading to get parts for the Chevy.”

  “The man has more money than the whole Satan’s Bastard combined and could buy the car done,” Ivy spoke from over the back of the couch, butting her nose into mine and Dad’s conversation. “Yet he keeps doing up some old one, asking, ‘Holly, do you want to come with me to get—insert whatever random part he needs today—for the Chevy’ as an excuse to get you alone.”

  Dad’s opinion of Creed and I hanging out wasn’t high, to begin with, and Ivy was doing her best to make it that little bit worse. This all due to her own experience with a biker.

  “Fine, go, but be back for dinner.” Dad paused, then he looked at Mum, who was sitting with Ivy, before looking back at me. “You can ask Creed too.”

  “Ask Creed what?” I was confused.

  “To dinner, Holly.” Dad took the spare gun from out of the back of his jeans and placed it on the foyer table. He said it like it was apparent, but it wasn’t. Dad had a strict policy on family dinners.

  “He’s probably a vegetarian.” Kobra grunted as he walked out, taking the joint from his mouth. He knew very well Creed wasn’t a vegetarian from club parties. “Why they get on so well,” he added.

  “Yes, Kobra, because I can only have vegetarian friends.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, heading to leave my deluded family, but Dad grabbed my arm as I walked past him. “What?” I sighed, dragging my gaze to meet his.

  “He speeds in that car, you tell me.”

  As if that was going to happen. “He wouldn’t dare after last time.” I shot Ivy a pointed look.

  She had been the one to throw Creed to the lion, known as my father, for speeding—all because I made the rookie mistake of letting her come once.

  “Can I go now?” I asked, and he nodded reluctantly, letting go of my arm. I paused. “Dad?”

  His gaze landed back on me, and I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him side-on. He was shocked at first before he wrapped one arm around me.

  “Thank you,” I whispered in his ear before pulling back.

  He frowned slightly. “This for letting Creed come for dinner?”

  “No.” And I let go of him. “It’s for not ending up in prison today.” I gave him a small smile and then walked around him. He didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to be
said—the past had no reason to be in the present.

  “Kobra!” I shouted for my brother’s attention across the lot. Textbooks were weighing me down. My first semester at university and I was drowning under the workload. Adjusting the strap of the bag, which was filled with print offs, I could see Kobra wasn’t leaving the conversation he was having with a club girl, so I picked up the textbooks from the picnic table, dropped one, and bent over to pick it up. As I did, the bag with my papers slipped down my shoulder to the ground and broke open. I had spent two long hours printing them all off, and now my printouts were spread across the greasy concrete.

  Groaning, I put the textbooks down and started collecting the course work. This wouldn’t have happened if I had done two loads from the car. But no, me saving time, I forced myself to carry at least ten kilograms of books and a bag weighing the same as a cannonball.

  I sat on my knees, my feet stinging with pain, reminding me I had just spent the last five hours on them without sitting down or resting. Now I was on the ground, and I didn’t want to get up. Looking around at the scattered paperwork, I guess I was getting my wish.

  As I continued to collect the paperwork, I felt someone kneel beside me. That was when I caught a glimpse of a tattooed hand, helping with the mess.

  “Took your time, as usual. I swear to God, you are never there when I need you.” I huffed, still trying to collect the ruined papers. I took my anger out on my brother like it was all his fault.

  “Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t think we’ve met.”

  My head snapped to the side when I heard that deep rough voice. It wasn’t my brother’s voice, that’s for sure. It was then that I look up and my body flooded with a reaction I wasn’t expecting nor was I used to, but one look into his smouldering deep ash-grey eyes, and I was pulled in. His shirt was low cut, showing off his desirable muscles, but it was his tattoos that struck me. I was used to muscular tattooed men. I mean, I grew up around them. But I wasn’t used to this type of man.

  One look at his tattoos and I knew they were created by an artist, not a backyard wannabe tattoo person or his cellmate who had made a tattoo gun. No. This man’s tattoos were beautifully finished pieces of art. Whoever did them knew what they were doing.

  Now bikers, they all had this sex appeal based on being “rough” around the edges. This man, if he weren’t wearing a club cut, I would have bet he had just left a photoshoot. He had those player looks, not the rough looks.

  This led me to one conclusion—he was new.

  “Sorry,” I finally bit out. “I thought you were—”

  “Yeah, man, clearly.” He smirked at me, and it was mind-blowing. Like, I couldn’t think a clear sentence in my head. I couldn’t even correct him. It was as if I were meeting Machine Gun Kelly—that was how awe-struck I was.

  He frowned for a moment. “Thought universities did their course work online now,” he said. He was watching, his stunning gaze still locked on me.

  “They do. I just like hard copies.” My voice came out strained. That was when I saw movement over his shoulder, and I saw my dad storming towards us.

  This boy allowed his gaze to roam over me, but when he looked me in the eyes again, I swear something inside me melted. And I didn’t even know that was possible.

  “I know you’ve got a boyfriend, but you can have my number if you like?” His eyes stayed locked with mine, but it was his smirk that seemed to do wild things to me. “You know, in case you are ready to upgrade to a real relationship.”

  I couldn’t stop the smile, mainly because my dad was standing behind him with the look that would match the expression of wrath on one of the four horsemen’s face.

  “Ain’t no way my daughter is ending up in your bed, prospect.” Dad harshly growled down at him, and he didn’t even glance back to address Dad.

  His eyes did widen slightly, though, when he heard Dad’s growl.

  “Hade’s daughter?” he said, looking directly at me.

  I just nodded my head with a wide smile.

  He cursed under his breath, running a hand over his head before looking back at me.

  “My luck, but fuck, you’d be worth the death wish.” He then winked at me, and I don’t think he was surprised when Dad threw the wrench that he had been holding at him.

  I giggled, and that was what sparked my dad to go from mad to furious.

  “Fuck off now, Creed, before I make sure you never wear a rocker.” Dad roared and Creed, being the expected biker, clearly had an ego because he winked at me again, not even caring that Dad would be making his life harder by even speaking to me.

  I liked to think I was immune to bikers—their charm, alpha tendencies, and those tattoos. I was sixteen when my sister, Ivy, declared at the family table that there was something wrong with me because I didn’t have a crush on any of Dad’s members. Ivy fell head over heels in love with one of Dad’s men, Taron, when she was fourteen. Long story short—he left to another table. It wasn’t Dad’s influence, either. Hell, Dad didn’t know about Ivy’s crush, nor did he know that Ivy started fucking him on her sixteenth birthday. They didn’t end up keeping the relationship behind Dad’s back, either. Nope, they went public.

  It was within a year of going public that Taron decided a relationship wasn’t for him. He ended things just before he patched to another table.

  So I turned sixteen and still hadn’t fallen for one of Dad’s men, so Ivy thought I was an alien on this point.

  To be honest, not one biker interested me.

  Until Creed Winston.

  As I snuck a glance at him—after remembering the first time we met—I’d have to say that my feelings for him had grown over the years. His flawless model looks were a bit more rough-hewn now, as he had gotten into more than his fair share of fights. Also, he was the enforcer, so it was his role in the club to keep the peace, and when members would fight, he had to break them up.

  So, needless to say, he had taken more than a few punches to the body while getting into fistfights. To be a good enforcer in the club, a biker needed three things. One, he couldn’t be scared of getting his hands dirty. He had to be prepared to be violent when called upon, and everyone knew enforcers always had rage boiling within them twenty-four seven, which meant the need to be violent wasn’t hard for them.

  While they needed to be able to get into fights, they also had to stop members from fighting among themselves. Dad would only allow the members to get so much rage out, but when it crossed a line, Creed would step in—as expected. Usually, that meant Creed would step in when a member had broken a bottle or pulled a gun.

  Enforcers also had to be muscular, and Creed—he was built like a tank. The muscles weren’t for show, either. They were to ensure that when Creed threw a punch, a member didn’t swing one back. The fact Creed was big played a part in stopping members too. They all knew he had the physical ability to rip two full-grown members apart, and sometimes up to three men.

  Also, the enforcers were meant to have a fearless attitude.

  Creed met all the requirements, not just to make a good enforcer but a great one. Dad knew this early on. I heard him admit it to Kobra one night when they thought I wasn’t around.

  Dad being Dad hated Creed for two solid years. All because Creed wasn’t afraid to be my friend, even though Dad loathed it. By the third year, Dad’s hatred towards Creed turned to annoyance. Then, by the end of that year, Dad sort of admired Creed. Why? And how could Dad go from hating a man to admiring him?

  It was because Creed stuck by his rules and didn’t cave to pressure—even when Dad made his life harder for nearly three years when Creed could have easily just stopped talking to me.

  Still now, as I looked at him, I wondered why. Why did he put up with Kobra’s and Dad’s shit just to remain my friend? Creed wasn’t in love with me. He just liked me. He was the only man ever to put me before the club and the need to rank up in the club.

  Dad had seen members use Ivy to climb the ranks at his table
. I think that was why Dad was harder on Creed because of what happened with Taron.

  Regardless, right now was a perfect example of Creed and my friendship. Windows down, music pounding, and Creed currently doing the speed limit because of Dad’s last lecture—which was all thanks to Ivy.

  Creed turned the radio volume down with his tattooed fingers, and his eyes flashed off the road and over to me.

  “It’s been nearly ten minutes,” he said and looked back at the road.

  “Ten minutes? Since what?” I asked.

  He glanced at me again. “Of you staring at me.” The corner of his lips twitched. “You checking me out, Doc?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a doctor.”

  His gaze flashed from the road to me. “But you will be.”

  I couldn’t explain the feeling that flooded me hearing that. Even since I told him that I was studying medicine, he’d nicknamed me Doc. And every time he called me Doc, I pointed out I wasn’t one, and yet he had this undying faith that I would be one day.

  Having someone that wasn’t my blood believe in my dream of being a doctor—well, it gave me an indescribable feeling. Creed’s faith in me was another thing that made my love for him stronger. I had passed the point of lying to myself that I didn’t feel something for Creed—a long time ago.

  I now could admit to myself that I loved Creed. But I loved him enough to know I wasn’t meant to be with him. The woman he needed and the woman I was, well, they weren’t the same, and it sucked every time I thought that.

  I saw what loving a biker did to your heart. I watched Ivy break into small pieces, and she still wasn’t who she used to be before Taron. She gave a bit of herself to Taron, and he rode out with it, leaving her behind, and time hadn’t healed her.