by London Casey
Welcome to world of BACK DOWN DEVIL MOTORCYCLE CLUB
~
A romance novel by London Casey
London Casey is the pen name for bestselling romance author Karolyn James
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DARK FALL
A Back Down Devil MC Novel
Kaity Parkner is on the run and the last person she expects to help her is a shady looking biker. Little does she know, her protection will cost her a bullet wound, a car explosion, and the fight of her life.
Erik thinks about taking his own life every single day he's alive. The only thing stopping him is the determination to find the people responsible for the bombing that covered his face in hideous scars. When Erik begins digging around, the last person he expects to meet is a beautiful woman that he stupidly promises to protect.
From the first second Kaity looks at him, he can't believe that she is looking at him... and not his scars. However, the club is Erik's life and Kaity has been invited in, but her confession forces the club to put her trust to the test... Back Down Devil MC cannot afford to have a rat amongst them.
With no other choice, Kaity puts herself in the crosshairs of a major war.
Will her years of experience give the club enough time to find their answers or will unexpected secrets get them all killed?
*dpgroup.org*
one.
A single pull of a trigger could simply change everything.
That was the first and hardest lesson Erik learned when he moved up in the rank of Back Down Devil MC. A single pull of a trigger could initiate a war. A single pull of a trigger could end a war. Or in Erik’s case, a single pull of a trigger could end a painful mistake that he would have to face if he stayed alive.
Surviving an explosion maybe gave him serious credit within the MC, and with plenty of women willing to ease his pain in any way he wanted, but deep inside, Erik was extremely pissed off at the fact that he was suffering even though he wasn't the intended target. The bomb was meant for Shay and as of now the club still had no idea who ordered the hit. Erik was actually thankful that he had hit his head so hard and was able to forget the bombing itself. But now and forever, the scars on Erik’s face would be his memory of that day.
Erik sat on his bed, shirtless, his hands balled into fists. He looked down at his tattooed biceps, his chest, and his stomach. Spending so much time in the hospital made him weak. He needed to get into the gym and tear the fucking place apart. It seemed like the only way to take care of the urge that he couldn't shake.
Erik looked up and caught just a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Even then he could see the scars. If he touched his face, his fingers jumped over the scars. If anyone looked at him, they saw scars and then Erik. Even the guys in the MC. And whether they meant to or not, it pissed Erik off every time it happened.
There’s one way to do this. To solve this. To erase all this.
It wasn’t just about finding who had hurt Erik. That task was going to be daunting, which was proven by the kidnapping and torture of Jonesy. The MC had hired him to track down whoever put the bomb in Shay’s car. Now, Jonesy's finger rested in the middle of the table in the meeting room. The finger was simply a warning. A silent threat of power.
Erik looked to his right at the handgun that lay there. One simple squeeze of the trigger and it would all come to an end. There was no honor in dying by suicide within a club, but considering Erik’s circumstances and all he had done for Back Down Devil, he believed they would make an exception to the rule. He wasn’t some guy going off the edge or killing himself with pills and booze. This was real pain and real anger. The kind that could only be stopped with a gun.
It had been days since Erik had a full night of sleep. It was more of a series of naps, during which he would wake to his gun tempting him over and over. Out in the clubhouse, nobody knew what really went through Erik’s head. There was enough shit going on in the MC and the last thing Miller and Gaige needed was to be on suicide watch over Erik.
Plus, up until now he hadn’t pulled the trigger yet.
Fucking pussy.
Erik closed his eyes and swallowed. In his mind he heard the explosion. That sickening boom followed by a sense of free falling. Then the hard thud and nothing. That’s all it was in his mind, simply a soundtrack to living, almost dying, and now being stuck between living and dying.
This was not a life to be lived. Without retaliation, there was no purpose.
A single pull of a trigger could retaliate.
Erik believed that his death by his own hands would force the club to up the level of urgency to retaliate and defend their own. Whether it be local enemies like Eight Under or Coast Road, or something worse, the MC would avenge Erik’s death the proper way. The way they couldn’t do now because Erik was alive. His scars didn’t even piss the guys off anymore. They were treated as a testament of Erik's strong will.
It wasn’t will that kept Erik alive after the explosion. That was doctors and nurses doing their fucking jobs for their fucking paychecks. If they left Erik to bleed out on the ground, that would have been the test of will.
Erik reached for the gun. He held it in his hand and nodded.
Today was a good to do it.
Just pull that fucking trigger, brother. Come on… do it…
There was a whiskey bottle on the nightstand, along with pills. Those two could make the decision easier. But Erik preferred that the guys find the pills and the full bottle and know that he was clear headed when he made this decision.
Erik stood up and turned around. He wouldn’t look himself in the mirror while he did it. He licked his lips and felt his heart pounding in his chest. It was okay to feel a little nervous right now. His brains were soon going to be splattered across the fucking room.
Erik put the gun to his chin and kept his eyes open wide. His hand shook at first, but then it slowly calmed. Everything calmed. That’s what made it so scary and easy now. It was calm. There were no regrets. There were no worries.
Pull. The. Fucking. Trigger.
With a deep breath in, Erik readied himself. He exhaled and finally pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked.
Erik didn’t breathe again, because he was dead… right?
Erik opened his eyes and dropped the gun to his bed. He took a step back and started to shake.
“I pulled the fucking trigger,” he said. “I pulled the fucking trigger.”
The gun lay on the bed, barrel pointed at himself. He took another step back, then another, and kept going until he crashed into a wall. He turned and threw a fist, cracking the wall. Erik looked at his bloody knuckles. He spun around and the gun was still on the bed. Erik ran to the mirror. His eyes were wide as he checked for a bullet hole under his chin.
There wasn't one.
There wasn’t supposed to be one.
This was a test run. A practice suicide. A way to discover if Erik had the balls to actually do it to himself.
“Fuck,” he said.
Maybe that was the only moment he would have done it.
There was a knock at Erik’s door and it flew open.
“Hey, brother.”
Erik saw Blaine in the reflection of the mirror.
“Blaine.”
“What’s wrong?” Blaine asked. “You
look like shit, man.”
Erik turned and folded his arms. “I’m fine.”
“You sure? You got a woman hiding in here or something?”
“No.”
“Playing a little hide-n-seek? I got something I could hide...”
Erik shook his head. Blaine was such a dickhead asshole.
“What do you want, bro?” Erik asked.
“Time to ride,” Blaine said. “Miller wanted me to get you.”
“I’m in on it?”
“That’s right. Can you ride?”
“Fuck yeah,” Erik said.
His heart started to pound. He hadn’t been able to ride with the crew since before the accident. He wasn’t even sure if he was medically cleared, but he didn’t give a fuck. Not being able to ride was like being held prisoner. He looked down at the bed. He’d rather be dead than not be able to ride with Back Down Devil.
“Are we going out to find who did all this shit?” Erik asked.
“Just go find Miller,” Blaine said. “Look, I’ve got about two minutes so I’m going to find something to fuck real quick.”
“Something?” Erik asked.
Blaine laughed. “You know… if the hole is big enough…”
“Get out of here.”
Blaine knocked on the door, laughed, and shut it.
What a sick fuck.
Erik hurried to find a shirt to wear. He grabbed his leather cut and put it on next. He looked at himself in the mirror and forced himself to stare at the leather cut. The scars on his face meant nothing against the power of the leather cut. It was proof that he belonged to the club. To his brothers. They were family; the only family Erik ever knew.
Erik grabbed the handgun and took out the empty clip. He shook his head at the idea of pulling the trigger on an empty gun like that. It made him feel like a fucking pussy. When Erik put a full clip into the gun, he holstered it and left his room. He then went to the meeting room and found Miller and Gaige standing there, waiting.
“Come on in,” Gaige said.
Erik knew the protocol. They wanted to feel him out and make sure his head was in the right spot.
“Sit,” Miller said and pointed to Erik’s designated spot.
Miller looked at Gaige and gave a nod.
“How are you feeling, bro?”
“Like shit,” Erik said. “You see my face lately?”
“We want you to ride tonight,” Gaige said. “We want you there to find out the truth. But only if you want to be there. If you can handle it.”
“You think I can’t handle it?” Erik asked.
“He didn’t mean it like that,” Miller said. “Don’t get heated, Erik.”
“I’m not heated. I’ve been waiting to ride again. Now I can. Let’s get moving.”
“Hold up,” Miller said. “Think about what we’re up against here. Someone tried to take out Shay. They got you by accident, Erik. Then we hired Jonesy, and now look at him.”
“We have his finger,” Erik said. “I know.”
“This is bad,” Gaige said. “Real bad. This isn’t some bullshit crew around here. This is going to be some dangerous shit. This is…”
“A silent war,” Miller said. He stood from his chair. “Something we’re not used to. But Damnit, Erik, I don’t want you to be stuck here. I want you out there, working and riding with us. Where you belong.”
“But you have to keep it together,” Gaige said. “Revenge and retaliation is something that burns like fire. I’ve fucked up myself, Erik. Because of me, the club is in bed with a businessman that’s being a pain in our ass. I regret it.”
“But he’s helping us now,” Miller said. “That’s who we are meeting. It’s a black SUV, quick exchange of information and nothing more. I want you there…”
“You want him to see me?” Erik asked. “You want him to see my face? Scare him?”
“The truth,” Gaige said. “We want everyone involved in this to see and know the fucking truth. We are not going to bow down and walk away from this.”
“They’ll attack again,” Miller said. “I refuse to have more bloodshed in my club.”
Erik swallowed his pride and nodded. The scars would never go away. They would forever be a haunting reminder.
“Then we ride,” Erik said. “You guys want my gun or something?”
“No,” Miller said. “You need to protect yourself, brother. We just want you to know what’s happening right now.”
“Four of us are going,” Gaige said. “Miller, me, Blaine, and you. That’s it. Quick ride out and back.”
“Who is this guy?” Erik asked.
“Strokner,” Miller said. “We’ve kind of… scratched each other’s backs, I guess you could say. He’s got an in with a lot of shit dealing businesses. He’s digging around for us, hoping to uncover something useful about the club, the town, and Shay. Who knows what kind of skeletons he keeps in his closet.”
“Probably as many hookers and strippers Blaine keeps in his,” Erik said.
Gaige laughed and lit a cigarette. He stood and took a deep drag. “Enough wasting time here.”
“Are you sure you can ride?” Miller asked.
“I can ride,” Erik said. “I’ve felt dead from the moment that bomb went off. The only time I felt partially alive was when that nurse had her mouth wrapped around my cock. Now I want the open road. Plus, it’s dark. I like the dark.”
“Then let’s move,” Miller said.
They led the way and Erik walked out into the clubhouse. The room was full of life yet Erik's mind was full of death. He wondered if it would finally be the night a bullet would rip through him and end his life.
two.
Miller and Gaige rode side by side with Blaine and Erik behind them. Their bikes roared through the streets of Frelen like two-wheeled thunder. It was pure darkness except for four headlights that shined into the distance.
Inside, Erik could still feel pain. There was always pain; so much of it that he wasn’t sure if it was physical, mental, or maybe something else. He told himself the club was doing all they could. They would someday find the assholes who did all this and it would get resolved. Knowing that should have calmed Erik, but it didn’t. All he felt was numbness. Everywhere All the time.
They went around a few wide twists and turns until there was a set of headlights in a clearing ahead. The thrill was coming back to Erik as his heart began to race. Maybe this was all he needed. A little action, the two wheels, and the open road.
Miller directed the four of them to the side of the road. They filed in together and Miller and Gaige took the lead. It was their contact. Blaine kept his leather cut open, his hand near his gun. Erik lingered a few feet behind.
The passenger door on the SUV opened and a man in a nice suit came out. He adjusted his suit jacket, and offered a hand to Gaige. Erik could quickly see how uncomfortable Gaige looked as he shook the man’s hand.
“My friends,” the man said.
“Nobody is our friend,” Gaige said. “Get that through your head, Strokner.”
“Sure,” Strokner said with a nod. He offered his hand to Miller. “I just wanted to start by saying thank you for a job well done with my dear friend, Charles. We miss him so much. Turns out one of the whores he had been fucking finally got sick of him. Took him out in an explosion.”
“Terrible,” Miller said and laughed.
“I think that’s enough talk,” Gaige said. “We’re here for business.”
“I can see that,” Strokner said as he looked at Blaine and Erik. “Your friend back there is holding his gun.”
“Touching it,” Blaine said. “Want me to hold it?”
“Whoa,” Gaige said. “Blaine, ease off. Nothing is going to happen here. It's all good.”
“Friends,” Strokner laughed.
“We need information on our problem,” Miller said. “You said you knew Jonesy.”
“Yeah,” Strokner said. “He helped me a few times. Good man. Honest. Fair. H
e’d do anything to get information.”
“Give a finger?” Gaige asked.
“Knowing him, he’s still alive,” Strokner said. “Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he sent it himself. As a way to warn you. A calling. I don’t know.”
“So you’ve got nothing?” Gaige asked.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Strokner said and adjusted his jacket again. “Just wondering what I get…”
Erik had enough. He stepped forward and pushed between Gaige and Miller. He reached for Strokner’s shirt and pulled the man close.
All the doors to the SUV opened.
“Easy now,” Strokner said.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are,” Erik said. “But let me introduce myself to you. I’m Erik. See my fucking face, man?”
“I see it.”
“A bomb went off that was supposed to kill Shay. I was in the car instead. I don’t know why I lived, but everyday I fight to stay alive. All I have are these goddamn scars to show the world.”
“Nasty,” Strokner said.
“Nasty is what I’m going to do to the person who did this. Nasty is what I’m going to do to anyone who refuses to help me, or fucks around. And if your guys want to kill, so be it. I want to die. I’m ready to die. I’ve faced death and I’d do it again.”
Erik pushed Strokner away. He stumbled back and put his hands out to keep his guys at bay. Gaige squeezed Erik’s shoulder. Erik was ready to fight. Ready to kill. Ready to die.
“A bomb did that to your face?” Strokner asked.
“I wouldn’t lie,” Erik said.
“Okay. All I know is that you guys are about to go up against something dark. Something really fucking dark. This isn’t a few guys on motorcycles looking to throw fists and call it a night. This is serious shit. I’d advise you look into Shay and his past. I don’t know anything for sure, but this is big.”
“You mean like a company?” Erik asked.
Strokner laughed. “Like the company your club runs?”
“It’s all a front,” Miller said.