BROKEN ROAD (A Back Down Devil MC Romance Novella)

by Casey, London

  “I can think of two places to hide the gun,” Armen said. He grinned and then laughed. His breath stunk of booze already. “You have one minute to get out there.”

  Brooke rushed back to the bathroom and grabbed her bag. She carried it to the front of the room and left it at the door. She took the gun out and considered what to do with it. She had a garter on her leg, something Armen requested. It seemed dumb, but now it had a purpose. Brooke hid the gun on the inside of her right leg, tucked in the garter. Sure, it was uncomfortable, but it worked. It hid the gun the best she could without sticking it somewhere Armen had casually suggested.

  Brooke shivered and left the room.

  She heard voices yelling already. Her instinct was to grab the gun and start shooting.

  “Hold on, hold on,” Armen’s voice called out. “There’s always room. Plenty of room. Come on, gentlemen.”

  Brooke slowly turned the corner that led to the open floor. It was an old warehouse and Brooke had no idea how Armen managed to secure the place and make this illegal thing happen without the police knowing. Those were details Brooke never was allowed to know about. Her brother made it very clear that her best assets were kept tucked in a bra. Everything else was up to him to figure out.

  Trying to keep hidden, Brooke considered reaching for the gun. But then she stopped dead in her tracks. There were a couple tables set up. Men in suits. Men in leather. Men who didn’t seem to match but were all there for the same purpose. Then there was another group. Just three guys. And the guy talking to Armen easily took Brooke’s breath away.

  “Here, let me help you,” Armen said. He looked back and snapped his fingers. “Brooke! Come here!”

  Brooke cleared her throat and stepped forward. All eyes were instantly on her. But it wasn’t all eyes that got to her, it was his eyes that got to her. Tall, thick, scruff on his face, and the dirtiest looking set of brown eyes she’d ever seen on another man, Brooke felt her heart pounding in her chest.

  He wore a black t-shirt under his black leather cut. His arms were massive for the t-shirt. His jeans were a dark blue color and led to a pair of black boots. Brooke didn’t want to make it obvious she was looking this hot guy up and down, but she couldn't help it.

  Armen grabbed her by the hand. “This is Brooke. She’s my sister. She’ll take care of you. Pick a table. Place a bet. Enjoy yourselves here tonight. There’s no need for trouble.”

  The man looked at Brooke. But his eyes didn’t move. They didn’t scan down to her chest pouring from her dress. Or the tightness of the dress that hugged her subtle curves in a way that left Brooke feeling almost naked.

  Color rushed to Brooke’s face as she feared the reaction her body was giving would be picked up. In other words, staring at this giant biker was making her crazy wet between her legs. And the small thong she wore wasn’t going to be able to help with this situation at all.

  “We’re not here to play,” the man said. “We’re here to shut this fucking thing down.” He then looked at Armen. He opened his leather cut and showed his gun. “Now this can be easy… or it can get way out of control. Personally, I don’t give a fuck.”

  Brooke’s heart raced faster.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she had ever been this turned on before. Maybe never in her life. And she couldn’t figure out why. This guy was big and bad.

  But he was so hot. And he was so deadly.

  Brooke looked at her brother and saw the concern on his face.

  All hell is going to break loose… and soon…

  five.

  Ares looked around the room and recognized most of the enemies of Back Down Devil MC. The eyes that dared to look back at him did so without much worry or concern. To put it simply, without a leather cut with a patch on it, Ares presence had no purpose to it. He was a prospect, along with two other guys named Gunner and Bale. They were there under Miller’s order to make everyone nervous and disrupt the illegal gambling so that it wouldn’t happen again.

  In reality, Ares knew what this was. It was a fucking scouting mission. Miller (and Gaige) wanted to find out just who was at the gambling event, what guys from what clubs. They also would want to know how much they were betting, what they were playing, and who was running the damn thing. That’s what made it possible for the event to even occur. Without Back Down Devil MC this would be busted in no time. But Miller kept the chief of police really close to the club.

  This was just how life went.

  Ares stared down a man in a suit who looked nervous and excited. But that wasn’t what made Ares change the course of his night. It was the sight of the man’s sister.

  Brooke.

  She came out of nowhere when the man - Armen - called her name. Her body looked fucking amazing in the tight dark red dress she wore. It was pretty evident that she wasn’t comfortable in the dress and definitely wasn’t used to wearing dresses like that. Her breasts pushed out the top of the dress that left Ares body and mouth with a wild hunger. He took a look from the corner of his eye so when it came time to look right at Brooke, he did so and kept his eyes locked to hers.

  He wanted to figure her out.

  She didn’t seem menacing or the kind to take part in this kind of bullshit stuff. But sometimes being beautiful and silent was a weapon more lethal than bullets and knives.

  The longer Ares stared the more he learned.

  Brooke had nothing to do with all this. She wanted nothing to do with it either. Armen was forcing her. She was jumpy and nervous, her face burning eight shades of red.

  “I assure you there is room for everyone,” Armen said. “No need to have things get out of hand here. We all have money to bet. We all can join…”

  Ares stepped toward Armen. The little man backed up. He bumped into an empty chair and then turned around and jumped. He started to scurry away and called for Brooke. She tried to move and Ares acted before thinking. His hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” he growled at her.

  “Who are you?”

  “Ares. You realize what you’re in the middle of?”

  “Maybe I do,” Brooke said. “Let me go.”

  “You’ll end up dead if you keep playing this game.”

  “Then tip me well enough so I don’t have to anymore.”

  “Come on, bro,” Gunner said. “Don’t worry about her. There’s half a dozen of them. High paid relievers.”

  Ares turned his head and snarled his lip. Relievers. They were the women who hung around the clubhouse and took care of the guys. They started with those at the table. Then they settled for those with patches on their leather cuts. If nothing was available, then the prospects got a little action.

  If Brooke were in Back Down Devil clubhouse, she’d get scooped up in a second. But they weren’t in the clubhouse. They weren’t anywhere near it right now.

  “Serve your fucking drinks and watch your ass,” Ares warned.

  “Better yet, you watch my ass,” Brooke said.

  Ares did just that as Brooke walked away. The way her hips and ass moved left to right, again and again, it was almost hypnotizing. She was taunting him with that wicked body.

  “What’s the plan here?” Bale asked. “I feel like I’m sticking out like a sore thumb.”

  “That’s the plan,” Ares said.

  He stepped forward. Gunner and Bale followed.

  As Ares scanned the tables, the eyes were at him again. He folded his arms, letting his muscles flex.

  “Back Down Devil is here,” Ares said.

  “Doesn’t look that way,” someone said. It was a massively built guy from the Coast Road MC crew. “Nice cuts. Think you’re missing a patch or two.”

  “Just know who we are,” Ares said.

  He had to let the comments roll off his shoulders.

  They kept walking and only stopped when Ares saw four men sitting next to each other that all had Eight Under MC on the back of their leather cuts. The second Ares sa
w the men, they turned and looked at him.

  If tensions weren’t already high, they slowly started to boil over.

  Two of the men threw their chairs back and stood up.

  “That pair of aces is going to bite you in the ass,” Ares said to another one of the Eight Under.

  “Motherfucker,” the man yelled. He tossed his cards to the table and stood up, drawing his weapon.

  “Holy fucking hell,” Armen yelled.

  Ares looked at beautiful Brooke standing with a tray of drinks in her hand. She stopped and her face looked petrified.

  “No need for this now,” Ares said. “I’d hate to ruin your night.”

  “You fucking people think you’re tough,” the Eight Under man said. “You just roll through town like you own it.”

  “Maybe we do,” Bale said.

  “Cut the shit,” Gunner said. “Nobody is here to start shit. We’re here to make sure you all know Back Down Devil is watching.” Gunner then looked at Armen. “We’re on to you too, man. This is bullshit. This is illegal. We’ll need something good from this.”

  “Gentlemen,” Armen said. “I think we’re all here for a little time to relax. To feel safe. To ease up on life a little.”

  “This piece of shit killed two of ours,” the Eight Under man said.

  “They were prospects,” Ares said. “Real dumb fucks too.”

  The gun came closer to Ares. His eyes switched between the man holding the gun and Brooke.

  Stop fucking looking at her. She could be the goddamn enemy for all you know.

  “If there is trouble,” Armen said, “perhaps we can take it outside.” Armen reached back for a drink off Brooke’s tray. He slowly walked forward. “It’s going to be good here. The bets are on the table. The cards are dealt. Smoke in the air. Beautiful women all around. No need for club fights to come forward.”

  “No fight,” Ares said. “I fucked one of the prospect’s girlfriends.” Ares smiled. “And she was fucking terrible, too. Worst pussy I ever had. No wonder she’s with Eight Under. Rot goes to rot…”

  Armen came forward and stepped between Ares and the man from Eight Under.

  “I’m going to kill him,” the man from Eight Under said.

  “Nobody is going to do that,” Armen said. “Gentlemen, I tried to be kind to you. I allowed you in…”

  “We kicked down the door,” Ares said.

  “Fair enough,” Armen said. “But my hospitality has come to an end. This night isn’t meant for warfare.”

  Ares looked down at Armen. “Just what is this night for then? Why the fuck are you in Frelen? Why the fuck is this happening in some abandoned warehouse? Why the fuck are you messing with Back Down Devil?”

  “We’re all here for a good time,” Armen said. “If anyone in your association feels otherwise, why aren’t they here?”

  Ares smiled. “You’re not worth the time. It’s much easier to just handle this like we are.”

  “I’m sorry to say, but you’re time is up here. I’m going to have to ask security to remove you.”

  “Where’s your security?” Ares asked looking around the warehouse. “Hiding in the rafters?”

  “They’re in the back. Closely monitoring conversation. I don’t want them walking around making everyone uncomfortable. But they’re there.”

  “Bring them out,” Ares said.

  “Let them drag us out,” Gunner said.

  “One phone call and this is all over,” Bale added.

  Ares gritted his teeth. He hated when the other prospects chimed in like that. He was better off acting and working alone.

  Yet his eyes looked toward Brooke again. She remained standing there, tray in hand. She didn’t belong with the other women in the warehouse. She didn’t seem to be in sync with Armen either. Something about her was calling to Ares.

  Slowly, Ares started to work his way between the tables. Two of the tables continued their poker games. Men in suits didn’t give a shit about motorcycle club bullshit. The Coast Road guys were keeping close eyes on the room but hadn’t made a move. The only tension was between the prospects of Back Down Devil MC and Eight Under MC.

  When Armen approached Brooke, Ares felt his heart pull a little. He feared Armen was going to say something to Brooke and she would then unleash her true self. Instead, Brooke looked even more worried than before.

  Then, just as Ares knew it was about to happen, all hell broke lose.

  Armen smacked the drink tray from Brooke’s hand. He pushed her and then spun around, a gun now in his hand.

  “Motherfucker,” Ares growled and stepped forward.

  Armen’s gun went off.

  six.

  Brooke fell back and the corner of the wall hit her in the back. Pain shot up to the back of her head and down to her feet. She then lost feeling for a second and went down to her ass. Struggling to keep her dress down was impossible and Brooke sat there damn near exposing herself to everyone in the warehouse.

  But everyone wasn’t looking at Brooke.

  Not once a gun went off.

  They’re going to kill you, Brooke. They’re the ones… they did it all…

  That’s what Armen had whispered to Brooke before hitting the drink tray from her hand.

  Now on the ground, Brooke had some protection from the flying bullets.

  Poker tables were quickly flipped up on their sides to be used as shields. There was no security hired for this, that was all bullshit. But suddenly there were men rushing into the warehouse. They quickly grabbed at the men in suits and started to get them out of there safely.

  “Brooke,” Armen cried out. “You have to fight back. You have to shoot. We have to get out of here.”

  Brooke looked and saw Armen on the ground, crawling like an infant would, scrambling to grab as much cash as he could get. He stuffed the money into the inside of his suit jacket and went from table to table, keeping himself protected.

  “Armen… what’s happening?” Brooke asked.

  “Just get up and move. Quickly.”

  Armen moved up to his knees and put his gun over the table. He started to shoot. Brooke touched her leg and felt the gun. She reached up her dress and grabbed the weapon. She then pressed against the back of the wall and slowly brought herself to her feet. There were men running toward the front of the warehouse, making their escape. There were a few men on the ground. They were bleeding. Maybe dead.

  Brooke started to shake. She had never seen this before at one of Armen’s game nights. There had been fights before. Guns had been drawn. There had been times when Armen set it up for alarms to go off and he and Brooke made their wild escape with money. But nothing like this. Not motorcycle clubs shooting at each other. Not bodies on the ground. Not Armen looking terrified.

  And certainly not Brooke holding a weapon, ready defend herself.

  Brooke turned with the intention of running to the back of the warehouse and hiding. She could grab her bag, get changed, hide, and just wait for all of this to blow over.

  Brooke didn’t make it one step before she crashed into someone.

  Someone big. Thick with muscle. Someone hovering over her with a deadly power.

  “You… you…”

  “Ares,” his voice growled. “That’s my fucking name. And if you’re going to pull the trigger on that gun, make it count.”

  Brooke looked down and saw that she had her gun right against Ares’s body.

  “Do it!” Armen yelled. “Kill him!”

  Brooke looked back up to Ares. “I won’t…”

  A gunshot rang out and Ares jumped back, his hand quickly moving to the small of Brooke’s back and pulling her with him. They turned and Ares had Brooke pinned against a wall.

  “Fuck,” Ares said. “We have to get out of here. You’re going to get killed.”

  “I can’t go. My stuff…”

  Ares pressed his body to Brooke. “One of my brothers is out there dead. Because of your brother. You want to go back out there?” A
res backed up. “Go. Get fucking shot.”

  Ares turned and Brooke jumped at him. She couldn’t believe her hands were around the sexy biker. They froze and Ares looked back at Brooke.

  Brooke gave Ares her gun and said, “I need to get my bag. Please.”

  Brooke went to the back room and found her bag waiting at the door. She grabbed it and Ares hurried to tear it from her hand. He tossed it over his massive shoulder and then grabbed Brooke by the hand.

  They moved fast and Brooke couldn’t help but feel her breasts bouncing like crazy as they ran. The dress seemed to hug her body tighter by the second. And, just like before, seeing Ares - and now having him touch even just her hand - had her body going wild and her thong wildly wet.

  Ares led the way out of the building and pulled harder. Brooke almost fell and reached for Ares to keep herself from going down.

  “What the hell?” Ares bellowed.

  “I can’t keep up.”

  Ares stopped and turned. He put his hands to Brooke’s waist. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Inside the warehouse more gunshots rang out. The backdoor opened with a rusty squeak. Ares threw Brooke behind him and lifted his gun.

  “Easy. Just me.”

  Brooke watched one of the guys from Back Down Devil approach.

  “Fuck, Bale,” Ares said. “Gunner is down.”

  “He’s dead,” Bale said. “We have to get him.”

  “No. We can’t. You know the rules. He’s a prospect. That’s it. We report it and they make the call.”

  “Fuck,” Bale said. “Gunner was my…”

  “We have to go,” Ares said.

  “We… what the fuck is this? You bringing presents to the clubhouse?”

  “No. Her fucking brother is the one who started this shit. She’s ours until we get the truth.” Ares looked back at Brooke. “And if we don’t, she’s not going to make it to the next illegal poker game.”

  Ares turned and lifted Brooke off her feet. For a moment, Brooke wanted to scream. But she couldn’t find the breath to do so. Her mind and heart battled each other between what Ares had said and the way he was touching her. The feel of his hands on the back of her legs. His hands were way too far up her legs, but that was the dress’s fault. His hand at her upper back and shoulders. Walking fast, his strength so eminent.