Havoc (Devil's Boneyard MC 3)

by Harley Wylde

  Havoc (Devil’s Boneyard MC 3)

  Harley Wylde

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde

  BIN: 008722-02819

  Formats Available:

  Adobe PDF, Epub

  Mobi/PRC

  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  315 N. Centre St.

  Martinsburg, WV 25404

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Crystal Esau

  Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

  Adult Sexual Content

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  Table of Contents

  Havoc (Devil’s Boneyard MC 3)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Harley Wylde

  Havoc (Devil’s Boneyard MC 3)

  Harley Wylde

  Jordan -- I spent a year in prison for a crime I admittedly did commit, but I had a good reason. I was supposed to serve a longer sentence, but a handsy guard and a pissed-off warden who wanted me to keep quiet meant I got out early. My brothers have abandoned me, and there’s nowhere for me to go. Until the hottest man I’ve ever met decides to be my knight on shining Harley. He only thinks he knows me though, and if he ever finds out I was locked up for a violent crime he might walk away. For some reason, the thought sends me into a panic. Havoc isn’t at all what I’m used to, but maybe he’s just what I need.

  Havoc -- No way the pretty blonde was doing hard time for anything bad. Just looking into her eyes, I can see how sweet she is. There’s a vulnerability there that makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let her go. When I find out the same prison that nearly killed me was trying to cover up another incident, one involving the woman I can’t stop staring at -- the goddess with the body of a porn star -- fury flows through me. Whatever it takes, I’ll keep her safe, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that what happens in that prison doesn’t stay there. Whoever hurt her will be coming, and I’m going to be ready for them. No one touches what’s mine, and Jordan may not realize it but I’m not letting her go.

  Chapter One

  Jordan

  Being the only girl in a house full of boys had taught me a few hard lessons. For example, guard your food when you eat, or it will be stolen from you. Punch first and ask questions later. And never, ever let your brothers know that you think their friends are hot. That last one had been a painful lesson to learn, and I was certain I’d be scarred for life. The second one is what landed me in a ton of trouble, and the first one had kept me from starving while I’d been locked up. If I’d known the prissy blonde who was running her mouth about my youngest brother was the daughter of the District Attorney, I might not have broken her nose and called her a whore. Then again, I’d never been known for holding my temper. Or at least I hadn’t before.

  Being locked up for assault had taught me a new set of rules. Make friends with the right people, always watch your back, and never find yourself somewhere alone inside the prison. It wasn’t the inmates I worried about quite as much as the male guards. Not that some of the inmates weren’t scary as hell, but I’d heard enough horror stories about the guards that I’d tried to stay away from them, and I’d mostly succeeded. I’d been released early after a guard had tried to force himself on me. I’d made sure he wouldn’t be having children anytime soon, and the warden had fired him, then made sure my release papers were in order. As long as I kept quiet, of course.

  I hadn’t realized that freedom would be so fucking scary, though. I’d been locked up for a year, only a fraction of my sentence, but it was long enough that I felt a little like a caged animal being set free. I wanted to run and feel the breeze on my face, but I didn’t trust it. I found myself scanning the area, a nervous energy thrumming inside of me as I waited for the Boogeyman to jump out and pounce on me. Stupid maybe, but I’d heard they called it fear of freedom. Just hadn’t thought it could happen after only a year inside, or that it would happen to me at all.

  My next to youngest brother, the one I fondly called Dopey, was supposed to pick me up. I should have known better than to trust he would keep his word. He’d never been on time for anything in his life, so why would today be any different? Our parents were gone and all I had left were my brothers. Only one of the four had come to visit me while I’d been locked up, and he’d only come twice in the very beginning. I hadn’t heard from any of them since then, until I’d asked for a ride home, and even then I’d only been able to reach one of them.

  I honestly didn’t even know where I was going. I didn’t have a home anymore. The only brother who had answered the phone hadn’t offered me a place to crash, and I didn’t have friends after what had happened. Staring down the long stretch of road that led to the prison, I wondered if I could make it to town before nightfall if I started walking right now. I wasn’t quite sure I liked being out in the open, but I sure as hell didn’t want to step back through the gates. With my luck, the warden would change his mind, revoke my early release, and lock me back up. Since I hadn’t gotten out of prison in a typical way, I hadn’t even met with a parole board.

  All I had were the clothes I’d been wearing when I was arrested, my ID, a useless bank card, and twenty-two dollars. My bank card hadn’t expired but it wouldn’t do me much good since I was sure my account would have been closed in my absence. If it hadn’t, I probably had overdraft fees or some shit to take care of, because I had no doubt my brothers hadn’t bothered to call the bank on my behalf and tell them I’d been locked up. I hadn’t exactly had the time to wrap up any loose ends before losing a year of my life. They’d tossed me into jail and kept me there until my hearing. I’d gone straight from that court room to the prison. My trial hadn’t even taken a full day.

  My jean shorts were frayed at the hem and seemed to be a little tighter than I’d remembered. I doubt it had anything to do with my diet the past year, but I had gained some muscle. One of the women who had watched over me was big on fitness. I’d hit the gym equipment with her every day that we were permitted to use the space. I still had curves, but I also had some toned muscle to go with it. And apparently more junk in the trunk than when I’d gone inside.

  While I’d been locked up my Nikes had mysteriously vanished. I’d been given prison issued fl
ip-flops to wear home instead. Not only were they hideous, but I could feel every damn pebble in the road as I walked toward what I hoped was the nearest town. The prison I’d been sentenced to wasn’t near my home area, and I honestly didn’t have a fucking clue how to get back without someone picking me up. My money wouldn’t buy me a bus ticket, or much else for that matter. I seriously doubted that motel rooms had dropped in price enough for me to get one, which meant I would be sleeping outside if I couldn’t find a way to reach one of my bonehead brothers, and hope the jackass actually came to get me. Unlike Dopey.

  The sun beat down on me and sweat trickled down my spine. I could feel my hair sticking to my neck and wished I had a way to pull it up. I hadn’t gotten it cut while I was locked up and it was now nearly down to my waist. As I looked off in the distance, the road looked a little hazy and I wondered just how fucking hot it was today. Summer in Florida was no fucking joke. I paused when I heard a rustle off to my right and my gut clenched. Please don’t be a hungry gator.

  A rabbit bounded out of the brush and darted across the road, making me sigh in relief that it wasn’t something about to make a snack out of me. I kept walking, but it felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the prison in the distance and figured I’d probably walked two or three miles. Nowhere near far enough, since I still didn’t see any sign of a town on the horizon.

  The longer I walked, the drier my throat became. My legs felt like they would give out at any moment, but I trudged onward. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. If I was lucky, Dopey would finally show up at the prison and someone would tell him which direction I took. I wasn’t entirely sure he’d come after me though. My brothers acted like it was entirely my fault I’d been in prison. And maybe I did need to control my temper better, but I’d been defending my family! That should have counted for something, right? Apparently not.

  I could feel my body swaying and dots were swimming across my vision. Had it gotten even hotter? My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and my limbs were getting heavier. The next step I took, I went down hard on the pavement. As much as I fought to get up, I just couldn’t do it. Instead, I fell forward and just lay there, panting and wondering if I was about to die after having survived a year in hell.

  A roar filled my ears and made my eardrums vibrate. I wondered if it was a common sound to hear when you were dying. The sound came closer, got louder, then shut off. I heard someone say a string of bad words that would have a made a sailor proud, then heavy steps came toward me.

  “Miss? Hey, you all right?”

  Whoever he was, his voice was deep and rich. I struggled to open my eyes, but everything was a big blur. I got the impression of a rather massive man dressed in black, and that was about it. Before I could say or do anything, I could feel myself slipping away again. The man cursed once more, then I was lifted into his arms. I heard more bikes and what sounded like a loud truck or SUV. I tried to focus on the voices, but I couldn’t keep up with the conversation.

  Something cool and wet was placed against my lips and I eagerly slurped the water.

  “Easy,” someone said. “Don’t want to get sick.”

  They took the bottle of water away and I whined, wanting more.

  “Let’s get her into the truck. The AC has been running and we need to lower her body temp. She’s burning up,” said another voice.

  “I didn’t see a vehicle broken down anywhere. You think some asshole kicked her out of their car?”

  Now that voice I recognized. The man who had first stopped to help me. My savior. Well, I hoped that’s what he would be. If they had something nefarious planned for me, I honestly didn’t have the strength to fight them.

  The icy air coasted over my skin as someone laid me across the seat of the truck. Eventually, I was able to open my eyes and focus a bit more. A group of big bikers were staring into the vehicle. One of them helped me sit up and drink some more water.

  “How long you been out here, sweetheart?” a giant with red hair asked. It was the man who had stopped to help. The one with the voice I could listen to all day and never grow tired of.

  “Don’t know. Since ten o’clock?” I said, my voice croaking a bit.

  “Ten?” an Asian man asked, his eyebrows shooting upward. “Damn. That was five hours ago. Where the hell were you going on foot?”

  “Town.”

  “Sweetheart, town is another ten miles down the road,” the redhead said. “Why are you on the side of the road? Some asshole kick you out of the car?”

  “My brother was supposed to give me a ride. He never showed.”

  The men shared a look then the redhead’s gaze sharpened on me. “A ride? From where?”

  I licked my lips and looked away, but he reached out and forced me to look him in the eye. Something about his gaze made me want to answer his question, like I needed to obey.

  “The prison,” I said. “They released me today and my brother was supposed to pick me up.”

  “Shit.” One of them stalked off then came back. “How long were you inside?”

  “A year.” Which was the truth. It just hadn’t been the full sentence I was supposed to serve. I wasn’t about to volunteer that information, though. I hoped they didn’t ask why I’d been locked up. All I wanted was a ride to town, and maybe a way to call my brothers and see if one of them would come get me.

  “Just a year?” the Asian man asked. “Drugs?”

  “No. I’ve never taken or sold drugs.”

  “Prostitution?” the redhead asked.

  I stared at him. “Really? I look like a whore? Thanks.”

  He shrugged then his gaze landed on my bare legs. I felt my cheeks warm, but my face was probably so red from the sun it wasn’t noticeable. Even if he wasn’t painting me in a flattering light, he was probably the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. Not in that pretty boy kind of way, but in a rough, rugged, and manly type of way. His red hair gleamed in the sunlight and the full beard along his jaw made me wonder if it was as soft as it looked. When he lifted his blue gaze from my legs, I knew I’d remember that heated look of his for a long-ass time.

  “What’s your name, darlin’?” one of them asked.

  “Jordan. If you guys could just give me a ride to the next town, I’ll try to call one of my brothers for a ride.”

  The Asian arched his eyebrows and looked at the others before returning his gaze to me. “I’m Phantom, and the guy who can’t stop checking out your legs is Havoc. He’s the one who found you. The other two are Renegade and Irish.” He pointed to each one as he named everyone.

  I blinked a few times then stared. “Um, did your mothers not like you?”

  Renegade snickered. “They’re road names, baby girl.”

  He turned and I saw a rather scary winged skull on the back of his leather vest, it had demonic horns and seemed to hover over a pile of bones. The words Devil’s Boneyard MC was stitched across the top. Huh. I’d pegged them as bikers just based off the motorcycles I could see parked on the road, but I hadn’t realized they were the hardcore kind. Were they like that show that had been popular a while back? I wasn’t about to ask.

  The one called Havoc was staring at my legs again. I wasn’t entirely sure what was so fascinating about them. Being on the short side, it wasn’t like they were miles long. They were toned though, and maybe that was enough to make him keep checking them out. If he hadn’t assumed I was a prostitute, I might have been tempted to see where things would go. I tried to avoid assholes though, and he was coming across as one, even if he had stopped to help a stranger passed out on the side of the road.

  Renegade smacked the back of Havoc’s head. “Dude, it’s not like you haven’t seen a woman’s legs before. You’re going to make her think you’re some sort of creeper.”

  Havoc looked away, then moved further back. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his gaze anywhere but at me. Renegade took his place, giving me a sympathetic look.


  “Ignore him,” Phantom said. “We can give you a ride to town, if that’s what you want. Since you didn’t know how far it was, I’m going to assume you aren’t from here. Where are you going to stay while you wait for your brothers?”

  “I-I don’t know. I have a little cash. Maybe I can get a meal somewhere and borrow a phone.”

  Renegade pulled a cell from his pocket and handed it to me. “Here. Call them and tell them you’ll be at the Devil’s Boneyard compound. If you live within fifty miles of this place, then they should know where that is and how to find you.”

  I accepted the phone. Phantom made me buckle my seatbelt, and then the one they’d called Irish slid behind the wheel of the truck. Everyone else got onto a bike, and then we were pulling away. I hoped I hadn’t made a mistake getting into the truck with a strange man, or by putting my life in the hands of a bunch of bikers. They seemed nice enough, but I wasn’t the best judge of character.

  I tried calling my eldest brother first, and went down the line. The first two numbers I called were out of service, which made me feel like there was a lead weight in my stomach. Had they changed their numbers and not let me know? Did they even still live at the same places they had before? Dopey’s no-show had me wondering if my brothers were cutting me out of their lives.

  No one answered any of my calls. I left a voicemail and told them where I’d be, but something told me none of them would come for me. I’d never been completely on my own, not in the outside world anyway. Prison had been an eye-opener for me, and I liked to think it had changed me for the better, but it didn’t seem like my brothers would let me prove that to them. I’d never gotten into trouble with the police before the day I attacked that stupid bitch, and I’d been defending my family. It seemed one sin was too much in their eyes.

  I gripped the phone tight, willing it to ring, but deep down I knew it wouldn’t. Once we arrived at their compound, whatever that was, I’d thank the motorcycle guys for helping me, then I’d set out and try to find my own way. I’d need a job, and with a record I didn’t think that would be easy. My future was looking bleaker and bleaker the more I thought about it. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t been released, or hadn’t ever made it out of that place. What was the point if my only family wanted nothing to do with me?