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

by Natasha Thomas

  Needless to say, Sarge’s suggestion now is a little out of left field if you take everything else into account.

  “Only one problem with that, brother,” I say, dropping my voice an octave.

  Stopping my explanation short, he grips my shoulder tighter, squeezing hard.

  “When are you gonna come clean and get him help?” He asks, his slate gray eyes too shrewd, too knowing, making me uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “The longer this goes on, the worse it’s gonna be for him.”

  “You don’t think I know that?” I bite out angrily. “Years, Sarge. Fucking years, I’ve been trying to sort his ass out, and for what? For him to relapse as soon as my back’s turned. No,” I shake my head seething. “I’m done fighting his battles for him.”

  “It’s that easy, is it? To turn your back on your blood, give up on him because if that’s the case, then you don’t deserve that sweet woman and her boy,” Sarge informs me. “I thought you were a better man than that, Cash. Of all the Vengeance brothers, I pegged you as the one that’d go the distance, but what you’re saying tells me I was wrong. Kennedy needs a man who’s not willing to give up on her, even when the going gets tough. And trust me, son, the road to her heart is going to be a fucking tough one, but it will be worth it in the end.”

  This is where things get difficult, because believe it or not, what Sarge is asking me to do is choose between my brother and the woman I’m sure I’m half in love with already.

  When I was sixteen, cold, tired, scared, and all alone in the world except for Jump, I promised myself I would always be there to look out for my younger brother. I vowed to protect him with my life. Everything I’ve done to this point has been for him. Every single fucking horrific act I participated in was for Jump.

  The degradation of allowing a woman to use my body how she saw fit and getting off on it, regardless of how sick it made me afterward. The fear that followed when she threatened to use Jump the same way if I didn’t cooperate and keep my mouth shut. The sex clubs, public orgies, being tied up, held down, and fucked by women – strangers no less – who used my body to get off in ways that still have me forcing the bile back down my throat at the thought of them.

  And in the end, it was all for nothing. My brother still suffered, maybe not at Josephine or any other woman’s hands, but nevertheless, he suffered. Jump won’t talk about whatever is eating away at his soul, destroying it piece by piece, and no amount of demanding, begging, or yelling on my part has changed that.

  The only time he’s looked even remotely like the man he was before his downward spiral is when he’s with Kennedy or Talon. They seem to reach him in a way not even Meg could, and I’m thankful for it. Jump needs someone, and albeit I wish that someone was me, I’m glad he’s found whatever it is he lost in them.

  “Cash,” Sarge prompts. “Son, you have to talk to, Boss. Shit, talk to Knight, his brother Nate was dealing something similar not long ago. I’ll do whatever I can to help you keep this quiet if you still choose to keep it from the club, but things have a way of coming out when you least want them to. I’ve seen it happen time and time again, boy. If no one else, give Boss the heads up about what you’re dealing with and decide afterward whether you’re going to bring everyone else in. They boys will get it, Cash. I promise you that. No matter what, they’ll be there to support you and him while he gets his shit together, but don’t let his struggles affect the rest of your life. Especially not when it comes to Kennedy.”

  I know he’s right. About all of it. But how do you tell your friends, your brothers, your fucking family that your brother is a junkie, and you’ve hidden it from them for years?

  CHAPTER SIX

  ~ Kennedy ~

  “That’s a horrible idea. What time do I need to be there, and do I need to bring bail money?”

  – Kennedy to Aislinn

  “Thank you for meeting me here on such short notice. I know you probably had better things to do,” I say, taking a long drink of the red wine Zander ordered for me.

  “Nothing better than the company of a beautiful woman,” he replies, grinning widely at me. “But you didn’t invite me here to eat dinner and make small talk, so what do you say we cut straight to the chase, and you tell me what you need from me?”

  Well, that about sums it up then, doesn’t it? And he’s not wrong; I didn’t ask him here to have dinner with me.

  Like all small towns, gossip is rampant, and Furnace is no different. When I overheard two women talking about a man named Zander who works on the highway crew, resurfacing and repairing roads but runs a side business forging documents, I couldn’t believe my luck.

  It didn’t take long to get a hold of his phone number, or set up a meeting to discuss what I needed him to do for me. Zander was more than happy to create new passports for both Talon and me, as well as a drivers license for me, and obtain credit cards and a new social security number for the right price. That price being five thousand now, and another five thousand on delivery.

  We don’t have much, Talon and I, but I was smart about putting some of my paychecks away each week. After twelve years of scrimping and saving, I have a small nest egg, which albeit will be nearly cleaned out after paying his fee, but at this point I don’t have a choice.

  Somehow, regardless of how many times I’ve moved and how well I’ve hidden, Michael found me. Moreover, Michael found Talon.

  That night in the alley, before Cash arrived, Michael stole more than my innocence; he stole my wallet which had my identification in it too. Back then, young, terrified, and naïve I didn’t think about much aside from how I would take care of the baby that was growing inside me. Everything else was insignificant. All that mattered was my son.

  I managed to get a driver's license eventually, but of course, because all I had was my birth certificate, it had to be in my real name. When months, and then years passed without anyone coming to look for me, I honestly believed I was home free. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Apparently Michael had been searching for me, but at every turn, I had successfully evaded him, not because I knew he was coming for me, but out of sheer dumb luck. He was either a day or two behind me, showing up just hours after I had left town. Once only minutes separated him from finding us, according to him.

  Why he is still pursuing us is anyone’s guess. I can only imagine it’s because he wants the only thing he can’t have; my son. There is no scenario in which I would let that man come within five hundred feet of Talon, he has to know that. I will fight tooth and nail, sacrifice my last breath to ensure my son never has to lay eyes on the man who contributed his DNA by raping me, culminating in Talon’s conception.

  I don’t lie to my son. Talon knows the details around my pregnancy with him. He began asking about his dad when he was five, and I staved off the questions by telling him his father wasn’t a part of his life but that I loved him enough for two parents, which is no less true now as it was then.

  Ultimately, my vague answers and distractions didn’t cut it anymore. Talon is a highly intelligent kid, so as he got older, the questions became more frequent as did his curiosity about where he came from and who.

  It broke my heart the day I had to sit him down and explain how he came to be. I may have left out the details, but I can still remember that conversation like it took place yesterday. The look on Talon’s eleven-year-old face as I divulged the events of that night is something I will never forget.

  He cried in my arms that night, refusing to sleep in his own bed for weeks afterward. And as sad as it is, that was the night my son became a man.

  Talon took it upon himself to look after me, become the man of the house, or apartment as the case may be. Every morning and night, he would double check the locks on the windows and doors, make sure no one was lurking around as we came and went from wherever we were staying at the time and made me promise never to walk home alone at night.

  As he’s gotten older and bigger, now towering over my barely fiv
e-foot frame, Talon started getting increasingly more paranoid about my safety especially, which is why it threw me for a loop when he took to the men who belong to Vengeance so well.

  For the most part, Talon is suspicious about all men, and rightly so. He is wary of anyone who shows more than a passing interest or polite curiosity about his mother, so when he was faced with Cash, Jump and their brothers I worried about his reaction, evidently, needlessly.

  It’s been two days since I received the certified letter informing me that Michael intends to file for custody of Talon. Two days since I have been able to take a deep breath. Hence, the reason I’m sitting across from Zander about to offer him a bonus if he can get the documents I need together within the next week.

  Biting the corner of my lip, I watch as Zander takes a healthy swallow of his scotch. The female part of me can appreciate that he is indeed an attractive man, not that I’m interested in him like that, but that doesn’t change facts.

  Dark wavy hair which is long overdue a good cut frames his angular face, complete with a square jaw and pronounced cheekbones. Zander isn’t tattooed or pierced, and I don’t think he’s quite six foot, but his body is no less powerful than a lot of the MC men. His physique isn’t honed from time spent in the gym, though. His muscled bulk is entirely due to the nature of his job.

  Pushing those thoughts away, I query,

  “How much would it cost to put a rush on the work you’re doing for me?”

  I’m hoping and praying he doesn’t give me a figure more than seven thousand dollars because everything else I have saved is allocated to beginning a new life for Talon and me wherever we choose to settle.

  “Why do you need them so quick?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow at me. “I told you from the beginning it would take a month. You didn’t seem to have a problem then, so what’s changed?”

  “My business isn’t yours,” I say, asserting myself. “Can you get it done or not?”

  “Oh, I can do it all right, but I don’t think you’ll be able to afford the extra fee,” Zander smirks, raking his gaze over my chest.

  Doing my best to cover my breast by crossing my arms over them, I tilt my head and ask,

  “How much?”

  Zander doesn’t hesitate to answer and at his words a shiver of revulsion skitters down my spine.

  “One night of you in my bed should cover it.”

  If I were paying attention, I would have felt the static energy in the restaurant go wired. But as it is, I was too busy trying not to throw up all over my shoes at Zander’s suggestion, so I missed the early warning sign.

  Zander’s head snaps up, and his back straightens as a shadow falls over our table. His dark brown eyes narrow on whoever is standing behind me, but I don’t even need to turn around to confirm who it is. I would know his cologne, along with the distinct smell of leather and musk anywhere.

  “You say anything else, you’re going to be breathing through a tube for the rest of your life, motherfucker,” Cash growls, using one hand to sweep the hair off my neck and over my shoulder.

  Leaning down until his lips are close to my ear, Cash whispers,

  “Get your purse and then get your ass out to my bike and wait for me.”

  My nipples harden at his roughly delivered command. And don’t doubt for an instant it is, in fact, a command. Cash doesn’t make requests, he gives orders, and I’m ashamed to say that during the lonely nights left with nothing but visions of him and my hand, I have pleasured myself more than a few times imagining him giving me orders while we are both naked in bed together.

  “Cash,” I murmur, not sure whether I’m asking him to stand down or keep talking to me in the gravelly voice that screams sex and sin.

  “Do as I say, baby. We’ll talk about what you’re doing here with this asshole when we get home. But for now, I need you to take your sexy ass out of here while I deal with him,” he rasps, placing a soft kiss on the sensitive skin behind my ear.

  “You and I have got nothing to talk about, man. This is between me and her,” Zander states, gesturing to me across the table.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, asshole,” Cash snarls. “I’m making it my business.” Biting down on the shell of my ear, Cash slides my chair out as I reach down and snap my purse. “Jump’s outside waiting for you. He’ll stay with you until I’m done here and then take off. Go tell him I’ll be out in five, baby.”

  I nod at him because somewhere between kissing my neck and biting my ear, I lost the ability to speak.

  Running the tip of his finger across my collarbone, Cash rests his forehead on mine. A gesture I’m coming to learn is his way of showing affection. And I love it.

  “We’ve got a lot to discuss later, gorgeous, but I want to give you something to think about while you’re waiting for me.”

  Cash’s hands fall to my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as his mouth crashes against mine. This kiss is nothing short of carnal. Sexual heat, his desire for me, the need I can sense coming off him in waves is all poured into the way he mates his mouth with mine.

  If I was scared before, it has nothing on what I’m feeling now. However, the fear thrumming through my veins as I tangle my tongue with his isn’t because I think Cash will hurt me; it’s because I know he will, but I don’t let that stop me from taking what he’s offering me.

  My dreams have been filled with this man. Every sexual fantasy I’ve had since I was fifteen he has been the star of. For a woman with no experience other than one horrible, frightening encounter, I have a surprisingly creative imagination when it comes to things I would like to do with Cash.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, gorgeous,” Cash groans when he finally tears his mouth from mine. “Thought I remembered how sweet you taste, but my memories are nothing like the reality of having my lips on yours, and that pretty pink tongue in my mouth.”

  Looking up at him panting with need, I can feel my panties dampen with every passing second. If he had kept going and continued kissing me, I would have had an orgasm in front of everyone in the restaurant who are currently starring on with avid fascination.

  As if he’s reading my mind, Cash chuckles darkly.

  “Never gonna happen. There’s no way in hell I’d share the first time I make you come with anyone. Fuck that. I won’t ever let anyone see what’s for my eyes only.” With a swift slap to my backside, Cash instructs, “Get out of here, gorgeous, and go wait with Jump. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Not willing to test his patience any longer, I don’t waste time making my way toward the exit, only stopping to look over my shoulder once, and what I see has me hurrying out calling for Jump as I do.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ~ Cash ~

  “Askhole; A person who constantly asks for advice, yet always does the opposite of what you told them to.”

  – Tumblr quote

  I grab Zander by the front of his preppy fucking polo shirt as soon as I see Kennedy push the front door to the restaurant open and step outside.

  “Whatever she gave you better be in my hand by morning or you and I are going to have bigger issues than we’ve already got. Now, be a good boy and tell me you get me.”

  Just like I thought, the pathetic excuse for a man nods his head rapidly, having ceased struggling to free himself from my hold as soon as Kennedy was no longer in sight.

  “I-I promise,” he stammers. “I’ll get you the money now if you let me go.”

  “You and I both know you don’t carry around that sort of bank, fuckwit, so don’t bother bullshitting me and making things worse for yourself. Just get the cash to me by nine, and we’ll call it even.” We won’t, but Zander doesn’t need to know that right now.

  If he were smart, which he’s fucking not, he’d run and hide after he delivers what I’m asking for because this shit is far from over.

  Zander Lyons is known to the MC and most of Furnace as the guy you go to when you need to get yourself out of a bind. There’s not much he can’t do or
procure with the right incentive, which in his case is and always has been money. How a guy who barely graduated high school established the contacts he’d need to run his side business successfully is beyond me, but the proof of how well he’s doing is hard to overlook.

  No man can afford to buy a brand new split level house, drive a beamer, and dress like he’s going to a country club for lunch when he works on a road crew fixing potholes.

  Slowly, I release my hold on the front of his shirt and immediately his hand flies up to smooth the wrinkled fabric.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance we can just forget this, is there? I mean, I’ll return the five thousand she paid me and give you the passports, but after that, you’ll leave me alone, right?”

  Fucking hell! Five thousand? This guy is either really fucking good at what he does, or he’s seriously overcharging.

  “You know me, Zander. You know what I stand for, so I think you can answer that question yourself. I’ll be at the L & M Construction offices in the morning, make sure you’re there,” I warn.