by Franca Storm
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgments
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
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Other Books by Franca Storm
Thank You For Reading!
SOULLESS
a BLACK THORNS novel
FRANCA STORM
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
SOULLESS. A Black Thorns Novel.
Copyright © Francesca Julia Gale (2015). All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.
Cover Design by Francesca Julia Gale
Cover images provided by:
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The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed”. Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book”.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My husband - for believing in me. You are my best friend, my greatest supporter, and the love of my life.
My lovely FB Chat Ladies - thanks for your friendship, your support and for teaching me so much.
Awesome Bloggers, Kathy N & Jodi S - I will never forget what you did for me and your kindness in supporting me after things went south. Thank you for that and thank you for your friendship. Kathy, your amazing support with Reckless and all my promo on my latest release means so much to me and I can’t thank you enough.
Nicole at IndieSage - thank you for everything, for all of your invaluable help with promoting this book and my author name.
Kimie & the ladies of Pussycat Promotions - for your kindness and friendship, for your hard work in pimping this book.
Lucian Bane – for your selfless act of kindness. You helped me out more than you know with what you did for me.
Angel P, Mary Orr, Sherri M & Emily R - thank you so much for all of your kindness and help with pimping my posts.
All the Blogs and the great FB Pages/Groups - thank you for helping me to pimp Soulless and spread the word.
My amazing fans - thank you for reading and thank you for your support. You guys are AMAZING!
Chapter 1
~Ax~
Thud. Thud. Thud.
My fists plow into the bag, the brutality of my hits echoing off the walls in the makeshift gym inside the clubhouse. A hard rhythm I can’t escape. And one I need. A goddamn distraction. Been this way for the last six months. Since the last time I saw her. Triggered some bad shit. Shit ‘bout that day.
Pounding the hell outta this bag should be enough to block it out. To focus my mind where I wanna and to keep it off things I can’t stomach thinking ‘bout. But it ain’t.
“I love you. Forever.”
“We ain’t dying, you got me? We ain’t fucking going out like this. I swear it, babe.”
Shit.
Get outta my head!
I pick up speed, ripping into the bag.
Can feel the skin on my knuckles breaking, cuz I didn’t take the time to put on gloves. I was fucking desperate to just rip into something.
“Hold on, beautiful girl. Hold on.”
Jesus. Why the fuck can’t I block it out?
It’s haunting me, day in and day out.
With all my years with the club, I’ve done shit that’d screw with most people’s heads. But it never affected me this bad. None of it. I took it all. Dealt with it. But now? Now this is what’s screwing with me, keeping me awake at night? What the fuck’s that ‘bout? Don’t make sense.
I deliver another couple of angry jabs then step back and wipe my arm across my forehead, soaking up the sweat pouring from me and burning my eyes.
Of course it makes sense. Haunts me, cuz I failed.
Couldn’t protect her.
Rox.
My girl.
Failed to protect what’s mine.
What was mine.
I slump down on the bench in the corner and snatch up a towel that’s thrown across it beside my shirt. I wipe the sweat off my chest and then I fire up a smoke.
Adrenaline’s coursing through me from my frenzied workout. But the endorphins ain’t doing fuck all. Nothing ever works. Ain’t no relief. Alcohol. Nicotine. Riding. Nothing. Sex? Yeah, that’s just more screwed up shit right there.
As Prez now, I got pussy being thrown at me every goddamn day. But even the best club whores ain’t doing it for me. Can’t fucking finish. Been over a year since I been able to get my rocks off with a woman.
Rox.
Just me and my hand getting the job done now. Whores I’ve tried to hook up with can’t get me there. Ain’t their fault, cuz a lot of ‘em got major skills. Nah, it’s me. Every time I get a feel of some pussy, thoughts of Rox take me over. Woman’s haunting me. Jesus fucking Christ.
Been over a year since I touched her and I still can’t shake her.
And I don’t want to. Still hanging on, cuz the woman is mine. Always will be even if we ain’t together. But not being together’s slowly killing me. Breaking me down.
Seeing her that day six months ago—her moving day—was a big mistake. I shoulda just left it, cuz I ain’t been able to see straight since. It triggered all the shit between us and, most of all, the fact that I failed to protect her.
The day of the crash.
I lost control of the truck. Me. I shoulda been able to find another way to shake those Mavs tailing us. I shoulda been able to protect us.
Instead, she got hurt real bad and we lost our kid.
Then I had to walk.
To keep her safe and to make damn sure she wouldn’t never be in a situation like that again. To protect her from my life. Thorns club life.
In that split second when I lost control of the truck, I fucking knew.
I was ‘bout to lose everything.
And time ain’t made it no better.
That’s why I’m working on the shit I am.
For the last six months, I been on it secretly. None of the boys know. Don’t wanna drag the club into it, cuz we’re operating legit all ‘round now.
I’m getting my girl back.
Just gonna take some time, cuz I gotta do it right. Keep her safe.
The door scraping open jolts me outta my thoughts.
I look up to see Smiter walking in.
I take a drag of my smoke and lift my chin at him.
“You all right?” he asks, eyeing my hands.
I look at ‘em. Yeah, my knuckles are shredded all right.
“Fine.”
Looks like he wants to say something more.
>
But he don’t. Knows me well by now.
But then his eyes stray to the tattoo on my chest. My Rox tattoo. Black angel wings cradling a rising sun. Between ‘em is one word: Rox. Used to call her my sunshine. My light in a world full of dark.
The regret in his eyes cuts into me and, before I can stop myself, I snap, “Stop fucking looking at it, yeah?”
I put my smoke down on the bench and snatch up my shirt, pulling it on over my head and hiding the tat. Smoke’s back a second later and I’m taking a harsh drag.
“Ax, listen—”
Nah. We ain’t going where he wants to. I cut him off, “We got a situation?”
Something’s gotta be up. Smiter’s Sergeant-at-Arms. Him walking in here so suddenly is a hell of a sign that we got some security issue. Or, we got a visitor.
“Dealer’s here,” he tells me.
Great. The last person I wanna see. Rox’s dad. Like I need any more brutal reminders of her. But I ain’t gonna show it to Smiter; not to any of the boys. I’m Prez now. Can’t be showing any weakness.
“Yeah? What’s he want?” I ask as I stub my smoke out on the concrete and cross to the door where he’s standing. I reach behind him and lift my cut off the hook there.
As I shrug it on, he tells me, “Didn’t say. Just wants a one on one with you.”
I nod.
“Got him waiting at the bar. Him and Mullet are catching up on old times.”
Shit, yeah. Mullet came up under him when Dealer was Prez. I heard that Dealer was the one who’d brought him into the club.
“Get one of the prospects to hook me up with something for these, yeah?” I say, gesturing to my knuckles. “Gauze or some shit.”
“Sure. You want me to sit in on this meet?”
“Nah. I’ll let you know if any of what he’s gotta say touches on security.”
“Grit?”
I made Grit VP a few months back, so normally I’d have him in with me. Same with Smiter. But I got no idea why Dealer’s even here, so no point bringing ‘em in on it ‘til I know if he’s here to talk club business, or just personal.
“Nah. I got this. I’ll see why he’s here first.”
“All right, Prez,” he says before walking out.
What the hell does Dealer want? If he’s come all the way up here to the clubhouse, it can’t be good. Coulda just called me if it were something small.
***
“Ax. Long time,” Dealer says, shaking my hand.
“Yeah, been a while.” I smile and walk ‘round my desk and slump into the old leather chair. He sits down opposite.
“Club looks good.”
Big compliment coming from him, as former Prez. “Thanks.”
“Had your work cut out for you with morale and shit after Trig’s betrayal. Boys are lucky they got you as Prez now. Coulda fallen apart without you at the helm. Took a good leader to pull it back, Ax. Not any guy coulda done it.”
“Guess it really is in my blood then,” I respond bitterly.
He flinches at my words. “I know you didn’t want it, but—”
“Why you here?” I demand, cutting him off. Can’t get into all that. Makes me angry just thinking ‘bout how I basically got forced into the Prez role instead of being able to walk like I wanted—with my girl and our kid.
His eyes bore into mine as he leans across the desk and tells me, “I know what you’re doing.”
“Got no idea what you talkin’ ‘bout.” Shit. Does he know? How would he? The boys don’t even know. Well, ‘til he says the words, I ain’t gonna admit to nothing.
“You made the mistake of coming through Brockford. My city now, remember? Rox handed her business over to me.”
Jesus. Don’t say her fucking name to me.
“Was just passing through.”
He scoffs. “Bullshit. I know who you were looking for. Riley. How far up your list did he make it? Top ten, yeah? Guy had a major beef with your old man. Skinner killed his sister. Never got his vengeance, but you’re still here, so you’ll be his target. If you walk. Not as Prez, though. Guy ain’t gonna risk taking on the entire club by going after you.”
He knows way too much.
He goes on, “Figure you got all their locations by now, yeah? Your hit list’s ready?”
I just stare at him.
He shakes his head. “Burn it. Now.”
My eyes narrow. “We got a good relationship going between us, Dealer. You keep talkin’ and I ain’t sure where that’s gonna end up. You feel me?”
Bastard don’t even flinch. “You’re going down a dark road. You ain’t gonna make it back.”
“My business.”
“No. It ain’t, cuz this shit’s ‘bout one thing: my daughter.”
“It’s ‘bout tying up loose ends.”
“Nah. This is ‘bout what I told you. ‘Bout it not being safe for Rox if you two are together, cuz of all the enemies you got—most cuz of Skinner. So, you figured you’d take ‘em all out. Remove those obstacles and then get her back.”
Jesus Christ. His reach is massive. The shit he knows. Shocking.
“Yeah,” I admit. He already knows. No point keeping up this bullshit now.
He leans forward and tells me, “Problem is; you do this, you ain’t gonna come back from it. It’ll twist you. You won’t be the same man. Won’t be the man she knew, Ax. Won’t be nothing left of you to be with her anyway.”
The door flies open then and Runner bursts on in.
“What the fuck, asshole? You don’t fucking knock?” I fume, shooting to my feet.
I’ve told him so many times ‘bout it, but it’s just a reflex with him to be too damn casual ‘bout shit.
I’m more pissed than I should be, cuz of the personal shit that’s gone down between us lately. I still ain’t forgiven him for the way he treated Rox when we were together. Every time I see him, I keep seeing the shit he said to her. Also came out ‘bout him laying his hands on her in my kitchen. Overheard him and Smiter talkin’ ‘bout it a few months back and I lost my shit—threw him across the bar and smashed a bunch of bottles and glasses and shit. Fucker had to get stitched up at the hospital. Ain’t best friends no more. Dickhead.
“Sorry,” he says, looking shit-scared. Probably thinking ‘bout those stitches. “We got trouble down at The Cove.”
Damn bar we own down by the docks. We got our fingers in a lot of pies here, in Reirdon Falls. We own a couple of bars. A diner. A used bike shop. We’re also in talks to take on ownership of Reirdon Construction. The company’s ‘bout to go belly up, so we’re looking to take it over, save all the jobs of the staff—all locals—and turn it ‘round and make a profit while we’re at it. Everything’s been running smooth with all the businesses, except The Cove. Been causing us grief for the last month, cuz of a staff member’s fucked up ex. Already had the boys put him down twice. Guy just keeps coming back for more beat downs.
“Ricky down there again?”
“With a fucking .45 caliber this time.”
“What?”
“Yeah, Prez. He’s holding up the place and demanding Vicky come outta the bathroom she locked herself in.”
“Smiter headed on down there?”
“Gonna. Just waiting on you.”
“Tell him to stand down. I got this.”
“Ax, I don’t think—”
“Didn’t ask what you thought. Go tell Smiter I got this.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“And it ain’t dangerous for Smiter?”
“Yeah, but you’re Prez. Putting yourself on the line is—”
“Tell. Smiter. I. Got. This,” I repeat, growling each word.
The look in my eyes has him bolting outta the room a second later. Yeah, he might push it sometimes, but he knows what’s good for him.
Dealer gets to his feet and eyes me worriedly.
“What?” I snap.
“Nothing,” he says, still studying me.
“Good. We’re done
here. Got shit to do.”
Chapter 2
~Ax~
As soon as I push through the doors into The Cove, Ricky spins, his .45 aimed my way. His eyes are wild. Fucking crazy eyes. Guy’s a real psycho. Different time—if we weren’t legit—I woulda had the boys bury him right away. We been playing it safe, just warning him. But he’s hit his third strike and I’m done playing nice.
Shit’s ‘bout to get real.
I scan the bar quickly. It’s early so it ain’t packed, but there’s still ‘bout ten people inside. All of ‘em are curled up in the booths, keeping low. Scared. Most of ‘em are women, too. Makes me sick to my stomach that this fuck’s got ‘em fearing for their lives. Ain’t no staff in view. Probably ran into the back the second they saw him walk in here with a fucking weapon. Good. They were safe.
“Take another step and I’ll shoot,” Ricky threatens, waving his gun at me wildly. “I will, you know? I swear it.”
“Believe you, man,” I say, holding up my hands. “You know who I am?”
He glances at my cut and his eyes widen as he takes in the President emblem there.
“You’re him? The President of the Black Thorns MC? Ax?”
“Yeah. So, you know I got a lot of pull here. Gonna help you.”
“How?”
“You want Vicky, yeah?”
“She won’t come out of the bathroom. She won’t listen to a damn thing I say.”
“I got some experience taming wild bitches like her.”
His eyes flicker as he thinks on that. “You think you can get her to talk to me? For real?”
“Let me take over here and she’ll be doing more than talkin’; be on her knees begging to suck you off,” I tell him. “Like this,” I say, snapping my fingers.
He snickers. “I like that.”
I point to the door. “Let’s take a walk and work this out. I’ll tell you exactly what you gotta do.”
My eyes are on his, but I’m keeping a close watch on his fucking gun with my peripherals more than anything else. I watch as he smirks, liking what I’m saying, and then lowers the gun. “Yeah, man,” he says, heading over to me by the door.