Satan's Fury MC Boxed Set: Books 5-8

by L. Wilder

  I had to hold it together.

  I took a deep breath and stared straight ahead, trying to get a grasp on my raging libido. As we drove down that long, dark road, I couldn’t help but think that I wouldn’t have even met my handsome stranger if that stubborn Mr. Evan Abrams had just returned my phone call. I would’ve been home soaking in a nice, hot bath instead of hunting down some house in the country. But nothing ever seemed to be that easy with the people in Clallam County. I’d only been working at Smith, Wells, and Daniels Law Firm for a few months, but I already figured that some folks were just hard to deal with. As the newest associate, I was stuck managing all the cases the partners didn’t want to handle, so it was no surprise that things weren’t going exactly as planned with this one. There was a reason none of the others wanted to deal with the Abrams family, but it didn’t matter. I had one thing on my mind: locate the son and finalize the will, period. I was determined to prove to all the men in the office that I could handle the Abrams family and whatever else they threw my way. Knowing that I couldn’t afford to waste any time, I decided it was time to pay Evan Abrams a visit in person. From what I could tell, none of his family members—not even his sister—had been able to reach him, so he had no idea that his dad died a few weeks back. Since the day I was given the case, I’d been trying to sort the Abrams’ family estate, and I needed to let his only son know that he and his sister had inherited the family home along with all of the land and his father’s money, including his stocks and bonds. It was going to be difficult to tell a complete stranger that his father had passed away, but it had to be done. I was on my way to notify him when I got lost, which led me to locking my keys in my car at Mikey’s Diner… which led me to getting on the back of Mr. Stud Muffin’s bike. I was so screwed.

  I was just starting to see the lights from town when he slowed the bike and yelled over his shoulder, “Where are we headed?”

  I sighed, realizing that I was about to tell a complete stranger where I lived, but I decided to throw caution to the wind. I knew my dad was working the night shift at the precinct and my brother, Brandon, was probably sleeping. He was still trying to get over some stomach bug.

  I leaned forward with my chin close to his shoulder and shouted over the loud rumble of the bike’s engine, “I live on East Park Avenue. It’s the blue house at the end of the street on the right. Number 601.”

  “Got it,” he answered as he put his hand back on the accelerator, exposing several dark colored leather bracelets stacked along his wrist.

  The wind caught my breath as he sped down the long, deserted road. My body began to tremble from the chill of the night air, making me feel a tad guilty for taking his jacket. I knew he must be freezing, but I couldn’t imagine how cold I would be without it. Feeling a little guilty, I leaned forward, placing my mouth close to his ear as I said, “Thanks for the ride… and for letting me wear your jacket.”

  “Not a problem, doll,” he shouted.

  I found myself wishing that the ride would last just a bit longer. I liked being on the bike with him. When we were kids, my brother would take me out riding all the time. He’d take me out on his dirt bike, exploring all the trails and woods in Cullman, Alabama, where we grew up. Eventually he managed to save enough money to buy his first motorcycle and he’d take me out from time to time, but it had been ages since I’d been out for a ride. We’ve both been too busy to even think about it. After we moved to Washington with our dad, we’d both gone to college and started our careers. Even though we lived in the same house, we rarely crossed paths, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d even laid eyes on my dad. Since he became the police chief, he was always busy investigating some case. No matter how small the crime, my dad treated it like a capital offense. It was just the way things were with him. He expected no less than everyone’s best at all times, no excuses.

  My heart started to race when he pulled onto my street. The bike’s engine seemed louder than ever as we continued down the quiet street and headed for my house. I had no idea what I was so worried about. After he dropped me off, I’d never have to lay eyes on him again. I just had to get off the bike, say thank you, and get my butt in the house. Simple enough—or so I thought.

  When he parked next to the curb and turned off the engine, I eased myself off of the bike and said, “Thanks again for your help. I really do appreciate it.”

  “Not a problem.” He opened his saddlebag and reached inside for my purse. As he offered it to me, he said, “Glad I was there to help.”

  I took it from his hand and gave him a bashful wave as I started towards the front door. After taking a few steps, I realized that I was still wearing his jacket, so I quickly slipped it off and walked back over to him. My face blushed red as I said, “Umm… You might need this.”

  He hesitated for a moment, and a strange look crossing his face as he reached out and took the leather jacket from my hand. After he put it back on, he gave me a slight nod and, without another word, started his bike and drove off.

  Disappointment washed over me as I watched him vanish out of sight. He hadn’t asked for my number. He hadn’t even asked for my name. He just took off like he was relieved to be rid of me, and I hated that it bothered me so much. I couldn’t shake the regret that was building in the back of my mind. I wanted to know more about the enigmatic stranger, and the part that got to me the most was that I wanted him to want to know more about me as well. Yep, I was off my rocker.

  Berating myself all the way to the front door, I stepped inside and found my brother lying on the sofa with a cold rag on his head. He looked like death warmed over, so I tried not to get too close as I asked, “Hey, bro. You feeling any better?”

  “I’m fine,” he grumbled. Even though he was two years older than me, owned his own construction company, and could take on a pack of wolves with his bare hands, the man acted like a big ol’ whiny baby whenever he was sick. On days like this, he was just downright pitiful. So I did my best to avoid him at all costs when he wasn’t feeling well.

  “Okay, then. You sure you don’t need anything?”

  “Nah,” he murmured with his eyes closed. “I’m fine.”

  As I headed for the stairs, I said, “Okay, suit yourself. I’m headed to bed.”

  I’d just hit the first step when he asked, “You gonna tell me who that was?”

  “Who?” I knew exactly who he was talking about.

  “The guy on the 2015 Limited Edition Harley Road Glide Special that just pulled up to our house and dropped you off?”

  “Oh… umm… I don’t know. Just some guy. I had a little car trouble, so he offered to bring me home,” I explained.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  Knowing he’d crawl all over me for locking my keys in the car, I lied, “I knew you weren’t feeling well, so I just—”

  He yanked the rag off of his forehead and sat up on the sofa. He reminded me of our father as he glared at me with his dark brown eyes and bellowed, “Dammit, Marley Jo. Who knows who this guy is? He could’ve–”

  Before he could continue, I held up my hand and shouted, “Don’t even start with me, Brandon. I managed to survive just fine, and I don’t need a lecture from you… or Dad.”

  “You got lucky this time.” He coughed and grumbled as he fell back on his pillow and placed the rag back on his forehead. “Where’d you leave your car? I’ll go take a look at it in the morning.”

  I knew he’d ask. He always asked. It was one of the many negatives of living in the same house with two overbearing men. When Mom died, I had thought moving in with my dad was the best way to help him. I needed a place to stay; I’d just graduated from law school and started my job at the firm in town. It just made sense. Then, Brandon had decided to build a house and moved in with Dad when construction began. It was good to be all together again, but now the house seemed so much smaller than it did when we were kids. All sense of privacy was gone. If Brandon found out I didn’t have my keys, he’d have a
cow. So I did the only thing I knew to do: I lied.

  I walked over to the front door and locked the deadbolt as I said, “I’ve already called a wrecker service. I knew you weren’t feeling good, so I just told them to go out there and get it.”

  “Why’d you go and do that? Do you have any idea how expensive that is?”

  “I do… and I said I took care of it,” I told him as I turned and stormed up the stairs, avoiding any chance that he’d tell me to cancel the tow. Once I was in my room, I quickly threw on my pajamas and curled into bed. I was exhausted, but there was no way I was going to get any sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about him—the sexy curve of his lips when he smiled, the intoxicating scent of his cologne, the spark in his eyes when he looked at me, and the way my body tingled when I got on his bike and wrapped my arms around him. Every breath I took brought on another thought or memory, and there was nothing I could do to stop it, and I wasn’t so sure I wanted to. I liked the way I felt when I was with him.

  I stared at the ceiling for hours, reliving every moment I’d shared with him, and the longer I lay in the bed, the harder it was to stay there. I decided to stop fighting it and got up. I put on my bathrobe and once I had my slippers on, I headed downstairs to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. It was early, long before my dad or brother would be getting up, so I decided to take advantage of the quiet. While my coffee was brewing, I headed out to the front door to get the morning paper. As usual, it just barely made it to the porch and was teetering on the side of the deck. I picked it up and was just about to step back inside when I noticed my car pulling into the driveway. I stood there and watched as it stopped right at the garage door. The door opened, and a tall, muscular man with a baseball cap and cowboy boots, looking like he’d been plucked right out of a cotton field in Tennessee, stepped out of the car. I was a little taken aback to see Farmer John walking towards me.

  As he reached the front steps, he smiled and said, “We got your car for ya.”

  “We?” I cocked my head to the side and studied him for a moment before I asked, “Umm… and who are you?”

  “Oh… I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m Boozer. One of the brothers from the club. Smokey wanted me to get your car back to you before you had to go to work, so…” he told me as he extended his hand out to me. I could only assume that the Smokey he was referring to was the biker guy from last night. I thought back to those gorgeous, blue eyes and that black beard and wondered how he’d managed to get the nickname Smokey. I was lost in my thoughts when Boozer continued, “Here ya go.”

  I took the keys from him. “Thank you… umm, Boozer. I really appreciate it. How much do I owe you?”

  “Not a thing, Sweet Pea. Smokey took care of it.” Then he started walking towards the road. Just as he reached the sidewalk, a black SUV pulled up next to him. Before he got in the truck, he waved at me and shouted, “Let us know if you need anything else.”

  Before I could stop him, he slammed his door. Goosebumps began to prickle against my skin as the truck inched away from the curb. Feeling a strange sensation that I was being watched, I pulled my robe tighter around my waist and stared at the dark-tinted windows, trying to see if I could make out who was sitting in the driver’s seat. Warmth rushed over me when I noticed a familiar dark beard and a wrist covered in the same leather bracelets I’d seen last night.

  It was him. I couldn’t stop myself from watching the SUV as it slowly made its way down the street, and I suddenly became scared that it might be the last time I’d ever see my mysterious biker.

  Chapter 3

  Smokey

  We’d been working day and night trying to prepare for the club’s new pipeline, doing everything we could to ensure things ran smoothly. The club had never taken on such a large job. Our distribution would almost triple, and if everything didn’t go as planned, we could lose it all. The stress was beginning to take its toll on all of the brothers, including me.

  I had enough on my mind with just trying to manage the prospects and following Cotton’s endless list of orders, and the last thing I needed was to have a run-in with some sexy-as-hell, out of my league chick. The pipeline was too important. I couldn’t afford to have anything distracting me, so I did what needed to be done. I dropped her off and got the hell out of there. I planned to get her car back to her, and then that would be the end of it.

  But it wasn’t. Not even close.

  I tried to push thoughts of her to the back of my mind, but that hint of her perfume still clinging to my cut made it impossible to forget. It was a constant reminder of how good she looked wearing my leather and the regret I felt when she returned it. The lustful look she gave me when I took it from her hand made me want to pull her close, feel the warmth of her body next to mine as I slammed my mouth against hers, and let go of all restraint. Just seeing that hopeful look in her eyes, like she wanted me to forget the insurmountable differences between us and give in to the pull I felt from her, ripped at me, and I almost lost it. She got to me in a way I didn’t expect. I thought I could just put it behind me, pretend that the night had never even happened, but when I caught sight of her up on that porch, I knew I’d never forget. Those long, tan legs taunted me from underneath that silk bathrobe, making me wish they were wrapped tightly around me, and I wanted nothing more than to stop that truck and go to her.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t get distracted, at least not at the moment. My focus had to be on the club, especially now. I had a meeting with Cotton first thing to discuss patching in three of our prospects. While Boozer and Two Bit had both shown their loyalty to the club, Boozer was young and green. He still needed a lot of direction and took risks that he shouldn’t be taking. He had to prove that it would be a benefit to the club for them to patch him in, and unfortunately for him, that hadn’t happened yet. Q’ was a different ballgame. He never failed to go the extra mile without being asked, and he had a good head on his shoulders like Two Bit. He had a tendency to run his mouth from time to time, but I respected the fact that he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. They were all good guys, and to me, they were already brothers. But it wasn’t up to me to decide; their patch and future with the club was up to a vote.

  I knocked on Cotton’s office door, and after I’d been given the okay to enter, I stepped inside. Guardrail was sitting in front of the small, wooden desk with his back angled against the back of the chair and his foot propped up on his knee. He gave me a chin lift as I sat down next to him. Once I was settled, Guardrail leaned over to me. “Heard you had a long night.”

  “I did… but I’m good,” I replied, trying my best to ignore the taunting grin he had plastered on his face. “Here for whatever needs to be done.”

  “Good. We’ve got lots to settle before tonight,” Cotton answered. “We’re putting Q’ and Two Bit up for a vote.”

  “And Boozer?” I asked, just checking to be certain.

  He shook his head. “Not his time.” He paused, then continued, “The kid’s head is in the clouds. Needs to focus and realize that every time he sticks his foot out that door, his life is on the line… along with all of ours.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I’ll talk to him.”

  Cotton’s decision not to bring up Boozer for a vote made sense to me. It wasn’t his time, not even close, and I felt confident that Cotton would wait until he was certain that our youngest prospect was ready to take on the patch. There was no doubt Boozer would be disappointed, but he’d wait. They’d all wait if they had to. They’d gotten a taste of the club life, and there wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do to protect it.

  Cotton’s eyes dropped to his desk as he glanced over the large stack of papers that continued to pile up. I could see the concern in his eyes, so I asked, “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  “Get with Maverick and Clutch and head over to the warehouse. Give the place a good onceover. Want to make sure everything is set for tomorrow’s delivery.”

  “On it.”

  “Big Mike is alrea
dy there. He’s installing a few more cameras and motion sensors. I don’t want anyone coming or going without me knowing it. No excuses,” he ordered. “Get back to me when it’s done.”

  “You got it, Prez,” I told him as I stood to leave.

  Relieved to have a distraction, I headed out of the office door and towards the kitchen in hopes of finding Clutch or Maverick. When I walked in, Henley was sitting at the table with Dusty, Skid’s youngest, while Maverick was at the stove making them breakfast.

  With his shaggy, long, blond hair falling down around his eyes, Dusty gave Henley a serious look as he listened to her say, “I don’t know, Dusty. That game might be too much for you.”

  “Devin plays it,” he grumbled. “He says it’s fun.”

  She ran her hands over her round belly as she explained, “Maybe so, but the graphics on that game are pretty intense. You know how I love to play those games, but that one… I just can’t. Those zombies freak me out.”

  “Dombies aren’t so bad,” he huffed.

  Maverick turned to face them. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see what your mom says.”