Mike

by Daniela Jackson

  Sally was sent by the Broken Crusaders. She found us in the Devil’s Tears’ compound, but she didn’t manage to report back to the Broken Crusaders about it. I assume nobody has managed to report back to the Voronins either.

  I put a bullet into that scumbag’s skull and we dispose of him in the woods.

  Daisy recovers.

  I bring her to the compound. We pack two bags and go to the Spanish Pyrenees.

  Two days later, we step into Zane’s house. Brianna is so concerned about Daisy’s pregnancy she forgets to reprimand me. Yep, Dimitri’s lack of mercy during the training sessions saved my little rat and the baby rat in her womb. The knife just slid against her ribs and didn’t cause any serious injury.

  Zane is so stunned with the prospect of becoming a granddad, he forgets to knock my teeth out and Dimitri just flicks his eyes over his machete and pats my shoulder.

  We go to church and I spill everything about Lizzie and Rebel.

  There’s silence—cold and harsh then Zane nods.

  “I… I fucking… relieved,” Zane says.

  “You did the right thing,” Dimitri says. “I fucking want to grab my machete, son, but you did the right thing.”

  “Who was Lizzie?” Tyler asks. “Mom sometimes mentions this name.”

  “Old times,” Dimitri says. He nods several times. “I sometimes make wrong decisions too and the good people have to fix it.”

  We finish church and go upstairs. Brianna bombards me with questions as we settle ourselves in the living room.

  “You have a son,” Brianna says and looks at me like I’m some fucking alien.

  “Lizzie had a life,” Rey says, “unlike others. It was the best thing to do regarding the circumstances.”

  “To the training room,” Zane says as we finish our beer.

  I nod as adrenaline fills my veins. I will be covered in bruising soon. I’ll have my nose broken. I’ll have my fingers broken, maybe even an arm broken. I’ll have my honour back.

  Dimitri rubs his hands together and rises to his feet. An evil grin crosses his face.

  I’ve never fought with Samael. I can’t wait to.

  Daisy

  Four months later.

  Mike and I are standing in our kitchen and he’s talking over the phone. He wrinkles his forehead and disconnects.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “Gunner Junior is in trouble.”

  “Gunner Junior is always in trouble.”

  “This is serious. He can expose us all.” Mike threads his fingers through his hair. His jaw muscles twitch. “They’re going to take him out of jail.”

  “Auntie Sive—“

  “No, not this way. It’s too late to do it by this route.”

  Ice fills my veins. “When?”

  “Tomorrow. Gunner didn’t say anything to anyone until it was too late. There’s no other way.”

  “I’ll pray for them.”

  “You’d better.”

  Mike

  Daisy jumps onto my lap as my phone rings. I grab it and answer it. It’s Zane. He starts talking. I don’t understand at first. It’s a blur to me because my brain rebels against that dreadful news coming out of his mouth.

  “What?” I growl. “Zane, you fucking—“

  “Shay is dead,” Zane says. “And we can’t even bury him.”

  “There must be some fucking mistake,” I say.

  It can’t be. It’s too impossible. Not Shay. Not that good and smart kid.

  “Mike,” Zane says as his voice falters. “Tell Daisy.” He disconnects.

  Silence rings in my ears then I hear my own heart thumping. I look at my wife.

  “I heard everything,” she says. “The speaker was on.” She shudders and slides from my lap.

  She stands three steps away from me, her face white like that of a sculpture in a medieval church. She tilts her head, takes a sharp breath and emits a scream.

  Tears blind me, and I can’t move.

  Daisy moves back, turns around and leaves the house. I rise to my feet. Everything stiffens inside me. There’s no room for my emotions. I have to be all for Daisy now.

  I catch up with her by the compound’s wall.

  “Daisy,” I say gently.

  “Not Shay,” she sobs.

  “We bury those left behind in our hearts and live our fucked up lives. You said that.”

  “I know.”

  “Our baby—“

  “I know.”

  I can see her collect her wits.

  “Tell Rebel to come to our place,” she says, her voice crystal, strong. “We should drink vodka to Shay.”

  “I know, baby.” I throw my arm over her back and kiss the top of her head.

  ***

  Two months later.

  Gabriel offers me a cigarette. I light it and inhale the smoke as my eyes roam over the garage. Ten bikes stand at the wall. The smell of petrol, oil and tyres settles in my nostrils.

  “I’m gonna fucking miss my bike,” Gabriel says in a gruff voice.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “To hell. Soon. I have this big hole in my lungs, remember? It’s gonna kill me sooner or later.” He smokes his cigarette as I freeze. “I wanna ask you for a favour.”

  “Ask, brother,” I rasp and throw my cigarette to the floor, crushing it under my foot.

  I will buy myself an e-cig as soon as possible. I don’t want to end up like Gabriel.

  Gabriel chuckles at my gesture then coughs. It sounds like there is glue in his lungs. He pats my shoulder, and a delicate sense of loss wafts through me as pain pricks my heart like a needle.

  “Star,” he says.

  “Daisy and I will take care of her when you—“

  He nods. “No man will ever want to take her, ya know.” He nods again. “She’s kind of dumb.” Concern fills his eyes.

  “She’s special, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, she is special. The doctors called it autism. She can be very smart, but other times, she’ll be dumb as fuck.” He squeezes my shoulder. “That bitch, Monica, left her for hours. Star must have cried in her cot for hours.” His voice falters, strangled by raw emotion. “For hours.”

  “Daisy and I will take her to our place if you decide to go to hell one day. She’ll be like our daughter, I promise you, brother.”

  I don’t know what else to say to give him peace so I say nothing.

  “Thank you,” he says and clears his throat. “Your boy likes her. He’s always liked her. He’s a good kid.”

  Yep, Rebel is a good kid. He will take Star as his old lady the moment Gabriel lets out his final breath, but I’m not going to enlighten the former president.

  “I thought I’d go to Tibet,” Gabriel says. “While I still can. Star’s gonna move in with you the next week.”

  I chuckle. “How long are you going for?”

  “For a year, maybe a year and a half. I’ve always had this dream to see Tibet.”

  “Take some photos.”

  “I’m gonna meditate not take photos.”

  I erupt into laughter. “Are you gonna shave your head?”

  “Possibly. I’m gonna quit smoking for sure.”

  “You’d better.”

  “Let’s have some beer,” Gabriel says and slaps me on the back.

  Epilogue

  Daisy

  The rocking chair screeches as I start singing a lullaby for my daughter, Amber. She’s resting on the cushion placed in the crook of my arm. She’s four. My body sways in the chair as my muscles relax. The baby in my belly kicks me and I chuckle. Mike turns his face to me and raises his eyebrows. I see a few greys in his hair shine like silver threads.

  “Your son is very naughty,” I say and stroke my belly.

  “Boys should be naughty.” A grin crosses his face as his eyes gleam with joy and he sits on the step.

  I love this veranda. It offers a view over the clubhouse and the woods. It makes me feel like I’ve gone back in time.


  Amber jerks her little hands up and drops off to sleep. I sink deeper into the chair as my thoughts float to my sister, Cindy. It’s over—the nightmare that’s stretched over the generations, but a grey wisp will remain in my hair forever. A remainder that my sister was kidnapped by the Voronin Bratva.

  So many years of bloodshed and anger and fear. So many years of living in hiding.

  We’re finally free.

  Cindy and Luka ended the blood feud between two Bratva families.

  My grandpa, Dimitri, started it.

  He was eighteen.

  He was in love.

  He was unstoppable.

  Samael, they called him.

  He really was like a fallen angel with his punishing machete.

  “What are you thinking about, Daisy?” Mike asks.

  “About Cindy and Luka and Dimitri.”

  Mike inhales his e-cig. “Luka is a decent man, but I’ll feel better when Yegor dies.”

  “Me too.”

  Luka is on our side, but Yegor will be our friend as long as we are useful to him.

  Chaviva will launder his money.

  Dimitri will store his guns in Spain.

  I sigh.

  Will my children be outlaws like us?

  Will they love or hate their origins?

  I am who I am.

  My family is not perfect, but we’re like a pack of wolves—we’ll be a pack forever.

  Is this my choice to love this life or is there no choice but accept this life?

  We buried Kolya.

  We buried Mac and Wendy.

  We buried Shay.

  Is this life worth living?

  It is.

  It is as hell.

  And it isn’t sometimes.

  I see Sol emerge from behind the corner of the clubhouse, Asher is riding a bike in front of her, Britt is clinging to her leg and Cotton is resting against her chest. My soul beams at the sight of her. Sol picks up the pace and stops in front of Mike. She gives him Cotton then brings Britt closer and sits her beside him.

  My God. She looks like she’s been living in the post apocalyptic world—her hair is a mess and her clothes are even worse.

  “Asher,” she says in a sharp voice. “Come here.” She nods at Mike several times. “I need a break.” It comes out as a desperate plea. “I really need a break. I’ll pick them up in two, three hours.”

  Mike opens his mouth to protest, but Sol walks off at a fast pace. She doesn’t look back.

  “Have you seen this?” Mike pulls Cotton to his chest and grabs Britt’s hand. “She’s just left them like I’m her childminder.”

  “She’s tired,” I say. “Gunner Junior is in Chaviva and she’s never been much organised. You know her. She’s a total mess without Gunner Junior.”

  “Good he decided to take her with all the mess and her mouthy attitude.”

  “Gunner can handle her.”

  Mike strokes the kids’ heads. “We should build a kindergarten and run it.”

  I chuckle. “That’s not such a bad idea. I love kids. You love kids. Let’s do it.”

  “Les do zit,” Britt mimics me.

  “Alright,” Mike says. “Let’s do it. All the women here will pray to us like we’re some gods when we let them know about our idea.”

  “Not too soft as for the big scary biker you are?”

  “Kids are fun. I want to have fun in life.” His eyes wander off to somewhere in the distance. “I don’t care about others’ opinions. I’m old. I want to have a lot of fun in life.”

  “We’re gonna have a lot of fun together, Mike.”

  I know this is partly because of the guilt he carries in his heart. Every young child is little Rebel to him. He’s good and patient with all the kids now. He’s a wonderful dad for Amber. He is building something solid and good with Rebel.

  Mike

  Daisy is in bed and I’m seated in the chair in the kitchen.

  I spread the letter from Thunder on the table and start reading.

  Mike,

  If you’re reading this letter, then I’m dead.

  I love you brother, but I love my wife and kid more. Even a biker may want a family and I want mine more than anything.

  This was Lizzie’s wish to keep the truth about Rebel secret. I love my wife so I’ve kept it secret for all these years.

  Watch over our boy,

  Thunder.

  My glance meets Rebel’s. “You knew. For all these years.”

  “I heard my parents talk about it once. They thought I was asleep and I wasn’t.”

  I pat his shoulder. “I wish I could go back in time.”

  “No, they were my parents. They made me the man I am now.”

  I nod. “Thunder was proud of you and so am I.”

  His eyes blaze and he nods several times. “I…”

  “Spit it out.”

  “I want to put a claim on Star, Prez.”

  “I bet you do.”

  “I have some savings in my bank account so I can buy a small house for us. I can provide for her.”

  “You also need to talk to Athena. Star needs proper care.”

  “I know.”

  “Take Star and go visit Zane and the others.” I put my hand on the back of his neck and pull him to me. “Take Star as yours to the chapter. From now on, she’s your old lady and your responsibility.”

  “I’ll take care of her out the best I can,” he rasps.

  “You’d better.” I sense his impatience to run upstairs and abduct Star out of her bed. “Tomorrow. Go to your place now, but tomorrow she’s all yours.” I’ll bet he’ll stay outside my house and wait for the sun to rise. “Go.”

  “Thank you, Dad. Thank you for everything.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I should thank you. Thank you for being my son.”

  We shake hands and he walks off.

  ***

  Thank you for reading my book.

  Planned Books:

  Rebel: Devil’s Tears MC Book 3

  Tyler: Devil’s Tears MC Book 4

  Samael: A Dark Romance

  Athena: Shadow Wolves MC

  Check out my other books:

  The Shadow Wolves MC series (Sive, Brianna, Munroe and Stanka)

  The Shadow Immortals MC series (Rive, Talia, Adva)

  REBEL

  (Subject to change)

  By

  Daniela Jackson

  Devil’s Tears MC Book 3

  Chapter 1

  Star

  The smoke is so dense I can’t see anything. The thick grey streaks laced with a nauseating odour invade my nostrils, go down my chest, and make my lungs hurt. I cough as shouts and gunshots deafen me. Then it’s quiet like I’m in the eye of a hurricane. Dad sometimes reads me books about hurricanes so I know what that is.

  I’m scared. So scared that I can’t move. My auntie’s body is lying on the grass at my feet. She’s dead. Those men who have attacked us killed her ten minutes ago. Shot her dead. One of them had hurt her before putting a bullet into her chest.

  A strong hand clasps mine as my eyes rise towards the boy beside me. It’s Rebel. He’s fourteen and I’m almost twelve. A gun swings in his other hand as his fingers lace with mine, and he squeezes my hand to the point of pain. I’m not scared anymore.

  “Everything’s gonna be alright,” Rebel says and raises the gun, pulling the trigger.

  The loud sound like a crash of thunder tears through the air and a male’s groan follows. A massive dark figure falls down to the ground four steps away from us.

  Rebel pulls me behind him as we move towards one of the static caravans. He picks up the pace and I have to run.

  Rebel lowers and crawls under the caravan, yanking me behind him. We find shelter in the corner where flower urns and concrete slabs obscure us.

  “Did you kill that man?” I whisper.

  “I hope so,” Rebel says and pulls me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.

  I shiver in his
embrace, curl into his chest and wait for the hell to end.

  Rebel is my shelter, my safety, my salvation. My everything.

  A few hours later, the hell ends.

  We crawl out and straighten as Rebel squeezes my hand in his.

  My dad’s club brothers have killed all the attackers, but there are many bodies to bury, ours and theirs.

  The war is over.

  I see my dad talking to a man who looks like a giant werewolf. They slap each other on the back and hug. I know that werewolf. His name is Mike. He once was nice to me.

  Rebel clenches his jaw as he glances at the werewolf. I think he doesn’t like him, but I don’t know why. Rebel doesn’t like fairies, but I love them very much, so maybe werewolves are not his favourite species either.

  I wish I could live in my books where my favourite fairies live. I’d take Rebel there and we’d be happy there. One day, I’d marry him there and we’d live forever.

  I see Lizzie, Rebel’s mom, running towards us and she buries us in her embrace. She starts crying hysterically as her tears moisten my hair.

  Rebel growls with fury, as his mom smothers us with her kisses. Then I see Thunder, Rebel’s dad.

  “Lizzie, sweetheart, it’s over,” Thunder says.

  “It will never be over,” she says in a wry voice. “It’s never over for the people like us.”

  Straniera

  (Excerpt-subject to change)

  Scarlet Empires Book 1

  Chapter 1

  Alyssa

  My eyes sting as I stare at the three moons so enormous and so close to me that I feel like an ant. They shine white gold with a brown tinge around their craters—like a breathtaking menace against the dark orange expanse of the sky with a full moon and two crescents. It’s as light as a summer evening.

  I’m dreaming. I’m certain I am. Yet I feel the sand beneath my naked feet burning my skin. The hot air scented with herbs is burning my lungs.

  Panic races through my heart and it threatens to break out of my rib cage.

  I woke up about two minutes ago. I’d been lying on the sand. The heat of it had woken me.

  The pain from my feet urges me to move. I rise on my tiptoes.

  “God, help me wake up,” I shriek.

  My throat feels dry. My eyes feel dry.

  I’m a flower drying out, dying, except I’m a student.

  I studied family law last night and I went to bed around midnight as usual.