by Khloe Wren
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Books by Khloe Wren
Acknowledgements
Biography
Dedication
Charon:
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
INKING EAGLE
CHASING TAZ
Charon MC
Book 3
KHLOE WREN
ISBN: 978-0-9876275-3-7
Copyright © Khloe Wren 2017
Cover Credits:
Models: Stefen Northfield
Photographer: Jules Godfrey Photography
Digital Artist: Winter Bayne
Editing Credits:
Editor: Carolyn Depew of Write Right
Proofreader: Christine Halls
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, please delete and purchase it legally. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
BOOKS BY KHLOE WREN
Charon MC:
Inking Eagle
Fighting Mac
Chasing Taz
Fire and Snow:
Guardian’s Heart
Noble Guardian
Guardian’s Shadow
Fierce Guardian
Necessary Alpha
Dragon Warriors:
Enchanting Eilagh
Binding Becky
Claiming Carina
Seducing Skye
Believing Binda
Jaguar Secrets:
Jaguar Secrets
FireStarter
Other Titles:
Fireworks
Tigers Are Forever
Bad Alpha Anthology
Scarred Perfection
Scandals: Zeck
Mirror Image Seduction
Deception
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
AS ALWAYS, I HAVE TO give a massive shout out to my wonderfully patient husband. Who continues to put up with his insane author wife. And to my girls, as once again this book saw me locked away in my writing cave more often than not.
I couldn’t have written this book without several people who patiently answered all my many questions about Marine and MC life. Heath, Dawn, Erin, Diana and Shannon (I’m sure there were more and I’m sorry if I missed you by name) I can’t thank you enough for all your help. Especially Heath. To Maggie and Liz, thank you for sharing all your nursing knowledge.
To the Night Writers Facebook group. Without you guys and our sprints, this book would still be half written I’m sure!
To my Facebook street team, Khloe’s Kickass Bikers, Beasties and Babes, thank you for your support and help with the baby names! Jennifer Jaques suggested Raven and Miranda suggested Cleo, which I loved so much I changed Mac and Zara’s baby from a boy to a girl so I could use it! And Lisa Williams suggested Cutler, which I ended up using for a town name. Thanks ladies!
To all my friends who helped me get back up each time I stumbled while writing this book. Liz Iavorschi, Christine Ashworth, Tracie Runge, Eden Bradley and Tamsin Baker, you ladies especially.
To my editor, Carolyn, no matter what I throw at you, you always come through with a marvelous edit. I appreciate everything you do and thank you for another job well done.
To Jules Godfrey, thank you for grabbing Stefan at that wedding and snapping some shots! He’s perfect for Taz. And to Stefan Northfield, thank you for posing for Jules and agreeing to be on my cover.
Due to me rushing to make deadline once again, my poor beta team missed out with this one! Sorry, ladies!
xo
Khloe Wren
BIOGRAPHY
KHLOE WREN GREW UP IN the Adelaide Hills before her parents moved the family to country South Australia when she was a teen. A few years later, Khloe moved to Melbourne which was where she got her first taste of big city living.
After a few years living in the big city, she missed the fresh air and space of country living so returned to rural South Australia. Khloe currently lives in the Murraylands with her incredibly patient husband, two strong willed young daughters, an energetic dog and two curious cats.
As a child Khloe often had temporary tattoos all over her arms. When she got her first job at 19, she was at the local tattooist in the blink of an eye to get her first real tattoo. Khloe now has four, two taking up much of her back.
While Khloe doesn’t ride a bike herself, she loves riding pillion behind her husband on the rare occasion they get to go out without their daughters.
DEDICATION
To Carolyn,
Thank you for all your support and encouragement.
CHARON:
Char·on ˈsher-ən, ˈker-ən, -än
In Greek mythology, the Charon is the ferryman who takes the dead across either the river Styx or Acheron, depending on whether the soul’s destination is the Elysian Fields or Hades.
PROLOGUE
Flick
The day started out just like any other. I’d finished my last assignment yesterday and today I was due to receive my next one. Yep, everything was completely normal and boring, until I opened the folder in front of me and saw those names. A shiver ran down my spine as I re-read them.
Donovan ‘Taz’ Lee
Jacob ‘Mac’ Miller
Colt ‘Eagle’ Benally
It had been about three years since I’d first seen those names. Closing the file, I shifted my focus onto my supervisor, Greg Cave, who was sitting opposite me and watching me like he was waiting for me to explode or something. I was finding it hard to believe he was the one asking me to investigate these three men, considering he was the one who’d stopped me from chasing them down when I’d first joined the FBI.
“Greg, did you mix up this assignment with another one or something? Because you can’t be serious.”
With a raised eyebrow, my boss and the director of the FBI headquarters here in Dallas, dared me to continue.
“You do remember who these three men are to me, right?”
After a minute of silence that made me more than a little nervous, not that I showed it, he finally answered me.
“I haven’t forgotten. I actually thought you’d be excited to be put on this assignment. Finally, you’ll get your chance to talk with these men.”
Since I’d only just been handed the file, I obviously hadn’t had a chance to read it and didn’t know what the assignment would require, as Greg was well aware. But it was rare that I actually got to talk to many people when I went out
in the field. As a forensic accountant, I was normally part of a team and my job was in the background, working with computers or ledgers.
“Talk to? What exactly does this assignment entail?”
“Eighteen months ago Lee, Miller and Benally were approached to take on a job for us. They accepted, and joined the Charon MC in Bridgewater, Texas, where they were supposed to report back to us with information about what the club was doing. As far as motorcycle clubs go, the Charons are pretty clean. Well, they actually look a little too clean, which is why we wanted a man or two inside.”
Nothing about that sounded out of the ordinary. Former military men were often recruited for specific assignments.
“So what’s gone wrong?”
Greg screwed up his face, as though he’d eaten something rotten and couldn’t get the taste out of his mouth. “They were given an unsuitable handler. As a result, we’ve lost Miller and Benally.”
I tilted my head. Was I reading this right? “Their handler was dirty?”
Greg cleared his throat, which was basically an answer in itself. Unfortunately, it wasn’t unheard of for agents to leak information, or take bribes. The Bureau did what it could to get rid of those they found, but there were always more. “Yes. They gave us something extremely valuable, which became useless, thanks to him. Once the three of them found out their information had been leaked, they began ignoring their handler’s calls. It put a woman Benally cares for at risk, so he in particular became difficult after that incident. Then, he pushed Miller over another matter, and now both Miller and Benally have informed us they don’t care what we do, they will never help us again.”
“So I’m to go after Lee? And what, bring him in?”
That was the standard protocol, but clearly this situation wasn’t normal.
Greg shook his head. “That wouldn’t do us any good with the last man standing. We believe the best way to move forward with Lee is to send you in to be his partner.”
I focused on keeping my face and voice neutral, to not show my confusion or shock. “Why?”
“We’ve received intel that the Charon MC have recently become closer with the Satan’s Cowboys MC, and that the Cowboys intend to use that connection to expand their distribution channels. We need to know if, and how, that happens. We’re following the theory it will be easier to catch them doing something new, that they haven’t had time to set up fully and secure.”
“Does he know I’m coming?”
“Nope. He has no clue at all.”
Great, that was going to be just wonderful to deal with. “When do I leave, and where, exactly, am I going?”
“Tomorrow morning, and you’re heading down to Bridgewater. Pack for a long stay. You’ll find all the information you need in that folder. I know you prefer to stick with accounting work, but for this assignment you’re going to go in as a bartender.”
That part I could handle. I’d worked as one during college. In fact, I had a feeling that would be the easiest part of this assignment.
I stood up to leave and was halfway to the door when Greg called out. “Vaughn?”
“Yeah?”
“This assignment gets priority. Once you finish it, then you can ask Lee all the questions you want about your brother. But not until afterwards, understand?”
“Understood, sir.”
With that, I turned and left. What the hell would I ask anyway? “Hey Taz, I was just wondering if you could tell me what happened with Andrew Vaughn in early 2014 that got him dishonorably discharged?” Yeah, that would go over smooth as sandpaper, I was sure.
No, to find out what had caused my brother to become a completely different man, one who’d abandoned his entire family, I was going to have to be more subtle about it. And apparently, I had to wait until I finished this assignment to do it.
CHAPTER 1
Taz
I knew how this was going to end, but I couldn’t stop it. No matter what I tried, this fucking nightmare always played out the same way. Just like it had in reality.
Looking down at my sneakers, I kicked a rock off the footpath. I didn’t want to go home, so I was taking my time, just like I always did. But not too much time. We lived in a shitty part of the western suburbs of Melbourne, Australia, and if I walked too slowly, I’d become a victim to worse things than what I was going home to.
Ever since Gordon, my stepfather, lost his last job over a month ago, I never knew what I’d find when I got home after school. I wish Mum would kick his ass out. I was thirteen now, and old enough to help her out. I’d do more for her and my little sister, Grace, than that piece of shit currently did.
If only Gordon would just fuck off. I clenched my fists and released them a few times. I prayed for the day I was strong enough to successfully fight back. I’d tried. I would always at least try to keep him from hurting Mum, but so far it had only ended in me getting a beating. Still, it had saved Mum from his fists so it had been worth it. However, while I was at school I couldn’t step in front of her. Little Gracie was only three years old, so she was stuck home with the monster all day too. So far, he hadn’t laid a hand on her. If he ever did, I’d take a knife to him in his sleep. Little Gracie was an angel. So sweet, and despite the house of horrors she was living in, always had a big smile for me when I got home each day.
The faint scent of smoke made my nose itch. It was early April, which meant it was still fire ban season, but that didn’t stop people burning off rubbish whenever they bloody well felt like it. I didn’t pay much attention to it until a block later, when the smell got stronger and I looked up from the footpath to search for the origin of all the smoke. My heart stopped beating and my lungs froze for a horrible moment when I saw the pillar of dark smoke coming from our house, just over a block ahead of me.
“Fuck. MUM! GRACE!”
I was sprinting before I was aware I was moving, flying down the footpath, faster than I ever had before. I skidded as I turned onto our front lawn. The heat from the fire licking up the front wall of the house had me backpedaling.
“Donny! Stay back, son.”
Mrs. Sticks from next door was rushing over to me, reaching for my arm but I couldn’t let her get me. I had to try to get Mum and Grace out first. Shaking my head at her, I dropped my bag off my shoulders and bolted to the back of the house. Easily jumping the little fence at the side, I scrambled up the steps and wrenched open the back door. Thick smoke escaped, instantly surrounding me and making me cough and wheeze, but I wasn’t going to let it stop me.
“Mum! Grace!”
I couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the fire that had engulfed the front of the house. Mum and Gordon’s bedroom was up there, but Grace and I had rooms here in the rear of the building. Lifting the neck of my shirt up over my nose to block at least some of the smoke, I went for Grace’s room first, hoping she was in there. She was often napping at this time of day. Feeling my way through the smoke, I found my way to her bed. I could make out her body on the mattress, hoping she was just sleeping, I gave her a shake, but she wouldn’t wake up. The smoke was getting thicker and I pressed my nose against my shoulder to try to block even more of the shit so I could take a breath. Knowing I didn’t have much time, I didn’t bother trying to wake her again, but gathered her limp body against my chest and ran for the back door. I tried not to think about Mum. She had to be in the front of the house. If she’d been in the back, she would have grabbed Grace and gotten out already.
Tears stung my eyes as I bolted out the back door and carried my sister around to the front yard, where I could hear sirens. I was coughing with every breath, my lungs burned and my body shook, but I refused to drop my sweet little Gracie. No way. It took a moment to open the side gate and then I was back in the front yard. Thankfully, the fire hadn’t reached this side of the house yet, so I could still pass through. I needed to get Grace to the ambulance. They’d fix whatever was wrong. It was their job, so they had to. I refused to accept any other outcome.
&nb
sp; Mrs. Sticks was running over to me when I looked up.
“Oh, Donny, here, let me take her—”
“No. She’s mine.”
The pain that flashed in her expression didn’t affect me at all. My mind had focused solely on getting Grace to the ambulance. I couldn’t even think about anything else.
“Okay, that’s okay, lovie. You bring her over to the ambulance. You need to let them take you both to hospital, okay?”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me over to the multiple vehicles with their flashing lights.
Panting, I sat up in bed, the blue and red flashing lights filling my vision for a few more seconds. Fuck. I hated that nightmare. Hated even more the fact it wasn’t really a dream, but a memory. I scrubbed my palms over my face as my heart continued to thunder in my chest. No way would I be getting any more sleep tonight. I looked at the clock beside my bed and groaned. Two in the fucking morning. I’d only been asleep for an hour. With a growl, I laid back down. I needed to at least try to get some more shut-eye. I had shit to do today that required more than one fucking hour of sleep.
Ten minutes later, I growled and reached for the stereo remote. AC/DC Thunderstruck came on, filling the silence, helping to banish the memories as I rolled out of bed and strode over to my en suite bathroom.
I had no idea why I’d let my two best friends, Mac and Eagle, talk me into buying this place and moving out of the clubhouse. There was always noise and some chaos at the Charon MC clubhouse, and that was how I liked it. Silence was deafening and I hated it. When the world was quiet around you, it left your mind free to think, to roll back into your history and fuck you up. At least that’s what mine did to me, which sucked. Because there was nothing you could do about the past. It was done and set in stone, leaving behind those that survived to try and deal with it. It was bad enough the shit invaded my sleep, I didn’t need it messing up my days, too.
Rolling my neck, I stood under the spray of the shower, letting the warm water wash away the last traces of sleep and the memories of the nightmare that had sent my life on a downhill slide. Soaping up my palms, I began the task of washing myself by running my hands over all the various tattoos that covered my arms. The flowers and monsters I’d had etched into my skin over the years. I didn’t look as I ran my palms over my chest. The webs and skulls, along with the names that I’d had inked across my pecs, were things I did my best never to look at. Some days I wondered why I’d ever been fucking stupid enough to get the names inked on me in the first place, but then I’d remember something good. A sweet moment between the three of us and I knew why. My mother and baby sister deserved to be remembered for who they were when they’d lived, not how their lives had been so brutally cut short.