by Geri Glenn
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
A Note From the Authors
About the Authors
About Geri Glenn
Other books by Geri Glenn
About Kathleen Kelly
Other Books by Kathleen Kelly
Korrupted Angels
Geri Glenn &
Kathleen Kelly
Korrupted Angels
© 2016 Geri Glenn and Kathleen Kelly
All right reserved.
Korrupted Angels is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.
This book, or any portion thereof, may not be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Formatted by Shanoff Designs
Cover Designed by Wicked By Design
Dedication
For readers of the Kings of Korruption and the Savage Angels series. This one’s for you.
One
Gear
“Get the fuck off me, bitch.” I scowl down at the scrawny ass woman on the floor and yank my zipper back up. She’s been begging to suck my dick all goddamn night, and is apparently dumb as a rock, because I’ve run out of ways to say no.
The woman pokes out her lower lip and pouts up at me from under her clumpy looking eyelashes. “You sure, handsome? I have a neat little trick I can do with my tongue.”
Fucking club whores. Part of me will never understand why these clubs insist on paying these women to stick around the clubhouse. I like sex as much as any man, but no way in hell I’m shoving my dick into the same hole three of my buddies have been dipping their own into that very same night.
“Lucy,” a voice barks. “The man said no. Beat it.” I glance up to see Tease approaching, his scarred face aimed at the bitch on the floor. She lets out a huff and hobbles to her feet, her ankles wobbling in her too-tall heels. It takes her a moment to get her balance but when she finally walks away, it’s straight towards her next target. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he says, holding out a cold beer.
I take it from him and twist off the cap, tossing it on top of the battered table in front of me. I like Tease. He’s a man of few words, like me, which is something that’s hard to find amongst most of the other chapters. People talk too fucking much and never actually say a goddamn thing. They just like the sound of their own voices. Myself, I like silence.
“You stayin’ long?” he asks. It’s a good question, and one I don’t have an answer to just yet. I’ve been a Nomad member of the Kings of Korruption MC for almost ten years now, and not once have I found somewhere I’ve wanted to settle down. I like my freedom. I like riding long distances and the open road. I like being alone.
That being said, there are times, like now, when I start to miss my club. I miss the brotherhood. The connection the members of a chapter have is like family, and living like I do, always on the road, I never quite develop that level of connection with any of them. A Nomad life has many perks, but loneliness is not one of them.
“Not sure,” I reply, watching as Lucy grinds down on the lap of one of the club’s hangarounds, her movements sloppy and her hair all messed up. It’s obvious she’s wasted but the guy underneath her doesn’t seem to care one bit.
“We’re all headin’ out next week to the Sturgis Rally. You should come. Gonna be a good fuckin’ time.”
Sturgis. I haven’t been to a rally in Sturgis in years. Crowds aren’t usually my thing, and that rally is one of the biggest biker gatherings in North America. People come in droves to that tiny little town each year to party, camp and take in every kind of show you can fucking think of. Hundreds of thousands of bikers, motorcycle enthusiasts, women and hookers descend on that town with a vengeance, living it up in true biker fashion. It’s both an amazing experience and an overwhelming one for someone like me.
“You should come,” Tease’s old lady says, her hand out as she searches for the arm of the chair in front of her. Sometimes I forget that she’s blind. How that woman gets around with such confidence is a mystery to me, but she does, and she looks fucking fine doing it. Laynie is easily one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.
Her dog leads the way, using his body to press her towards the chair until she gets herself situated. Once she’s seated beside her man, she grins widely at both of us. “I can’t wait!” she gushes. “The Grinders are playing Saturday night. I’ve been dying to listen to them live. Kat is so badass. I want to be her when I grow up.”
Tease smirks and squeezes her knee. “Laynie’s a hardcore Grinders fan. When she heard they were playin’ Sturgis, she harassed the hell out of Ryker until he agreed to make it a club trip.”
“It wasn’t just me,” she says with a grin. “Charlie and Ellen did their share of begging. We all want to see the concert, and none of us has have ever been to a rally before.”
I feel the corner of my mouth tip up in a small smile. Laynie’s enthusiasm is infectious and I can’t help but think that maybe I should go. I’ve been looking for something new. Something to liven up my otherwise quiet life, and of all the chapters of the Kings, the guys at this one are by far the ones I tend to have the most in common with. Besides, I’m a Grinders fan myself. I wouldn’t mind seeing them live.
“Alright,” I say, leaning back in my seat. “I don’t have much for campin’ gear. You guys got shit here I can use?”
Laynie lets out a little squeal of excitement and Tease just smirks back at me. “Man, we got more shit than we know what to do with. Don’t worry about that. I’ll let Ryk know you’re taggin’ along and we’ll get ya hooked up.”
Laynie swallows down a healthy swig of beer and then throws her head back, closes her eyes and belts out the chorus to The Grinders number one song, Heaven.
“Glad you’re comin’ along, brother,” Tease says, his eyes on his woman. “We’re gonna need all the help we can get keepin’ an eye on these women.”
Two
Veronica
“Yes, Sir, I have the accommodation under control for the Sturgis Rally. There will be three buses, one for the band, one for the MC and one for you and anyone else who doesn’t fit in the other two.”
Dave turns around and smirks at me. For an older man he still looks good, the only signs of aging are his graying hair and laugh lines around his eyes. “Hmmm, only three buses?”
He’s testing me, The Grinders are his favorite band to manage and he hates the thought of his precious princess, Kat, slumming it. “Mr. Lawrence, three is enough, in fact I think we could do it with two. And before you ask again, no, the motels, hotels, everything is booked, years in advance. Are you going solo or am I coming with you?”
The grin on his face gets larger. “I’m not going.” He looks down at his desk and moves some papers around. “You’re going to be looking after them.” Dave looks up at me. “Is that a problem?”
Without any hesitation I say, “Of course not! This is what we do.”
Dave nods. “Good. Make sure they are protected. I know the Savage Angels are going to be there but take at least five bodyguards, one for each of them. My
only concern is the twins.”
The twins, Jesse and Kristen, are Kat and Dane’s children. Dave thinks of himself as their grandfather. “There is no way in hell that anyone will mess with Dane Reynolds’ children. He is the President of the Savage Angels MC, not to mention he’s built like a linebacker. Besides, there will be a lot of members there, they will be fine.”
Dave pins me with a look. “They had better be.”
I wave a hand in his direction, pick up my briefcase and head for the door. I open it, turn and wink at Dave. “I’ll take care of them, Sir, and I’ll keep you updated throughout the rally.”
“Veronica?”
“Yes, Sir?”
“For the love of God, call me Dave.”
It’s a running joke between us. I have never, nor will I ever, call him Dave. For me it’s a matter of respect. “I will try, Sir.”
Dave chuckles, I close the door and walk toward my office. In one way I’m glad that he’s not coming, as he fusses over Kat and her children, but with him not there, everything will land squarely on my shoulders. If anything goes wrong I won’t have a safety net. Not that I should need one. I’ve been working for Dave for years now, slowly, he’s given me more and more responsibility. The Grinders are his crowning glory, so for him to let me look after them, by myself, even for a short time, proves all my hard work, late nights and attention to detail are paying off.
As I sit down behind my desk, the phone rings. “This is Veronica.”
“Hey, Veronica, it’s Kat.”
It’s not unusual for Kat to ring me but Dave is the person she normally calls upon. “Yes, Kat, what can I do for you?”
“I was wondering if you are going to be partying with us?” asks Kat.
Her question takes me by surprise. “Ahh, no. I’m working.”
“Veronica, it’s a rally. They’re lots of fun. You’re single, there’ll be plenty of available men and when was the last time you had a holiday?”
This again. Kat finds it necessary to remind me that I haven’t had a holiday for as long as she’s known me. I’ve worked too damned hard to let someone else walk in and take over. No one is ever going to take what’s mine away from me.
“Kat, I will have a holiday but this isn’t the time. Dave has entrusted me to look after you and the rest of The Grinders.”
“I know but I’m going to have a good time. I’ll be surrounded by the MC and Dane,” Kat chuckles, “it’s going to be a fun time, trust me. You should try letting your hair down.”
Laughter escapes me. “Kat, work for me, is fun. I love my job.”
“But -”
“No but’s. Now, before I hang up, is there anything else I need to know?”
I hear Kat sigh on the other end of phone. “No Veronica, I just hope you have a good time.”
“How could I not? I’m working with one of the best bands in the industry at one of the biggest events in the country. It’ll be a blast!” I say trying to express my enthusiasm.
“You know Veronica, you’re right, it will be a blast,” replies Kat as she hangs up the phone.
I’m left sitting there staring at it, wondering what the heck she meant by that last comment. I mentally give myself a shake and place the phone back in its cradle. Scrolling through emails there’s nothing that needs my immediate attention so I close it down and head for home. I have a lot to pack, I pride myself in my appearance. I’m five foot six and haven’t eaten dessert in a year. Keeping this trim is hard work and I always try to make it look effortless, this trip will be no exception.
Three
Gear
The first thing I notice when we arrive is that Sturgis has become a much busier spot since I’d last been here. The crowd is enough to overwhelm me. Everywhere I look there are tents and motorcycles and parties going on. It’s loud and busy and everything I normally try to stay away from. Why had I agreed to come here?
The Kings had reserved their camping area long ago, which means we end up getting a pretty prime spot. It’s set at the edge of the campground with trees wrapping around behind us, meaning at least we aren’t completely surrounded by drunk bikers and their bitches.
Not wanting to be in the middle of it all, but wanting to stay close to my brothers, I find myself a little clearing amongst the trees, just off of the Kings site and away from the worst of the action. My own private little sanctuary.
I’m just finishing setting up my tent when the roar of motorcycles, followed by several tour buses pull in. About fifty feet and a fairly dense tree line is all that separates me from the site they’re approaching. It’s the most private site they can get, not to mention huge. Those buses need it though. They’re massive. Like mini-mansions on wheels, and all three of them take over the space as they pull into the site, parking in a semi-circle around the fire pit.
I watch as they come to a stop and wait for the doors to open. Before they even get a chance, rustling leaves and feminine squeals peal out from behind me. I turn and watch as the old ladies to most of the Kings come barreling towards me, glee spread on each of their faces, their eyes shining with excitement.
“It’s them!” Charlotte cries, ignoring me completely and tugging along on poor Laynie’s hand. Charlotte is Ryker’s old lady, and usually pretty mellow compared to most other MC president’s old ladies. Apparently not today though. Laynie stumbles along behind her, one hand in Charlotte’s, one gripping the harness handle attached to her service dog, Dexter.
“Slow down,” she giggles. “You trying to kill me?”
“Sorry,” Charlotte says, the distraction evident in her voice as she stops beside me and peers through the trees. “Holy shit,” she whispers. “We’re camping right next to The fucking Grinders!” She looks up at me and her entire face lights up with a grin, her cheeks flushed with anticipation. “We’re all huge fans,” she tells me, as if it wasn’t obvious.
The “we” she refers to must be the other ladies that surround me, trampling all over my tarp as they try to get a peek at their favorite rock stars. The VP’s old lady, Ellen, and the Sergeant At Arms old lady, Anna, are also gaping through the gaps in the trees.
Their closeness sets me on edge, but their excitement is infectious. Anticipation is heavy in the air as we all turn our silent focus to the bus doors. One of them is opening. “Oh my God,” Charlotte breathes, reaching out to grip my arm, as if I’m just one of the ladies. “We’re about to see Kat in person!”
The bikers are just getting off their rides and I watch as one of them heads right for the third bus. He’s a big, tall, tattooed, behemoth of a man wearing a Savage Angels MC patch on his cut. It’s no secret that Kat from The Grinders is the old lady to the president of the Savage Angels. Their relationship became front page news a while back when Kat found herself the target of a dangerous stalker.
“Should we go say hello?” Anna asks.
I don’t know what their answer would have been, but I know what it should be and I don’t hold back in sharing. “Fuck no. You think a bunch of MC protected rock stars are gonna be open to a bunch of strange women rushin’ them the second they get off that fuckin’ bus?”
All four women stand silent, looking back at me like I’d just taken away their favorite toy. They don’t argue though. Properly chastised, they stand watching as one person after another files off of the buses, Charlotte describing every detail to Laynie, being her eyes. Finally, from the third bus, she appears. The women gasp around me and Charlotte goes back to gripping my arm, but this time I don’t even notice.
I don’t notice because my attention is on the woman that stepped off the bus behind Kat. I’d never seen her before, and she was definitely no rock star. Rock stars don’t usually wear dark business suits with skinny little skirts. Rock stars don’t usually have glasses perched at the end of their noses. And rock stars usually have a ton of hair, but this woman has her blonde locks pulled back in a bun so tight, it almost looks severe. No, she doesn’t look like a rock star at all. What she
looks like is the CEO of some powerful company. The kind that takes no prisoners. She’s fucking magnificent.