by Jessica Ames
Fallen Rider
A Lost Saxons Novel #7
Jessica Ames
Copyright © 2020 by Jessica Ames
www.jessicaamesauthor.com
Fallen Rider is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Editing by Charisse Sayers
Proofreading by Gem’s Precise Proofreads
Cover design by Desire Premade Covers by Jessica Ames
Beta readers: Lynne Garlick, Allisyn Pendleton, Clara Martinez Turco, Emily Vaughan
Cover image copyright © 2020
Please note this book contains material aimed at an adult audience, including sex, violence and bad language.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for use only, then you should return it to the seller and please purchase your own copy.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under Copyright Act 1911 and the Copyright Act 1988, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior express, written consent of the author.
This book is covered under the United Kingdom’s Copyright Laws. For more information visit: www.gov.uk/copyright/overview.
To V, who always loves my boys and has been an amazing friend
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Get a free book and exclusive content
Enjoyed this book?
Also by Jessica Ames
About the Author
Chapter One
I’m being followed. My eyes slide to the side mirror of my car and I see the bike behind me.
Rabbit.
He’s been on my tail all week, so he’s not out of place, but it’s not him I’m looking at. It’s the second bike that’s pulled in just behind him.
I’m not sure if he’s noticed the rider yet, but I hope he’s not that unobservant. My life is in his hands, after all.
I get my answer when he waves the rider past him. Then I’m signalled to pull over. I do, but only because I recognise the large frame sitting astride the second Harley as my brother, Jem.
What does he want?
I guide the car to the side of the road. Then I slip it into neutral and pull the handbrake up. Turning a little in my seat as my brother approaches the vehicle, I watch him tug his helmet off his head as he walks.
Like my other two brothers, Jem is huge. He’s well over six-foot tall, probably standing around six-three, and he’s built like a tank. He has blond hair that he’s growing again and is covered in tattoos. He makes a fearsome sight—at least he would if I hadn’t grown up with him and didn’t know all his weaknesses.
I lower the window down as he appears at the side of the car and glance at him expectantly. The Club—including my brothers—don’t usually make a habit of pulling my car over on a busy street, so it must be important.
“I’ve been calling you for the last ten minutes. Why the fuck didn’t you answer?” Jem demands.
His tone pisses me off. I reach into my handbag on the passenger seat and see I do have several missed video calls from him. It must have been important if he called.
I raise my hands and sign, “I was driving.”
“You didn’t notice it going off?”
“No, I didn’t, and quit yelling at me. I’m mute, not deaf. I can hear you.”
Jem grits his teeth and I can tell it’s taking all his control not to explode at me.
“You keep your phone on you and the sound up high at all times, Mackenzie. Do you understand? We have to be able to contact you.”
I bristle at the bossiness in his voice. “I’m not one of your little prospects, Jem. You can’t order me around.”
My hands move sharply, forming the signs with jerky, angry motions that indicate how irritated I am. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care about my snit, which is more infuriating than if he’d reacted.
I hate being ignored.
I watch as he drags his fingers through his hair.
“Don’t bust my balls today, okay?”
His tone immediately puts me on alert. For all Jem’s faults, he’s usually the most laid-back of my three brothers.
“What’s going on?” I demand. “Why did you pull me over?”
He sighs, his gaze shifting back to the road as he answers me. “You need to come to the clubhouse.”
My stomach clenches. This is not happening again. No way. Can’t he see I’m dressed for work? I can’t just drop everything and run to the clubhouse every time they think danger is looming. This is the third time in as many weeks. It’s getting old, fast.
I shouldn’t push him when he’s clearly stressed, though. I’m also not about to lie down and do as I’m told because Jem demands it either.
“Why?”
“Because you need to, Mackenzie,” is his infuriating response.
I grit my teeth and huff in frustration. “Another lockdown?” I sign.
He nods and bile churns in my gut. No way am I going in for another lockdown. I’m tired of being stuck in that damned clubhouse.
I shake my head.
“No.” My hands move abruptly. “No more lockdowns. I have to go to work today or they’ll fire me, and I need my job.”
The Club doesn’t consider the fact the real world doesn’t care if we’re being hunted by an enemy. It cares about the fact I’ve had nine days off in the past three weeks for no reason. My boss tries to be understanding, but there’s a limit to that.
I’m pretty sure if I don’t come in this time, I’m going to lose my job, and that can’t happen. I need it.
I also happen to like it.
They’re good people and accommodating. Most of the staff there have gone out of their way to learn British Sign Language, so I can communicate without using text-to-speak on my phone or tablet, or simply writing messages. I feel included there, and it took me a long time to find a job that would take someone who couldn’t speak. Discrimination shouldn’t happen, but in a town as small as Kingsley, it’s rampant.
That aside, I can’t afford to lose my job. I rent a small flat in town that costs me an arm and a leg because my brothers wouldn’t let me rent anywhere they deemed ‘unsafe’, which, in Kingsley, happens to be three quarters of the town.
I probably should have shared a place or stayed living with Mum, but I’m twenty-eight and I needed my own space. Mum babies me far too much. In fact, my entire family does. I know they mean well, but between Logan, Jem and Adam, I feel stifled all the time. I don’t know how Beth and Piper put up with my eldest brothers’ antics at all.
“If th
ey fire you, the Club will find you a new job.”
Jem’s getting impatient now. I can tell by the way he’s twitching. He’s also anxious. His eyes keep scanning our surroundings, as if he’s expecting trouble.
I should, for that reason, let this go, but I can’t.
I need control of my own life, and the Club is coming between that ability.
“I don’t want the Club to find me a job. I want to keep the job I have.”
I understand they’re cautious after Weed was dumped at the back gates of the clubhouse beat to hell. I understand the war with the Reapers puts everyone on edge, but life has to go on. It doesn’t do anyone any good to hide in the shadows, scared of everything. I’m getting tired of not being able to live my life normally—well, as normally as you can when your entire family are members of a motorcycle club.
“Kenz…”
“No,” I sign. “This isn’t happening again, Jem. I don’t care if the entire Reapers’ club has taken position outside the clubhouse, I need to go to work.”
He stares at me a beat, and I can see the frustration mounting in his expression. He reaches through the window and tugs my keys free of the ignition.
“Not today you don’t.”
I open my mouth, gawking at the audacity of what he just did, but he doesn’t wait for my reaction. He walks back towards his bike, holding my car keys between two fingers.
Seriously?
This is what it’s come to?
I count back from ten, but only reach seven before my blood pressure goes through the roof. I’m out of my car before I consider what I’m doing and round on my brother, my hand held out. I don’t sign what I want. I don’t need to. My open hand makes it clear I want my keys back right fucking now.
He doesn’t oblige, so I have to give him the words. “Give me my keys back.”
“Not unless you’re coming to the clubhouse.”
I clench my jaw tightly and resist the urge to strangle him. How is it possible to love someone so much, but want to kill them at the same time?
“I’m safe at work, and I have Rabbit tailing me.”
My attempt to allay his fears do nothing. He just stares at me some more, his arms folded over his chest.
Pig-headed bastard.
Sometimes, I wish I could speak, just so I could let all my irritation out, but from the moment I was born I’ve never made a single vocal sound. That’s not going to suddenly change twenty-eight years later.
“Jem!”
He scowls at me. “I don’t give a fuck if Rabbit is tailing you, Kenz. You could get hurt—worse than hurt. The Reapers are serious about this war, which means we have to be careful.”
“But Rabbit—”
“Can’t do shit against guns or whatever else. Quit fighting me on this.”
Rabbit watches the whole thing silently, like a good little prospect. Seen but never heard. He doesn’t offer any support or suggest he is capable of protecting me. Nor does he seem offended by Jem’s lack of enthusiasm towards him taking care of me.
Arse.
“You don’t have anything to add?” I sign at Rabbit, but he just stares at me. I scowl and turn back to my brother. “It’s been three weeks, Jem. Nothing has happened since they declared we’re at war. Why do you think they’re suddenly going to strike us now?”
He tightens his jaw, the last modicum of patience he has wearing down to the wire.
“Prez wants everyone on lockdown. Since you’re a part of this family, that means you too.”
It does, but it also doesn’t answer my query. I’m used to the Club dodging even the most basic questions, as if they think shedding secrets will undo them. But it doesn’t help my temper, which I fully inherited from my mum’s side of the family.
I throw my hands up in the air in a fit of rage.
Then I sign, “This is ridiculous.”
He stares at me, his jaw working, then he says, “Two Reapers were spotted at the edge of town. I don’t want to scare you, but that is the reality we’re looking at. I can’t have you running around Kingsley with those bastards out there, Kenz.”
The Reapers are here? My gaze slides to the landscape, taking in the high-rises that make up the backdrop of Kingsley, and beyond to the skeletal remains of the old collieries that were once the lifeblood of the town as if I expect our enemy to appear. All I see is traffic moving and people getting on with their day.
Even so, a shiver runs up my spine.
On the edge of our territory seems too close to home for comfort.
I also realise now why Jem was so pissed I didn’t answer my phone. For a brief moment, he must have thought something had happened to me.
This tempers my mood a little—but only a little.
“Fine,” I sign, but I can’t help tacking on, “If I lose my job you’d better find me something else, Jem. I mean it.”
His voice softens as he peers down at me. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you, no matter what happens.”
I scowl at him. Is that supposed to make me feel better? It doesn’t.
“Am I following you back?” I demand, my mouth pulled into a tight, irritable line.
He watches my hands move before he answers. Like all my family, Jem is proficient in British Sign Language—a lot of the Club is, in fact. Most learnt it when I was young, but the newer members and old ladies have also taken it upon themselves to have lessons. It’s things like this that remind me how lucky I am to have people who genuinely love and care about me.
At least this is what I’m telling myself while trying not to explode at my brother.
“Yeah, stick close to me.”
I nod once and hold my hands out for my keys. He eyes me, then drops them into my open palm. I close my fingers around them and ignore the urge to drive to work instead. Jem genuinely seems worried, which has my own sense of self-preservation mounting. Maybe there is something to be concerned about this time—unlike the other times.
As I start to turn away, Jem grabs my arm, pulling me up short. “I know this is shit, believe me, I know how frustrating this is, Kenzie, but there’s a lot of pressure on the Club to keep everyone safe. Just bear with us while we’re finding our feet with the Reapers, okay? If anything happens to you or the other women, I’d never be able to live with it.”
All fight leaves me at the sincerity in his tone as I realise the pressure he and the other men must be under. He doesn’t need me acting like a brat.
I pocket my keys, so I can sign, “I know.”
He kisses my forehead. “Your safety is paramount, do you understand?”
I do, but it doesn’t make the situation suck any less.
I head over to my car and climb back in, pushing the keys into the ignition. I wait while my brother reclaims his bike and then I follow Jem, with Rabbit tailing me.
My boss is going to hit the roof when I message him to tell him I’m not coming in. Again. I’m definitely going to be out of a job. The thought makes my gut roll, but I also can’t work if I’m dead or taken by the Reapers. As much as I hate to admit it, this has to happen.
The drive back is not the most comfortable. I keep my eyes flicking between the road and my surroundings, half expecting a Reaper to appear.
Nothing happens, though, other than getting stuck for a few minutes in the rush hour traffic.
By the time we get back to the clubhouse, I’m feeling on edge, and it’s almost a relief to go through the gates—to safety.
As we pass the security hut, Lucas steps out to watch us and I give him a wave in acknowledgement. All I receive back is a jut of his chin.
These men… where do they get them from?
Jem and Rabbit head for the bike parking area while I try to find a space in the main car park. There are vehicles everywhere, suggesting I’m among the last of the family to arrive.
As I drive around, I see my sister’s sporty little vehicle dumped, as usual, in a place that makes it awkward for other cars to get around her. Beth’
s car is here, too, as is Jamie’s. I don’t see Piper or Paige’s, but if my brother came to get me, it’s safe to assume Piper is already here.
I climb out of the car and lock it, then walk towards my brother who is waiting for me, his helmet off, his bike parked up.
“How long am I going to be stuck here this time?” I ask.
“You know this shit isn’t our idea of fun either, right?” Jem says.
“Yeah, I got that, but—”
“But nothing. We’re going to do what we have to do to keep you safe. I don’t give a shit if that pisses you off.”
I roll my eyes, my mood going south again fast.
Arsehole.
Jem’s gaze suddenly goes over my head and I watch his entire body tense. Then I hear a pop sound. Before I can react, I’m pushed down to the ground, the full weight of my enormous brother coming down on top of me.
Pain ricochets through my chest and left arm as I’m slammed into the tarmac beneath me. I can’t see what’s happening, but my brother cocoons me with his body as pops continue to ring out. I can hardly draw air in past his weight and I can’t see anything but the line of bikes to the side of me, which is disorientating.
Something pings off the metal near us, and then a rear light on one of the bikes explodes. Jem pulls me closer under him, trying his best to protect me.
Bullets…
It’s bullets.
We’re being fired at.
I don’t know where this thought comes from or how I register that we’re being shot at, but as soon as it floats across my brain, I know I’m right. We are being shot at and my idiot big brother is putting himself in the firing line to protect me.
I curl into a tighter ball as a ping sounds near to us and I plead with the universe to protect my brother, to protect Rabbit and Lucas, and anyone else in the line of fire.