Bound by Vengeance

by Ryan Michele

  Once your name is tainted, no matter how good you are, you will never be clean in the eyes of society. I’m walking, talking, can’t sleep at night proof of it. Well, good fucking deal. I have learned society’s version of clean is everything I don’t ever want to be.

  The scum that blends into our communities and with our children, the cons that can run a game, they think they are untouchable. The number of crimes outnumber the crime fighters. The lines between law abiding and law breaking blur every day inside every precinct. I know because I carried the badge and thought I could be a change in the world. Then I found out everything is just as corrupt for the people upholding the law as those breaking it.

  Day in and day out, watching cops run free who deserve to be behind bars more than the criminals they put away takes its toll. Everyone has a line in the sand, and once they cross it, they don’t turn back. I found mine. Then I found the brotherhood in the Devil’s Due MC. Six guys who have all seen our own fair share of corruption in the justice system. Six guys who don’t give a fuck about the consequences.

  Well, that’s where me and my boys ride in. No one’s above the devil getting his due. We are happy to serve up our own kind of punishments that most certainly fit the crimes committed, and we don’t bother with the current legal system’s view of justice served.

  Wayward souls, damaged men who have nothing more than vengeance on our minds, we ride as six with no ties to anyone or anything from one city to the next. We have a bond. We are the only family for each other, and we keep it that way. No attachments, no commitments, and that means no casualties.

  We are here by choice. Any man can leave the club and our life behind at any time. I trust these men with my life and with my death. When my time is called, they will move on with the missions as they come.

  “Fucking bitch got my pants wet,” Trapper says, just realizing she really did get off on his thigh and left him behind. “You see this shit?” He points at his leg.

  Trapper mad is good. He’ll become focused rather than let the alcohol keep him in a haze. He could use some time to dry up. He’s sharp. His attention to detail saves our asses in city after city. However, things get too close to home when we ride to the Deep South like this, and he can’t shake the ghosts in the closets of his mind. At five-foot-ten and a rock solid one eighty-five, he’s a force of controlled power. He may be drunk, yet once the wind hits his face, he’ll be solid. He always is. He uses his brain more than his brawn, but he won’t back down in a brawl, either.

  We help him get outside the dive bar we spent the last two hours inside, tossing beer back and playing pool. Outside, the fresh winter air hits him, and he shakes his head.

  “It’s not that cold,” X says, slapping Trapper in the face. “Sober up, sucka.”

  Trapper smiles as he starts to ready his mind. As drunk as he is, he knows he has to have his head on straight to ride.

  “Flank him on either side, but stay behind in case he lays her down. We only have four miles back to the hotel,” I order, swinging my leg over my Harley Softail Slim and cranking it. The rumble soothes all that stays wound tight inside me. The vibration reminds me of the power under me.

  Blowing out a breath, I tap the gas tank. “Ride for Raleigh,” I whisper and point to the night sky. Never forget, I remind myself before I move to ride. With my hands on the bars, twisting the throttle, I let the bike move me and lift my feet to rest on the pegs.

  As each of my brother’s mount, I pull out and relax as the road passes under me, knowing they will hit the throttle and catch me.

  At the no-tell motel we are crashing at, X takes Trapper with him to one of the three shit-ass rooms we booked while Judge and Rowdy go to the other. The place has seen better days, probably thirty years ago. It’s a place to shit, shower, and maybe sleep if I can keep the nightmares away. I have never needed anything fancy, and tonight is no different.

  I give them a half-salute as they close their doors and lock down for the night.

  Deacon heads on into our room. Always a man of few words and interaction, he doesn’t look back or give me any indication that he cares if I follow or stay behind.

  I give myself the same moment I take every night to stand out under the stars and smoke.

  I look up. Immediately, I can hear her tiny voice in my mind, making up constellations all her own. Raleigh was once a rambunctious little girl afraid of nothing. She loved the night sky and wishing upon all the stars.

  Another city, another life, I wish it was another time, but one thing I know is that there is no turning back time. If I could, I would. Not just for me, but for all six of us.

  I light my cigarette and take a deep drag. Inhaling, I hold it in my lungs before I blow out. The burn, the taste, and the touch of it to my lips don’t ease the thoughts in my mind. Another night is upon us, and it’s yet another night Raleigh will never come home.

  The receptionist from the hotel lobby steps out beside me. She isn’t the one who was here when we checked in earlier. However, when she smiles up at me, I can tell she has been waiting on us. Guess the trailer trash from day shift chatted up her replacement. Well, at least this one has nice teeth. Day shift definitely doesn’t have dental on her benefit plan here.

  “Go back inside,” I bark, not really in the mood for company.

  “I’m entitled to a break,” she challenges with a southern drawl.

  “If you want a night with a biker, I’m not the one,” I try to warn her off.

  “Harley, leather, cigarettes, and sexy—yeah, I think you’re the one … for tonight, that is.” She comes over and reaches out for the edges of my cut.

  I grab her wrists. “You don’t touch my cut,” I growl in frustration. She is playing with fire and seems to get off on it, biting her bottom lip with a sly smile.

  There is a rasp to her tone as she tries for seduction. “Oh, rules. I can play by the rules, big daddy.”

  I drop her hands and walk in a circle around her before standing in front of her then backing her toward the wall. I take another drag of my cigarette and blow the smoke into her face. “I’m not your fucking daddy.” I take another long drag. Smoke blows out with each word as I let her know, “If you wanna fuck, we’ll fuck. Make no mistake, though, I’m not in the mood to chat, cuddle, or kiss. I’ll fuck, and that’s it.”

  She leans her head back, testing me.

  “Hands against the wall,” I order, and she slaps her palms down loudly against the brick behind her, one at each side of her legs.

  Her chest rises and falls dramatically as her breathing increases. She keeps licking and biting her lips, her desperation showing. Why do women think this is a turn on? It’s not.

  “You want a ride on the wild side?”

  She nods, pushing her tits out at me. I’m a man, any release is better than no release.

  “You wet for me?” I ask, and she giggles while nodding. “If you want me to get hard and stay hard, you don’t fucking make a sound. That giggling shit is annoying as fuck.”

  Immediately, she snaps her mouth shut.

  I yank her shirt up and pull her bra over her titties without unhooking it. Her nipples point out in the cold night air.

  “You cold or is that for me?” I ask, flicking her nipple harshly.

  “You,” she whispers breathlessly.

  I yank the waistband of her stretchy pants down, pulling her panties with them. Her curls glisten with her arousal under the street light.

  With her pants at her ankles, I turn her around to face the wall. “Bend over, grab your ankles. You don’t speak, don’t touch me, and you don’t move. If you want a wild ride with a biker, I’m gonna give you one you’ll never forget.”

  While she positions herself, I grab a condom from my wallet and unbutton my four button jeans enough to release my cock. While stroking myself a few times to get fully erect, part of me considers just walking away. However, I’m a man with a dick, and pussy is pussy. No matter what my mood, it’s a place to sink
into for a time.

  Covering myself carefully, I spread her ass cheeks and slide myself inside her slick cunt. The little whore is more than ready.

  I close my eyes and picture a dark-haired beauty with ink covering her arms and a tight cunt made just for me. I can almost hear the gravelly voice of my dream woman as she moans my name, pushing back to take me deeper, thrust after thrust.

  I roll my hips as the receptionist struggles to keep herself in position.

  Raising my hand, I come down on the exposed globe of her ass cheek. “Dirty fucking girl.” I spank her again. “I’m not your fucking daddy, but I’ll give you what he obviously didn’t.” I spank her again and thrust. “Head down between your legs. Watch me fuck your pussy.”

  She does as instructed and watches as I continue slamming into her. Stilling, I reach down and twist her nipples as she pushes back on me.

  Her moans get louder as I move, gripping her hips and pistoning in and out of her.

  I slap her ass again. “I said quiet.” Then I push deep, my hips hitting her ass, and she shakes as her orgasm overtakes her.

  “Fuck me!” she wails.

  I slam in and out, in and out, faster and faster, until I explode inside the condom.

  She isn’t holding her ankles by the time I’m done. She’s still head down, bent over with her back against the wall as her hands hang limply like the rest of her body, trembling in aftershocks.

  Pulling out, I toss the condom on the ground and walk away, buttoning my pants back up, no thought beyond washing her off me.

  “Collector,” I hear X yell my road name from his doorway. “You ruined that one.” He nods to the bent over woman, smoking a cigarette and making it obvious he watched the show.

  The noise has Judge coming to his door and giving me a nod of approval.

  I look over my shoulder to see the bitch still hasn’t moved. Her pussy is out in the air, ass up, head down, and she’s still moaning. Desperate, needy, it’s not my thing.

  “I need a shower,” I say, giving X a two finger salute before going into my own room where Deacon is already in bed and doesn’t move as I go straight back to the shitty bathroom to clean up.

  I wasn’t lying. I smell like a bar, and now I smell the skank stench of easy pussy. I have needs, but I can’t help wondering what it would be like to have to work for my release just once. It’s not in my cards, though. Just like this town, this ride, and that broad, it’s on to the next for me and my bothers of the Devil’s Due MC.

  * * *

  Read more in In the Red by Chelsea Camaron by clicking HERE

  Excerpt of Arrested Heart by SM Donaldson

  Arrested Heart

  Dispatch 247

  Book 1

  By: S.M. Donaldson

  * * *

  Copyright © 2017 SM Donaldson

  Cover by: Indie Vention-Designs

  Cover Model: Tyler Morris

  Photography by: E.B. Photography

  Editing by: Chelly Peeler

  * * *

  Mox

  Life has a way of throwing curve balls at every turn. I'm Eli "Mox" Moxen and I've finally figured out what I want in life.

  I’m fearless. In life, in my career, and in love. I'll face it all with strength and determination.

  Amber

  Just when I think I'm getting ahead, something comes along to knock me on my butt. I'm Amber Young, single mom, jaded in love, and in danger.

  I refuse to fail. For my daughter and for myself, I refuse to fail at life, in my career, and in love.

  For first responders like Mox, there is rarely a second chance for anything...except maybe love. This is Mox's chance to show Amber he's a man who also refuses to fail...especially when it comes to her heart.

  * * *

  Rarely is there a second chance at anything for a first responder…except maybe love.

  The Call

  “Alachua 247 to Alachua 27, we have a signal 24 in progress at the Citizens Central Bank on Volusia Boulevard. Proceed with caution, suspects have hostages and suspects are said to be armed.”

  “Alachua 27 10-4 Alachua 247. I’ll be 10-51, 10-52 five minutes.”

  “10-4 Alachua 27, Alachua 16, 32, 5 and 22 will meet you there.”

  “10-4.”

  * * *

  Prologue-

  Mox-

  I jump up from the bed, grabbing my black BDU-style pants and grab my SWAT gear. I glance back at the naked girl lying in my bed. She smiles at me. “You’ve got to go, huh?”

  “Yeah, so you should probably get dressed.” I say as I toss the condom into the garbage can. God, I hate freaking condoms, but I don’t really know this chick well enough to go without. Christy, isn’t that her name? Christy, yeah, that seems right. Maybe Chelly? Cheryl? No, it’s Christy I’m pretty sure.

  She looks at me kind of sad. Shit, this happens every time I bring a girl back here more than once. From now on, I’m going to their damn place. “Look, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. My sister doesn’t like me leaving my guests here when I leave.”

  Her eyes pop open wider. “Seriously?!” She jumps up from the bed, snatching her clothes on. “You’re a real asshole. Blaming your sister, she seemed sweet the other day when I ran into her.”

  Shit, I gotta tell Gia not to talk to them. “She is nice, but only to a point.” I’m dressed. “Now, I gotta go and so do you.”

  She grabs her bag as she goes out the door, “Fucking dick! Don’t ever call me again!”

  Yep, I sure won’t. Because, I didn’t plan to anyway. What in the hell does this chick expect? I’ve fucked her two times now. Both times, I ran into her at the coffee shop down the street after my night shift. Hell, this time I didn’t even pay for her coffee. She basically followed me. I like sex, so sue me if a woman is willing to give it to me. I said no strings. I meant it. Oh well, it’s not the first time I’ve been called names and it won’t be the last.

  * * *

  Chapter 1

  Mox-

  “You think you’re ready for this, rookie?” Mack asks me.

  “You bet,” I say as I strap on my Swat gear. Being the newest member to the team, my heart still thumps with excitement when I get a call like this one. It almost gets my dick hard. I mean it’s the equivalent of prom night in high school where you’re pretty sure you’re going to get laid.

  We’ve had a string of bank robberies going on throughout our county and the neighboring ones. They get in quick, thirty minutes after the bank opens, just enough time for all the vaults to be open and all the teller’s drawers to be full. We’ve been close several times. Today is the first time they’ve gotten hemmed up in there. They’re either getting brave or one of their crew fucked up.

  Mack slaps me on the back and shakes his head, smiling. “Damn sure aren’t that scrawny kid I met.”

  “Nope.” I laugh as I tighten the strap on my tactical vest.

  Yeah, I remember being that kid. I was eighteen when my twin sister Gia and I looked up our brothers. My self-confidence was in the tank, due to things beyond my control. I wasn’t ever bullied or anything like that, but after my adoptive mother died, I just withdrew from life. My brothers Huck and Sly pulled me into their gym and started sparring and training with me. I needed that. I needed to be torn down and built back up stronger.

  I was in college when Mack came in as a guest speaker for my State and Local Government class. When I spoke with him after class, he offered to take me on some ride-a-longs. That day, that one class changed my life.

  I rode with Mack the entire time I was in college. He told me I needed to make sure I still got my degree, that way when I graduated from the Law Enforcement Academy and went to work, I wouldn’t be stuck on patrol for forever before moving where I wanted to be. Now here I am, two years out of college, on our small SWAT team and working alongside Mack as an investigator. The youngest person to ever accomplish that in our department.

  “Okay, they’re about to com
e out!” our team leader announces.

  The guys come out but only two of them, all the reports before said four guys. What the fuck? This makes no sense. No hostages, no hurry and they look terrified. But I guess if I had assault rifles pointed from every direction around me, I’d be scared, too.

  “Drop your weapons, take three steps forward and get on your knees!”

  The assailants drop to the ground, no issues. I look at Mack. “Not that I wanted a big shoot out or anything, but doesn’t this seem a little off?”

  He nods. “Yeah, something isn’t right here.”

  He and I walk forward, taking the two suspects. The one I cuff is shaking and sweating, he’s so nervous. He’s whispering something. “What?” I question.

  He whispers, trying not to move his lips. “We’re a diversion. I’m a loan officer.” I shove him into the patrol car and run back to Mack, just about the time the doors to the bank explode.

  The concussion from the explosion rattles my ears and I’m thrown to the ground. I know I’m screaming even though it sounds muffled. “MACK!” I try to hold my eyes open, but it all goes black.

  I wake up in a hospital room and I hear people mumbling. I try to speak but I have to clear my throat. My brothers and my sister are standing there. Gia is crying. They turn to me and start speaking but it’s mumbles. I shake my head. “I can’t hear you,” I croak out.

  Huck nods and grabs a notepad from the table and writes on it. “You were in an explosion.”

  I nod. “Where’s Mack?”

  He scribbles on the pad. “Getting patched up. He got some cuts and scrapes.”

  I point to myself. He scribbles again. “You’re fine, your hearing is going to be rattled for a little bit, they said it’s normal for an explosion. You’ll be bruised up. You hit your head pretty hard on the pavement. Luckily there was no damage to the pavement,” he jokes.

  “Ha ha!” I say. “Gia,” I croak. I motion to the pitcher sitting on the table.