Wicked Revenge: A Wicked Angels MC Novel
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Wicked Revenge
Wicked Angels MC #1
Zoey Derrick
Contents
Also by Zoey Derrick
Foreword
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Part Two
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
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
COVER
Cover Model: Jeff Hoffman
Photographer: Bob Vanderford Photography
Cover Designer: Designs by Dana
Formatting Design (e-book & paperback): Parajunkee Design
Editing: Raw Books Editing – Mandy Smith
©2017 Zoey Derrick – Kinky Panda Publishing
All rights reserved.
Characters, places, names, faces, are strictly fictional and a product of the author’s imagination and protected under copyright law. Selling, distributing or posting on pirate sites is highly illegal without written permission from the author. So, don’t do it. Do not share with your friends, family or people you’ve never met before.
ISBN: 978-0-9989376-1-8
Also by Zoey Derrick
Contemporary Romance:
Finding Love’s Wings
Chasing Love’s Wings
Stand-Alones:
Irresistibly Undeniable
Fractured Breaths
Contemporary Erotic Romance:
One Week - Standalone
Erotic Romance:
Claiming Addison
Craving Talon
Redeeming Kyle
Taming Dex
Devouring Raine
Defining Us
Contemporary Erotic, M/M Romance:
Aryn’s Desire
Caden’s Command
Paranormal Romance:
Give Me Reason
Give Me Hope
Give Me Desire
Give Me Love
For Emily & Shelley - Thank you for inspiring and encouraging me to write this one. But most of all, for telling me that I didn’t suck at it. Love you both!
Foreword
The Wicked Angels Motorcycle Club was formed in 1970 by three brothers who enjoyed the ride. They wanted nothing more than to turn that ride into a lifestyle that would feed their families.
The club quickly grew and they branched out beyond the borders of Arizona.
One brother moved to Boulder, Colorado, taking a few senior members with him.
The other brother went to Roswell, New Mexico where he set up his own charter.
The eldest brother stayed in Arizona with the main charter.
Life went on, children were born and the club grew by leaps and bounds.
By the mid-eighties, the Wicked Angels were well-known throughout the West and had many alliances with other area clubs, but they also gained even more enemies. The Wicked Angels did things differently and that pissed people off.
Sure, they have their hands in legal and illegal business practices, but they are some of the most hardcore one percenters around.
When the original three founding members became too old to ride, they stepped down, handing their charters over to their sons. Big Daddy D, Sticks and Tripp.
Tripp is dead. The New Mexico charter is in shambles. At the time of his death, his eldest son, Tryke, though he had the respect of the New Mexico members to become President, wasn’t old enough to sustain the club. So, the club was handed over, albeit temporarily, to Rooster, VP of Roswell. As Tryke grew older, he learned the business, gained respect and had the attention of the entire charter. They looked up to him, went to him for answers and came to him with concerns about the direction of Roswell.
Rooster, sensing he was about to be pushed out, made his move first.
Part One
Chapter One
Where it all begins…
“Why? Why are we doing this again, Kellen?” I beg. “We’ve been over this a million times.”
He grabs me by my shoulders. “Because, you need to listen to me. You need to know what to do in the event that something happens to me in order to save yourself, to protect yourself.”
“Jesus, Kell, you’re acting a fool here. I know what I have to do, but I don’t understand why you’re making this such a big damn deal right now,” I whine.
“Because you’re not listening to me, Lily-bean.”
I fight the prickling of tears in my eyes. “I am, but I don’t care, nothing is ever going to happen to you,” I tell him with false conviction.
He turns on me, hard. “You can’t say that. You don’t know that.”
“Then why are you so convinced that something is going to happen to you?” I beg him to explain this to me, but I know it’s feeble. He’s never been very forthcoming with me and odds are good that this has something to do with club business, which means his lips are sealed.
“Just promise me, please?” he begs.
“Fine,” I snap and go charging for the back door.
Kellen grabs me hard around the upper arm and pulls me back. “Lily, don’t! I need you to stay here,” he snaps before slamming the inside door shut.
“What the hell is your problem?” I argue with him. My blood pressure is rising with each tick of my heartbeat.
Kellen never treats me like this.
My brother is pissed and on edge for reasons I don’t know or understand. If this is club business, I’ll never know. According to Kellen, my place isn’t in the club, but in school and eventually away from here.
“What’s wrong with you?” I all but growl at him.
“Nothing,” he snaps before opening the door again. I follow him, but he slams the door in my face as he marches into the back yard. “Stay inside,” he hollers through the closed door.
Where’s he going? He never goes back there.
I turn around, racing for the stairs and my room. It’s on the backside of the house and I can see him better from up there.
Time seems off. Like I’m living in a dream. Running slowly through murky water, but I’m not. Something is going down and I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around what it is. It irks me to know that Kellen is keeping me in the dark. If something’s about to happen to him, the least he could do is tell me instead of being pissed at me for wanting answers.
I reach my room and slam my door shut behind me. In the off chance he hears me, he’ll know I’m pissed at him, but he knows my anger towards him never lasts.
My brother has done some fucked up things in the past, but I can’t stay mad at him.
He’s all I have left.
Pissed off and irritated, that seems to be the nam
e of his little game the closer I get to eighteen. I already graduated from high school. I spent too much time in my room studying and overachieving because it kept my mind occupied and kept me busy.
In a little over a week, my choices are my own.
I’ve never made a secret about my desires to be a part of the club. It’s something I’ve always wanted, ever since I was a little girl, and he knows that once I’m eighteen, technically, he can’t stop me. Over the last four or so years, I never could understand his desire to keep me out of club business, but he’s done everything in his power to do just that. He won’t talk about it to me. Every time I broach the subject with him, he gets pissed, he shouts and stomps off. We were raised in the club, he’s a part of it, why can’t I be, too?
In a way, I understand why he doesn’t want me around the club. Four years ago, when I was only thirteen, our mom and dad were killed. Though Kellen tells me it was a car accident, I knew better then and even more so now. The only true explanation for it is that something happened inside the club’s walls that changed the dynamic of the Wicked Angels MC. I tried for years to convince myself that it truly was a car accident and nothing more, but that’s hard to fathom when mom and dad never drove a car unless I was with them. When they went anywhere without me, they were always on dad’s bike.
Up until their deaths, I’d always been surrounded by my brother, his friends, my parents and their friends, and extended club family. I was old enough to catch onto a lot of conversations going on between the older people, yet young enough to be naïve about the things they were talking about.
Kellen is nine years older than me. He was twenty-two when our parents died which meant he was old enough to take care of me. He was also old enough to be a fully patched member of the Angels.
Within a couple weeks of our parents’ passing, Kellen started disappearing for long periods of time. There were many days when I heard him leave long before I had to get up for school, and other times when he wouldn’t come home until sometime in the middle of the night. I learned quickly that even though Kellen was old enough to care for me, to keep me out of the state system, he didn’t do a very good job at taking care of me. Unless you count the roof over my head, the clothes on my back and a kitchen full of food, then I guess he did alright. I fed myself, did my own laundry, cleaned the house and made sure my homework was done. Kellen was here, but I was on my own.
A couple of years after their deaths, Kellen started staying around more. He was home more often and things seemed to be settling into a routine. Though he would be home for dinner, that I cooked, he often took off shortly after and wouldn’t come home until three or four in the morning.
His being around more meant Kellen and I got into many arguments about school work. In the beginning, I argued that I didn’t need school because one day I was gonna be an old lady. That sent Kellen over the edge. He refused to let me anywhere near the club and all but told me that being an old lady was for whores. He never explained to me why I wasn’t allowed around the club, or why no one ever came around the house anymore. I haven’t seen any of the men or women who used to come over for summer bar-b-q’s, and holidays got lonely with just Kellen and me. It was like when my father died, so did the rest of my family.
I didn’t understand why.
Kellen spent his life consumed with business, Wicked Angels MC business. It’s where my father used to spend his days, too, and somewhere I was never allowed to go.
So, I went to school, I made friends, I did everything to fit in, but something always nagged at me. I never fit in with anyone. I always felt like an outsider with them and until the last six months or so, I could never understand why.
The club is where I belong. I’m the daughter of a Wicked Angels leader.
I haven’t stepped foot inside that clubhouse since I was thirteen, but I know where I belong. My mother was an old lady and she was happy to be just that. My father was a badass biker who loved my mother more than life itself, and I want that.
My attention is brought back to the reason I came up here when I see Kellen come out from between the trees that create our property line in the backyard. I watch as he paces around the backyard, something he rarely does unless something is really bothering him. He has light brown, almost dirty blonde hair that is cut short on the sides. Around the time mom and dad died, he wore it in a faux-hawk cut. But now he keeps the sides short and the top, from his forehead to the base of his skull, is longer, too long to make a Mohawk anymore, but he likes it that way. He often has it pulled back in a ponytail at the crown of his scalp. Today it’s down, blowing in the breeze. His eyes are a gorgeous green, pretty enough to make me envious of his eye color. Though mine are more emerald green in color, his are bright, vibrant.
His fists are clenched tight at his sides and his face is red with anger. The only time I see him relax is when he looks toward the house, almost as if he’s waiting for something or someone to show up.
“Loki?” I ask myself as I cock my head, watching Kellen below.
I shake my head; my brother wouldn’t look so tense if he was waiting for Loki to show up.
Loki is Kellen’s best friend and while I know Loki is his club name, I can’t remember his real name. I’ve only really ever known him as Loki except on the rare occasion when my brother would call him by his real name.
Loki and Tryke (Kellen’s club name) have been friends for as long as I can remember. They’re the same age, and if you didn’t know any better, they could be brothers.
Kellen disappears from my line of sight as he ducks into the garage. I sit in my window watching, waiting for him to come back out, but time passes and he never does. After almost an hour I give up and toss myself on to the bed face first.
I scream into my mattress with frustration overload.
Kellen can be such a pain in my ass.
Lying there, my mind wanders back to Loki and all his sexiness and the wicked little way he smiles at me. It never fails to send shivers across my flesh, igniting my deepest desires in my core.
Ever since I can remember, I’ve always staked a claim on him. At one point, I called him my Loki, and he never stopped me. In fact, I think he liked it. He’s always been mine. But he’s always kept me at arm’s length, despite my best efforts to get closer to him. He might not know it, but I think I was three when I fell in love with him and it’s only gotten worse as I’ve gotten older and he’s just gotten sexier with age.
Loki is the only Wicked Angels MC member I’ve seen, besides my brother, since my parents’, passing. It was like Kellen did everything he could to keep the members out of our house and while I hated being alone, it was a welcome relief from the late-night parties that I had to try and sleep through before.
Having Loki around to keep my brother in check was a godsend, both for my brother and for my infatuation with him. I would notice his little sideways glances at me when I’d throw on something skimpy to get his attention. Eventually he returned the infatuation with little sexy smiles and flirty advances. The occasional weak drunken moment confirmed all I needed to know about how he felt about me.
One of those times, not so long ago, he told me that one day, soon, I would be his woman.
I would happily be his woman if Kellen wouldn’t stand in the way of it. Loki is a club member, my brother’s best friend, and he represents everything my brother has tried to keep me away from since our parents died.
Loki is tall, about six-three, maybe six-four, and compared to my tiny five-six, skin and bones frame, he’s massive. With electric blue eyes and dark brown hair that’s long, stretching down to the middle of his back when it’s not braided – which is more often than not.
I smile at the memory of braiding Loki’s hair when he’d come over to chill with Kellen. He’d sit on the floor next to the couch and let me play with it. I chuckle a little, washing away other memories of my brother’s erratic behavior when I was fourteen and braiding pigtails in Loki’s hair.
I
blush when I remember that he kept those pigtails in his hair for two days. A big, bad, cut wearing, scary ass biker with pigtails is a sight to be seen and Loki rocked it like it was a badge of honor. I think I fell in love with him a little more after that. But he never made a move. Sure, when he’d get too drunk, he’d get me pinned against a wall. My head would spin out of control at the scent of bike grease, faint cologne and the hint of body wash whenever he got close like that. It was like my brain would short circuit and I’d be a helpless animal, ready and willing to turn myself over to him if he said the magic words. But he never did. Eventually his mind would clear and he’d back away, leaving me bereft and needy.
Thoughts of Loki keep my mind occupied until I doze off.
I’m not sure what wakes me up sometime later, but the setting February sun is streaming through my window.
I rub my eyes and roll over.
Then scream at the top of my lungs.
“Jesus, Lily, relax.”
“What the hell are you doing in here?” I snap at Kellen who hasn’t moved from where he was standing next to my bed.
“I came up here to wake you up.” He sits down on the side of my bed. He has a composed and somber look on his face. It’s the same face I remember him having when he’d told me about mom and dad and my heart sinks into my stomach.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen to Loki?” I cower away from him, wrapping my arms around my legs, holding them to me. He scowls at me but shakes his head, ignoring my question about Loki.
“I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” I whisper without hesitation.
“No matter what happens, remember that I will always love you. That you’ll always be my baby sister. Can you do that for me?”