by K E Osborn
K E Osborn
Allegiance
The Chicago Defiance MC Series Book 8
K E Osborn
Copyright 2020 K E Osborn
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.
This book contains triggers of a violent and sexual nature.
If you, or anyone you know needs help, do not hesitate to seek it. There is information at the end of the book, or you can click here.
ISBN: 978-0648718413
Book design by Swish Design & Editing
Editing by Swish Design & Editing
Proofreading by Swish Design & Editing
Cover design by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover By Design
Cover Image Copyright 2020
All rights reserved
This life is going nowhere.
My job—Sergeant At Arms of the Chicago Defiance MC.
My mood—hidden from my brothers for fear of being outcast.
They have it all.
And I’m the odd man out.
This club is full of life and love, yet I’m a brother living a solitary existence.
But when a mysterious woman rocks my world, will I change mine to suit hers?
This story isn’t about the lies we tell ourselves—it’s manipulating, abusing, deceiving, and hurtful.
She thinks she knows me?
But then again, do I really know her?
The truth will rock the foundations of Defiance.
And rip apart my soul.
But where will your allegiance lie?
From International Bestselling Author KE Osborn comes the final book in the Chicago Defiance Series.
To everyone who loved the Chicago Defiance MC series.
The readers.
You fell in love with these brothers as much as I have, and I’m so glad you’ve brought them into your lives and made them a part of you.
This final book is hard to read.
But not only because it’s time to say goodbye.
It’s hard-hitting, I warn you, the club will be rocked to its very foundation on more than one occasion.
I hope you can handle the ride.
First and foremost, I would like to thank my mother, Kaylene Osborn, for being my editor. You have worked with me to make Allegiance the best it can be. Thank you for helping me with this entire series, together we have done something that I am so undeniably proud of. This Chicago Defiance series means the world to me, and to have you by my side for this journey couldn’t have been better. Thank you.
To Diana and Kim B – you ladies always give me the soundest advice. Thank you for working with me on this entire series. I’m SO lucky to have you on my team. I couldn’t imagine this writing journey without you. Your words of encouragement, words of improvement, and general friendship mean everything to me. I adore you both.
To Cindy/Thia Finn – thank you for everything. Your assistance with Allegiance has been second to none as always. Thank you for always spending the time to work on my books like you do. I love having you as an alpha and a friend.
To Carol – you are one of the people I am most thankful for in my life. I couldn’t imagine this book world without you in it. You never fail to be there when I need you. I honestly never have the right words to thank you for all that you do. You are amazing.
To Chantell – thank you for all your effort to help shape this book into the potential it has. With your brilliant eye for detail and your thoughts and ideas, I love the way we work together. I honestly can’t even remember how you came to be a part of my team, but I am incredibly glad you are. I probably don’t say this enough, but thank you. Thank you for all the effort you put into your beta reads. You are amazing.
To all of my awesome beta readers – thank you for once again putting your thoughts into this book. I appreciate all of your energy and ideas, and together we make a great team. Without you beautiful ladies, this book wouldn’t be at its best potential. So, thank you, every single one of you.
To Nicki – thank you for always fitting me in and making my books shine in the best way possible. I love that you’re a part of my wonderful team, and I can’t imagine anyone else proofing my books. You make them sparkle and be at their best. Thank you for making my babies all the better.
To Jane – I know I acknowledge you in practically every book, it’s getting repetitive now, but that can only mean one thing—you make the cut of special people in my life. I can’t imagine this book world without my NZ bestie in it. You may be miles away, but you are always there to be the shoulder I need, the whip to crack when I need it, and the advice when I can’t see my way through. I wish we lived closer, but then let’s face it, no work would ever get done… love you SpongeBob.
To Kellie – thank you for nailing the cover of Allegiance. This series has been a rollercoaster. It’s come to an end, but we got there. It was a long road, it took hours of planning and a hell of a lot of work on your end. I can’t thank you enough for the amazing covers you produced for this series. I love them so much.
To my beautiful, playful, and utterly adorable pup, Bella. You’re the light of my life, even though you’re scared of basically everything these days. The howling wind, closing doors, people using blower vacs, thunderstorms, and fireworks. You’re a crazy dog and a little chaotic, but I swear in your old age, you’re just making me adore you more and more. You make me laugh every day with your antics, but your cuddles are simply the best. Love you Belly-boo.
Last of all, I want to thank YOU, the reader. Your continued support of my writing career is both humbling and heartwarming. I adore my readers so much, and honestly, I couldn’t keep going without the love and support you all show me each day. Thank you for believing in me, and I hope I can keep you entertained for many, many years to come.
Much love,
K E Osborn
For your convenience, below is a list of terms used in this book.
Any questions, please do not hesitate to contact the author.
Cut—Vest with club colors
Duck-walk—Navigating into parking space using your feet.
Hammer Down—Accelerate quickly.
The Heat—Police.
Blurb
Dedication
Acknowledgments
A Note to the Reader
Table of Contents
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 Fifte
en
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
Check This Author Out
More Books To Check Out
Playlist
Connect With Me Online
About the Author – K E Osborn
HAYLEY
It’s been seven months since we all came together celebrating the fifth birthday of our president’s firstborn. A day no one in the club thought was possible. Torque, our president, the man so closed off from his emotions, finally took the plunge. He got married, started a family—his story now coming full circle.
Though, six years before, his life took a turn, a massive turn. The Irish were on our doorstep shaking the very foundations of Defiance. What it stood for. What the word Defiance meant. But, in true O’Shea style, Torque, Trax, Neala, and Freckles, stood together as a family and rained hell hard on all those who dared to stand in their way.
You come after the O’Shea’s, be prepared to lose.
I’m just so fucking glad to be a part of it all. I may not be an Old Lady but being the head club girl has its privileges too. Plus, I have a biker on my side a little more than the other club girls because Vibe and I are a thing. It’s serious, we both know it, but we’re not putting a label on it just yet. There’s no need. We’re comfortable, and that’s what we want right now.
The heavy beat of the bass vibrates through me as the music pumps through the air. Club Modesty is banging tonight, and as I wipe over the bar toward the end of my shift, I can’t help but watch the room.
There’s your typical broody, tattooed guy sitting alone at the end of the bar, puffing away on his cigarette. I’m sure I have seen him in here a few times before, though he’s never made contact with me. Sweaty bodies move and flow with the rhythm of the music on the dance floor. People intoxicated not only by the alcohol I have served them but with the passion they’ve found with random hookups.
This place might be owned by the most notorious bikers in Chicago, but it’s run well and not a dive like most people would expect. The Chicago Defiance MC president’s not-so-little sister, Neala, designed the layout of this place which makes it feel more like a club you’d see on a movie set than a biker’s bar. With the neon lights and booth sections, this place is upscale, more so than some of the high-end bars in the middle of the city.
I guess it is why I love working here.
It’s not seedy.
You don’t get that many assholes in the place which is good. Plus, the perks of being a club girl is that the MC club security is always looking out for you if anyone does get too handsy or out of control.
My shift is drawing to a close, and I can’t wait to get back to the clubhouse to crawl into bed. I stink of beer which I accidentally spilled on my shirt a little over an hour ago. I need a shower, and more importantly, a cuddle with Vibe. There’s a no-touch policy on all the other brothers in the MC on me. I don’t really know why I’m still classed as a club girl at this point. I guess I also don’t know what’s holding Vibe back from claiming me.
But I’ll wait, he’s worth it.
I turn around to restock the small bar fridge on the other side located under the counter. As I bend over, I hear someone whistle at me from behind the bar making me roll my eyes. I’m used to guys catcalling me. I mean I have to wear tiny shorts to work which my ass practically hangs out of, so I get it. But I don’t have to like it. I stand, turning around to see the tattooed guy who I noticed was at the end of the bar has moved closer toward me. His dark hair is slicked back greasily over his head, with bleached blond dyed on the tips.
Hispanic appearance. Maybe? I’m not sure.
He’s attractive, I suppose, but there’s something off about him. He has an aura that oozes darkness. His onyx eyes linger on me a little longer than I like. He draws in a deep drag of his cigarette, then puffs out a perfect smoke ring, which quickly evaporates into the already smoky room. I curl up my lip. If that was meant to impress me, it only served to make me think he’s sleazy.
He places his large hand on the counter, his fingers covered in huge silver rings, and a giant expensive watch adorns his wrist. I can see from his rolled-up sleeves, his right arm is completely blacked out with ink. I don’t mean with black and gray tattoos. I mean the entire arm is solid black ink. Whatever was there has been covered. That thought unsettles me. He was either in a gang and they kicked him out, or he’s into some heavy shit. I peer at his other hand where his tattoos are visible. A picture of the Virgin Mary covers his skin, but I can’t make out anything else without seeming like I’m staring. This guy could be trouble. I just get that vibe from him.
The corner of his lips turns up in a devious way as his eyes narrow in on me. “So, gorgeous… how ‘bout a drink?” he asks. His voice is deep, rich, and smooth like honey. Women would definitely flock at his feet. Women who don’t know any better. But I’ve been in the club a long-ass time, and I know men like him. I understand why they come to places like this, and it’s always to start trouble with the MC. Well, I’m not going to be his direct way in.
Placing my hand on my hip, I stand taller. “Drinks are what I’m here for. What’s your poison?”
The corner of his lips tweaks just a touch. “I have a weakness for gorgeous blondes like yourself.” I raise an eyebrow. “Bourbon, neat.”
“Sure thing.” Then I turn to the bar behind me to pour his drink. Throwing the towel over my shoulder, I pour his shot of bourbon into a tumbler. Placing it on a coaster, I slide it over to him. He hands me a twenty, and I move to the register.
“Keep the change,” he adds.
Yep, there’s something shifty about this dude.
Hesitantly I smile while putting the money for the drink in the till, then place the change in the tip jar. I need to figure out what I can find out about this guy. Walking over to shifty, I lean my elbows on the bar. My tits sit on the woodgrain, purposely gaining his attention. I have to get a feel if he’s going to be an issue for the club. It’s my job to figure him out before his gang, or whatever threat they pose, come at us. “So…” I put on my most sickly-sweet voice, “… those tattoos. What do they mean, big guy?”
Shifty’s not big. He’s bigger than me, naturally, but Vibe’s a beast, so I can’t compare. This guy has muscles, but he’s not built like a tank.
Shifty’s eyes glance down, tension rising around us, his flirty demeanor changes into something more sinister.
Maybe he’s onto me?
His hand reaches out grabbing mine.
I don’t flinch away—I can’t let him know he scares me.
“Do they turn you on?” Shifty’s pure onyx eyes bore into mine. I stare back at him trying not to turn away, but his stare is so fucking intense it has my heart racing and not in a good way. I pull my hand away from his, breaking eye contact as I push back from the bar.
Trying to calm my nerves, I clear my throat. “Tattoos are amazing. I really want to get one, one of these days. I guess I was just wondering if they meant something to you. So, should I get one that has meaning or just something that’s… you know… pretty?”
Shifty sits taller, definitely assessing me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, though. Does he believe me? I have no fucking clue. I can’t read him, and that’s unusual for me as I’m usually so good at it. He’s a damn mystery.
“I think you should get something pretty. Wouldn’t want to mark your gorgeous skin with anything other than beauty.”
My insides begin to tremble as his eyes run me up and down. Somehow, I force my lips to turn upward in a fake gesture. “Thanks.”
Shifty picks up his drink then throws i
t back in one fell swoop.
I cringe. It must have burned his throat. But a man like him probably feels nothing on the inside.
He places his tumbler on the bar. “One more if you will?”
I turn to grab his refill feeling his eyes watching me the entire time. Shifty needs a name. I need to find out who he really is. Something to go on, something to report back, something other than a guy with strange tattoos.
Fixing his drink, I turn back, take his empty away, then replace it with the new tumbler and slide it over. “On the house.”
Shifty smirks. If I were anyone else—if I didn’t know the underworld like I do—the way his face lights would quite simply make my panties melt. But it doesn’t. All it does is let me know this guy would be able to get away with anything. Shifty’s a master manipulator, but I have his measure.
“That’s very kind of you, Hayley.”
What the fuck!
I tense at hearing him say my name.
Shifty must sense my apprehension as I stand stock-still, a chill sending goosebumps all over my flesh. “I overheard the other barman mention your name.”
My head turns to peer at Tim down the other end of the bar. He was over here before, and he did use my name. Shifty’s story is plausible, but the fact he knows who I am also might not be a coincidence.
“Anyway, fair’s fair. You should know my name, too. I’m Raphael.”
Well, that was easier than I thought. I cock my head. “Like the fallen angel?”
“Yeah, exactly. But people call me Raph.”
I simply nod. “Do you have a last name, Raph?” I try to push for more information.
His pink lips turn up at the edge, but they don’t quite reach his dark eyes. They’re lit with a playfulness giving him that shifty demeanor. It’s a forced expression to let me know he has an air about him. Something I need to be careful of.