Hunter: The Auckland Kings Crime Family Trilogy Book Two: Social Rejects Syndicate

by A. J. Macey

  She burst out laughing, trailing off with a smile and nod. “I expect it, Hunter. You may not have promised forever, but you definitely promised right now.”

  “That I did, Short Stuff.”

  Right now, and for the future to come.

  Now to show her just what that meant to me.

  Epilogue

  Two days later

  Chloe

  “Chloe dear!” my mom practically shouted as I got out of the cab, her arms tossed out wide as she sprinted to meet me. I hadn’t gotten more than a smile out before she barreled into me, squeezing me in a tight hug. It took everything in me to not wince at the pain radiating through me at her embrace, so I focused on hugging her back as the cabby got my suitcase out of the trunk.

  “How was Auckland?” my father asked, coming up a bit more calmly, compared to my whirlwind mother.

  “Exciting,” I murmured, hugging him next. I was happy it was winter in the states, the long-sleeve sweater covering the still healing cut on my arm and my beanie covering the scrape on my temple. “And warm.”

  The addition to the end of my statement made them laugh. My father grabbed my bag as I quickly paid the fare and waved to the driver before heading inside. My childhood home was filled with the scent of pine from the Christmas tree and gingerbread, no doubt from my dad’s obsession with baking.

  It was home, and I was happy to be back, but there were also a lot of other emotions filling me as I dropped my coat onto the coat rack. It was bittersweet, missing New Zealand since I left.

  More importantly, I missed Hunter. I pulled out my phone as my parents were discussing the plans for the weekend, only to find no missed calls or texts. It was hard not to frown, but I kept my face flat, not wanting to catch my parents’ attention.

  “I’m going to take my stuff upstairs,” I told them, grabbing my suitcase. I would stay for the night before heading back to my apartment, a tradition every time I’d traveled. They smiled and waved me on, and as soon as I was out of their sight, my forced smile fell to a harsh frown.

  No, Chloe, he said he’d call you later when you were supposed to land. Stop being clingy. At the slight scolding, I tucked some of the negativity away but only just. There was a knock on the front door, the sound dull from where I was in the house. Huh, wonder if it’s delivery from Luigi’s. That thought was quickly dashed when my dad hollered from the entryway.

  “Chloe! You’ve got a visitor!”

  My brows knitted together. Who would be visiting me right now? Darting down the stairs, curiosity filled me. As I rounded the corner, I felt my pace stumble when I saw who was standing on the other side of the threshold.

  “Hunter?” I questioned, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me. A smile curled his lips as I closed the distance between us. “What… how…?” I stumbled over my words, trying to process how he was here. “You came all the way to the states?” came tumbling out.

  “It was about time for a vacation,” he murmured with a shrug, looking around the snowy yard and frozen wonderland that was Chicago. “I could use a tour guide, you know, if you’re up for spending it with me, Short Stuff.”

  I beamed, the melancholy that had descended when I left the Auckland King’s mansion disappearing, and in its wake were fluttering butterflies and excitement. Flinging myself forward, I clutched tight to his muscled torso and kissed him passionately, not caring that my parents were watching me.

  “Can I take that as a yes?” he whispered against my lips.

  “Absolutely,” I murmured, kissing him again.

  “Your parents are staring at us,” he tried again. Opening my eyes, I found him eying them and felt my cheeks burn, but instead of being embarrassed, I only giggled.

  “Mom, Dad,” I started, turning to face them, “I want to introduce Hunter, my boyfriend.”

  The introductions were a little awkward, my parents surprised to hear about my impromptu relationship, but thankfully, they kept their questions at bay.

  “I can’t believe you tried to climb me in front of your parents,” Hunter murmured, pulling me closer once we were lounging on the couch, watching a movie while my parents made a middle-of-the-night snack before bed since I’d landed well after the sun went down. I blushed again, snuggling into his chest and glancing up at him.

  “Eh, they’re fine. Besides, I was too excited to see you,” I explained with a shrug. “I still can’t believe you flew all the way here.”

  “I can,” he told me, kissing me softly.

  “But… why?” I asked softly, needing to understand.

  Hunter pulled back to look at me, his glacier eyes trailing over the planes of my face.

  “As soon as you were checked in to fly back, I knew I couldn’t let you walk away without spending some time together, away from the Phantoms or my family’s work. I was lucky enough to snag a first-class ticket on another flight with a shorter layover, putting me in the city just after you.”

  His explanation made me warm, my heart squeezing at the sweet gesture.

  “Meeting your parents was awkward, but seeing the sunny smile on your pretty face made it all worth it.”

  I chuckled, only imagining how awkward it had been, but the sentiment was sweet, and I couldn’t deny how happy it made me.

  “I’m happy you’re here, Hunter,” I said honestly.

  “Me, too,” he echoed, looking at the clock. “Merry Christmas, Short Stuff.”

  The dings of the hand striking midnight sounded, and the smile I didn’t think could get any bigger widened.

  “Merry Christmas, Hunter. Having you here is the best gift I could ask for.”

  “Me, too, Chloe. Me, too.”

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  Rival

  Book 1 of The Aces Trilogy

  Want to know what a girl’s best friend is? Revenge.

  * * *

  Hey b*tches, my name’s Kiera. You might know me as The Cat, famous cat burglar/thief.

  * * *

  No? Well, let me give you a little insight into my life as of late.

  * * *

  I was going about, minding my own damn business when the mob boss who runs most of the Reno underground sent an assassin after me. Crazy, yeah? Anyway, six months later the previously mentioned assassin is now my partner in crime when we get a job from the local motorcycle club, The Aces. All good and dandy, right? Wrong. They’re 1%ers, all three officers unbelievably attractive. Oh, yeah, the Vice President of the MC? That’s my asshole step-brother and let’s not even get started on the club’s suspicious Enforcer or the President who’s dripping in sexual swagger.

  * * *

  With four sexy as f*ck men at my back, can I get the job done or will our explosive personalities cause us to be at each other’s throats? Oh, damn! Almost forgot in the thought of all the ruggedly attractive men, muscles, and tattoos that the rival MC, The Alloy Kings are moving in and seem intent to take me down with the Aces. F*cking bastards.

  * * *

  But I’m not the thief who became famous at 15 years old and survived the mob’s hell in my past just to lay down and take that, they won’t know what hit them.

  * * *

  I’m The Cat, and soon enough, they’ll learn that I’ve got claws.

  CLICK HERE to get your copy of Rival (The Aces book 1) today!

  Chapter 1

  April 19th

  Friday Morning

  Kiera

  “Fuck!” With quick movements, I rolled out of bed and stepped into the god-awful jeans I’d picked for my cover. My hair was swiftly thrown into what my best bitch coined as my ‘rat’s nest’ bun. I was running late. Again. After
pulling a black turtleneck over my head, I swigged some mouthwash while I situated the itchy fabric around my neck.

  I would have been out the door in less than five minutes if the damn door hadn’t been so slow to open. Need to get that fixed. I made a mental note about the door in the fourth bay of the garage as I hopped into the used piece of junk I utilized as my job car. Shooting a text to Abby, I let her know I was on my way. With the windows rolled down, the quickly warming weather of the Nevada desert brushed against my face as I made my way to downtown Reno. The coffee shop’s parking lot was partially filled with others who needed their fix before going on with the monotony of their daily life. I spotted Abby’s dusty truck off to the side of the large lot. Hustling, I ordered a black coffee and went out to the side patio where my best bitch was seated.

  “Hey,” I greeted breathlessly, flopping ungracefully into the warm metal chair. I angled the chair slightly so I could keep an eye on Abby as well as discreetly watch the whole reason for being here, Harbold Law Office. The building was a tan, smooth stone with a grey shingled roof. The large windows and front door glimmered in the quickly rising sun. The tint of the glass was nearly black, hiding everything that happened within the building.

  “You’re late,” she chastised, her rough voice low to not catch the attention of those around us. Her blue eyes situated on my face and a dark brown brow lifted in her usual judgmental facial expression. If I didn’t give a shit about her, I’d have smacked that look off her face long ago. “Honestly, I don’t know how you’re able to do your jobs with your shitty time management skills.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” I shrugged and took a small sip of my drink pushing past the bitter taste.

  “You do know they make coffee that actually tastes good, right? You don’t have to power through straight black.” Abby nodded her head toward the cup in my hand, her own cup marked with different symbols signifying she had some girly frou-frou drink.

  “I wouldn’t drink it if I didn’t have to,” I muttered, taking another sip. “Besides, I can’t handle all that shit you have loaded up in there. Is it even still coffee or is it just a giant cup of sugar?”

  “Oh, shut up, bitch. If you weren’t so damn stubborn...” she mumbled the rest of her statement incoherently into her coffee cup.

  I chuckled, my gaze following the large man who had just stepped out of his fire red Lamborghini. He even had the balls to park perpendicular to the lines on the asphalt taking up over three slots of his own parking lot.

  “How the fuck does he even fit in that?” I whispered to Abby, who choked on some of her sugar concoction when she tried to laugh at me. “I mean seriously, look at him. He’s bigger than the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.” Cory Harbold’s custom Italian suit strained against his large belly, the man’s meat mitts clutching his briefcase close to his side. Waddling across the pavement of his firm’s parking lot, he finally reached the front door that had been unlocked ten minutes earlier by his front desk secretary.

  “How much longer until your job’s done?” Her rough voice finally evened out after the bout of coughing.

  “Tomorrow night.” I leaned forward on my forearms. “There’s some snazzy party over at the Solace.” My voice wavered at the mere mention of that wretched casino and resort, and I ground my teeth to keep my mouth shut while I centered myself. “How’s Nate?” When in doubt, reroute the conversation.

  “He’s good, they’re coming back from their ride this morning. Going to meet him at the compound.” Her face changed into a dreamy expression at the thought of her husband.

  Gross. I contained the grimace that tried to break through, but barely. A ding from my phone saved me from having to continue talking about the fiasco that was the concept of marriage.

  Dipshit: Got it.

  I tucked my phone back into my pocket, focusing on leisurely drinking the last of my coffee. I made sure to give it five minutes before I would head out with Abby.

  “Ready to go?” My tone remained at a normal volume, my husky voice abnormally cheerful. Nothing to see here folks, just two normal friends getting coffee like normal people. She nodded and rose from her seat. In the twenty minutes we were at the shop, the parking lot had mostly emptied. “You still need to hit up the store?” I asked as I climbed into Rocky, Abby’s red Chevy Colorado truck.

  “Yeah, just need to pick up a few things for the guys.” She started the vehicle and we made our way to the grocery store near the edge of town.

  Neutral colored businesses slowly transitioned into the residential neighborhoods and homes. The store’s exterior matched the continual pattern of greys, beiges, and tans that littered the rest of the streets. We walked the empty aisles grabbing items for Abby’s signature pasta dish before checking out. It was an oddly normal trip compared to what I was used to when I went out.

  The grocery store parking lot was nearly barren in the mid-morning sun. The weather had transitioned from warm to hot, making the stupid outfit I was wearing even more uncomfortable. A tug at the neck of my sweater wasn’t nearly enough to cool me down, so I abandoned that idea and helped load the last of the groceries into the open space of the cab. Taking the cart, I walked over to the return stall.

  I mean, I am an asshole, but I’m not that much of an asshole to leave the cart in the middle of the lot. My name being shouted by a distraught Abby caught my attention. Whipping my head around, I noticed three men attempting to shove Abby into an unlabeled van.

  Oh, hell no.

  Game on, fuckers!

  Sprinting, I tackled Bastard #1, a muscular guy holding on to Abby’s boots. We made contact with the cement, the burning of the rough surface cutting through my shirt barely noticeable due to my pumping adrenaline. Abby had wiggled a thin arm free and had scratched up Bastard #2’s face, blood welling up at the large, red welts. Arms clamped around my chest holding my elbows to my sides as Bastard #3 lifted me off his buddy’s groaning, barely conscious body.

  “We were only tasked with bringing the Aces’ bitch, but a two-for-one deal I’m sure will be appreciated.” Bastard #3’s voice was harsh and taunting as he lifted me further off the ground and toward the van. Kicking back, my geriatric-style tennis shoe made solid contact with his knee. As he screamed I was able to maneuver myself slightly from his ironclad grip, noting the patch on his vest.

  Prospect. Alloy Kings Motorcycle Club.

  Fucking 1%ers. I growled, kicking my heel back and up, hitting him squarely where the sun doesn’t shine. He lurched forward and released me so he could tend to his family jewels. He won’t be having kids for a while. I mentally applauded my efforts at the sound of his cries. I stumbled forward a bit but regained my composure right in time to see Bastard #1 get up and scurry like the bitch he was back into the van. Abby, who was fighting for all she was worth in Bastard #2’s arms, was being hauled over to the open van door. I threw myself at his back and latched on, distracting him enough to let go of Abby. She dropped and rolled out of his way like a pro and soon it was just me and Bastard #2. He attempted to grab me, but his large calloused hands missed as I jumped off. Several well-delivered punches later and Bastard #2 had retreated to their van with Bastard #3 hot on his heels, but before I could grab Abby and leave, Bastard #3 sucker punched me in the side of the head. Stars burst in front of my eyes as the van squealed its tires out of the parking lot.

  “Kiera!” Abby’s voice was the last thing I heard before slipping to the ground.

  Brooks

  “What the fuck do you mean our shipment was taken?” I snapped. My Road Captain, Nate, stood before me, his face taut with irritation.

  “Meaning exactly what I said, Boss.” Nate’s voice trembled harshly as he ground out the statement between clenched teeth. His anger radiating off him in waves as one of his hands curled and uncurled. “Our contact wasn’t at the drop, only this.” He held out the small piece of paper. Snatching it from him, I studied the crumpled page. A crown stared back at me.

  “God f
ucking damn it!” I kicked out, putting a hole in the plaster of the office. “Fucking Alloy Kings. These fuckers are really starting to piss me off.” Before Nate could respond, his phone rang loudly.

  “Not a good time, babe…” His bearded face paled significantly. “You almost here?” More silence rang out as he waited for an answer. “Good, we’ll meet you out front.”

  “What?” I scoffed. I had more important shit to take care of than whatever his Old Lady needed. Like these fucking bastards who think they can take our damned shipments out from under our nose.

  “Abby and her friend were nearly kidnapped at the store this morning,” he filled me in as we headed toward the front of the main compound building. The bar was empty and clean as Cheryl wiped down the lacquered surface erasing the last bit of evidence of the guys’ party last night.

  “And?” I knew there was more to it than what he had revealed. His lip twitched, his large beard shifting with the movement, before continuing.

  “She’ll explain, they’re almost here.”

  “They? We don’t need outsiders here.” Shooting a glare at Nate, I stepped outside into the hot spring weather, the desert dust glaringly bright in the overhead sun. I had to squint until my eyes adjusted from the stark change, the bar seemingly pitch black compared to the sunniness of Nevada’s outdoors.

  “Kiera’s good, Boss. I’ve known her as long as I’ve known Abby.”

  Swallowing my retort I focused on the familiar red truck as Abby pulled up. Her thin face was set in a scowl as she climbed out and headed toward us, her dark brown hair starting to fall out of her ponytail. There was a darkening bruise on her arms and a swatch of blood dried on her fingers.