Reign Over Me (The Covenant Book 1)

by Gwendolyn Casey

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 Gwendolyn Casey

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-153-3

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For Brody. This had not been possible until you came into the world.

  REIGN OVER ME

  The Covenant, 1

  Gwendolyn Casey

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  Isabel

  I stared through the chain-link fence, unsure what to do next. There wasn’t a sign, but I could tell this was the place. There were at least a dozen motorcycles sitting on the other side of the gate along with some muscle cars. The cab had already left, apparently too scared to hang around the Aces MC clubhouse until I made it inside.

  How am I supposed to do this? I thought.

  I mean, how could I walk into a motorcycle club without getting shoved straight back out? Maybe they won’t even bother with a shove …maybe they will just shoot me at the door.

  I looked down at my Express tank top, Gap jeans, and Coach sneakers. I was the furthest thing from a rebel. In fact, my total knowledge of biker clubs came from Sons of Anarchy, and I’d only caught a couple episodes. I was definitely adding it to my Netflix queue when I got home.

  If I ever go home.

  The thought made me so tired and depressed that I wanted to curl up on the gravel and cry.

  The sun had set a few hours ago, but the buildings beyond the fence had floodlights illuminating the area. I could make out three separate structures. There were two big warehouses, one sitting in front of the other, and a smaller building off to the side with four garage doors. I could see a sign on that one that read Aces Auto and Repair.

  Just then, I watched a door open on the first warehouse, and a man came out. He stood just outside the door and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

  “Hey,” I yelled.

  He turned his head to look at me but didn’t move. At first, I thought he was going to ignore me. It was only after lighting his cigarette that he started crossing the fifty feet to the gate.

  “No more tonight, darling. Find somewhere else to party,” he said when he reached the fence. He was really skinny and tall, but kind of cute with shaggy auburn hair and a pretty-boy face. Seeing how he was trying to grow a beard with little success, he was probably around my age.

  “I need to speak to the president of the Aces MC, please,” I said.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

  “Well, I can’t tell you all the details, but it had to do with my uncle. He said I should come here. He said you can protect me.”

  He took the cigarette out of his mouth, and his lips settled into a grim line as smoke escaped through his nostrils.

  When he continued to stare at me, I tried again. “Listen, I know that you can’t exactly trust a random stranger. You can pat me down and check my bag … but I promise you that I don’t have any hidden weapons and I don’t intend any harm toward your club."

  He scratched his chin, still looking skeptical, so I added in my best timid voice, "Please.”

  He let out a loud breath while he reached for the chain to open the gate. He gave me a guarded look but still took my suitcase so I didn’t have to drag it across the gravel.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  As we walked to the building, I noticed that the black leather vest over his t-shirt had patches sown on the back stating “ACES MC SOUTH DAKOTA” on the top and “PROSPECT” on the bottom. He opened the door and brought me into a long white hallway.

  “Wait here,” he said and went down the hallway until he reached a doorway on the right. Surprisingly, the place looked very sterile. The walls were white along with the linoleum, and the bright fluorescent lights gave it an asylum-feel.

  However, I did hear music coming from somewhere. Sounded like ACDC’s “If You Want Blood”.

  “Come on,” Skinny-guy barked from down the hall. I tried to be casual as I walked toward him, but I was so nervous that I ended up speed walking. Before I reached the door, he stopped me. “I’ll have to take you up on that pat down,” he said with a grin and took my purse off my shoulder.

  I held my arms up without him asking, just like at the airport. He knelt to check both my legs and then did a quick pass over my backside. He went behind me and checked my sides and chest. I blushed as he quickly cupped my breasts.

  “I won’t pretend I’m not enjoying this,” he said by my ear, his voice a little deeper than before.

  I laughed, trying to stay cool, but I could feel the fire in my cheeks. He came back around to my front then motioned for me to follow him until we were in front of the door he went into earlier.

  An older man stood behind a desk as I entered the office. He looked a bit rough with tattoos on both forearms and a weathered leather vest that covered his black dress shirt. However, he had a friendly and handsome face with subtle blue eyes.

  “I’m Greyson Carpenter, president of the Aces MC,” he said, holding a hand to me with a small smile.

  His professional and polite greeting made me feel a little more relaxed, like this was a business meeting instead of a plea for help.

  “Hello, Mr. Carpenter.” I took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “My name is Isabel Rochester. Thank you so much for seeing me at this late hour.” I noticed that his leather vest looked a lot older compared to the one the kid was wearing and it had more patches. On one side of his chest, it read “GREYSON” with another patch beneath it that read “PRESIDENT”.

  “You’re welcome, please sit.” He gestured to the seat in front of his desk, and, as I sat down, I took in the rest of his office. It looked like any manager’s office with filing cabinets and stacks of paper. The only exception was the wall behind the desk. It held a large flag with the Aces MC emblem of four playing cards, all aces, with bullet holes through the center of each. Then pictures of bikes, family, and other members of the club surrounded it.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure, Ms. Rochester?” he asked as he took his seat.

  I quickly glanced over my shoulder at the skinny kid, a little nervous to speak in front of him. “Well, I need your help. I was sent here by my uncle Lionel, who—”

  Greyson held up a hand. “Your uncle is Lionel Rochester?”

  “Yes,” I responded warily, unsure if it was a good or bad thing that he knew my uncle.

  He motioned to the kid. “Go find Rem and get him in here.”

  The younger man moved away from the door but looked uncertain. “Uh, what if he is busy?”

  “Then interrupt him,” Greyson said through gritted teeth. After the boy left, Greyson’s polite smile returned, and he said, “Just a few minutes and we can continue. Are you in school?”

  We made small talk about the University of Iowa and my plans to become an accountant when we heard grumbling coming down the hall. “God damn it. This better be good. I was just about to nut before—”

  The man stopped talking abruptly as he came into the office, and our eyes met. My breath stopped as I felt a change in the air. He was so handsome…

  No, that’s not right … rugged … virile …
drool-worthy. So many adjectives.

  His face didn’t show any surprise at my presence, but his relaxed features suddenly became cool, as if he was putting on a mask. I watched his eyes wander over my face and body then back again to meet my gaze. I could feel the blush spreading to my chest all of a sudden as his eyes said everything and nothing.

  “Rem, shut up and close the door,” Greyson said.

  We broke eye contact, but I continued to stare at the newcomer as he crossed the room to stand behind the president. He was probably in his late twenties, but he carried himself with the confidence of a man ten years older.

  I suddenly wished that Greyson would have left this man out of it. I can’t concentrate with him in the room. The aura of danger that surrounded him made my pulse quicken, but not from fear. Instead, my body felt hot and my thighs clenched together.

  Rem held my gaze as he leaned against a filing cabinet.

  His eyes were hooded beneath straight eyebrows, and the strong angles of his cheeks made him more handsome than cute. Of course, the chiseled face matched a godlike body. However, his muscles were not the type you get from a gym. They were subtle, like the kind you get from working an active job. While his gray t-shirt and jeans fit him perfectly, I could tell he wore them for comfort and not style. Rem also wore a leather vest, but the patch on his chest read “VICE PRESIDENT”. He was probably over six feet tall. At five-foot-three, I probably looked like a hobbit to him.

  My gaze moved down to take in his untied boots, and then I noticed that his dirty blond hair was messy, too. It was just long enough for a girl to run her fingers through, and someone had been tugging on it recently. I felt the heat return to my cheeks as it dawned on me what Skinny had interrupted. I had a vision of him on top of a woman, his back muscles tightened as he thrust—

  “Continue with what you were saying, Ms. Rochester.”

  I looked at the president. “Oh, right, um.” I shook my head to try to clear it. Where to start? “It is the beginning of summer break so I came home from Iowa City this morning. When I got there I found my uncle's car in the driveway. I remember the car was pulled in at an angle, but I didn't think much of it so I just went inside.”

  It wasn’t a strange occurrence to see my Uncle Lionel at the house. He was the only family I had left after my dad. They owned a small accounting firm together, and they worked from the house from time to time.

  "When I got inside the kitchen was trashed. There were dishes, silverware, and food scattered everywhere, and the rest of the house was the same from what I saw. It was as if someone turned the house upside down and shook,” I said with a smirk. Greyson didn’t return the gesture, and I was too scared to glance at Rem so I simply continued. “While it was a huge mess, I didn't see anything was taken. The most expensive item was probably our seventy inch flat screen, and it was in pieces on the floor.”

  I looked down at my hands as I thought about that moment. It was surreal. I’d never been the victim of a crime before. Living in the suburbs of Iowa, you just don’t see a lot of violence. The only real fight I’d ever witnessed was at a little league football game between a dad and the ref. I know my dad could be a hothead sometimes, but he was an accountant. How was it possible that he made someone so mad that they ransacked our house? How did they even get in?

  The whole thing had made me feel violated and scared. I looked up to see Greyson still looking at me.

  “It’s okay. Take your time.”

  I reached my hand to my cheek and felt wetness there. “I’m sorry.” I was so embarrassed to cry in front of them. They must have thought I was a weakling.

  I sat up a little straighter. "I wasn't sure if they were still in the house so I tiptoed around. I found my uncle in the office." Lionel had looked awful. He had always been a pale and skinny man, but he’d looked ghostly. I could tell he had been sweating by the sheen under his thinning red hair. He had come over and hugged me. I remember being surprised at the display of affection. He was usually standoffish with me.

  "Before I could even ask what was going on, he was dragging me back outside to my car. He kept saying 'we made a mistake' and that I wasn't safe here. Something about being in over their head and that I could be used against them. I asked him where my dad was, but he just said that he was safe. When we got back to my car, he handed me this." I pulled out a stack of cash my uncle had given me and placed it on the desk.

  Neither one of them looked at the money. Instead they kept their gazes on me. I was sure they were tracking every movement of my face to see if I was lying.

  I continued on, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. "He said to take this and to go the Aces’ clubhouse. He told me where to find you and that I should use part of the cash to get here so I wouldn’t have to use my cards. He said I should give you this and to tell you that he'll give you twenty thousand more if you protect me until he contacts you." I let out a breath as I came to end of the story.

  I felt like my brain was ready to jump off a cliff from exhaustion. The drive to the bus station had been nothing but a haze of panic and paranoia. I had no idea who was after me, so everyone had seemed like a threat. When I’d gotten to the depot, I’d gone through my laundry and grabbed out more clothes to stuff into my suitcase before getting on the bus for South Dakota. I was lucky that all my essentials were with me since I was coming home for the summer. I’d managed to calm down once I was on the bus and could process what had happened. It was all so fast that I felt like it couldn’t be real. Every time the bus had stopped, I fought the urge to get off and go back home, as if I’d imagined it all.

  My body had succumbed to sleep as the adrenaline left my veins, and I’d woken up an hour outside of Watertown. I should have been relieved, but instead I’d felt anxious again.

  I’d never been good at meeting new people. My insecurities from childhood always managed to sneak into the back of my brain, making it hard to speak sometimes. With age and practice, I’d overcome my shyness so it had not been a hindrance to my daily life, but this situation was different. Normally, I would tell myself that they were just people like me with the same issues and insecurities. But these bikers probably didn’t worry about the same things I did.

  “Is there anything else you can remember?” Greyson said patiently.

  I suddenly remembered getting a text from my best friend Katie when I was walking up the driveway. But I shook my head. I doubted these bikers wanted to hear about our plans for a GoT marathon.

  “There isn’t anything that might give us a clue as to why he sent you here?” Greyson asked again.

  I’m not sure why but I glanced at Rem. He was still wearing his cool mask, but it was less severe.

  I bit my lip and looked at the ground, trying to remember everything Lionel said. It was all jumbled, but I know there was more. The problem was that I had been talking over him, trying to find out about Dad and then he was shoving me in my car.

  Wait. He mentioned a town?

  “He did say something about Winter Lake or Water Lake, I think. Something about a chicken farm. Does that mean anything?”

  Greyson rubbed absently at his lips and then looked at the vice president. I glanced over, and Rem was still staring at me, his eyes intense and focused. They felt like a heat lamp on my face.

  After another few moments, Greyson finally responded. “Well, unfortunately, the decision to protect you is not just up to me. By taking you in, we can be inviting retaliation or even war from another club. Your monetary offer is helpful, but it is not enough to persuade me to put my club members in danger.”

  He stood up and came around his desk, so I stood as well.

  “We were going to call a meeting of the club, and we will vote. It shouldn’t take more than an hour.”

  “I understand. I will respect whatever decision the club makes.” He went to leave the room, and then I remembered. “Um, is it all right if I wait here in the meantime?” I asked.

  “Of course, you sit tight.
I’ll send the kid in with some food.”

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Carpenter,” I said, ready to cry because he was being so nice.

  Greyson brushed past me out the door, and I turned to watch Rem follow. I gave him a tight smile, but he didn’t return it as he closed the door behind him.

  I sat down again and slumped over so my head was between my knees. I wondered where I would go if they decided to turn me away.

  Chapter Two

  Rem

  She smiled at me as I left, but I didn’t return it. There were too many questions about this girl for me to smile right now. I was not the smiling type anyway. I liked to remain stoic, especially in front of strangers. It usually came off as scary or cruel, but that was useful in my line of work. As the VP of the Aces MC, I had a reputation to uphold.

  Once in the hallway, I looked at my president.

  “What do you think?” Greyson asked, dropping the nice guy act.

  I let my gaze turn back to the door where the petite blonde sat on the other side. I found it disturbing how my entire brain stopped once I saw her. It was like a car crash, a sudden impact and then confusion.

  Maybe my brain was jacked since I was denied my happy ending with Amy a few minutes ago. I was right in that sweet spot where she had just come and was milking my dick for all she was worth. I was pounding her from behind, chasing my nut hard and fast while I fisted her hair. Then Skinny knocked. I was pissed, but the request was from Greyson, the one man I couldn’t blow off.

  My hard-on had died by the time I got to the office, but one glance at Isabel Rochester and it was raging again.

  She was beautiful, with a heart-shaped face, upturned eyes, and clear complexion. If she stood, her head would probably come to my chest, but her generous chest, small waist, and flared hips whispered to something primitive in me. Her hair was long, exactly the way I liked it, and her eyes held a sensual innocence that I was eager to explore. I could see her where Amy had been just moments before, on all fours while I gripped her hair, making her take every thick inch. Would she scream? Whimper?