Broken: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel

by Natasha Thomas

“Yeah, you and me both.” I thought I could put her above the club. I thought that I could make her my first priority. That she mattered more to me than my brothers. I love her more than my own life, but theirs? There’s no way for me to answer that without me sounding like even more of an asshole than I’m already being.

  “So you’re telling me Lexi gave up part of her family for you. That she’s been the ridicule of those bitches that hand around the MC. That she’s put up with your fucking temper for three weeks now, and you still can’t put her ahead of them. Are you fucking delusional?” Laughing roughly he says, “You fucking must be because that my friend, that is insane.”

  Pushing up off the bed I stand, and reach into my chest of drawers grabbing out the first shirt I put my hands on. I vaguely notice that Lex has washed and ironed them all. They’re all in neat folded piles stacked perfectly. I yank my shirt over my head and start threading my belt through the loops on my jeans.

  “Then call me insane, because that’s exactly what I’m saying. You know where we came from, and you know what kind of mess I was in when Priest found me. I can’t turn my back on that Rob, I won’t. If that means I lose Lex then so be it, but I can’t reconcile me without the club and all that means to me.” Sighing I say exasperatedly, “I don’t want her to know I can’t love her the way I thought I could, I don’t want to hurt her like that. But I don’t want to keep pretending like I have been. I don’t want to look her and think that this is all her fault. That if it wasn’t for her I’d be better off.”

  Hearing a gasp from the now open doorway, I turn around and see Lex standing there with tears streaming down her beautiful face, and both hands curled protectively around her small baby belly. She looks as beautiful as the first day I realized I was in love with her, and I don’t think, no matter how much time goes by that I’ll ever see her as anything less than perfect. Perfectly unobtainable. Because I might have had her for a little while, but I don’t think I could ever have truly kept her. I don’t think we were ever really meant to be.

  Rob turns too, and at seeing Lex standing there his face goes ashen. Under his breath he mutters

  “Oh, shit.”

  Oh shit indeed. I never wanted Lex to hear all that, and I can only assume by the look on her face she did hear all of it. Taking one step backwards then another, Lex opens her mouth as if she’s going to say something, but her mouth closes on a snap and she shakes her head to herself.

  I advance a step and reach out my hand to her. She doesn’t go to take it, instead she wraps her arms around her belly fully and takes another defensive step back. Shit, I didn’t want her to find out like this. If I’m being totally honest, I’m a fucking coward and probably would never have told her how I feel. I would’ve waited for her to have enough of my shit and leave me before I told her the truth.

  Trying again I advance, but she retreats. It’s like a dance, one that’s not sensual or sweet. Instead it’s one that’s sad and slow. One that won’t have a happy ending.

  “Come here Princess, let me talk to you a minute.” She shakes her head in the negative and steps back again. “We have to talk, Lex. Just come here for a few minutes and let me talk to you.” I mightn’t have wanted to talk about it with her before, but now she’s heard me I have to try and explain.

  “I think I’ve heard more than enough, thanks though,” she snaps. Facing Rob she asks, “Can you please collect whatever things of mine I may have left here and put them in a box for me? Just have him drop it at the club, and I’ll pick it up next time I’m there.” Taking a tentative step toward him, he’s far closer to the door than I am, and then another, Lex wraps her arms around him, give him a quick squeeze and then lets’ go. “It was lovely to meet you finally. I’ve heard so much about you, so it’s nice to put a face to the name.” Not letting me talk she goes on, looking directly at me this time. “Anything you have at my apartment I’ll have boxed and delivered to your room at the clubhouse. I’ll keep you informed about my doctors’ visits and the like, but I’d appreciate it if you would stay the fuck away from me from here on out.”

  “Princess, don’t” I plead.

  “Shut your mouth Thomas, and don’t call me that. You don’t have the right to call me that anymore.” Wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand she says, “You’re right about one thing; no I wouldn’t take your child from you. I couldn’t do that to you, or to him or her. But that said, that doesn’t mean I have to have anything to do with you. From now on you were a sperm donor in my eyes. You may be a father in six months, but until then you’re just someone that I shared bodily fluids with. You have no say in what happens in my life, and I’ll stay out of your business too. If you see me, avoid me, you’re good at that. And don’t even think about involving anyone else in this. You made it clear where your priorities lie, and I won’t have you dragging anyone else into a fight you created.”

  Spinning on her heal, Lex walks down the hall. I hear muffled sound of her getting her keys from her purse, and then the door opens and slams behind her with a finality I feel all the way to my bones.

  “Well, you fucked that up good, Glock. Well done brother, I couldn’t have ended the best thing that ever happened to me quicker, and more painfully if I tried harder myself.” I couldn’t agree more.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Tobias

  “Every family has that one crazy person in it.

  If you’re missing one, I seem to have some extras!”

  - Rotten eCard

  “Church, fifteen minutes assholes,” Priest bellows from the cavernous hallway leading to the offices. We’re supposed to be voting on Liam’s patch today, and while I don’t have any objection to raise I hope they aren’t rushing this through because of who he is, and what he can bring to the club by voting him in. That shit would be a mistake. I’m a firm believer in earning your place in the club. Just because your skills could prove invaluable one day doesn’t mean the rest of your shortcomings, if you’ve got any, should be overlooked. And the truth is, after only just over twelve months prospecting, I don’t know what those are because he hasn’t been here long enough.

  Liam might be twenty-three but he’s a young twenty-three. More like an old nineteen if you ask me. I suppose coming from a family that can pave your way in gold if they wanted to will do that to a man. It’ll make him slower to grow up. Take him longer to mature into the man he was born to be. Not that I’d know much about that, but I do know it take a strong man to stomach half the shit we have to do on a daily basis, and I don’t know if Liam’s up to the task yet. He needs more time, more testing to see if he’s got what it takes. But like I said, I won’t object if today’s his lucky day.

  Most of us around here didn’t have that luxury, unless you’re Cage or Steel. They got the best chance growing up out of the lot of us. With dads as patched in brothers, and a mother figure like Brenna they had role models to look up to, people they could trust. In essence, they were luck bastards having doors opened freely for them and opportunities the rest of us only dreamed of. None of us would have turned down a seat at their family table that’s for sure, or the chance at having a real family, but what’s the old saying? When one door closes another one opens? That holds true for every one of us that lost something, having gained the club instead. We might not have had it when we were young, but we’ve got it in spades now. Not a bad replacement if you ask me.

  Stacey one of the club whores climbs on to my lap where I’m sitting at the bar and starts purring in my ear.

  “You’ve got fifteen minutes before you have to be in church, I can take care of that for you first if you want,” she says squeezing my semi-hard cock firmly. It’s not reacting to her, it’s reacting to the sight of my woman’s tight, wet body in the shower this morning, and those images playing on a loop in my head even hours later.

  I shouldn’t say this, but I wish I had time to take her up on her offer though. A blow job from a woman who can deep throat all the way do
wn to the base of my shaft sounds fucking phenomenal. I mean, it’s not going to happen, but it sounds great all the same.

  “Sorry Stacey,” I say moving her off my lap. “Not gonna happen sweetheart, but go give Shifty some love would you. He’s been sitting there looking like he could do with your kind of cheering up all afternoon.”

  Club whores served their purpose at times. At other times they were more trouble than they were worth. But what they did come in handy for was cleaning up, setting up for parties, and making sure the men had whatever sort of company they were looking for. They weren’t bashful women. They were open with their sexuality, they owned it, and they weren’t afraid to use it to take their own pleasure either. Something the guys looked for when deciding whether or not to take another girl on and bring her into the fold.

  Don’t get the wrong idea about us using them and giving nothing in return though. We give plenty. A few of the girls that have passed through over the years went to cosmetology school, which Devil’s Spawn picked up the tab for. One of our current girls is taking college classes, we’re funding that too. We take care of them, make sure they’re protected. They get rooms at the club, fed, all the booze they can drink, and men to show them a good time. It’s not a bad trade off when you take into account these girls fucking love sex to begin with. Take away everything else, and they’d still be here willingly opening their legs for which ever brother asked them to. I don’t judge them for why they do what they do, it’s not my place to, but I can’t say I’d be happy if my little girl was willing doing trains with bikers every other Friday. But hey, like I said, I don’t judge.

  When I joined the club going on fourteen years ago, it was all about the cheap, easy pussy. I didn’t want lasting connections with women. I wanted to ride free, live hard, and fuck harder. I did for a while too, until I fell for the one woman that put me on permanent hiatus from living the carefree life I’d become far to use to.

  I’m not saying I let her tie me down with strings I didn’t want, nothing could be further from the truth. I wanted all of her strings and then some. I still do. I won’t pretend I don’t miss the lifestyle I led before sometimes when shit gets hard. I won’t lie to myself. And I won’t try to convince myself I hadn’t had good times, made memories I relive occasionally when shit gets complicated at home, because I do that too. It’s normal, acceptable even, for a men like us to wonder whether the grass is greener and all that shit. We know intimately how fleeting life can be, so why waste it having regrets.

  That’s the one thing I’m not certain of though. I don’t know if they’re regrets I’ve got, or just unresolved pipe dreams I should let go of. Things I should’ve done before I settled down.

  I’ve got everything I ever dreamt of, and now I’m questioning whether I really wanted it to begin with. Shitty, I know. I don’t fucking like myself most days for thinking it either. But in saying that, that uncertainty I was feeling is probably what led me to making to biggest mistake of my life. It’s not an excuse, nothing could excuse what I did, but it explains a fuck of a lot.

  I wish I could go back and change it, the choice I made, because it was most definitely a choice. No one held a gun to my head, and if they did I probably would’ve said ‘fuck you’ just to spite them. But that’s the thing about refusing to live with regrets. I might want to go back in time and make a better decision, one that wouldn’t affect the people I love to the bottom of my soul, but I can’t. I’ve got to choose to move on and leave the past where it belongs, in the past. Or I’ve got to make it right somehow. Remove the weight from my chest that’s threatening to obliterate me before it’s too late. Somehow I get the feeling it already is though, too late I mean.

  Smirking at me, Shifty nods his thanks for sending Stacey his way, and I make my way to Church. Early, but better that than late I reckon. The last thing I need when Davies is stepping down as First Rider, is Priest thinking I’m not one hundred percent committed. I want that patch like I want my next breath. I want it so bad I can taste it. And with my name only one of two in the ring along with Dagger’s, I’m not doing shit to jeopardize my shot at it.

  Dagger might be my brother, but even I can admit he’s a fuck up the majority of the time. He’s a solid guy, a good shot, and he’s quick to throw his hat in the ring if a brother needs back up, but Jesus, the man is dense as two planks of wood after a heavy rain. Unless instructions are specific, precise and there’s no way he can interpret them using his own fucked up logic, you’re golden. But don’t for a second think the man has had an original thought since he decided to stroke his own dick, because he hasn’t. Hence the reason I think I’ve got this shit in the bag. But in the end, only time will tell I suppose.

  Sitting in my regular chair, five seats down from the head of the table I’m the only man in the room until Glock makes his way into his seat beside me. Giving him a once over I say,

  “You look like shit, brother.”

  It’s not any wonder he looks the way he does. Drinking himself blind for weeks on end will do that to a man. Ever since my brother lost his woman he’s been more broken than I’ve ever seen him before, and I met him not long after Priest hauled his ass from Vic and Sheila’s to the clubhouse. I wish I could tell him something to ease his burden, but I’m pretty sure nothing other than Lex herself can do that. And that shit isn’t my job anyway. He’s my brother and best friend, but his colossal joke of a love life is way out of my comfort zone, so I opt to keep my mouth shut.

  They aren’t talking, Lex and Glock. Neither one of them are making an effort to reach out to the other. I’m not surprised with how it ended, but what I am surprised about is that Glock’s still breathing. I thought Cage, Priest, or Pipe would have been more than happy to put the man out of his self-imposed misery by now if he asked them to. The fact Cage hasn’t taken him into ‘The Cage’ and beaten the holy hell out of him is another strange phenomenon. One I’m not altogether comfortable with.

  By now, if a man crossed Cage he would’ve challenged him, kicked his ass and sent him packing. I’d like to say my brother hasn’t done that here because he’s grown up, but that’d be bullshit. The only reason the brothers are giving Glock a wide berth is they can see he’s beating himself up enough without the need for intervention from any one of them. Strange how women have the ability to punish us even when we’re not even with them anymore.

  Church goes as expected. Liam’s patch was decided, and the room was shut down, Dagger and I being evicted, so that they could vote on the First Rider patch. When they all came out, twenty excruciatingly long minutes later, Davies was the first one to approach us.

  “Decision will get handed down to you boys next week. Hold tight, yeah?” He says eyeing us both.

  With head nods and back slaps, he makes his way over to his usual seat at the bar. I swear that thing has his permanent ass groove in it after years of steady patronage. Shaking my head in disgust I turn to Dagger stretching my hand out for him to shake.

  “Good luck, brother. Not long now.”

  Grunting he replies,

  “They better fuckin pick you. I don’t know what they were thinking putting my name up. I’d be lucky to find the Colorado border without getting lost.” He’s not wrong.

  Tipping my chin to him, I make it round the first corner before my cell starts ringing. It’s my personal cell, not my burner, so that can only mean it’s one person seeing as all my brothers are here, and they’re the only other people that’d bother to call me.

  “Yeah?” I say gruffly into the mouthpiece.

  “Hey honey. Can you grab a few thing for me on your way home later? You are coming home later aren’t you?” She asks breathily.

  Fuck I hate doing this to her. Every time I think I’ll be able to keep a promise to her something comes up. She make light of it, brushes it off most times, but I can tell it’s taking a toll on her.

  “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll make it up to you, yeah? Liam got his patch, so it’s gonna be a late one,
might even just stay here tonight. That okay with you?”

  Sighing she pauses long enough for me to think she’s hung up before saying,

  “Of course. Tell him I said congrats, and don’t forget tomorrow afternoon’s important, Tobi. I need you to make sure you’re home by two, okay?” Tomorrow afternoon? Wracking my brain to try and remember what’s so important, I hear another, this time more exaggerated sigh come from my woman. “Dr. Appointment. Ringing any bells?”

  Shit that’s right. She’s had this doctors’ appointment set up for a while now. I don’t make it to many, but if I remember rightly, this one’s more important than most. Rubbing the back of my neck I reply,

  “Yeah babe, I’ll be there, I promise.”

  After everything I’ve told you, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to find out I didn’t make the appointment. I didn’t make the next one, or the one after that either. In fact, I didn’t make it home for three days after Liam’s patch party, but that’s a story for another time…

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Alexis

  “Relationships are a lot like Algebra.

  Have you ever looked at your X and wondered Y?”

  - Rotten eCards

  Pregnancy Week Fifteen…

  Whoever said morning sickness ever just that; in the morning, or that it ends after your first trimester was a lying sack of shit. I still puke my stomach lining out all day every day, and two weeks into my second trimester it is showing no signs of slowing down.