Shady: Ops Warriors MC

by Harley McRide

  Shady

  Number III of Ops Warriors MC

  Harley McRide

  JK Publishing, Inc. (2014)

  * * *

  Tags: Contemporary, Erotic, MCs & Bikers, Menage, New Age, Romance

  Contemporaryttt Eroticttt MCs & Bikersttt Menagettt New Agettt Romancettt

  Warning: For Mature Adult Audiences. Contains language and actions some may deem offensive. Sexually explicit content. Ménage – MFM.

  In book three of the Ops Warriors MC: Shady is tough as nails and has always held her past close to her chest—until now—when it's comes back, hell bent on destroying her. She fears as her dark secrets unfold, she will lose the club, the only place she has ever considered home.

  Slider made a mistake and has paid for it ever since. He comes to the Warriors to right his wrong and will do everything in his power to get back the one thing he thought he could live without. This time he doesn't plan to lose, going as far as bringing in reinforcements—his best friend, Cajun.

  Ryan ‘Cajun’ Dubois doesn’t trust himself in a relationship; he's too damaged. But when he comes in contact with a woman who calms the beast inside him—he finds himself willing to fight for what could be his only chance at happiness.

  Shutting down the Diablos becomes the Ops Warriors main focus as secrets start to unfold, causing tension and tempers to flare. At what length will the club go to help one of their own? Will Slider, Cajun, and Shady find solace together or will the demons in their pasts win, keeping them trapped in their own nightmares?

  Shady

  Ops Warriors MC

  Book Three

  by Harley McRide

  © Copyright December 2014 JK Publishing, Inc.

  ISBN#

  All cover art and logo © Copyright December 2014 by JK Publishing, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Artwork by Jess Buffett

  Published by JK Publishing, Inc.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales are entirely coincidental.

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  Dedication

  WIND IN THE FACE STYLE — GRACE STEEL, CHROME, LEATHER HANGING TOGETHER THE SOUND — LIKE A SMILE FROM WITHIN — I GRIN SUNSHINE OR SHOWERS I WON'T TRADE THOSE HOURS RIDING — JUST FEELING FREE IT'S IMPORTANT, I DO THIS FOR ME. MOUNTAIN, DESERT, CITY OR PLAIN RIDES ALL THE SAME I'M RIDIN — I'M HIGH I'M STILL GETTING BY FUCK IT — I'LL RIDE TIL I DIE!

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Books by Harley McRide

  Excerpt from Home for the Holidays: A Hoorah Christmas

  Excerpt from Music Under the Mistletoe

  JK Publishing, Inc.

  Prologue

  “No, goddammit, I do not need anything,” Shady yelled at her door.

  “But,” Harmony yelled back.

  “No,” Shady replied firmly.

  Her friends thought she was going to break and she wasn’t. After the last few weeks of healing, trying to figure out what was going on, and dodging the Bobbsey twins, she was sick of it. They were stressing her out and now, she had been told Slider and that guy, Cajun, were on their way back. FUCK! Shady wasn’t even going to list the reasons why this sucked so bad, she didn’t have enough fucking paper.

  With everything that has happened, Creed called in for reinforcements. The Nomads were the first to be called in. They belonged to the club but with no specific chapter. Normally, Shady loved the Nomads, they were not high maintenance and clingy like some men. She hated clingy, demanding, or bossy. Hell, she hated men thinking they knew what she needed—they didn’t, and they never would. Only Shady knew what she needed and that was to be fucking left alone, and maybe a few orgasms.

  She missed orgasms.

  Sighing, she turned back to her computer, she was on a mission for information. She heard a few things that made her curious. Cajun apparently had some explaining to do, which the guys hadn't gotten to even, though he had been here twice since the shooting, even if they were only for a few hours and then he and Slider disappeared again. Shady only heard rumors, of course that only peaked her interest since she was attracted to the man. There was something about him. The scar on his face made him even more dangerous and handsome. Between the two men, they were driving her crazy. She was attracted to both and, in a normal world, she would approach them, fuck them, and ignore them. However, they were not your normal men.

  “I made you some breakfast,” Free called out and Shady rolled her eyes. Here was another tactic they had been using to make her lose her mind
, trying to ‘mommy’ her.

  “No, I am good,” Shady yelled.

  If they knew what she was doing, they would try to set her up. Damn they were such girls. Not finding what the fuck she wanted, Shady changed her search, she needed to get back to the task at hand, it was important to find all the key players of this clusterfuck so she could be prepared. Damn, she seriously hadn’t thought after so long that they were still looking for her. It didn’t make sense, but her family was crazy.

  She changed searches and tried to look on the web for her stepfather. Ever since seeing her stepbrother, Shady knew he wasn't the one behind all of this, he couldn’t be, for one, he was under his father's thumb because the old man had all the money. For another, it was too organized, she had seen her stepbrother in action, and he wasn’t smart enough to hide all this shit. She knew Dominic Reyes II, her stepfather, was involved in this shit, but since she had left home, he and her mother had disappeared. She discovered this when she searched for her mother a few years ago, not that she wanted some heart-warming reunion, hell no, her mother was weak, but she was searching to see if her mother was still alive. It may sound cruel and unfeeling, but Shady didn’t care. Not like a few years ago, she planned to kill them herself. Nada, there was nothing online about her mother at the normal charity events she attended. The only mention of Angela Reyes was at an event four years ago, and then it was as if the woman dropped off the face of the earth. She knew they moved because she attempted to send flowers anonymously, then was notified she no longer lived at the address given. A new family had moved into her old house, the house that held all her painful memories.

  When she dug deeper, she found the sale of the house only a year after she ran away, but didn’t find any records of another purchase. She hadn’t cared at the time, she just laughed and moved on, figuring her stepfather had killed her mother because Shady ran away. Asswipe always blamed her when Shady acted out. Of course her mother blamed her every single time, but who cared now. Shady kicked herself for not keeping closer tabs on them. At least to find out if they were alive.

  “Shay, come on, you can’t stay in there forever, it's been two days,” Harmony said firmly.

  Shady looked up in surprise, it had been two days? Hmmm, she would have argued that it was just last night that she had jerked up in bed, woken once again from a nightmare. The same one she always woke up from, except it wasn’t a nightmare—it was her reality. And Harmony had helped her get through the first one. Then when it resurfaced again, she'd gotten up and started her search. Well, guess her ass had been searching for information longer than what she thought.

  The only thing she could think of after being woke up yet again with her fucked up past was at least she hadn't been in the clubhouse; she had been in her new room in Creed and Fork’s house. Thank God for small favors. She was in no way ready to explain things, they already knew too much, and she didn’t feel like having a therapy session—again.

  Nope, she was going to stay in here as long as she fuckin' wanted, because if she went out there, they would continue to drive her crazy. She would rather hide than to have to kill one of her closest friends. And she was so there at the killing thing too, she didn’t want to have to explain to the authorities that she killed them for being overly nice.

  “No,” Shady yelled and turned back to her computer. She heard whispering and then suddenly her bedroom door burst open. Harmony stood in the doorway with a sledgehammer, grinning, while Freedom at least had the decency to look ashamed. “Bitch,” Shady yelled, stood, and stormed over to the door, looking down at the hole now there. “You are fixing that shit.”

  “Yeah, yeah, and I am a bitch, deal with it,” Harmony said, rolling her eyes. “But I am a worried bitch. Damn it, you can’t stay locked up in here forever.”

  Shady growled and leaned back against the wall, blocking them from fully coming into the room. “I am not, I just need to sort some shit out. I don’t need everyone fucking watching me.”

  Harmony raised her eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

  Shady rolled her eyes, turned and pointed to the huge bandage that was still on her upper chest above her breast and setting below her right shoulder.

  “This is not attractive,” Shady growled. “Every single time I walk through the fucking clubhouse, the guys wince and the bitches jump up to fucking get me something. It is driving me bat shit crazy. No one is acting fucking normal.”

  “Normal?” Freedom laughed. “Shay, remember when I came home from the hospital?”

  Shady groaned and nodded. She did know what her friend was talking about, because Freedom had almost been killed by the Diablos and when she was convalescing, everyone hovered over her. She knew in her head they meant well, but it didn’t matter, she wasn’t fucking used to people wanting to take care of her, she was the one who took care of people.

  “Yeah, well…I don’t need people staring at me like I am helpless,” Shady grumbled.

  “I know two guys that don’t stare at you, well, maybe stare, but it is more like you are their next meal,” Harmony snorted.

  “Fuck off,” Shady said.

  “What, you know I am right. Just fucking admit it.” Freedom smiled.

  Shady walked away and sat down again, ignoring her friends as they chattered on about Slider and Cajun. Maybe if she ignored them they would go away. After about ten minutes she heard Freedom squeal, and yes, squeal like a fuckin' girl.

  “Oh! Look who is back,” Free said, looking out the window, causing Shady to frown, and the sounds from outside reached her ears—bikes.

  “Bow chicka wow wow,” Harmony said when she joined Free and they both watched out the window. “They are fucking fine.”

  “Kill me now,” Shady groaned and put her head on the desk. “Female bonding sucks.”

  Chapter One

  Shady didn't know how long she sat there after Free and Harmony finished being big pains in her ass but she needed to clear her head, and only one way would do it for her. She needed to ride, it was the only thing that would help.

  No matter what anyone said, her job was not something that defined her. She was a stripper and proud of it, but it was only something she did because she liked it. Yes, it sounded weird, and therapists could completely have a hay day trying to figure out her thinking, but she didn’t give a fuck. When she was on the stage, it was not about men seeing her body and jerking off in their heads about her. No, it was about control, she showed what she wanted—when she wanted. No one touched her unless she gave permission, which she rarely did, and no one—and I mean no one—told her what to do. The guys watched out for her because they cared, she got that, but they didn’t tell her what to do. She loved music, loved being around it day in and day out, each day being different. Sometimes she felt country, sometimes she felt rock and roll, but she always felt the beat.

  Shady wasn’t ashamed to tell people what she did, who gave a fuck. Women who glared at her or looked down on her would do the exact same thing even if they didn’t know she was a stripper, so fuck them. She probably made more money than their old men in a week. Of course, she was also part owner of the mine but who cared, that money all went to her passion. Biking. It was all she needed when she was feeling trapped, like right now.

  She stood and went to her closet. Her leather jacket and chaps were waiting. With a slight smile, she pulled out her jeans and a thermal shirt; it would be chilly but she loved it, the breeze nipping at you as you fly down the road was an experience not easily explained. It had to be lived. She tied her long black hair into her hair glove and then put on her leathers along with her riding boots. When she was done, she grabbed the keys to her Harley Davidson and walked quickly out the door.

  There she was, Beauty, that was her name and she was the reason Shady got up most mornings, because she belonged to her—the 2013 Harley Davidson Custom Sportster. The tank looked like swirling smoke surrounded by the Ops Warriors insignia and she'd recently added the Lady Warriors insig
nia as well; black, blues, and greens burst on the top of her tank, reminding her what it meant. To her it meant family, because they were the only ones she claimed. They had saved her when she was at her lowest, and for that, she would always be loyal to them.

  Her seat was perfect for her, she slid her leg over the bike, and sighed, Beauty was her solace, her calm in any storm. When she rode, nothing mattered, not even the shit that was her life. She reached up and gripped her handlebars, they were cushioned with the same blue and green colors that were on the tank, but at the end there were spikes, the guys teased her that they looked like a painful dildo, she had them installed in case one of them pissed her off. She flicked on the power and her LED blue and green lights lit up around her. With a grin and a flick of her wrist, she felt the engine roar to life under her. Shady closed her eyes and just allowed Beauty to comfort her with her vibrations. She revved the engine a few times before she opened her eyes and slowly pushed off. Nothing felt better.

  The wind caught her with a frigid blast and she didn’t feel a thing after the first initial shock. How could she, Beauty was taking her away to another place, a place she was at peace, somewhere no one could touch her.

  Shady pulled out onto the open highway, it was laid right in front of the three—mile driveway that led to the Ops club. She'd went through the gates a mile back. The Prospect on duty waved and opened the gate when they saw her coming. Thank fuck, 'cause she was not in the mood to have to speak with anyone.