Charlie's Heart: MC Romance (Burning Bastards MC Book 3)

by Ryder Dane

  Selma was telling him that she was fine and could walk, and Big Dog told her to button it. “The doctor said off your feet or didn’t you hear that?” He turned to Charlie and handed her over into his arms.

  “It’s about time you got back. Church is at seven tomorrow night, don’t be late.”

  The door shut behind him and the van pulled away from the curb before either of them spoke. They were too busy kissing and holding onto each other to speak coherently anyway. He made it to the bedroom and almost dropped her tripping over his kit on the floor but recovered and plopped his ass on the mattress with her landing hard on his stomach.

  She was laughing and scooting off him as he gasped for breath. She cradled his face in her hands and kissed him gently on the lips. “I need to talk to you, before we go any further right now, would you get my purse off the floor in the living room? I heard it drop when you two He-Men insisted on carrying me like a sack of potatoes.”

  He sat up and looked at her for a minute. She looked good, if a little tired, but her cheeks were pink and her eyes were smiling. He nodded his head and groaned as he stood up and walked into the hallway toward the spot in the entranceway where her black leather purse sat on the floor. He hefted it and wondered what in the hell women kept in the damned things to make them so heavy. Hell, a man carried everything he needed in a couple of pockets. Women were strange, but he had to smile at her as he walked back into the bedroom. There were a lot of benefits to having a woman around.

  “I don’t know what’s in this thing, but did you ever consider arm wrestling? As heavy as it is, you must have some good muscles in those delicate arms of yours.”

  She smiled and patted the bed next to her as she moved to open the snap under the flap of the bag. “I was just at the hospital to have some tests that my doctor wanted to run, and I peeked in on Pressley. That’s where I ran into those two bossy funny men. I had a little faint and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the emergency room.”

  She rummaged around in her purse for a minute and handed him a black and white picture of what looked to him like a radar picture of a tornado. She looked at the picture as if she’d handed him a winning lottery ticket and he knew it must mean something important, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what it was he held in his fingertips.

  When he didn’t say anything, he could see the frightened look cross her face almost like she wondered if he was happy or not. His next words reassured her that he had no idea what he held.

  “Babydoll, I know this mean something, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what you’re trying to show me here. A little hint of something might be helpful, you know.”

  She put her finger on the small bean looking thing and pole axed him. “You see that little spot? That’s our baby. I’ve been feeling off for a few weeks so I went to the doctor. They did this sonogram in the emergency room and… Oh God it never occurred to me to use birth control. I felt as dumb as could be when the doctor told me I was pregnant.”

  He stood and walked around the room twice. He looked at her and the picture still between his fingers, and walked around the room twice more. He stood in front of her and looked at her for long minutes before sinking to his knees and pushing her onto back. He pulled her slacks down enough to see her belly and roughly pushed the material of her blouse up to reveal her entire stomach area. His big hands laid over the exposed skin of her torso and he kept them there, staring at the smooth flesh beneath his touch. His lips kissed the spot between his splayed hands and he let his hands fall to her hips as he laid his head over the middle of her stomach.

  “Do you know what you are? You are a miracle, woman, and I’ll never be able to tell you how much I love you and what a gift you are to me. I never thought I would have a child of my own, but I never knew that you were waiting for me either. I don’t have the words to make you understand and I might never have them.” He lifted his head and locked her eyes with his. “I’ll love you until I take my last breath, woman, never doubt it.”

  Epilogue

  The wedding had been beautiful and Selma was thanking Future and Jolly for arranging the event on such short notice. She had shown Charlie her gift to him last night and he made slow sweet love to her afterward. The tattoo that she had snuck around to get Show to give her was simple and as she found out, the best present she could have given her husband. The words “Charlie’s Heart” was now decorating the spot over the place where her own heart lay beating beneath the flesh and bones.

  He was with the men doing there best to drain a keg of beer, and she felt sorry for him because it seemed the taste of beer gagged him nowadays. The scent of dryer sheets sent him running to the bathroom and he carried his sugar packet with him again. She bought them at the restaurant supply store to make certain he always had his favorite treat. No woman could be happier than she was and it was all due to the man that was looking back at her with his sexy smile.

  Books by Ryder Dane

  Burning Bastards MC

  Big Dog

  Nomads’ Fall

  Charlie’s Heart

  Lucifer’s Breed MC

  Sanctuary Within the Breed

  Integrity Has No Bounds

  Coming Soon - Book Three

  I would love to hear from you.

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  Teaser from the new book Rain Falls in the brand new series Lady Riders by Harley McRide

  “Ladies? Let’s ride.” Chevy’s words had all the women of both MC clubs mounting their bikes and roaring off down the road, taking the lead ahead of their guys who’d protect them—and would die for them.

  Rain rode in the back of the pack, yes she agreed with everything her friends had said and done. However, once they learned the truth about her. Shady and the others were going to fucking freak, and the worst thing was, she was going to have to tell them soon. Because the fucking devil had come calling, and her debt was owed.

  Yes she had been stupid enough to make a deal with the devil, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t find her for a long time. She had made sure she changed her name, and her appearance, but apparently when you had a black soul, killing people to get information wasn’t beyond your scope of what you would do to find someone.

  The call right before she left to come to Mexico had proved that. She still hadn’t dealt with the guilt she was feeling for hiding info from them. Then of course, she wasn’t sure if her past was connected to this situation. Who would have thought Shady’s crazy ass family was in the skin trade. Everything happens for a reason, Rain thought and leaned over her bike and sped up. She needed to feel the air in her hair, and the freedom of the wind. Shit, she was going to have to finally talk about this shit. How would they all feel knowing she was still married to a monster.

  Excerpt from Integrity Has No Bounds

  Lucifer’s Breed MC book two

  By Ryder Dane

  John walked into the bar the club held the note on, looking for the owner. He spied her mounting the steps of the small dais and found himself a seat at the bar ordering a beer. He could wait, it wasn’t like he had somewhere to be tonight. He planned to go home after this last stop.

  The tables were full of people, some of them wore their desperation to find a significant other or just tonight’s bed partner. The bartender handed him a draft beer he had yet to order, and told him the lady at table fourteen sent it. He nodded toward the table and saw Ronnie Davis with three other women. Ronnie didn’t smile at him, she stared at him with what he could only describe as heat. He shook his head and told the bartender to take the drink to her. It surprised the man, but he shrugged and took the glass over to the woman. Ronnie smirked, put the glass to her lips and drank half of the contents without taking a breath.

  He understood what she was doing, the challenge was what she thrived on, and she had him firmly in her sights. John didn’t fuck around playing games when he wanted someone. He paid for his p
leasures one way or the other, sometimes he’d take a chunk off the price of an oil change, or some repair that was too pricey for the vehicles owner to pay cash for. Sometimes it was money, or even dinner and a few drinks. He never took without giving back. Too many fuckers took advantage of women and vulnerable ones at that. No meant no as far as he was concerned, there were plenty of others who always said yes.

  Ronnie was a beautiful woman, there was nothing innocent or complicated about her, and he wished they could be friends instead of him being her prey. He didn’t like aggressive women, and she wore her independence like a neon light. If she were a man, she’d be the perfect companion, always ready for a new adventure, always ready to fight, just uncomplicated and fun to have around.

  He rapped on the bar and ordered a longneck. The bartender gave him a shake of his head, but brought the bottle. He twisted his own cap and flipped the thing on the wooden surface before turning around on the stool to watch Stevie Hill begin to play her guitar. She played two acoustic pieces he didn’t recognize, but still liked the music, and then she began singing. Her voice wasn’t angelic as some women could be described as having. There was a rasp and he could only describe it as a halting earthy sound, he liked it. Her voice made him think of hot sex on cool sheets.

  She fascinated him. Her hair was straw colored blond, and if he had to guess the length, it would be long. The way she twisted it in a knot at the back of her head made it difficult to tell. The first time he looked into her blue eyes, he felt his stomach tighten, and each time he watched her curvy body walk into a room, onto the stage, hell, she could be sitting twiddling her thumbs and his dick would wake up. She was probably five ten in height, and she had a smart mouth on her, but it didn’t stop him from wanting her.

  She was intelligent, and could really keep him on his toes to hold a conversation with her. It was damn difficult to multitask when she laughed. There was no restraint when she laughed, he’d been like a damn dog every time he caught sight of her, and if he were on his deathbed, the sound of her laughter would wake him up. Something he would do to just to see that smile.

  He stayed away from this place as much as he could because of the woman on the stage. She took the place over when her brother left, and she was actually doing better at managing the business than her brother had been. She never made excuses, and was never late on a payment. It was why he was here tonight. Burger asked him to pick up the money for him, and since John couldn’t come up with a legitimate reason not to come tonight, here he was, torturing himself with listening to the woman whose voice haunted his nights. The more he knew about her—the harder it was to keep himself from begging her for any little scrap of attention she might give him.

  Excerpt from Two Worlds Collide – A Biker’s Journey

  By Rory Flannigan

  I am putting all this in writing not because I lived a particularly splendid life, nor because I am proud of all the things I've done and feel the need that I should brag about them. I think I am mostly putting it down on paper to remember special things to me in my past, and all the things I've done and seen, which have made me the man I am today. And especially more importantly, all the people I've known who will be remembered after I'm gone.

  Within this story, I will not use the names of any person, nor will I name any particular organization I was associated with in my life. Not because names aren't important, but only because most of the ones I knew have either passed on, or they probably wouldn't care to have their name associated with anything I tell you about. Within this book, I will tell you of people who were like family to me, and some of them who actually were. But others were just people I spent the majority of my life with, and over time they became like brothers and sisters to me.

  I will tell you my view of who these people really were, and not the views, assumptions, and opinions of news media outlets looking to make a buck from sensationalizing a group of people. Nor the opinions of law enforcement that didn't know them, and never spent over a few minutes with any of them. However, they criticized and criminalized them to have an enemy to fight against.

  Yes, I'm speaking of bikers and bike clubs. You know, the kind of bikers who have been demonized in movies, television, and newspapers since the 1930s. Those entities will always tell you only one side of the story in order to sensationalize and make money off nothing more than their opinion. But here I will tell you in as much detail as possible my version of who these people really are.

  No, I don't expect to change many hearts and minds with what I tell you here. Though I am in hopes it will give those that read this a different perspective as to who and what we really are. Because face the facts…we have been around for over 80 years, and we haven't ever had the ability to take over the world or even cause any radical change to the world. Logically, how could we be all that we have been hyped-up to being?

  So…before I get into the crux of the story, I guess I should begin where all stories begin—the birth of the subject. And since the subject of this story is myself, we shall begin there. However, I must first assure you that I have no remembrance of 1958, which was the year of my birth.

  My earliest recollection of reality didn't come to me until about 1961. At three years old, and being born into a somewhat reclusive and scattered family, as far as I can recall I was a happy child. But at the age of three or four years old, how would I really know one way or the other since I had nothing else to compare it to at the time. It was possibly about the time of life when I realized I was different in some ways, compared to other kids my age. Most kids in my age group had a stable family life, and they lived at home with a mother and father, but I never had a concept of that, because the way things were when I was a child, my grandfather had played the role of the father figure in my life. While other kids saw it as odd, it was normal to me, or the only normal I knew at the time.

  I was born to a single mother, because my father had decided to leave before I was born, and since it was his choice to do so, he seems to be pretty much irrelevant to any events in my life. I do have a recollection of him in the sense of when my mother and my grandparents talked about him, they referred to him as "Hardhead" or our "Sperm Donor". And the only connection we had to him was through his parents, who would show up once a year or so to visit my brother, not necessarily to visit me. From what I was told, they labored under the illusion that I possibly wasn't his kid, so they never claimed me as one of their grandchildren. I did meet my sperm donor for the first time when I was about thirty-four years old, and other than me looking somewhat like him, that was the extent of the connection with him. It seems I was unlucky enough to get his looks, but my brother was unlucky enough to get his piss poor attitude and mentality as a human being. I've never had any dealings with the man—I don't know him—and have no wishes to know him. Therefore, I have no feeling good or bad for him. He could die tomorrow, and I wouldn't shed a tear over his death.

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