Jax and Jokers: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel

by Kristine Allen

  JAX AND JOKERS, 1st Edition Copyright 2020 by Kristine Allen, Demented Sons Publishing.

  All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN-13: 9798621683900

  Published in the United States of America. First published in March, 2020.

  Cover Design: Clarise Tan, CT Cover Creations, www.ctcovercreations.com

  Photographer: Marcus Sjöfjord

  Cover Model: Marcus Sjöfjord

  Editing: Olivia Ventura, Hot Tree Editing, www.hottreepublishing.com

  The purchase of this e-book, or book, allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. This does not include the right to resell, distribute, print or transfer this book, in whole or in part to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. For information, contact the author at kristine.allen.author@gmail.com. Thank you for supporting this author and her rights.

  Warning: This book may contain offensive language, violence, adult and sexual situations. Mature audiences only, 18+ years of age.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Other Books by Kristine Allen

  About the Author

  To my fellow authors. Thank you for writing the words I love. You inspire me to make every book better than my last.

  “Are you sure this is what you want to do? You just got here, bro,” Lock said to me. He looked heartbroken, and it made me feel like a real dick. After all, I’d moved down to Texas to be near him and my parents. Then I was up and hauling ass.

  “Yeah. It’s really good money. It will help me save up to buy a place of my own.” I shrugged.

  “What’s wrong with staying here? We have an extra room; it’s not like you’re intruding. Besides, Presley and Raiven love having you here.” And there was the problem.

  Lock was trying really hard to convince me to stay. What he didn’t understand, and I could never tell him, was that it was a knife to the heart every time I saw him and Raiven together. I’d known it was going to be a mistake moving down, but between him and my parents, they’d pressured me to relocate.

  Not that I didn’t want to be near my family. It was simply complicated.

  When Lock had been taken during his move from Iowa to Texas, I’d nearly lost my fucking mind. Not only was he my brother in the club, he was my baby brother by blood. My best friend growing up. It had been a letdown when the little fucker joined the army instead of the Marine Corps. I’d thought we’d always be together, but he’d gone the opposite direction. I’d finally been whole again when he came home and joined the Demented Sons.

  “Maybe I’m having a harder time adjusting to life down here than you are,” I offered up, knowing it was absolute crap.

  After losing Presley’s mom, he’d been barely hanging on. He’d told me he needed to leave Iowa. I’d understood his need for a new environment, and I’d been on board with his move. But I hated it at the same time.

  Then everything went to shit on the way down.

  To say Lock getting taken by a rival club was enough to drive me insane was an understatement. I was a fucking basket case inside.

  On top of dealing with my own grief, I’d comforted Raiven and been there for her and Presley while everyone looked for him. It wasn’t like I set out to have feelings for her, but I sure as hell did.

  “Then wouldn’t being around your family help with the transition? I mean, you were supposed to work at the shop with me. We do really well there. Besides, we split the proceeds from the sale of the house up in Iowa so you’re not broke.” Smoke was pissed at me too, because he’d held off hiring anyone since he thought I was supposed to work as their frame and body man at the shop.

  “Lock, I didn’t say I was broke, but I want a really good down payment. Shit is a lot more expensive around here than it was back in Iowa. I don’t want to be struggling when I finally get a place.” It was a flimsy as fuck excuse, but I was full of them. I had a fat nest egg from when I was in the Marines because I rarely spent money. I’d listened to one of my drill sergeants and started investing and saving right away. It had done me good over the years. But he didn’t need to know that.

  He ran a frustrated hand through the mop of dirty-blond hair, leaving it sticking up in all directions on his head. It would’ve been comical any other time. “How long will you be gone?”

  “It’s fourteen days on, fourteen days off for now. I may switch to twenty-eight on, twenty-eight off later. I’m not sure.” What I wasn’t telling him was that I’d be staying at our parents’ place, the clubhouse, or anywhere but their house on my home rotations. If I had to listen to them fucking one more goddamn time, I might stab myself in the ears with a screwdriver. I still remembered the feel of her in my arms as I held her sobbing form time after time. Back when we didn’t know if we’d ever see Lock again.

  I needed to forget. Badly.

  “Fuck,” he sighed. “Well, that’s better than months at a time, I guess.”

  But was it? Shit, I hated that I’d let myself develop feelings for Lock’s woman. Well, she wasn’t actually his woman when I started getting attached to her, but she sure as hell was now. Pregnant with his kid too. Granted, there was a chance the kid wasn’t his, but he was accepting it as his already.

  “Look….” I hesitated as I stared off to the side. It was too hard to meet his eyes. “You and Raiven are just getting started. You don’t need me all up your ass and tagging along as a third wheel. New relationships are hard enough as it is. This will give you time to really get to know each other.”

  He shook his head and dropped it forward. His knuckles rested on his hips. He looked tired, like maybe he was overdoing it. He still hadn’t regained all his bulk back after his ordeal, but to the average person, he might look fine.

  “You okay? Maybe you shouldn’t be working yourself so h
ard. You’re working long hours at the shop, you work out on your lunch hour, and sometimes before and after work. It’s okay to rest and breathe every so often, you know.” I saw him wince at my words.

  “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?” I asked, exasperated.

  “I never want to be weak again.” He swallowed hard. “When I came back like a weak fucking skeleton, it was one of the worst feelings of my life. What the hell Raiven saw in me after that, I’ll never know.” His words were quiet, anguished.

  “Stop it. Stop it right fucking now. She didn’t worry about some buff-ass dude. She wasn’t sitting here crying that she hoped you came back looking all fine as fuck. She worried about you surviving. She worried about Stefano breaking you. There was some kind of cosmic shit at work with you two that brought you together. It was more than looks, bro. And as far as you being weak? That’s bullshit. You’re the strongest motherfucker I know. You survived a situation that many wouldn’t have. So be thankful for what you have and lean on your brothers when you need strength. That’s what we’re all here for.” My lecture done, I huffed and picked up my bag. Though the words hurt to say, I knew it was the truth. Slinging it over my shoulder, I procrastinated taking the last few steps out the door.

  “But my most important brother is leaving me,” he mumbled.

  “No, I’m not. I’m going to work. I’m coming back, little brother,” I promised.

  “I don’t want you to go.” His jaw was working hard as he clenched and unclenched in frustration.

  “I don’t either, but I need to.” Stepping toward him, I embraced him, and he wrapped both arms around me. Minutes ticked by as he clung to me. Finally, he cleared his throat and stepped back.

  “Be safe, Jaxon.”

  “Always,” I replied and walked out the door.

  “Keep Away”—Godsmack

  Months later…

  Every rotation home was torture.

  This one had been worse than most. Starting with Check and going downhill from there. What a clusterfuck.

  I needed to get the hell out of Dodge. Even though Slice wasn’t back from the hospital with Drew yet, we knew he was going to be okay. More bullshit the club was trying to deal with, and I was running. Not because I was afraid of the punk-ass motherfuckers who were dealing shit to our club, but because of my inability to deal with my fucking emotions.

  What a pussy thing to admit. That I couldn’t shut off my goddamn feelings. My balls might be shriveling up, because I was pretty sure I was growing a vagina.

  I was supposed to head back to the platform the next day. There wasn’t much I’d be able to do overnight, and I didn’t want to hang out at the clubhouse. It didn’t hurt half as bad when I found out my ex was fucking Butch as it did watching Lock and Raiven together. I had shit luck when it came to the women I fell for. Thankfully, I had a legitimate excuse to leave.

  I walked over to Smoke. “Hey, P, I’m heading back out to the rig tomorrow morning. Do you need anything from me tonight?”

  “No, brother, we’re good. But are you?” He gave me a look that said he saw more than I realized.

  Swallowing hard, I glanced over to Lock, who had his arm flung around his wife’s shoulders. Fuck, the fact that they were married now made me want to demolish something. Then I bit my lip and returned my gaze to him. “Yeah, everything is good, bro. Just wondering if I did the right thing moving down here.” I shrugged and shoved my hands in my pockets. I didn’t know why I admitted that to him. He looked like he wanted to push the subject, so I took a step backward toward the door.

  “Well, if you ever need to talk, know that I’m always here,” he offered. I believed him, but there was no way I’d ever admit what was going through my head. I’d fake it the best I could. Kind of like the day they got married.

  “Thanks, Prez, I appreciate it. I’m going to hang out at my folks’ with my niece and nephew tonight. I’ll be leaving straight from there in the morning.”

  “Sure. I’m going to have Radar go with you. His place is on the way to your parents’ place.”

  “Naw, P, I’m good.”

  “That wasn’t a request,” he said firmly. “Radar! Come here!”

  Radar jogged over. “Yeah, P?”

  “I want you to ride with Gunny. He’s going to his parents’ place, and your place isn’t far from there. No one rides alone until we find out who’s behind all this shit.” He wasn’t backing down on it, and I nodded with resignation.

  “Roger that. Let me grab my bag.” Radar grabbed it out of one of the booths, said his goodbyes, then returned to where I waited.

  “Let’s go, you sexy Viking.” He shoulder bumped me, and I shook my head with a grin. Radar had become a pretty good friend and brother since I’d been down here. Of all of them, he seemed to understand my need to be alone sometimes. Even if he didn’t know why.

  Giving a last wave, we went out to the bikes. Once we shoved our backpacks in our saddlebags, I hesitated for a second. Then I scanned the area absently and forced out, “Hey, I need to make a few stops on the way. I’d, uh, rather be alone.”

  As soon as I looked at his grinning face, I knew he’d misinterpreted what I meant by that. Far be it from me to correct him, though. Instead, I rolled with it and shot him a smirk.

  “Ahh, so you got a woman around here somewhere? That why you’re always so scarce lately?” he teased as he got on his bike.

  “Nah, not like you’re thinking,” I hedged, not wanting to out-and-out lie to my brother.

  “It’s okay. I got you. Where you wanna part ways? I’m still heading home. It’s been a long couple of days.” He sobered. Hell, he wasn’t kidding. We’d buried our brother, then damn near had the prez’s chick abducted, and a prospect stabbed. All in the same day. Fuck, shit was getting stupid lately. It made me feel guilty about leaving, but I reminded myself it was only a day early.

  “Think I’ll grab a bite to eat at the diner in Georgetown, so I planned on cutting across on 29 then stopping. I’ll head to my parents’ after that,” I said before pulling my helmet over my head.

  He nodded, then started his bike. I followed suit. We pulled out together and made our way down the road. Riding side by side, our bikes ate up the road. Once we hit Georgetown, I motioned that I was dropping off. He racked his pipes and kept going.

  After backing my bike in, I ripped off my helmet and sighed. The sun had set, and the glow of the diner’s lights shone out and left a warm glow to where my bike was parked. Glancing at my watch, I saw that I had about forty-five minutes before they closed. If I was gonna eat, I’d better hurry.

  The bell over the door rang as I pushed it open. There was an older guy having a cup of coffee at the counter. He was talking to the waitress as she refilled salt and pepper shakers. She was grinning at him but glanced my way with a curve of her pink lips.

  “Sit anywhere you like,” her husky voice rang out. My cock jumped a little in my jeans, and I gave her a second look. Dark hair in a sleek ponytail, dark eyeliner like an old Hollywood movie star, and some kind of tattoo peeking out on her inner forearm with each flick of her wrist had my eyes narrowing and my heart pounding.

  Jesus Christ, she looked like Raiven with less ink. Shaking my head, I went to sit at a booth in the corner.

  I didn’t need to look at the menu. I’d been there several times since moving down to Texas. Except I sure as hell didn’t recognize her. She had to be new there. Unless I’d coincidently not come in during her days or shifts. Then again, it had been a while since I’d been in to eat. Taking my phone out, I shot a message to my parents, telling them I’d stop by after I ate.

  “What’ll it be, handsome?” I looked up from my phone. Again, I was struck with her similarities to Raiven. Except instead of bright blue eyes, a smokier version stared back at me. Her lips were a little fuller, hair more of a mocha than near-black, and there was a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. They still could’ve passed for sisters.
>
  Her smirk told me she knew I’d been studying her, but I doubted if she knew exactly where my head was. Hell, I didn’t know where my head was, but I knew where I wanted my dick to be.

  “I’ll take the country-fried steak.” My eyes lit on her nametag that read Avery.

  “Want sweet tea with that?”

  “God, no.” What was it with people in Texas and sweet tea? That shit was disgusting.

  She quirked a brow at me. “Too sweet for you? Like something a little sassier?”

  Deciding she’d be the perfect substitute, the corner of my mouth rose in a half-smile. “Something like that. I’ll take a water, Avery.” Enjoying the feel of her name on my tongue, I ran my tongue along my bottom lip. The thought of something else on my tongue had me shifting in my seat.

  “Will that be all?” she drawled. A cocky tip of her head followed as she waited for my answer.

  “Yeah.” I actually grinned at her. She was feisty in a sassy, southern way, yet reminded me so much of Raiven it was insane.

  As she sashayed behind the counter and rang the old-fashioned bell, I watched her hips sway. When she leaned into the window to holler at the cook, it was impossible to pull my eyes from her ass in those tight jeans.

  The sound of a scraping stool pulled my attention from her to the old guy. Though he tried to be quiet, I could hear him across the quiet diner. “You gonna be okay here alone, Miss Avery?”

  A sweet smile curled her lips as her face softened. “Mr. Brown, I’ll be fine. José is here.” She thumbed a finger toward the kitchen, then loudly whispered behind her hand. “And I’m pretty sure that one is harmless.”

  He shot me a suspicious look and narrowed his eyes. I wanted to laugh. Other than being covered in tattoos and riding a bike, I didn’t know what his problem with me could be. I wasn’t even wearing my cut—I’d secured it with Smoke since I’d be out of town. Finally, he nodded and shuffled out of the diner with one last glare in my direction as he opened the door.