OWNED: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Blood Warriors MC)

by Naomi West

  Everyone sat in stunned silence, partially at the story, and partially at the fact that the Roaming Wolves had let this clearly-unhinged man into their club. How had he gotten so far into their club? How had he gotten these men to help him? All because of a vendetta against the Blood Warriors?

  “But, then, well, your daddy died, didn't he?” he asked, shaking his head. “And, I thought to myself, 'Now's your chance, Aaron! Now you can be a Blood Warrior, just like you've always dreamed!'”

  “So why didn't you just apply?” Blade asked. “We would've given you a fair vote, up or down, to become a recruit. None of us knew you.”

  Aaron snorted. “Why bother? I'd rather have my revenge. And, when I'd heard Brendon was back in town, I figured out how I wanted to start.”

  “You went through all this, just to get revenge for something a dead man did to you years ago?” Tanner asked, his eyes wide.

  Aaron nodded, that wide grin of his spreading across his face again. “Why else? I mean, I'm your biggest rival, now. Figured a little cred with the Wolves wouldn't hurt things.”

  “Geez,” Blade said, “on second thought, thank God Logan turned you down. You evil sumbitch.”

  “What do we want to do with him?” Brendon asked, the look on his face just as perplexed as everybody else's.

  Tanner shook his head as Star backed away from him. Everyone knew what had to be done, what deserved to be done. He'd been in here, after the women. He'd gotten Brendon hooked on drugs, had kidnapped Star. But, still, killing him would just put a murder over the club’s head. And that, by itself, was too dangerous.

  “You really love the Roaming Wolves?” Tanner asked, his voice level. “Don't you?”

  Aaron shrugged, his head trying to track Tanner as he circled around him. “They're my boys, same as you got with the Blood Warriors. They pick me up when I'm down, they got my back. Why wouldn't I?”

  Tanner was behind him now. He reached up and put his hands on Aaron's patch, the big Roaming Wolves name that arched across the back of his vest.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Aaron yelled and struggled against the mummy-like duct tape wrappings. “You keep your hands off that patch, you son-of-a-bitch Warrior!”

  “You ain't exactly in a position to make any demands,” Tanner said, his voice flat and emotionless as he began to rip the patches off his vest.

  “What are you doing?” Star asked.

  “To one of us,” Tanner said, nodding to Blade and the rest of the guys, “losing your patch is like losing your honor. A biker wouldn't be caught dead without his patches. Ain't that right, Aaron?”

  “You son of a bitch,” Aaron said. “You give those back.”

  “Don't think so,” Tanner said as he circled back around, patches in hand. He reached into his pocket and dug out his pops' old Zippo, the same lighter he'd used to light the Molotov those weeks ago. God, that felt like a lifetime distant, now. He flicked the case open and sparked the wheel, sending up a flickering orange and red flame. He made sure Aaron could see what he was doing, too. Make sure he could see the punishment Tanner was about to inflict on him.

  “What are you-?” Aaron asked, the words seeming to swell in his throat and choke him. “You can't! You wouldn't!”

  “Wouldn't what?” Tanner asked as he put the flickering tongue of flame to the edge of the patches. “Take away the only thing that matters to you? Same as you tried to do to me?”

  Aaron's mouth dropped open, and Tanner thought he might burst into tears. All that pride, all that honor. Gone. Poof. Up in smoke. Literally.

  “My patches . . .” Aaron said, his eyes fixated on them as they burned in Tanner's hand.

  “No more,” Tanner said. “And, I don't want to find you anywhere near here. Or by the college. I see you anywhere within fifty miles of the Blood Warriors territory, I'll kill you myself. You hear me?”

  Aaron's mouth opened and closed, his tongue twisted and tied by the reality of what was happening in front of him.

  “I asked if you heard me, you piece of shit!” Tanner yelled as he dropped the burned patches on the concrete floor and squashed out the flames with his boots.

  Aaron, seemingly struck dumb, could only nod.

  “Good. Cam, cut him loose.”

  The recruit whipped out his pocket knife and got in close behind him. He reached down and cut the duct tape, slicing through the adhesive strips like butter. Aaron brought his hands around and rubbed his wrists, just like Star had all those weeks ago when Tanner cut her loose.

  But, Aaron did what Star hadn't.

  He tried one last time to get even. He lunged for Tanner.

  Tanner had expected something like this. A man like Aaron, he'd keep going until all his options were exhausted. He was definitely the type to stay on the stage until a whole choir of fat ladies sang. Tanner struck him fast, a quick jackrabbit punch that hit him square in the nose and dazed him.

  Aaron stumbled forward a little bit, suddenly unsure of his footing.

  Tanner kneed him in the gut, knocking the wind from him, then slashed him to the ground with a wild haymaker.

  Aaron tried to get up again, but the attempt was feeble.

  “Don't,” Tanner breathed, then kicked him in the side. “Or, so help me God, we'll finish this the other way.”

  Aaron didn't try again to climb to his feet. This time, he stayed down.

  Star came over to Tanner, wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him back and away from Aaron's prone form.

  It was done, he realized. It was finally over. The Roaming Wolves may bother them again, but Aaron wouldn't be any party to it. His days in their MC were over. They'd seen to that.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Star

  Star carried her box of the few keepsakes she had kept from childhood into Tova's house. They'd already moved her small coffee table and bed out of storage. All told, her belongings fit into the bed of Blade's pickup truck. Well, all of her possessions that had been worth keeping, at least. Some of it had just ended up by the dumpster, left to be someone else's treasure.

  The plan was to live here until they at least got the place fixed back up. Tanner figured moving in would save him the hassle of having to get out here every day. He could just wake up every morning, have his coffee, eat his breakfast, then go and tear down old sheet rock, or start working on the plumbing. He, Brendon, and the rest of the boys would have the place back up to snuff in no time flat.

  Then, after his mother's place was fixed up, they'd purchase their own home. Tanner said the one he had wouldn't do for his family. He was going to give them the best he could.

  Star believed him, even if she didn't care either way. After being alone for so long, with just her thoughts and the awful memories of her childhood to keep her company, a full house was what she needed. The bustle of other people coming in and out. People to watch TV with. People to yell at because the TV was too loud and she was reading.

  Tova seemed to warm to the idea, too. “I never had a daughter, you know,” she'd confided in Star one night when Tanner and his brother were down at the Old Crow.

  “What about Willow? Didn't you like her?”

  “Willow never fit in,” Tova said, reaching across the table to pat Star's hand. “You, though. Honey, you got Blood Warrior ol' lady written all over you.”

  Star couldn't help but smile. This was the first time she'd ever felt like she'd belonged. She realized she'd been a square peg all her life, but had always been told only round holes existed. Now, all of a sudden and completely by accident, she'd stumbled across an entire board full of square holes.

  “That the last of it?” Tanner asked as Star came into the house with her arms full. He came up to her, arms outstretched to take her load. “Here, let me take that.”

  She shook her head and twisted the box away from him, out of his grasp. “Tanner Rainier, I'm barely pregnant. I can lift a box by myself. And, no, there's still a few more. You better go help Blade out with them bef
ore he throws his back out.”

  “That old man?” Tanner growled before kissing her on the cheek. “He's tough as nails.”

  But, he went out anyways to help the president of the Blood Warriors.

  And Star Bentley turned and watched her man go. Because that's what he was. Her man.

  # # #

  Tanner

  That evening, Tanner and Blade sat out on the back stoop of his mom's house, beers in hand, looking out over the backyard. They'd loaded and unloaded moving boxes all day, and they deserved the break.

  “Thanks for the help today,” Tanner said, toasting his old mentor.

  “Don't mention it. Anything for your family, you know that. Your daddy always did right by me.”

  Tanner grinned. “I know.” He took a sip of beer and leaned back against the door frame. “You proved that, and more, with all that Aaron shit.”

  “You know how it is,” Blade said. “Strike at one of us, you strike at all of us.”

  “Damn straight,” Tanner agreed.

  They both grew quiet, just letting the chirping crickets fill the silence. Contentment, for the first time in he-didn't-know-how-long, filled Tanner. Everything seemed right with the world. No worries from the Wolves, no worries from Aaron. His ol' lady was with him. He had a baby on the way. His brother was home safe. Hell, his mom seemed to be getting better, even.

  “Tanner,” Blade said after a while of comfortable quiet, “I've been thinking.”

  Tanner took a sip of his beer. “About what?”

  “Retirement.”

  Tanner almost dropped his beer. He hadn't seen that coming! “What? You can't retire, old man!”

  “Not from the club,” Blade said, a wry smile on his face. “Just from leadership.”

  “What are the Warriors going to do without you?” Tanner asked, the shock still reverberating through him.

  “Pick someone younger, faster, and stronger. Look, I've been thinking about everything that went down with Aaron -”

  “You mean how I almost fucked everything up?”

  Blade set his beer aside. “Tanner, lemme ask you something. Know what makes a good leader, versus a bad one?”

  Tanner shook his head.

  “Making more good decisions than bad ones,” Blade said, “and taking responsibility for them. Sure, you made a mistake, but no one got hurt in the end. But, do you know what makes a man a leader, good or bad?”

  “Never really thought of it, I guess.”

  “Being willing to make decisions. Period. What you decided to do at the end, with us trying to chase down Aaron, then having to race back to the warehouse? Then just taking his patches and sparing his life? It was a decision, no matter which way you look at it, and the right one in that case.”

  Tanner nodded as he listened to Blade. He still kicked himself every now and then about the decisions he'd made during the whole affair, and how wrong some of them ended up being. “I still got so many things wrong,” he said. “I just feel like I screwed it all up.”

  Blade shrugged. “Welcome to life, Tanner-boy. Not every decision is going to be the right one. Hell, not making a decision, period, that's as much making a decision. You're just choosing to let events unfold for you.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Tanner said. “But, I just don't think I can ever get over it, you know?”

  “You don't. It's called learning from your mistakes. And, boy howdy, have I had my share.”

  “Why now? I mean, we proved to everyone around that we can take care of ourselves, even after Pops passed.”

  “Cause this whole thing taught me something. I'm getting old. Too damned old. I can't go and fight bruisers half my age like I did when we were getting Brendon back, or go off half-cocked like we did at the Wolves compound. Not anymore, that's for sure.”

  “So, you talked to the others about this? To Tyke?”

  Blade nodded and took another drink of beer. “Yup. And we agreed.”

  “Agreed on what?”

  “We want you to be the new president.”

  Tanner Rainier dropped his beer that time.

  He hadn’t expected this, not even in that daydream-y, back-of-his-head way that wild possibilities sometimes crossed his mind. To Tanner, Blade was a rock – immovable, eternal, not going anywhere anytime soon. And yet, here he was, handing something over that Tanner hadn’t even known was transferrable.

  He didn’t know what else to do but what he did next: pull the old, grizzled, now-ex-president into a bear hug. Fuck decorum, fuck that weird little line that sometimes stopped tough men from letting their comrades know how they felt.

  When your leader tells you he’s proud of you, when he says he believes in you, there’s only one thing to do, and that’s hug the bastard.

  “Easy now, kiddo,” Blade chuckled. “It ain’t like bein’ prez is all fun and games. I’m giving you a job, you know, and a serious one at that.”

  “Shut up,” Tanner laughed. “Just shut up and gimme a goddamn hug.”

  Blade laughed again and did just that.

  After a long moment during which Tanner tried and failed to find words to express the rush of emotions going through them, he released Blade and looked at the shattered glass and puddle of his dropped beer.

  “Gonna need another drink,” Blade wisecracked. “We got stuff to celebrate now, don’t we?”

  “Damn straight,” Tanner replied. “A job, an ol’ lady, a baby on the way… What’d I do to deserve all this?”

  Blade winked. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, kid.”

  He was right. For just a moment, it was okay to sit back and marvel at how the perfect life had fallen right into his lap. An image of Star flashed across his mind – smiling that perfect smile, the beginnings of her baby bump showing through a flowing shirt.

  She was his. Now and forever. He couldn’t wait to get started on that forever part.

  THE END

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  BROKEN: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Satan’s Wings MC)

  By Naomi West

  SHE’S NAKED, WET, AND BROKEN – BUT MOST OF ALL, SHE’S MINE.

  Second chance? F**k that.

  I only need one moment alone to get Daria begging for my c*ck.

  I’m gonna f*ck her full of my seed until she realizes the truth:

  I’m not the kid she used to know anymore--I’m a motherf*cking man.

  She’s trying to put the pieces of her life back together.

  I’m trying to hunt down my father’s killers.

  It wasn’t the right time or place to do what I did…

  But do I look like the kind of guy who gives a sh*t?

  Let me answer that for you: no, I’m not.

  I couldn’t care less what Daria wants.

  Because what I want is this:

  Her legs spread wide.

  Her mouth held open.

  And not a stitch of clothing anywhere in sight.

  I’m gonna tease her until she breaks.

  Then I’m going to pick up the pieces and f*ck her ‘til she sees stars.

  Inconvenient?

  Maybe.

  Crossing a line?

  Most definitely.

  But will it be worth it when I finally f*ck the girl next door?

  You better believe it will be.

  Chapter One

  Daria

  The early morning light flitted through the partially open curtains of the motel room I was in, luring me gently from my slumber in time to catch my mother leaving for work.

  Perhaps if it was a little darker, if I was a little groggier, or if she had turned away a little faster, I would’ve stayed blissfully unaware for a few moments lon
ger. But as it was, the faint bruise on her skin could’ve had neon lights pointing to it considering the way my eyes automatically zeroed in on it.

  I suppressed a flinch as my eyes raked over my mother’s frail form and bruised body. Though it was starting to fade, and her heavily made up skin covered almost all traces of the damage, her injury seemed to be imprinted on my mind, rising to the surface every time she looked at me. It was a painful reminder of a life we had only recently managed to escape.