Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 2: Gage ~ Cash ~ Knight (Vengeance MC series Book 8)

by Natasha Thomas

  At my confused expression, Francesca goes on to explain,

  “Josephine informed me that you have a brother and that unfortunately, his health has taken a turn for the worse.” Nodding, I narrow my eyes on the woman but remain quiet. “What I am offering is room and board for both you and your brother, access to the best medical care money can provide, and the funds to aid your brother in receiving the operation he needs to save his life. My understanding is that without the surgery, he won’t make it until his next birthday. Is that correct?”

  The pain of discussing my brother's prognosis so nonchalantly stabs at my chest, causing my eyes to burn, and bile to creep up the back of my throat. Crossing my arms over my chest, I grit my teeth and answer,

  “Yes, that’s what the last doctor told my mother.”

  “And where is your mother pray tell?” She questions, cocking an eyebrow at me.

  “Dead,” I answer simply without emotion.

  “I see,” Francesca states, inclining her head. “In that case, I assume by the state of your clothing and willingness to take any job that comes your way, that you don’t have relatives able to take you into their homes?”

  She phrased it as a question, but Francesca already knew the answer. We didn’t. Pat and I had each other, no one else.

  “My terms are simple,” she continues. “I will ensure your brother is well taken care of, attends the best private high school in the state, that you both receive a new wardrobe and anything else your heart desires along with comfortable accommodations and food. In return, I will require you to sign a contract which states you will remain in my home with me for two years. After that, it will be up to you whether you continue your employment with me or if you choose to leave.”

  Struggling to comprehend what she’s proposing, I ask,

  “What would I be doing? I mean, what work will I be doing for you?”

  Smiling lasciviously, Josephine takes the opportunity to announce her departure,

  “I believe I will leave the two of you alone to discuss the particulars. If you need anything, Francesca, I will be out the front.”

  Francesca barely acknowledges her, never taking her eyes off me. When Josephine closes the door, she takes a step toward me, crowding me against the shelves as I try to retreat.

  This woman scares the shit out of me. Her presence alone is commanding; intimidating even.

  “I can see the questions in your eyes, Marshall, and I want to assure you that the contract I will have you sign is not only binding but also protects your interests as well as my own.”

  Pausing momentarily, Francesca runs her equally cold, delicate hand down my arm, tracing the veins bulging beneath the skin with her fingernail. I want nothing more than to shake her hand off me. This feels wrong – she feels wrong. I don’t, though. I let her pet me like a dog because I have to know what she wants in return for her generosity.

  Francesca stops what she’s doing, pulling my gaze from the sight of her blood-red fingernails on my arm with five words.

  “I want to fuck you.”

  Sensing my shock, she steps into my body, glancing her hand over the zipper of my jeans until it comes to rest on my flaccid cock.

  “I collect things, Marshall. I like to surround myself with beautiful objects, and if you agree to my proposition, you will be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned.”

  Holy fucking shit!

  To cut a long, painful story short, standing in an alley that smelled like rotting food, filled with garbage that led to the decaying corpse of a building my brother and I called home is when I made my decision and became a whore. A discerning one, destined to be used and discarded by one woman, and one woman only, but nevertheless still a whore.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ~ Kennedy Lewis ~

  “My idea of a good morning is one when I open my eyes, take a deep breath, then go back to sleep.”

  – A fact of life

  “Mom, are you sure you don’t need anything? I can stay you know, Jump will understand.” My son insists, looking at me with a shrewdness well beyond his years.

  Talon turns fifteen in three days, but to look at him, you would think he was going on thirty. I wish I could have given him the kind of childhood that let him grow into the man he was supposed to be slowly. But then again, I wish I could have given my son many things that carry far more importance such as, safety, security, and a mother who has her shit together.

  For a little over fifteen years, I’ve been drifting from one city to the next, never putting down roots, never staying longer than a year or two at best. That was no way for a child to live, certainly not one as gifted as Talon, but life has dealt me a crappy hand, forcing me to do the best I could with very little.

  “Leave your Ma alone, boy. She’s in good hand with me,” Sarge chuckles, earning a grin from Talon. “Now get on with you and see if that halfwit is here yet. My bet is he’s raiding my fucking fridge as we speak.”

  Talon’s piercing gray eyes stare at me one last time before he nods stiffly.

  “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, moving in to kiss my cheek before leaving for the afternoon.

  “He’s a good kid. You raised him right, Sunshine. Little too serious, but that won’t last long, what with him hanging around with that pack of idiots,” Sarge smiles broadly.

  It’s been a week and a half since I was released from the hospital after being stabbed by a knife intended for Aislinn. Initially, I thought I would return to the tiny motel room, pack up Talon and my belongings and get on the road again. However, when I was wheeled out of the hospital's front doors, I knew immediately that wasn’t the case.

  Facing a wall of leather-clad men with varying expressions of pity and anger, their women who looked on with sympathy, and an excited Emily, Sarge calmly informed me they were there to escort me to what they deemed my new home.

  Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to these men and women for everything they’ve done for Talon and I, but staying here, living here? I do not think so. And just to make things clear, my decision has nothing to do with the events that led up to my hospital stay.

  *****

  The night I was stabbed, I was scourring streets, alleys, parks, and unoccupied buildings searching for Talon. He had left our motel room without leaving a note while I was out getting him some food so that he could take his medication. Screaming from a warehouse on the corner I’d just passed had me pushing the door open without giving the danger that might lurk beyond a second thought. That was my first mistake.

  My second was not paying attention – my focus was elsewhere – like on the two women glaring at a third woman brandishing a gun. I must have startled the woman holding the gun, because before I knew it, Aislinn launched herself at who I now know is, Jess, as they fought over the firearm.

  I got caught in the middle and somehow ended up with an eight inch blade pertruding from my thigh. For what it’s worth, Jess hadn’t intended to stab me. Her anger was solely directed at Aislinn due to the misguided belief that she was stealing her man, which was wholly untrue.

  The truth is, Gage was Jess’ friend. Nothing more, nothing less. As Jonas’ sister, Jess wasn’t only off-limits because of the ‘bro code’, or whatever men call the moral code that says they aren’t allowed to touch each others sisters. The other reason, the most important one, is that Gage simply doesn’t see Jess that way. He has never had a romantic interest in her, much to Jess’ disappointment.

  I can see why Jess would be interested in Gage, however. The man is sinfully attractive, smart, kind, and devoted to those he loves. I mean, who wouldn't be attracted to someone like that? No one, that’s who. But that doesn’t change the facts. Gage loved Jess as a friend, and that just wasn’t good enough for her.

  Instead of accepting it, Jess made the decision to try and change the boundaries of their relationship by kidnapping Aislinn and her best friend Meg. She tied them up in the warehouse I found them in, and by the looks of things when I arr
ived, planned on killing them.

  How Jess thought that would alter the dynamic of her and Gage’s friendship positively is still beyond me. I can’t imagine that finding the love of your life dead at the hands of one of your best friends would be a precursor to a happily ever after, but what do I know? I haven’t had even one successful relationship, so I can only go based off common sense.

  In short, Jess was arrested and charged with multiple felonies. Aislinn, Meg, and I would be required to sit on the stand and give testimony as to what happened when her day in court comes, which isn’t something I’m looking forward to in the least.

  All of that aside, what was supposed to be a nice night in a motel eating pizza and watching movies with my son, turned into me being party to a live wrestling match in which I lost and needed surgery to repair the damage the knife caused, two blood transfusions and a hospital stay. Not my idea of a good time, that’s for sure.

  Which brings me back to why I’m not all that enthused to stay in another town that holds painful memories for me now. I’ve got enough of those in reserve; I don’t need anymore. Talon, however, is a totally different story.

  Talon was beside himself at the prospect of settling down, but I was terrified. Being here in Furnace anywhere near Cash was not part of the plan. He is unnerving at the best of times, but now, after what happened in that warehouse, Cash’s intensity has increased exponentially. Especially when it comes to discussions about me leaving.

  The first time I brought it up, he shut me down with an icy glare and a simple no. Subsequent times, Cash shook his head, added a few curse words before the no and stomped out. But the last conversation I tried to have with him hammered home what I’d known all along; Cash was dangerous. Not only to my sanity but to my heart as well.

  *****

  Wandering into Sarge’s kitchen, I stopped and stared at the phenomenally handsome, shirtless man working at the stove. His back was to me, which allowed me to take in the muscles that played under the tanned, heavily inked skin of his back.

  Cash is tattooed from the base of his neck down into the waistband of his pants. I have no earthly clue how far the intricately designed ink travels, nor will I lie and say I’m not dying to know. If the sheer amount of hours that has gone into the work that’s visible to the eye is anything to go by the man isn’t adverse to pain. And if that weren't enough to convince me, Cash’s eyebrow, tongue, and dual nipple piercings would have been.

  What fascinates me about Cash isn’t his physique, the colorful tattoos running the length of his torso or the glint of the metal I see every so often; it’s what works behind his eyes that has me almost desperately begging to hear him share his secrets.

  Behind the blank mask, I see pain. Whether he chooses to acknowledge it or not, it’s there. Embedded into the furthest recesses of his heart and soul, Cash knows the true meaning of suffering, and I suppose that’s why I feel drawn to him.

  Pain is something I can understand. It’s a tangible thing. How we deal with it may be different, but from one survivor to the next, we can spot one of our own.

  “Sleep well?” He asks, the rough cadence of his voice deep and dark, those two words filled with more emotion than most people can manage in a few sentences.

  “Yes, thank you,” I reply by rote.

  Talon and I may have been adopted by the men and women of Vengeance MC like one of their own, but I feel no more comfortable around them now than I did when I first met them. If anything, with Cash, I feel less at ease.

  Forking several rashers of bacon and scooping light, fluffy scrambled eggs onto a plate, Cash places it in front of me where I’m sitting at the counter.

  “Eat. You need to start building up your strength.”

  Avoiding answering him because I know this early in the morning I’m prone to bite his head off for telling me what to do, I nod and lift a piece of bacon to my lips. Chewing, I state,

  “Talon and I will be leaving in a few days, and I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for us in case I didn’t see you again before we go.”

  Cash has been a constant fixture at Sarge’s house since I was released, only leaving when it’s been absolutely necessary. He took up residence in one of the spare bedrooms and set about making sure I wouldn’t have to lift a finger while I have spent the week recovering, but enough is enough.

  I can’t keep relying on the generosity of strangers. It’s been just Talon and me for so long, and my independence is important to me. Critically so. I need to get out of here so that I can find a job and replenish my rapidly dwindling meager savings account, a place to live, and re-enrol Talon in school since I never intended to stay in Furnace this long.

  Why I’m here at all is becoming harder and harder to remember. Initially, it was to find the man who saved me from God only knows what all those years ago and finally thank him. But now, the lines are blurring, and I’m finding myself enjoying the feeling of peace I get from being here, surrounded by people who give a damn about my son and me. And that in and of itself is the most dangerous thing of all.

  I can’t afford to become too comfortable. My life's course was set sixteen years ago when my parents unceremoniously kicked me out and left me to fend for myself, and until now, I’ve done well to avoid any and all connections with people.

  Not that I’m saying all friendships or relationships are bad, it’s just that they aren’t for me. I have to be able to pack up at a moments notice, and that’s not exactly easy to do when you have people to answer to. A bit like now.

  Cash’s midnight blue eyes bore into me with such intensity I don’t know whether to avert my gaze or drop to my knees and suck him off. In all honesty, I’d prefer to engage in the second option, but by the expression on his face, I don’t think Cash would welcome my advances.

  I get it; I’m not his usual type. I’ve seen enough of them to know that Cash favors blondes and redheads with huge, artificially enhanced boobs who wear the bare minimum of clothing required by law. However, regardless of his penchant for plastic women, I can’t help but desire the man.

  Cash’s sexual magnetism isn’t something he consciously exudes, it’s merely who he is, and I am far from immune to it His awareness of his body’s appeal to woman, the cocky smirk, and his trademark swagger is far from a turn-off, and Cash knows it. That being said, I don’t ever plan on acting on how I feel about him.

  In my thirty years of life, I have been attracted to two men. The first was a mistake, my biggest. The second is Cash. In those same thirty years, I have slept with one man, and it wasn’t by choice. No barely fifteen-year-old chooses to have her innocence ripped from her in a dirty alleyway in the freezing cold by a man who she only thought was trying to help her.

  Cash was my savior that night. He offered to help me after I suffered the single most humiliating, depraved act a man can perpetrate upon a woman, yet I declined his assistance. It took everything in me to tell him no. I was scared, in no small amount of pain, and most probably going into shock, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept when I looked deep into his soulful blue eyes and saw he was carrying more than his own fair share of torment.

  A warm, calloused hand ghosts over my forearm, drawing my eyes up from the plate of food I had been steadily picking at until I’m once again staring into the eyes that make my insides turn to mush.

  “You and your boy aren’t going anywhere. You need some time to regroup, a place to stay, and people to take care of you, Kennedy. What you don’t need to be doing is driving halfway across the country searching for something you already have,” Cash growls.

  Flinching at how right his assumptions are, I pull my arm out of reach and recline further into my seat.

  “I appreciate the sentiment, Cash, but that’s not really your choice to make, is it?” I say, challenging him.

  “No, I don’t suppose it is,” he fires back. “But I suspect a good Mom such as yourself would see the benefits of living in a house instead of out of her fucking
car when she’s got a teenage boy with medical issues to take care of.”

  Oh, that’s low. Cash knows exactly where to hit me to make it count, and he didn’t pull any punches with that statement.

  For the most part, he’s right. Talon is the most important person in the world to me, and his safety is at the top of my list of wants for him. I get that living out of our beat-up twenty-year-old Suburban isn’t ideal, but it was only temporary – until I found a new job and could save enough money for first, last, and a security deposit on a small apartment of our own.

  My old boss was a dick. A colossal dick. After making multiple complaints about his inappropriate comments, and the way he would brush past me making sure to run his hand across my ass or breasts, and them not doing anything about it, I’d had enough.

  I ensured that his office door was open, plenty of people were milling around, I was close enough to the exit to make an escape if necessary, and confronted my boss regarding his blatant sexual harassment. To say that he was furious, would be a gross understatement.