Burnt: A Devil's Spawn Novel

by Natasha Thomas

  It was a conscious decision. I didn’t act on instinct. I didn’t spring into action like a super hero. I simply reacted. I saw when the look in Isabella’s eyes turned to deadly intent. When the heated kiss between Cage and Kendall was coming to its conclusion, I knew that was when she would strike. Isabella wanted everyone to know it was her that took Kendall’s life. She wanted the knowledge to be imbedded in Cage’s head as he laid it down at night, every night for the rest of his life, without Kendall. I couldn’t let that happen. It just wasn’t fair. It wasn’t something I could live with, knowing I could possibly have done something to stop it. There wasn’t a second I considered the ramifications of what I would do. I didn’t stop to think I could die. I didn’t stop to think period.

  Throwing myself in front of Kendall was in essence, a combination of luck and good timing. As the bullet ripped through my body, the fire of it was all consuming, the pain like nothing I ever imagined. The feeling of peace and understanding was a surprise though. Understanding that I stopped the devastation Kendall being shot would cause. And peace, well, peace because I knew in that minute, that if I did nothing else in my life, this decision would irrevocably be the right one.

  I remember very little after hitting the ground, my muscles protested, my legs gave way, and my blood left my body. Things, people, voices, cries became as muted as the thick fog that overtook my conscious. That’s when I realised something else, something was wrong. It isn’t supposed to happen like this. I’m supposed to have time. I’m supposed to meet someone, start a family, continue to paint, make a life for myself. I’m supposed to LIVE.

  There’s no way to stay awake. I’m getting weaker, groggier, my limbs are as heavy as my eyelids. I want to stay awake, but it doesn’t matter, I can feel the dark taking me. Hearing Nate’s voice through the chaos is like a balm to my soul. Knowing he’ll be with me when I take my last breath calms me somehow. It shouldn’t. I shouldn’t want him to be the last person I hear, smell, and see. That too is irrelevant. What shouldn’t be, is not what I want.

  I want Nate. More than, that I NEED him. My desire for Nate was never rational. Never explainable to anyone that wasn’t one of the two of us. At one time he felt the same, it saddens me he won’t feel that way for me again. There have been numerous times I’ve cursed him, sworn I will never forgive him for his indiscretion, for breaking my young heart, for making me feel desolate and alone. It’s all a lie.

  In my moment of clarity I acknowledged the one thing I’ve kept buried deep in a corner of my heart, a corner devoted solely to Nate; I have forgiven him. Almost immediately, possibly even the day he crushed me. I love him enough to unburden myself of it, to let it fly, let that piece of me free.

  Blinking up at him, I take in his strong square jaw, with the three days or so worth of stubble, his moss green eyes, and the chiselled cheek bones he wears so well. Nate’s brow is furrowed, the black hair that’s so black it’s almost blue flops into his eyes. It is a face I love. A face that will travel with me wherever I go from here. A face I’ve dreamed of every night since I left him.

  Understanding is a funny word. It’s stuck in the land of in-between. Somewhere close to acceptance, but occasionally edging towards resignation. It is what it is. There’s no changing it. There’s no miraculous way to stop it from hitting you. Understanding is what I gathered in that moment looking up at the man I love. The man I was supposed to love. The man I will die loving.

  I can vaguely recollect talking to Nate in that moment. What I say floats away on the breeze. It doesn’t remain in the here and now. I have a feeling what I utter is important, but I can’t recall it, no matter how hard I try. I don’t even know if I want to.

  Once, in a time that was filled with new opportunities, filled with possibilities, filled with a light sprinkling of hope, I told Kendall I was floating. Floating through life, I could see the living, I could see them engaging with others, I could see the enjoyment of the people below me, I just didn’t know how to reach out and grasp what they had, how to hold on to it with both hands.

  I’m still floating. Now, I’m floating in and out of a place I don’t know whether I’m permitted to stay in. It isn’t dark like some people expect. It isn’t light and love. It certainly isn’t home, I know where that is. My conscious self wants to shake me, force me to wake up. The tired, worn down, exhausted side of myself, wants me to let go, to embrace the place I’m visiting, to decide to stay for a while. Something stops me from accepting that side of my self’s invitation. The magnetic pull back to the world of the living, back to a place that feels like home is extreme.

  Again, I know this is when I need to make a choice. The simple fact is; I’m indeed being given a choice. Most aren’t. This choice will be the second most important choice I will ever make. It will be the one to lead me down a whole new fork in the road, on a new path. It’s second to the choice to save Kendall over myself, because this choice is not righteous, it’s not based on love.

  When I say everything changes based on our choices and decisions, I mean it. We can go from darkness to light at the blink of an eye. We can go from displacement to belonging in the matter of seconds. We can also go from comfort to a world of pain too.

  My name is Veronica May Stevens, and this is my decision. This is when I make my choice.

  A choice that would determine whether I landed safe on solid ground or if I remained……

  Floating.

  BONUS CONTENT

  Alexis

  I’m going to kill him, I may have considered it before, but this time, I’m actually going to do it. If I have any say in the matter, it’s going to happen slowly and painfully too.

  I mistakenly thought, since I turned nineteen last week, that Glock would have gotten over his rampant control issues by now; I thought wrong. This is the sixth guy he’s chased off in as many months, and I’m done. D.O.N.E, done. At first I thought it was sweet, in an overprotective, big brother kind of way, but that was when I was fifteen. Then it turned annoying by the age of seventeen; now, I’m fucking pissed.

  Isn’t it bad enough that I’ve got a father that believes all men within a hundred foot radius of me should be terminated on sight, a fourteen-year-old brother that’s followed in dad’s footsteps, yet is still in the process of honing his asshole-ish behaviour, too many uncles that subscribe to the, ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ mentality, and a grandpa that’s probably scarier to would-be-boyfriends than all of the above put together? You would think so, wouldn’t you? This time, you’d be wrong, not me.

  Thirty-two-years-old and he has nothing better to do than show up at my apartment as eight-o’clock at night, banging on the door like a lunatic. Honestly, this wouldn’t have been such a big deal if my date, Jeremy, hadn’t shown up five minutes after him.

  To give you some background; Glock and I have been friends since I was five-years-old. I met him when he began prospecting for Devil’s Spawn MC at the age of eighteen. I can still remember thinking that he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Through the eyes of a child, Glock, Thomas Davies; is strong, handsome, smart, and kind. Through my adolescent eyes; he is gorgeous, funny, loyal, and sweet, my adult eyes are not as kind however. Look honestly, Glock is sexy as all get out; his dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, perpetual five-o’clock shadow, eyebrow piercing, tattoos, and 210 pounds of six foot two male wouldn’t make him anything but. And, I suppose he’s got some redeeming character traits such as; dedication, loyalty, his sense of humour, the fact that he’s a hard worker, and that he is the most dependable man I’ve ever met. In the past when I’ve needed him, Glock’s been there in an instant, dropping whatever he’s doing, and coming to my rescue. The best example is; my senior prom.

  Being the daughter, granddaughter, and step-daughter of some of the highest ranking Devil’s Spawn MC members meant it was more than a little difficult to find someone willing to take me to prom. Three days beforehand, with a dress, but without a date, Glock came to the rescue, and
told me he’d be taking me. It was one of the best nights of my life, and I can openly say, I fell a little MORE in love with him that night. You heard me. I’ve been in love with Glock for so long, that I can hardly remember a time I wasn’t. This love has been years in the making, turning from a little girl loving her hero, to an adolescent crush, into the love for a man I feel now. The thirteen year age gap has always been a non-issue to me, I know the same can’t be said for him though.

  It’s not like we’ve ever discussed the possibility of there being and us, but I’m well aware the way he looks at me has changed over the last twelve months. The thing is; I’ve reached the point where, even though I can admit I love Glock, I’ve had enough. Enough of his alpha male attitude. Enough of him running off potential boyfriends when he’ll never step up to the plate, and enough of him believing that I’ll remain a cloistered nun while he fucks anything with a pulse. I’ve just had enough period.

  Turning to him where he’s reclined on my couch, motorcycle booted feet propped on my coffee table, and hands linked behind his head with that trademark smirk on his face, I scowl at him, hoping he realises that he’s in for a world of shit.

  “What in the hell are you doing here? You need to get your ass up, and get out Glock, now.”

  I watch as his nostrils flare, and he removes his hands from behind his head, fisting them at his sides instead.

  “That guy was a fucking douchebag. Where the fuck do you keeping finding these preppy losers? You’re better than that Lex.”

  How dare he.

  “You’ve got some nerve talking about douchebags Glock, when you’re the biggest asshole in the room at the moment. My love life is none of your business, now like I said, you need to get up, and leave, we’re done for tonight.”

  Striding toward the door, I’m stopped short when the Ninja; I say Ninja because the man can move so quickly and silently you’d think he WAS a Ninja in a previous life, grabs hold of my upper arm, bringing me to a halt.

  “Come on Lex, you didn’t seriously want to date that loser did you?”

  I can’t answer that, because I don’t know. I didn’t even get the chance to get to know him to know if I wanted to pursue anything with him. Facing Glock, and meeting his beautiful clear blue eyes, I say,

  “I would’ve have liked the opportunity to find out. You can’t keep doing this, Glock. You can’t show up every time I’ve got a date, and scare them off, or turn up at the restaurant, and take a seat at our table, helping yourself to my date’s beer. This shit has to stop.” I make a decision that I’m sure I’ll come to regret, but has become necessary. “If it doesn’t stop, I’m not going to be able to be friends with you anymore.”

  At that, Glock’s eyes flare dangerously, and his hand on my arm tightens. Not to the point of pain, but enough for me to know his control is slipping.

  “Lex, don’t say shit like that when you don’t mean it. You want me to say sorry, for coming in here and ruining your date, then fine, I’m sorry, but don’t make threats you won’t follow through on. You’re my best friend, and saying that shit is fucked up, Babe.”

  Shaking my head slowly, and removing my arm from his grip, I open my front door.

  “I’m not making threats, I mean it. I need to have a life, Glock, one that I get to make choices in. You don’t see me deciding who you can fuck on a Friday night, or take out on your bike for Sunday afternoon rides, I let you make your own mistakes, and that’s what I’m asking of you. I want you to let me; screw up, get my heart broken, chose who I go out with, what’s right for me. You’re my best friend too, and it’ll kill me if you won’t do this for me, but I won’t change my mind either.”

  He stares at me. He’s trying to gauge my words I know it, to see if I’m telling the truth, or whether I’m bluffing. I don’t know how much clearer I can make it for him, there’s nothing more to say. If he doesn’t back off, I will follow through with this. I have to. For me.

  “Bullshit, Lex. I’m only trying to keep you safe. You don’t know these assholes. You don’t know if they’re good guys, or if you’ll end up fucking dead in an alley somewhere, so save me the fucking drama would you. I’m only looking out for you.”

  Yeah, that’s about the response I expected. If Glock feels cornered, he digs in harder, he doesn’t back down, and regroup, he turns into a major league asshole, and digs his heels in. What I’m about to do is going to break my heart, there’s doubt about it, but I can’t see any other way to make this work.

  “Get out, Glock. And when you go, don’t call me, don’t come around, and don’t show up at work, just leave me alone. I don’t want to see you anymore, and don’t bother running to my dad over this, I’ll be telling him myself.” Dad and Glock got off to a rocky start, to say the least. Apparently, I was too young to know, Glock enjoyed having a too close look at my mom Kendall, needless to say dad isn’t a fan of men ogling Kenny, and he still isn’t. These days, dad and Glock are good friends, not as close as him and Uncle Steel, but not far from it. If he thought it’d work, Glock wouldn’t think twice about going to dad telling him I’m putting myself in danger. I intend to call my dad as soon as he leaves and circumvent the process. I have no idea what I’ll tell him yet, but I’ll think of something.

  With his hand on the doorknob, Glock turns to me piercing me with his angry gaze.

  “I’ll be here when you get over this shit, Lex, but don’t wait too long, yeah? I won’t wait forever.”

  THOMAS

  It’s a lie. A straight up, dirty fucking lie. I’d wait forever for Lex, and I have already. She doesn’t know it. My brothers don’t know it. Her dad sure as fuck doesn’t know it, and I’m not sure I realised until now, but that’s what I’ve been doing.

  Lex has been my best friend since a set of phenomenal big blue eyes blinked up at me from the swing set of the Devil’s Spawn MC clubhouse, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t talk to her, see her, text her, or think about her. I know what you’re thinking, she was five-years-old when I met her, it wasn’t like that. There’s something about Lex. The closest thing I can think of to use to describe her is; she a magnet. She draws you in, takes hold, and you’re fucked if you think you’ll ever get free; you won’t want to though.

  It wasn’t until recently that my feelings towards Lex started to change. For years I’ve looked out for her, made sure she’s taken care of, been a shoulder for her to cry on, or someone to bitch to when her dad’s too hard on her, and her brothers a pain in the ass. Not to mention, Lex was underage until thirteen months ago when she turned eighteen. It’d be another fucking lie if I said I hadn’t noticed her growing up, because I had. It’s hard NOT to notice her.

  Lex is nothing like her mom’s five foot one, petite frame; Lex is about five foot seven, with silky dark brown hair that reaches to her mid-back. Like I said before, she’s got phenomenal blues eyes that are nearly translucent, they suck you in, a bit like her personality. One thing Lex does share with Kendall, even though they aren’t related by blood is; their curves. If anything, Lex’s curves outshine Kendall’s a thousand to one. I know I should probably be more attracted to Kendall seeing’s she’s closer to my age, but Lex has it over her in spades when it comes to… Everything. Her curves are ones that provoke images of days and nights spent in bed mapping them, her tits have to be at least two handfuls, her waist tiny enough that my hands could span them, and her long ass fucking legs make me think of nothing other than having them wrapped around my back twice.

  I’ve let Lex think the thirteen year age difference between us bothers me, it doesn’t, maybe it should, but I can’t bring myself to care. I get that I’m a fucking thirty-two-year-old man lusting after a nineteen-year-old, but in Lex’s case there’s nothing girlish about her, she’s all woman. In any other set of circumstances, with any other woman, I would probably have run for the hills at the attraction I feel, but with Lex, that’s impossible. It would be like removing a perfectly healthy limb, like CHOSING not to ride anymor
e, and that’s just not a fucking option. No. There’s no way I’m going to abide by her wishes, and stay away from her. That’s NOT going to happen, and Lex is fucking deluded if she thinks it will.

  There’s not many options open to me, and that is why I haven’t made a move on Lex yet. That’s why I haven’t made her my woman, claimed her, given her my patch. If I approach Cage and tell him I want to make his daughter my ol lady, I have no fucking doubt he’ll beat the ever-loving-shit out of me, and that in and of itself isn’t an problem; the fact that he’ll kill me, cut up my body, and dump it in the woods, kind of defeats the point of going to him in the first place. Lex’s grandpa Pipe, and by marriage, her grandpa Priest, will order my destruction faster than I can blink, and the rest of my brothers… Well, they’ll probably take turns kicking the shit out of me before the other men in her life get their shots in. Not to mention her brother by blood, Wheels.

  The kid is a fucking machine. Built like his dad, with an attitude to match; I can openly admit he’s the one I’d be more scared of if I was capable of feeling fear. It’s not that the kid’s physically intimidating, I mean, I’ve got a few inches on him and at least forty pounds, so that’s not it. Wheel’s is dangerous because he’s scarily brilliant in his ability to mastermind retaliation, and if there’s one thing I know; it’s that if you fuck with his sister, Wheels’ wrath will be handed down swiftly, and without mercy. Yeah, this isn’t going to end well for me, I can see it now.