by Jenika Snow
OWNED BY THE BASTARD
Sam Crescent and Jenika Snow
www.SamCrescent.wordpress.com
[email protected]
www.JenikaSnow.com
[email protected]
Published by Sam Crescent and Jenika Snow
Copyright © January 2014 by Sam Crescent and Jenika Snow
Kindle Edition
First E-book Publication: January 2014
Edited by Kasi Alexander
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.
Demon, the President of The Soldiers of Wrath MC, is a vicious bastard, a heartless killer, and has no regrets about any of the violent things he does in life. It is how he survives, and how he keeps his club and his men safe.
Deanna Monte has stayed in the life of her drug addicted, low-life father since her mother passed away. She may hate her dad, but after her mother’s dying wish for Deanna to not give up on him, she knows she can’t walk away.
When Deanna is given to Demon as payment for her father’s debt, she fights with everything inside of her and refuses to submit. But she’s never met a man like Demon, a cruel man that is big and powerful and can take her life as easily as he breathes. She shouldn’t want him the way she does, not after he takes her away from her life, refusing to let her go, and tells her that she is his now.
But she does, and that frightens her most of all.
Sam – I want to say a big thank you to, Jenika Snow. She has been totally amazing. I love working with her and I hope this is the first book of many to look forward to in this series. Thank you, Jenika, and thank you to the Crescent Snow street team for their continued support of both of our work.
Jenika – A big thank you to all the readers and their continued support! I want to thank Sam for going on this writing journey with me, and I look forward to creating more characters and worlds with her.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Blurb
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Connect with the Authors
“What the fuck, man?” Shakes said and took a hit off the joint he was smoking. “He actually wants to trade his daughter for the fucking debt he owes us?” He shook his head, disgust on his face.
“He’s a desperate motherfucker, that’s for damn sure,” Joker said, and grabbed the joint that Shakes handed him. He took a hit off the roach, stared at all of them, and then exhaled. The backroom they were in was in the Soldiers of Wrath clubhouse, and currently filled with marijuana smoke, smelling of the green, and holding club members that were pissed that a father would trade his only daughter for a clean slate with the MC. “You want a hit, prez?” Joker asked.
Demon leaned forward, the leather chair he was in creaking from his weight. He took the joint, puffed off the end, and took in as much of the sweet smoke as he could. To calm down he usually liked a little something stronger. Although cocaine was a stimulant, it seemed to have the opposite effect on Demon. He calmed the fuck down with it, let the flow of pleasure hum through his body, and it was what he was itchin’ for right now after he had gotten word about the trade. He finished off the smoke, snubbed it out in the already overflowing ashtray, and leaned back in his seat. He looked around the table at his men, the members that would lay down their lives for him and this club. He’d do the same for them in a heartbeat, because that was what a brotherhood was all about.
“What do you want me to tell him?” Joker, his VP, said from beside him.
Demon looked at his other men. Joker sat to his left and his Sergeant-at-Arms, Dark, sat to his right. There were Striker, Weasel, and Nerd that stared at him, waiting for the answer on how to proceed. And then Shakes and Steel wore hard looks of concentration on their faces. These men had been with him from the very beginning, had death in their eyes, hatred and loyalty in their blood, and right now they were wanting to go and kick that father’s ass for even wanting to sell his daughter to them. Although Demon wasn’t a good man, not by any stretch of the imagination, he also didn’t give a fuck on how someone paid off their debt.
Maybe he should have given two fucks that the lowlife piece of shit junkie wanted to give an outlaw biker gang his twenty-something-year-old little girl. But he didn’t. In fact, he was a sick bastard because he wanted her. He had seen the pictures of the busty little redhead. She had a pair of big fucking tits, ones that would be overflowing in his hands when he grabbed them. Her ass was nice and round, big and just the right amount of meat on it that the thing would shake like a warm bowl of Jell-O when he was fucking her good and raw. And her hips, fuck, her hips were wide as hell, and perfect for when he held her as she bounced on his dick. He shifted in his seat, his cock getting hard at the thoughts and images moving through his head.
He looked down at the table, at where the picture of the daughter was. Her face was one that could make a sane and practical man go on a killing spree just to get her attention. But Demon was already a dangerous man, had killed plenty already, and would just have to get her attention in other ways. He thought about the things he could do to her, could show her. He’d pull out his big dick, let her see what he’d be plowing into her sooner rather than later.
“Yo, Demon, you with us here?” Steel asked, clearly trying to get his attention because he was sitting here thinking about fucking a woman that would be in their compound against her will.
He looked at his club members again, cleared his throat, and pushed the picture of the woman away. “Do it. Make the deal, and bring her here.”
Deanna pulled her piece of shit Toyota into her father’s driveway. The underside of her car scraped on the pavement, and she grimaced. Her father’s place was a small two-person home in a cracked-out part of town. She was afraid to come here, even when it was broad daylight—like it was now—because there were usually hookers on the street corner, and drug dealers patrolling the streets in their cars. She reached into her bag, felt the small .38 Special her mother had given her before she died, and sighed.
Yes, her mom had handed her a gun on her deathbed, told her to keep it close, and to knock a fucker down if he even came sniffing around her. Deanna chuckled at the memory, but on the heels of that happiness the sorrow had come crashing in. It had only been a couple of years since her mother died of leukemia, and although she had fought hard to survive, in the end she had lost her battle.
Deanna stared at the front door of her father’s place. God, she really didn’t want to go in there, bu
t she hadn’t been able to get ahold of him for three days. Yes, her dad was a junkie, a drug addict, and a crack head. Whatever someone wanted to call another person hooked on drugs, that was her father to the nth degree. He disgusted her, infuriated her, and she shouldn’t even care what he did with his life. He hadn’t been there for her mother when she was sick for all those years, hadn’t given two shits about them or sent money to help with medical bills, and he hadn’t even gone to the funeral. Deanna had hated him for so long. But when her mother had told her that being angry wasn’t the answer, that her father was sick and needed family, Deanna put away all of her hatred. She had tried to get her father into rehab, only to see him relapse over and over again. But she hadn’t given up, not because she loved her father, but because her mother had asked her to be there for him.
The truth was she hated him, despised everything that he was, but being there for him had been her mom’s dying wish, and so she was seeing it through to the very bitter end.
She climbed out of the car, glanced around the street, and saw a woman standing on the corner in fishnets, a black pleather mini skirt, and a cropped shirt. Deanna moved quickly toward the door, knocked on it once when she reached it, and looked behind her again. The sound of what had to be a gunshot echoed, and she grabbed the door handle and turned it. Fuck this and waiting for him to get his druggie ass up.
Once inside, she shut the door and wrinkled her nose. It stunk like a warm, humid armpit, and didn’t look any better. Trash littered the ground, graffiti marred the walls, and the sound of someone coughing in the next room had her turning and walking toward the noise. The living room was a mess of ratty, holed-up couches, stained covered drapes, garbage and hypodermic needles on the ground. And there was her dad, passed out on the couch with a middle-aged naked woman on his lap. They were both sleeping with their mouths hanging open, and the stench of piss and body odor lingered in the air.
“Dad?” she called out to him. The woman stirred slightly, but her father only gave a loud snore in response. He shifted on the couch, slowly cracked open an eye, and then pushed himself up, groaning.
“Hey there. Didn’t hear you.” He pushed the naked woman off of him. She fell to the ground with a thump, but didn’t make so much as a sound.
“I’ve been calling you.”
He stood, grabbed his cell off the coffee table, and looked at it. “Oh, yeah. You’ve called me a few times.”
“Try for the last three days. I know you don’t care about your life, and I shouldn’t really either, but I made a promise to Mom. The least you can do is pick up the phone.”
He was busy typing something out on his phone, glancing up at her every few seconds, and then closed the phone shut. He set it back on the coffee table, very slowly, too slowly for her liking, and stared at her. She looked around the hovel again, knew that he was still high or he’d be tweaking more than usual, and lifted her hand to rub her eyes. She was so tired of this shit. Deanna needed to wash her hands of him, because all he was doing was bringing her down.
He picked up his glass pipe, put some white crystals in the bowl, and then lifted it to his mouth. She turned away disgusted after he heated the end of the pipe with a lighter. Here he was, smoking meth right in front of her like it wasn’t anything, like she wasn’t his daughter and standing here watching.
“You’re doing good?” he asked in a tight voice as he held in the toxic smoke.
“What’s wrong with you? Aside from the obvious,” Deanna said, knowing he was acting stranger than usual.
“Nothing now.” He exhaled the smoke, set his pipe down, and sat back on the couch. “You want something to eat or drink?”
Deanna didn’t even bother responding because there wasn’t any food or anything sanitary to consume in this shithole.
The sound of motorcycles in the distance, coming closer, becoming louder, had her moving toward the dirty, cloudy window. She saw three massive Harleys pull into her dad’s driveway, blocking in her crappy car, and then cutting the engines. “You expecting three big ass bikers?” she asked without turning around. The men climbed off their bikes, removed their sunglasses in unison, and she swore the one in front stared right at her. They moved forward in sure, arrogant, and deadly steps, and something inside of her went on alert. She moved away from the window, turned and faced her father, and saw him pacing.
“I’m sorry, Deanna. I had to tell them you were here, had to do this to get myself out of this mess. It was the only way, and they said they’d take a trade.”
A trade?
Deanna didn’t know what he was rambling on about, but when there was a loud banging on the front door, everything inside of her stilled. She knew she needed to run, and she needed to do it now.
Demon banged on the door, waiting for it to be answered. He didn’t like the response he felt at seeing the bastard father’s text. The name of the man was unnecessary to him. Once they took the daughter, this bastard would cease to matter, as they would no longer be doing business with the fucker. This one and only debt would be paid out in flesh, his daughter’s flesh. The very thought made him sick to his stomach. He was going to stay back at the clubhouse instead of coming on this long journey to claim a woman that wasn’t his. Then he thought of the other brothers getting hard for her. He wasn’t risking her being passed between the brothers. They were a horny lot of men without a woman for a few hours. Deanna wouldn’t survive two minutes without one of the bastards trying to get between her creamy thighs.
You want first pick.
There was also the fact he wanted her before anyone else did. Demon liked to test out all the new women in the club. He rarely let anyone get past him, least of all fresh meat. That’s what Deanna would be to the Soldiers of Wrath, fresh meat. From the way she looked he doubted she’d be a virgin. She’d probably already had plenty of dick in that sweet pussy of hers.
“I wonder what’s taking him so long,” Shakes said, smiling.
“Bitch is probably loading up on our shit.” This came from Joker.
Shakes and Joker had joined him for the ride to collect their payment. Admittedly, taking a woman as payment wasn’t something he was used to. The women he took were always willing.
One look from Deanna and she’d be begging for all of them. Demon was confident in getting a woman into his bed. He had a big dick and knew how to use it. No woman left him unsatisfied. All of the club whores went out of their way to please him. Demon loved being able to snap his fingers and to have pussy on tap. Being the president of one of the biggest MCs gave him free access to it all.
Reaching out, he banged on the door, only to come up short when the redhead in question opened up.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
Her voice was small and he heard the wobble in it. Demon instantly didn’t like the nerves he was seeing inside her.
Cut that shit out.
It wouldn’t do him good to care about her. She was payment for services, nothing else.
Pushing past, he made sure to brush his body against hers. Her tits were large, fleshy, and he wanted to touch them, suck on them. His dick went into overdrive at the thought of getting her naked and fucking her.
Soon.
“Boys,” her father said, smiling at them.
There was a half-naked woman on the floor by the sofa. Demon turned his nose up at the state of the apartment and the smell. The scent of decay, sex, desperation, and fear clung in the air.
Glancing back at Deanna who still stood by the open door, he knew the fear came from her. She kept her gaze outside on her car. They’d trapped her vehicle in on purpose. There was no way she was getting out unless they allowed her out of their sight.
“Demon, take a seat. It’s good doing business with you.”
The father moved a little closer. Putting his hand in the man’s face, he pushed him off. “I’m not here to do business. I’m here to take what is mine.” He’d not gotten to be president of the Soldiers of Wrath by being nice
. Demon was hard, cold, and lethal. No one saw any other side of him.
He didn’t look away from Deanna, who still hadn’t looked at him. She was going to be his no matter what.
Could she get to her car, run the motorcycles out of the way, and be home before the three angry-looking bikers even noticed she was gone? Deanna kept looking at her old car, wishing she could see any sign of escape. There wasn’t any escape from this. The three men were scary, large, and could tear them all apart if they chose to.
Her mouth ran dry as she turned to face the room. Standing from the outside staring in, her father looked like a small bug that needed to be squashed. If she could, she’d take him out. Her mother was wrong all along. She shouldn’t be here trying to protect and care for her father. The only thing the man cared about was himself. The way he looked at all the men with this greedy look in his eye let her know shit was going down. It was things she didn’t want to know about.
Deanna stayed by the door, refusing to get involved in anything relating to her father.
He’s not your father. He’s a fucking monster.
Crossing her arms underneath her chest, she surveyed the room. The woman sleeping with her father was still passed out, which was starting to concern her. No woman should be able to sleep through all the crap going on around her. The man with the leather jacket marking him as president of the Soldiers of Wrath kept staring at her. His gaze scared her the most. He wouldn’t look away even as he spoke to her father. The show of disrespect wasn’t lost on her.
“You’re not getting any more shit. You can’t even pay like a real man.”
“But we’ve got a deal. You’ll take her, and I’ll be debt free?”
She tuned into what her father was saying, and frowned. Take who? The woman on the floor?
Something turned in the pit of her stomach. Whatever was going on wasn’t going to end well for her. Staring at all three men, she knew, part of her knew, they were here for her.