Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  Noticing Snake’s boys leering at them and awaiting their turn to fuck, Ellen searched her mind for a way out of whatever had set Snake off. Since it could be anything—

  “You come all over Outlaw’s cock like that?” Snake asked suddenly and Ellen’s heart sank. This was so bad. He hated Outlaw. Mentioning him now meant something real bad would happen. He got to his feet and dragged Kiera up with him. “Do you, slut?”

  “Snake—” Kiera began, stopped by Snake’s fist slamming against the side of her face.

  The hit propelled them right back into a nightmare.

  Kiera wrapped her arms around Snake’s neck. “Whatever I’ve done, forgive me. Please, give us a chance to make it up to you.”

  Unmoved, Snake pried Kiera’s fingers from around his neck and pushed her to the guy who’d attacked her. He shoved a pillowcase over her head, subduing her struggles with the help of two others.

  “Why are you here?” Ellen asked after they’d dragged Kiera out. The words hurt her throat. She blinked to subdue her tears of fear and anger, helplessness overwhelming her. With Snake, she was helpless. He was evil, conscienceless, her worst nightmare.

  He knuckled her mouth and stared at her a moment before slapping her across her cheek. She cried out.

  “I’m here, you stupid bitch, because you called Rack and told him where Meggie was.”

  “I-I was helping Rack,” she protested.

  “No, you were fucking being a conniving cunt. You forget, Ellen, I know you.”

  She shivered at his ominous tone. He did know her, and he wasn’t a man who took kindly to betrayal. That’s why he hated Outlaw so much. “I didn’t connive against you,” she wheedled.

  He slapped her again. “Not me. Megan. My sister.”

  Ellen blinked, sure she’d misheard. Snake despised Meggie, too, for being in bed with Outlaw. He felt she was betraying their father by sleeping with Boss’s murderer.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’m going to let her watch her lover die before I put a bullet in her head. But you delivered the innocent little lamb right into Rack’s greedy hands.” He slid a long finger along her cheek. “Tsk. Tsk. Not to help him out but to get rid of your competition. Knowing you, Kiera would’ve been next.”

  “Please. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” Then the rest of his words penetrated and she stared at him in horror. “Outlaw?” she asked with a strangled gasp. “You have Outlaw?”

  A malicious gleam brightened his eyes. Nodding, he climbed onto the bed and rose above her, shoving his soft dick into her mouth. She trembled.

  “Be careful what you ask for,” he breathed, holding her head and gagging her with his cock. “Backstabbing has a way of catching up with you.”

  All of a sudden, Ellen knew. She knew. In her quest to get Megan out of Outlaw’s life, she’d signed their death warrants, including her own.

  Peyton stared at nothing in particular, impatiently tapping her foot as she awaited Ellen’s arrival. Today, they were going to the spa and having a late lunch to plot out their plan to get to Megan Foy. But Ellen was up to her usual tricks, not arriving on time as promised. This wasn’t some family dinner they could hold up because Ellen was too involved with whatever to arrive on time.

  They had set appointments, and the spa she’d booked them into was very exclusive. If Ellen screwed up Peyton’s reputation with them, she’d never forgive her sister. As it was, she should be happy Peyton would even bring Ellen with her to the high-class place instead denying even knowing her.

  But Ellen was at an emotional low point. Peyton had talked to her every evening since Christmas, listening to her sister’s heartache. Now, it was several days into the New Year, and she hadn’t talked to her sister in two days. Maybe, Ellen had worked shit out for herself with Outlaw. The very least she could’ve done was called Peyton. Drawing in breaths, Peyton decided to give Ellen a chance. She didn’t want it to start with an argument between them.

  Audra wobbled in, and Peyton sighed. Averaging one death a month must be working on Audra’s conscience. Her mother sat on the sofa, her posture ramrod straight, her hands on her lap, but the ringing of the doorbell prevented Peyton from asking any questions.

  Ellen had a key to the house, so she knew the impatient person incessantly ringing the doorbell wasn’t her sister.

  Her irritation grew when she looked through the peephole and noticed two men standing there, wearing leather cuts, proclaiming them members of the Death Dwellers MC. Outlaw’s MC. Unlocking the door but keeping the screened door secured, Peyton noted their solemn expressions.

  Unease kindled inside of her. “M-may I help you?”

  “We looking for Mrs. Audra Cooper.” The short, muscular speaker sported a crew cut, greenish-blue eyes, and a strong jaw.

  “I’m her daughter,” Peyton announced sharply.

  “She here?” the other one asked. He had a shock of white-blond hair and pale eyes that gave him a creepy look. He reminded her of death, and she backed up a little. “Audra Cooper here or not?”

  Peyton nodded.

  The short one drew his brows together in a fierce scowl. “Can we see her?”

  “Is this about Ellen?”

  The two men exchanged glances before the normal looking one sighed. “Yeah.”

  Figured. That was the only reason anyone associated with the MC would come to this house. Huffing, Peyton unlatched the screen door and allowed them entrance. “Follow me,” she ordered, marching down the short hallway to where her mother still sat, in her zombie-like state, in the living room.

  Peyton struggled to hold onto her patience. “We have visitors, Mama.”

  She couldn’t imagine what Ellen had done to send these men here. Probably for money. What other reason would losers like them had reason to seek a woman like Peyton out? She frowned and sized them up. They seemed so innocuous. Weird, yes. The dangerous criminals Ellen painted them to be, no.

  “What can we do for you?” Peyton bit out when Audra only narrowed her bloodshot eyes at the duo.

  “I’m Traveler,” the short one said and pointed to the other man. “This is Bin.”

  Peyton responded by folding her arms and lifting her brow, showing them with actions rather than words she had no time for idiots like them. They were both staring at her chest, revealed in the V-neck shirt she wore and meant to draw attention to her small tits.

  “Outlaw sent us here,” Traveler explained and shifted his weight. “Ellen’s been killed.”

  “What?” The word blared in her head but came out in a strangled gasp. “No.”

  “It’s true,” Bin insisted and shrugged.

  For a moment, the ground shifted beneath Peyton’s feet and her stomach lurched at how sincere he seemed.

  No, no, no. They were lying! Who walked into a person’s house and blurted such news with no warning? This had to be an elaborate joke. The thought helped helped her to brush off her shock and shook her head in denial. Ellen couldn’t be dead. She’d spoken to her two days ago. “That’s impossible. My sister is meeting me here for us to go to the spa.”

  The two men exchanged glances and nausea rose in Peyton at their sad expressions.

  “Sorry, babe,” Traveler said with sympathy. “It’s true. Outlaw wouldn’t have had us search Ellen apartment to find somebody to call if she wasn’t dead.”

  Peyton stumbled back. “You’re lying! This is some cruel prank. Ellen is—”

  “Dead,” Bin said flatly. “And Outlaw dealing with his own issues. Burying his Mama, for instance.”

  “Wh-what? His mother is dead, too?”

  “Killed by Snake. Just like Ellen,” Traveler explained as if Peyton shared a personal acquaintance with those people.

  “Outlaw’s old lady almost got killed, too,” Bin went on.

  Peyton focused her wavering gaze on him. She’d never fainted in her life, but she was on the verge of it now. Her sister was dead? That couldn’t be. They were going to the salon. They had an appointment f
or massages, manicures, and pedicures. Ellen wasn’t dead. The very idea was insane. Coopers didn’t just get fucking killed. They killed.

  She drew herself up. “I have to call my sister. She’ll tell you—” She swallowed. “She’ll say she’s just pranking me. I’ll get mad at her. Then, we’ll go to the spa.”

  Hands held up, Traveler stepped closer to her. “Babe, I’m sorry. That’s not happening. That’s never going to happen. Ellen’s dead.”

  Peyton laughed, a little hysterical. “No. You don’t understand.” She marched up to him and jabbed a finger in his chest. “Ellen is not dead.” She hurried to the window and shoved open the curtains. “See? Outside? The sun is shining. My sister…the sun wouldn’t be shining if Ellen was dead. Something would be different. The world wouldn’t look the same.”

  The two men exchanged uncomfortable glances; then Bin cleared his throat. “Don’t matter who dies. Sun still shines. Rain still falls. The world goes on.”

  No! No! No! Not for her. Not for Ellen. They were each other’s world. Peyton, Ellen, and Audra comprised the fucked up Cooper world.

  She yanked her phone out of her pocket and dialed Ellen’s number. It went to voicemail. “Ellen, call me.” Peyton’s voice wobbled. “Call me now!”

  She gripped the phone, her entire body shaking, belatedly realizing she needed to disconnect. Both men pulled out two stacks of cash from the leather jackets they wore and held it out to her.

  “Outlaw sent this. To take care of the funeral,” Traveler announced.

  Peyton’s eyes snapped to his, the truth of Ellen’s death sinking in at the sight of money. Her sister was dead. Dead.

  D-e-a-d.

  DEAD.

  Her entire body shook, and she backed away without touching the money. “The least Outlaw could’ve done was deliver the news himself.”

  Traveler threw the straps of cash onto a table then thinned his lips. “Didn’t you hear what we said? His momma got popped. His old lady managed to save herself but couldn’t do nothing for Ellen.”

  “His old lady?” Peyton echoed, the world spinning in slow motion.

  “Yeah,” Bin said. He followed Traveler’s suit and threw the stacks of cash down. “Megan.”

  Megan. She’d saved herself and left her sister to fend for herself and die. She’d already destroyed Ellen by stealing her man from her. She had to make sure Ellen was no longer a threat.

  “If you need anything from us…” Traveler let his voice trail off and started for the door. “No need to see us out, babe.”

  He and Bin left without another word. Peyton stood in shock, blinking through tears, dissecting all the two bikers had told her.

  “Peyton?” Audra squeaked from behind her.

  When she turned, she found her mother white with shock and tears shining in her eyes. She hurried to her, and they wrapped their arms around one another, sobbing together.

  Peyton wasn’t sure how many minutes passed before her mother finally quieted. She threaded her fingers through Audra’s hair, hating to see her pain.

  “Everything’s going to be fine, Mom,” she whispered gently.

  “It’s just you and me now, angel,” Audra returned in broken tones.

  Nodding, she urged her mother to her room, promising to bring her a drink to relax her. Alone, she sobbed all over again. Now that Ellen was gone, Audra would focus all her attention on Peyton, making even more demands on her. Audra would also live the rest of her days in grief and misery.

  Not sure which thought compelled her next actions, Peyton hurried to the bathroom and her mother’s medical bag where the poisons were kept. After pouring enough to kill two oversized men into Audra’s glass and then topping it with gin, she brought the mixture to her mother.

  Audra downed the contents in a few gulps and satisfaction rolled through Peyton. She couldn’t watch the toll the poison would take, so she kissed Audra’s forehead and hurried from the room. Once she cleaned up the evidence, the fact of Ellen’s murder soaked in completely.

  A burning desire for revenge that Peyton was determined to exact slid into her.

  She wouldn’t rest until Megan was dead and she’d align herself with anyone with the power to assist in her goal. Buoyed by her plan, Peyton checked on Audra and found her staring sightlessly at the ceiling, blood and foam leaking from her mouth.

  Dialing ‘911’, she allowed her grief to pour out of her to play the grief-stricken daughter.

  End of February

  Present Day

  Marcus “Digger” Banks sunk his neck further into his padded jacket, seeking warmth from his own body heat, though he doubted he’d ever thaw. Deep in the interior of British Columbia, it was fucking freezing. His breath puffed out in front of him and his footprints tracked in the snow as he walked across the grounds of his father’s compound. Unfortunately, Digger shared a small cabin he occupied with his nephew, Tyler, and his girlfriend, Peyton.

  True, he should’ve been more grateful that his father, the Reverend Sharper Banks, had allowed him refuge once he’d blown through his money in Europe. If not for Sharper’s “generosity”, Digger wasn’t sure where he’d be. Of course, it wasn’t really generosity on Shaper’s part, but another form of control. But he had no one but himself to blame. Once before, he’d detached himself from Sharper’s games. The only thing he’d needed to do was steer clear of Outlaw. He’d fucked up all around, so, no, he wasn’t grateful.

  Besides self-loathing, the only other fucking things he felt were disgust, regret, and fear. By now, Outlaw had probably gotten the fucking word that Digger was back with Sharper, which meant he was more than fucked. He was fucked painfully and gruesomely.

  If only Digger knew how the fuck to leave the small town where he’d holed up with Sharper and his bodyguard, Osti, Digger’s cousin, the meanest motherfucker…fuck, other than Outlaw.

  At the thought, Digger shoved his hands into the coat pockets, aware of Osti dogging his steps as they approached the storage cabin. The motherfucker had demanded Digger come with him because of an unexpected summons from Sharper. Digger hadn’t known they’d returned from wherever they’d gone.

  Gritting his teeth, he stomped ahead, hating the barren surroundings. They lived on what he described as a fucking settlement in the middle of fucking nowhere, like they were Marco Polo motherfuckers, out to discover the world. But that wasn’t their goal. Sharper intended to ruin lives. Kill. Overpower the weak and unwanted. Rule from the kingdom he’d created through blood, lies, and hypocrisy. To effectively continue his ruthless reign, Sharper had to disable the one motherfucker who could bring him down.

  Christopher “Outlaw” Caldwell.

  While Sharper was cut off from his mega-church and devoted followers, he still had power because he still had a lot of fucking money. As long as a motherfucker had money, they had fucking power. So, yes, Sharper had the power to have his little outpost with two cabins to use as living quarters, one for eating, another for laundry, and the final one for storage. Not a motherfucker questioned him when supplies were delivered each month.

  Sighing, Digger opened the door and entered the cabin. His breath whooshing out of him, he halted so quickly Osti ran into him.

  “Move the fuck out the way,” Osti ordered, shoving Digger forward.

  Too shocked to do anything but allow himself to stumble, Digger swallowed, his blood running as cold as the fucking snow outside. Sharper had gotten more girls. Six…no, seven, if he counted the dead one who had a knife protruding from her eye.

  Another girl, shackled to the others, would soon join the dead girl. This almost-dead girl trembled hard enough to shake the girl chained next to her.

  Blood oozed from her neck and the pain and plea in her eyes made Digger’s nostrils flare in horror. It smelled of death and sounded like misery and insanity. Hysterical giggles and pleasurable grunts pounded through his head, but he couldn’t drag his eyes away from the girls. More girls. All Sharper ever did was find girls to sell. Or kill. />
  If he ever got away from Sharper again, he’d become a beggar in the fucking street before he returned.

  Resignation dimmed the girl’s eyes. She knew her last breath would soon come. He wanted to end it for her then, put her out of her misery. But she…she was young.

  This shouldn’t be her end.

  Unable to look at her anymore, he turned and surveyed the entire scene. To his left, Sharper sat in the corner, nude, his eyes alert and hawkish. This was some type of test, one he’d worry about in a minute. First, he needed to drag Tyler’s naked ass back to the cabin. Peyton, he just wanted gone. High and wearing not a stitch of clothing, she was the bitch laughing like a hysterical hyena as she crawled around the shackled girls. The terror in their eyes reminded him of what a dumb motherfucker he was. At first, he’d been so fucked off with Mort for taking up with Bailey. Never mind the fact he felt as if he was always in his brother’s shadow. Digger had felt betrayed. He’d tried to play it off but once Mort married Bailey, he’d turned into a stupid motherfucker. End of story. All along Mortician had been right about their old man, but Digger refused to listen.

  Stubborn fuckheads made pansy asses. He’d had to find out the hard way that the motherfucker was a fucking devil. Not only because he stole girls to sell them on the black market, but because he was fucking corrupting a child, the boy supposedly his son. In actuality, Tyler was his grandson, fathered by Mortician. This had been Sharper’s chance to correct the mistakes he’d made with his sons. He’d done the complete opposite.

  His thoughts fueling his anger, Digger glared at his thirteen-year-old nephew. “Get the fuck up. Get fucking dressed,” he snarled, noticing the kid’s bloody hands and limp dick, glistening with pussy juices.

  Giggling, Peyton staggered to her feet, her body still flushed from fucking. Her cheeks and thighs were coated with cum. Digger’s jaw clenched. He didn’t need details. He already had a good idea of whose DNA she wore so carelessly.