Captive: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel

by Natasha Thomas

  The news of her addiction made its way back to me through a few channels, fucking bikers. My brothers’ gossip more than a bunch of old women. I confronted Carly with it one of the rare times she blew into town, not a happy visit, and not a conversation I wanted to have, but I needed to know. Call it closure, call it confirmation that she truly is the cunt I know her to be, I don’t care, but it was high time she confess her sins. She didn’t deny it, and she didn’t elaborate which meant it was going to be the last time I let her anywhere near my boy. Well until he was eighteen at least, at which time he could decide for himself if he wanted anything to do with her.

  It wasn’t a popular decision to keep Steel from her, she tried to convince me at every turn she had her addiction under control. I didn’t give a shit, I couldn’t, she’d put my son in danger for the last time. I wasn’t risking his safety with a junkie slut and I made my feeling on the matter clear. Like I said my boy and I are close, he’s chosen not to initiate contact with his mother and I stand by him in his decision. That’s not to say she doesn’t visit occasionally, but Steel laid it out for her swiftly without malice making it clear if he sensed she was high or intoxicated she could get her shit and fuck off back to wherever she came from.

  I wasn’t always like this; hostile, quick tempered, hard to please. This is what I turned into, how I’ve adapted to survive. It’s how I’ve learnt to cope with the shitty hand I’ve been dealt. Most days I don’t like myself, in truth I can barely stand to be around myself. So it isn’t surprising my brothers, my son occasionally, and my employees share that opinion. Lately I’ve taken it too far though. I fucked up big this time. I can admit it, and I’ll own the damage I’ve wreaked. That doesn’t fix it though. It doesn’t make a mends for the fruitless attempts I made to protect myself at the expense of someone else’s feelings. I know I shouldn’t be treating her the way I am. I recognise what I’m doing and why I’m doing it, but that only makes it worse in my book. Knowing what I’m doing and still choosing to do it regardless of the impact it’s having makes me a fucking asshole of the highest order.

  I tried reigning my shit in for a minute, but that turned out to be about as effective as pissing into the wind in a tornado and not expecting to get a shower. I’m not one for excuses, you do it you accept responsibility for it, fuck, you stand by it like a man. Regardless that my view’s stayed the same, shit, it’s what I’ve taught my son, I’m still doing.

  My attraction to her, the fact that I can’t get her out of my head, me wanting to fuck her within an inch of her life might explain me being a bastard to keep my distance from her, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve created carnage where I was supposed to create safety. Quite simply; I don’t blame her for not feeling safe with me. For not coming to me to tell me she needed help. That her situation is that bad she’s gotten herself a state of the art alarm system, handgun permit, and a fucking guard dog. But as my reasons don’t lessen the effect I’ve had on her, it also doesn’t change how fucking furious I am over her distrust of me. Now that I do know, I intend to take care of her situation whether she’ll let me, or not. I’m going to be the man that’s in her corner this time, not the asshole that’s treated her like the shit on my shoe, the bane of my existence.

  The blowback for me personally will be drastic, the effect on parts of my heart that have been buried forever will be staggering, it’s going to change life as I know it, I can feel it. That’s why I’ve treated her the way I have in the first place. It’s why I kept my distance, pushed her into a corner, to keep her away from me. Not only for her sake, but for mine too. I’m not a good man. I’m a man that’s seen violence, the rougher side of life and gravitated toward it. I’ve been the one to commit numerous heinous acts that would scare some of the hardest men. I drink too much. I fuck nameless, faceless women, club whores, barflies, any woman that wants a night on my cock so often that it’s embarrassing, almost. But that doesn’t change the reality that I’m making the choice to step in to the shit storm I know her situation’s going to be.

  Adelyn’s alone in Blackwater. Sure, Boss and Diesel will drop everything in a minute to run to her aide, be by her side, but I’ll be fucked if that isn’t part of my overreaction when it’s come to her. I don’t fucking want them to be here for her. I don’t want her relying on other men, I want her to rely on me. And how fucked up is that? I push her away, treat her like the plague, but I still have this overwhelming need to have her close, make her see that I’m the man that’ll fight for her. Yeah, I’m a fucking asshole, but we’ve established that already.

  There is nothing, never was and never will be, going on between Adelyn and the Vengeance MC President or VP, but that was beside the point and my logical brain wasn’t listening, all rational thought flies out the window when it comes her.

  The second I laid eyes on her I knew there was an innocence there that I wanted nothing more than to protect and nurture. I knew in that instant she was dangerous too. More dangerous than my ex-wife had ever been, more dangerous than any of the women I’d had my cock in. The depth of what I feel in one glance at the petite blonde can send me into a tailspin, the emotion she can illicit with one smile confirmed I wouldn’t stand a chance against her charms long term. Worse still, I didn’t think I had an inner beast as it relates to women, they were good for one thing in my mind, and it wasn’t commitment and relationships. That was until I met Adelyn Pippa London and I realised how wrong I’d been.

  She blew in like a breath of fresh air, something I hadn’t had access to, and hadn’t wanted for years. My world had been dark, stale, fresh and clean was a commodity I was sorely lacking. And ultimately I shouldn’t have taken that breath, I shouldn’t have looked at her more than once because it’s only ended up complicating shit for me. I should’ve said fucking no to Boss when he asked if I was looking for help at the shop, but I didn’t and now she here I wouldn’t change it for the world. But, now I’ve fucked up big. Bigger than I ever have before. Huge.

  Three weeks ago I’d had too much to drink, a frequent occurrence sure, but that day was worse than most. I’d desperately needed something, anything, to help me calm the fuck down. Usually I’m pretty cool, calm and collected, or that’s what most people assume. What they don’t know is that not far under the surface is an angry motherfucker fighting with everything in him to control the fury that lurks below. But that day my anger was too close to boiling over, it wanted to break free and destroy everything in its path.

  The MC has been slowly adjusting to Jones’ return from the dead, along with the knowledge that the four men heading the table during Church were working a twenty year undercover FBI sting. Honestly, they’ve taken it better than I anticipated, but that’s not to say I haven’t had to break up my fair share of arguments that turned physical before I could step in. I swear half the time they only do it to piss me off. Watching me wade in to save their asses gives them sick pleasure that I don’t understand, but whatever floats their boat. And today was one of those fucking days. Starting with walking into the clubhouse to find Pipe and Dagger in a standoff by the bar on the far wall furthest from the door. Just my luck that when I begin making my way to them Dagger lets a fist fly, his aim hitting true catching Pipe on the hinge of his jaw. Needing to separate them before they can do more bodily damage I pry them apart like fucking toddlers that can’t control their tempers.

  “What the fuck is your damage brother?” I ask Dagger.

  Scowling in Pipe’s direction he says,

  “He fucking is. Bad enough the club’s forgiven his shit, but now the bastard’s walking around like it never happened barking out orders, and shit. Well fuck that, and fuck him.”

  “Watch your mouth boy. You might be my brother, but you’re walking a thin fucking line right now,” Pipe growls at him. “Vote was taken, you were there for Christ’s sake, and the vote went our way, end of. Nothing’s changed, you can’t get behind that then we’ve got a big fucking problem. I’m your VP the only choice you
’ve got is whether we have more of these pointless fucking fights that end in you bleeding, or whether you get the fuck over yourself and move on. Let me know what you decide,” he says over his shoulder as he stomps off in the direction of the dorms.

  “You got a death wish?” Dagger’s got to know Pipe could lay him out flat in less than a minute. For fucks sake the man has forty pounds, and three inches on him.

  Snorting Dagger replies,

  “Fuck you too.” I’ll give him this, the kid has a set of balls on him. Not many people would tell me to fuck off, not to my face anyway.

  Laughing at the frown on his face I slap him on the back a couple of times saying,

  “I get you’re pissed, you’ve gotta reign it in though brother. Pipe might act harmless ninety-nine percent of the time, but I can fucking assure you he’s anything but, so watch it yeah?” With a grunt and a chin life Dagger makes his way away from me, and over to the bar at the far side of the room. There’s no way in hell I’m lucky enough that that’s the end of it. Dagger had a way about him that aggravates even the most laid back brother, so no doubt we’ll be having words again soon.

  Following that came a call from my daughter in-law, who I love like my own, but is also a pain in my ass with an attitude straight from the depths of hell. Lou might as well have been my daughter for the past six years, and while I wouldn’t change that for the world, I’d love nothing more than to install a mute button on her mouth somehow. She’s an excellent mom to my two grandbabies, Anna and Cal, (or Caleb if Lou’s in a pissy mood), a fucking magnificent wife to my son, and not to mention a beautiful person underneath her abrasive exterior.

  Steel had his eye on the pretty raven haired Lou since middle school when she moved to Blackwater with her mom. Like all teenage boys, my son was no different, he ignored the attraction not acting on it until years later. Instead he played the field becoming a first class pussy magnet by the age of sixteen. Not my proudest moment as a dad opening the door to another pissed the fuck off father demanding I get my boy to explain to him why he, “deflowered” his word not mine, his daughter. After asking Joe, I’ve known the guy for years and he’s always been more talk than action, how old his daughter was and him answering sixteen, I, as politely as I could which was not at all, told him to get the fuck off my property and not to bother coming back. They were both legal, and it was consensual. I don’t know what the asshole thought I could do about it.

  My son isn’t out seeking girls to occupy the backseat of his 1969 vintage mustang, they approach him I’ve seen it happen countless times, again not my proudest moment as a father, watching girls swarm to my son like he’s Gods’ gift to women, but I’m also not fucking stupid. That shit was going to happen sooner or later, I’m just glad he managed to keep his dick in check until then.

  I also didn’t condone him having sex in my house, something he was well aware of. It didn’t mean I’d stop him from making his own choices though, and in turn his own mistakes when it came to the girls he decided to fuck. He learnt, eventually. And it wasn’t long before Lou changed everything for him anyway. He just didn’t know it then.

  I’d seen it coming months before he claimed her at the clubhouse. Lou was getting more and more desperate with each passing day, openly working to get his attention, get him to notice her. And when I say working to get his attention I mean working. Her jeans turned into skirts, and those skirts got shorter and shorter. Her shirts got tighter, dipped lower, showed more cleavage. She was never not wearing makeup, something she could’ve easily gone without. It was evident she was spending the time to make sure she looked her best, which was beautiful, because she is. That didn’t mean you could talk sense into the hard headed woman. When she got an idea in her head, and in this case it was in relation to my son, Lou didn’t give up. She’s nothing if not relentless in her pursuit of getting what she wants.

  What a lot of women don’t get is that we like the packaging, but we love what’s underneath even more. You might catch our eye flashing some tits, or leg by skirting the line that borders inappropriate with the length of your dress almost barring your ass, but if you’ve got the personality of a doorknob, and fuck like a starfish you won’t warrant a repeat performance. Harsh but true. And something I myself are only just coming to value.

  Steel finally manned up, claiming his woman when a brother from an out-of-state chapter, Deacon, showed a little too much interest in Lou for my sons liking. Deacon grabbed Lou’s ass, practically burying his face in her tits as he leaned in to talk to her. It didn’t help matters that Lou looked terrified, it was plain on the nose on her face. Not that Deacon had noticed. His eyes were focused anywhere but Lou’s face. That was when my boy snapped. Something inside him let loose, something I’d never witnessed before. But women have a way of waking the dormant beast, forcing them out of hiding. And I can assure you in that moment my sons’ beast was seconds off tearing apart the guy currently hanging off what it deemed his woman.

  Inside a minute Steel had shaken off the club whore, Daisy, that’d been wrapped around him like a weed all night, made his way to the couple, and had Deacon on the floor cradling his very obviously broken nose. Less than five minutes later, after a heated argument, and virtually fucking his girl against the wall around the far side of the clubhouse courtyard, Steel announced that Lou was officially his, and any man that laid hands on her would answer to him. Pride in how my son handled his business that night radiated through me. My boy was now all grown up with a woman of his own, and I knew, I just knew kids wouldn’t be far off in their future. I was right. A year later Steel announced, in the middle of Rough Shod on a Friday night that his woman was having his baby. I couldn’t have been happier for them, and that hasn’t changed.

  Today’s call was nothing out of the ordinary, except for Lou’s rabid demand I not skip out on family dinner that Sunday night. Why this Sunday was any different was a mystery, but if it was that important to her I’d make sure I was there come hell or high water. Mind you, I’ve missed four dinners in nearly six years, but with the way she carried on about it you’d think it had been almost all of them. I’d find out later her insistence for my presence at a family meal was because she’d invited Adelyn too. What goes through Lou’s head is unknown to everyone, I don’t even think she knows half the time. But that time she’d crossed a line in the sand that I’d methodically drawn, making clear to anyone that’d listen the line was not to be crossed under any circumstances.

  The last thing I wanted was to see Adelyn outside work. It was hard enough feeling forced to take her on because of Boss’ requirement for her to have a change of scenery, let alone having to endure her in fucking social settings too. It was close to pushing me over the edge of my imaginary boundaries when it came to my proximity to her. I liked to keep my distance, and if I couldn’t I made sure she kept hers. But that night I bit my tongue, kept my mouth shut all throughout dinner, and when I was leaving thankfully at the same time as Adelyn was, I took the opportunity to tell her she wasn’t welcome to accept any more dinner invitations if it was a family affair.

  I didn’t do this nicely. I didn’t do it with a care as to how she’d take it. I did it with painstaking clarity making her aware I wouldn’t tolerate her anywhere near my fucking family, ever if I could help it. I did it with venom, ensuring she knew I especially didn’t want her kind associating with my grandbabies. And I did it with so much hatred I’m surprised she didn’t disintegrate into a puddle of tears like most women would on the spot. The look that marred her stunning features at my harsh words very nearly made me retract them on the spot. She looked crushed. As her eyes filled with tears, and her face began to crumple she turned to me saying,

  “Oka Max, I understand. I wouldn’t want someone like me around those precious babies either.”

  With that she got in her fully restored, lovingly cared for silver Shelby fastback and took off. Her words gutted me. They made me realise I’m the worst kind of bastard imaginable. And I�
�ve remembered, relived every single second of that interaction since it happened. It replays over and over again in my head alerting me to the fact that I don’t deserve to know her, or be in her presence, let alone have her talk to me ever again. The fact Adelyn took those hits, accepting my vicious words without rallying against them spoke volumes to the kind of woman she is. Where most people would think her weak because she didn’t fight back, she didn’t throw my hatred back at me like I deserved, I saw her as strong. I know how hard it is to stand down, take a step back and not retaliate.

  The worst part is that if I heard some other asshole, one that wasn’t me, speak to her that way I’d rip his fucking balls off tearing them out through his throat. Adelyn is special, she deserves respect, someone to cherish her for the gift she is, and even knowing that I still did it. I still broke another piece of the amazing woman she is, all because I was too fucking gutless to own up to the effect she has on me.

  The third, and almost final straw was Kendall, my niece, not by blood but by heart, insisted she’s throwing me a birthday party this year. My birthday wasn’t for another four weeks, and I had no desire to celebrate turning forty-seven but she couldn’t be dissuaded. In my mind it wasn’t a big birthday with a zero on the end, and I saw and still do, no need to draw attention to the fact that I was only getting older. Fuck. Who wants to celebrate getting another year closer to death? Kendall had other ideas though.