by Ryan Michele
“I’m working on it. Every day is a challenge, but it’s coming.”
And it is, but it’s better and that’s what matters.
“Love you.” Green grabs me and sets me on his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tight to me. One thing about the clubhouse I love is I’ve never felt out of place here or that I didn’t belong. I’ve been accepted from the first day that Green brought me here. The guys don’t look at me with pity, and the women are strong. I like that, and it feels good to be around it and soak it in.
“Love you too. Just wait until we get home.”
Green smiles wide. It’s taken me a while to find my inner sexual being. It too, is a work in progress, but with Green, I feel safe to be and do whatever I want. I don’t cower hardly at all around him, but I still don’t flash my body out in public. But with Green, getting naked is just like coming home. I love it when he kisses my scars. I love it when he touches me lovingly. Hell, I love it when he’s a little rough at times. It just makes me happy being with the man I love.
“Oh, I don’t need to wait.” He kisses me, his hand resting on my leg. No, he doesn’t. He has his room here at the clubhouse.
“Oh shit,” Green says, his attention going over to Austyn and Emery at the bar. A man walks up to them with a woman who looks a lot like Emery with the blonde hair and blue eyes. It could be a clone if I didn’t know better.
“Who’s that?” I ask, the man in question walking right up to them like he knows them.
“That’s Micah, Tug’s boy. He doesn’t come around much because he doesn’t like the club. He shoulda stayed the fuck away,” Green grumbles as I watch the scene unfold and feel the tension form in Green. Whoever that guy is, he needs to leave if Green’s going to have this reaction to him.
Micah’s woman goes up to them and they do some idle chitchat, but Emery doesn’t seem to be into it at all. She stares forward for the longest time until Micah says something directly to her. Then she takes a shot, throwing it back.
That’s when, surprisingly, Jacks comes over to Emery, wraps his arm around her, and leads her away as if he’s done it every day in his life. It’s natural, not forced at all. Emery’s shoulders relax too, and she leans into him.
“What was that?” I ask Green.
“Jacks goin’ after what he wants. And now, I’m gonna get what I want.” Green picks me up, and my laughter can be heard over the music as heads turn to us. It’s a freeing feeling seeing their smiles directed our way. Knowing what we’ve been through and how we’ve come through the other end. Happy. Loving and together.
Green makes good on his demand, showing me just how loved I am.
The End
The story continues in Bound by Destiny the fifth book in the Ravage MC Bound Series. PREORDER HERE
Excerpt of PowerHouse
The following excerpt is from:
PowerHouse
Power Chain Book One
Preorder Now for $0.99 – price goes up to $3.99 on release day! HERE
Written By
Chelsea Camaron
And
Ryan Michele
please note the following excerpt is not edited and subject to change in the final version
If this was the diary of a mad-man, my road to Hell would be a dark and twisted one.
I am Onyx Blake.
I lived my life by a code with no loyalties and no fucks to give about anyone but myself and my business.
Welcome to the depths of power …
Power Chain Series
Authors Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele team up to push beyond the boundaries, going darker than ever before and crossing a line into a deep, dangerous, forbidden world. One where no one escapes, even if they beg to.
This is the Power Chain Series – a four book series of interconnected stand-alone romances.
- Power House (Power Chain Book One) – Feb 20 2018
No one denies me. Especially her.
She dismissed me.
That was her first mistake.
She thought I was a nice guy.
That was her second.
She had hope.
That was the final straw.
I am Onyx Blake.
I’m a powerhouse in an ugly underworld only found in her nightmares.
She’s going to learn quickly, I’m not the man to let anything go …
Including her.
Chapter One
Onyx
Absently, I flipped the zippo lighter in my fingers, open and shut, open and shut … waiting, listing to the sound of the click each time. I fucking hated waiting.
I looked at my shiny silver watch seeing each second tick by. Eighteen-oh-three. Jacob was three minutes late. Three minutes of my time wasted.
Timeliness was a particular thing for me. An association being late was an agitation I didn’t need.
The quiet, dimly lit restaurant being closed for the night was the perfect meeting place, no interruptions and no prying eyes. The smells of tomato sauce and garlic filtered through the air like they were embedded in the walls from years of use. This family owned place, not mine of course, knew the need for discretion in my business. As for family, mine didn’t exist, at least by any blood relation.
Standing, I slid the lighter into my pocket and made my way to the front door just as Jacob found his way inside, the door jingling from the small bell up above. With his face flushed and a look of fear, that he should have for being behind schedule, he waltzed in trying to hide his emotions only pissing me off more. Late didn’t register to me—no matter who it was--ever. Everyone in my business knew, I’m the one in power, in control, the king to my disciples. Don’t disappoint me, don’t make me wait, and damn sure don’t piss me the fuck off – everyone knew, including Jacob Cole. It’s the first thing we talk about when someone came to work for me and they signed it in blood.
He stood in front of me, but I didn’t look at him. Instead, I gazed just beyond him as if he doesn’t exist because to me he didn’t, not anymore. He had his chance to have my attention, to do his job. There were no second chances. There were no ‘get out of jail free’ cards. One time was all it took and he decided today was his day. This shit was done. He was done.
“Bossman, I’m sorry, I was negotiating.” He muttered and the words assaulted my ears like needles poking into center of the eardrums making them bleed.
I had just started moving and halted immediately at his statement. Instead of giving him my full attention, I maintained my eyes locked beyond the man just to my left rolling one word around in my head. One word that should never come from anyone’s mouth except for me.
Before I managed a reply, the man whined on, “The buyer wants to bail if they can’t see the merchandise now. Even a 3-D imaging will do they said.”
Turning my head, I stared at the trembling young man in front of me. Disgust, anger, and absolute disdain clouded my vision. We were far from evenly matched, nowhere near equal levels both physically and metaphysically. I’m tall at six-feet-four-inches, he’s a solid ten inches shorter. I was a ruthless businessman he was a peon in over his head. So I glared down on him in more ways than one. It’s how I preferred it and very few could match me in height to look me dead in the eye. Even those people had a hard time keeping my gaze.
Jacob had a slightly receding hair line and kept the rest of it short probably in preparation for losing it completely. Drops of sweat rolled down his face where his cheeks visibly quivered from his fear. I could smell the fresh menthol of his recently smoked cigarette. It drove me insane. What an absolute waste he was!
Three minutes late … three minutes he probably spent puffing away on his tobacco stick trying to calm his shit down outside, when he should have been in here facing me. Three minutes of my time he wasted for a cigarette. Fuck that shit.
He could smoke on his time, not mine. My time was money. My time was power. My time was mine … not his or anyone elses.
“Did you say? You
were negotiating?” I asked him with my voice firm.
He nodded then shook his head back and forth right behind it. Indecisive motherfucker. Which was it, yes or no? None of it fucking mattered, he was a dead man walking, his time about to end.
“Did you say the word negotiating?” I questioned again demanding more than a stupid fucking head bob. “Be clear, Jacob. This is a precise business. The answer is simply yes or no.”
“Yes sir,” he stammered, hands trembling as the sweat continued pouring down his face soaking his white collared shirt.
He should be scared.
Fucking terrified actually.
My reputation in this town demanded it and I owned it hard and fierce.
In a swift movement, I slid the blade from the hidden wrist cuff built into the sleeve of my shirt. Settling the metal in between my middle and ring finger, I gripped the shaft knowing the blade was sharp and ready to pierce. From there, I swung my fist down in a forward motion catching my intended spot as I curved up.
I never missed a target.
My intention was pain, slow torture, and to wake this motherfucker up. My business was mine. He didn’t have the authority to negotiate with a client. No one did, and Jacob would be a fine example to spread word around town to my people. Far and wide the word would expand reaching the depths of the underworld. A simple reminder, they worked for me, not the other way around.
I had the power.
The power of life and of death.
My hand settled only when the blade could go no further. His thighs shook around my fist like he might not be standing much longer. “Your cock lays to the left so you feel the pain straight to your balls right now.” I told him calmly while he cried out in agony. “Jacob, this business takes balls. Ones you clearly don’t possess.”
I yanked the blade out, and stepped away from my victim leaving him standing in a puddle of his own piss and blood. It trailed from his cock and balls all the way down his legs as he crashed down to his knees harshly.
He looked up at me with tears in his eyes, but unable to speak. I was certain the pain was unbearable, excruciating. It was intended to be. He blinked rapidly no doubt fighting to sort himself out, wanting to plead for mercy, yet fearing to in the same thought.
“Consider your services rendered. Your exit package will be delivered shortly, Jacob.”
He opened and closed his mouth before he could finally form words. “Please, Onyx. Please, give me another chance.”
Fucking pathetic.
Begging, not something I wanted to hear, ever. The only time I would listen to someone beg was a woman with luscious curves wanting my cock. I was always in charge.
Always.
A grown ass man begging with my name off his lips, that shit only pissed me off more by the second. When did men become such pussies?
“Onyx, please, I’ll do anything.”
Immediately, I shook my head. “No. Let me be clear since you have issues understanding. Your exit package will be delivered shortly – get your affairs in order Jacob. Quick.”
The way he’s fucked this deal up, I should deliver the death blow myself. He knew what he was getting into when he came into the depths, just like I did and every other individual in my association. The man assigned to Jacob’s exit understands his job, his role, and won’t listen to a single word the man pleads with to save his sorry ass. This was how my association worked – we each had a job to do and we did it. And we all made a fuck load of money doing it. We knew the fucking score and took that shit like grown men do. Jacob, he had gone soft. It’s a shame because when he started he had balls of steel. Alas, he’s made his bed, now he would lay in it.
Grabbing a cloth napkin from the nearby table, I swiped the blade clean before tossing the fabric back to the table.
Slipping the knife back in its holder inside my shirt cuff, I made my way to exit the restaurant. Jacob reached out grabbing at my legs to which I shrug off, turn around and nail him in the face so hard he falls to the ground completely.
“Be a man, Jacob Cole.” Those were my parting words as I stepped out into cool the night air.
On to the next. This was my life, my world, and it’s all completely under my thumb.
Chapter Two
Torryn
What the ever loving hell!
“Kennedy, answer the damn phone!” I yelled out at my phone before tossing it the passenger seat seeing it bounce once on the cushion. Could this day possibly get any worse? As soon as the thought entered my mind, I pushed it away. Everyone knew thinking things like that was just a recipe for everything going down the shitter further than it currently was. And I didn’t need any more bad luck—for a lifetime.
Knowing I didn’t want to go home and face my apartment where the bills would certainly be piling up soon enough, I decided to drive to my sister’s house since she wouldn’t answer. I needed her support right now, the kind only a big sister could give. The comfort of her arms around me telling me everything was going to work out was what I needed. We had always been close. I considered myself lucky to have her at my side.
Nothing was going right.
One step forward, twelve steps back on a continuous cycle of hell, that seemed to be the story of my life.
Eight months ago, our mother died with no life insurance, leaving us to handle the costs. Never having to deal with a funeral before, when the bills came all breath left me. Kennedy married a wealthy man, thank goodness, and he covered the expenses. I may not have liked Malcom, but he had taken care of my sister and at times me. While it was a blow to my pride to have to depend on them, I couldn’t help that life kept kicking me down every time I seemed to stand back up.
The drive passed in a blur as I fought with my emotions. My mom always said money don’t solve money problems. I still wasn’t sure that was correct, at least it didn’t feel like it. Kennedy would be the voice of reason. She would make all this seem not so bad. She would hug me and we’d eat ice cream. She’d help me come up with a plan to move forward. Kennedy had always been my go-to rock in life.
I mean graduating from college and losing your job while your student loan bills and life bills continued to pile up isn’t the end of the world, right? It’s just money, after all? Unfortunately, I didn’t have anyone else to fall back on but my sister. She got to be the lucky winner of my woes, but what the hell were sisters for if it wasn’t to be the reminder that life could always be worse?
It wasn’t like I got fired because I sucked and was a lazyass who didn’t do my job. It was some ‘last one hired is first one fired’ policy on layoffs and I was at the top of that list.
Graphic design – my passion. Kennedy told me to go for it and the work would come. That I could build myself up in the company and be able to take on my own clients. Maybe if I had a freelance business already built up like I originally intended before taking this job, I’d have a cushion. But right now, all I had was a whole lot of talent and nothing to eat – literally.
Pulling up to her house, I put in my code for the gate that swung open with ease. Parking my car behind the black Cadillac, I admired the beautiful ride before taking the steps up to the front door. It wasn’t a car I had seen before, but then again Malcom always kept my sister in the newest cars so maybe it was a gift. Entering the sprawling house, I rushed into the formal sitting room where Kennedy sat on the loveseat beside Malcom. I wasn’t thinking, I wasn’t paying attention. In fact, my mind filled with thoughts of sister talk and ice cream. I noticed him, but didn’t really register that he was home from work in the middle of the day. This wasn’t usual so my brain was slow to put things together as my mind reeled with my latest devastation.
She was in a royal blue dress, her blonde hair pinned back in an elegant way and makeup on point. Malcom sat beside her in a suit with his dark hair cut short and styled to the side. The room had this tension as I entered and a man stood from the couch. He was tall, definitely over six feet and towered over everyone in the room.
His dark hair was a buzz cut with just a little longer spiking on top. The charcoal suit he’s wearing was undeniably high end because of the way it hugged his body perfectly. The top two buttons to his white shirt were undone, trying to give a relaxed feel that didn’t come to me. I glanced quickly noticing some ink under the shirt, which typically wasn’t someone that Malcom and my sister would ‘hang out’ with. They were elitists. Not my sister by herself, but with Malcom they definitely stayed with what he would consider their class of people. Yeah, he was a pompous ass, but my sister wasn’t when she was alone. My eyes scanned upward to meet his.
They were dark. Not black, though. More like a deep blue, they drew you in, lured you like the depths of the dark ocean they seemed to swirl.
He extended his hand to me. “I’m Onyx Blake.” The deep baritone of his voice gave me butterflies in the pit of my belly, but something about him wasn’t right. The air didn’t calm, in fact, it was like he commanded the space. I knew better than that. Malcom never let anyone take charge over him and especially not in his home.
Shifting my gaze from Onyx’s, I didn’t shake his hand or reply. I was too on edge. The whole room, this scenario didn’t feel right. Instead, I dismissed him and looked to my sister, “Kennedy, sorry I came over unexpected. Can we talk a minute?”
Malcom’s face had fury etched in his features and swear his hands in fists were shaking. He had never looked at me like this before, most of the time it was with indifference. Sure, the man normally was standoffish, but what did I care? He made my sister happy and at the end of every day that’s all that mattered to me. He had taken care of us so I didn’t need to be his best friend or have him shout accolades for me, just respect him as my sister’s man.
“Malcom, it’s obvious you’re in a business meeting. I can wait in the guest room until it’s over. Sorry, Kennedy is just usually available. I didn’t realize she was in the meeting too.” I rambled out to my brother-in-law while Onyx Blake stood in front of me watching intently. Finally, he put his hand down, but he continued to study me as if he was trying to read me.