Fighting Mac (Charon MC)

by Khloe Wren

  I gave him a nod. Scars had never bothered me. They told a person’s story that made them who they are. However, I was glad they were on my back so I wouldn’t have to see them every time I looked at myself in the mirror.

  “When can I go home?”

  “We had to give you a transfusion due to how much blood you lost. We’ve also given you intravenous antibiotics to eliminate the risk of infection. You’re still on morphine for the pain. I’d like to keep you in for at least another day, to make sure everything is still on track and healing as it should. However, if you’re desperate to get out of here, we can arrange that for you. It would mean less potent pain killers, oral antibiotics, and you’ll need someone to change your dressings regularly.”

  I gave him a nod, suddenly feeling really tired and more than a little fuzzy. Guess he’d given me a shot of morphine when he was mucking around with my drip.

  “As much as I know Mac would deal with everything if I went home, I think I’d like to stay here for a while longer.”

  The pain was already nearly gone. This morphine was good stuff.

  “Excellent. Well, I’ll leave you to get some rest for now. I’ll be back later to check on you again.”

  With that, the doctor left and before I could say a word, Mac softly kissed my lips again.

  “Go to sleep, bunny. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Mac

  It was well past dark when I returned to the hospital. Silk and Eagle had come to see Zara, and after taking one look at me, Silk had demanded I go get cleaned up and find something to eat. These last thirty-six hours had been some of the longest of my life. I knew she was safe and would heal from her wounds. But seeing my woman looking so pale, lying on a hospital bed was seriously screwing with my head. The doctor confirming she hadn’t been raped had been some of the sweetest words I’d ever heard. I swear, if that fucker had forced himself on her, I would have dug up his body and killed him all over again.

  I was nearly at the elevator when I was approached by a familiar–and unwanted–man.

  “Come with me.”

  With a sigh, I glanced around to make sure no one club-related was around before following Mr. Smith. I should have guessed he’d show up at some point. He led me to a small exam room and locked the door.

  “You didn’t call.”

  “Sorry, I’ve had my hands full. Haven’t found the time.”

  His gaze hardened. “You should have called me when Claire went missing. Both times.”

  I scoffed at that. I hadn’t even considered calling in the feds to find Zara. “Her name is Zara, not Claire. And she would have been raped, possibly murdered by the time your bunch finished with all your paperwork and protocols to go look for her. The club has its own resources, and by using them I got to my girl in time. I’m not apologizing for that.”

  He sighed heavily, like I was a stubborn toddler or some shit. “Do you have information about her father for me? Or do I need to go talk to her? I can, quite easily, you know? Now she’s here in the hospital, after being attacked, it’s standard protocol to have a police officer interview her.”

  The threat was bullshit. I knew Scout had contacted Donald, the local cop who was friendly with the club, and explained the situation. Zara wasn’t going to be interviewed by the local guys. However, that didn’t mean Mr. Smith couldn’t pull strings and cause trouble.

  “Zara spent last week going through boxes from her father’s office. She found a diary he left her. It told her how he’d found a beaten girl one night down in Galveston. She’d been at the Iron Hammer’s clubhouse for a party. They’d raped and beaten her but she somehow managed to escape. He took her to the hospital, and by morning she was dead. Inside job. After that, he joined a team. Couple of cops that weren’t on the Hammer’s books, a doctor, nurses and another taxi driver all joined up and started going after the girls the Iron Hammers were snatching to sell across the border.

  “So the guy was a fucking saint, saved who knows how many girls from a lifetime of sexual slavery. And for his efforts? He got himself and his wife murdered. It’s also why Sledge had such a hard-on for Zara. He wanted her to pay for what her daddy had cost him. But none of that matters now. The Iron Hammers have been cleaned out and that shit will never happen again with the new leadership in charge.”

  Mr. Smith just nodded as he rubbed his jaw, which had my anger building. I hadn’t set my eyes on Zara for over an hour. I was done wasting time with this bastard.

  “Can I go now?”

  “Yeah, you can. Thank you for the information. You may like to know, Claire’s parents weren’t the only ones murdered that day. Over half a dozen seemingly unrelated deaths occurred within hours of each other.”

  That had me blowing out a breath. “The whole team. Sledge found out who was sabotaging his runs.”

  “However, there wasn’t a second taxi driver in the mix. That diary didn’t mention names, did it?”

  I shook my head as I reached for the door. “Nope, no names. You’ll have to find some other way of identifying the rat. I’m done helping.”

  Before he could respond, I pushed out and hurried down the hallway. Skipping the elevator, I hit the stairs. Taking two at a time, I got up to the third floor quickly. By the time I hit the door to Zara’s room I was breathing heavily.

  “What the fuck?”

  Eagle cursed as he and Silk jerked in their seats.

  “Mac, I suggested you go get cleaned up. Not rush around so you’re sweatier than before you left. What the hell did you do?”

  Eagle’s gaze narrowed on me and when he raised an eyebrow I shrugged, not wanting him to worry.

  “Sorry, Silk. I was in a rush to get back to Zara.”

  Zara smiled as I went to her. She tilted her face up in silent invitation so I leaned down and gave her what we both needed. With a palm cupping her cheek, I took her mouth, pouring all my love for her into the kiss.

  Silk sighed loudly and with a chuckle I pulled back. “Shut it, Silk. I’ve had to watch you and Eagle do worse.”

  EPILOGUE

  Three months later…

  Zara

  With a deep breath, I headed out our back door and smiled. Our backyard was full of people and activity. I walked over to where Silk was sitting. At five months pregnant, she was well and truly showing now. I handed her a glass of lemonade before I sat beside her and sipped my own drink.

  “You know, they’re having way too much fun with this.”

  I nodded. “Boys will be boys.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the men as they pulled down the side fence–with way too much force and enthusiasm.

  “You know, I’m surprised they haven’t decided to blow it up.”

  I groaned at Silk’s suggestion. “Please don’t say that too loud. You know they will.”

  That had us both laughing hard enough our men heard and glared over at us for a moment before they went back to smashing out sections of the fence. I couldn’t wait for them to get done with it.

  Just as Mac had said, the house two doors up from Silk and Eagle’s place had been for sale, and he’d bought it for us. We’d moved in two months ago, just after Christmas. Then last week, Taz had settled on the house between us. Now the three men, along with several other Charons, were tearing down the fences that separated the three houses. I rubbed a palm over my tummy as I imagined how, in several years’ time, when we all had kids, how they would be constantly going between the houses. I couldn’t wait for that to happen.

  “Um, Zara? You got something to tell me?”

  Heat raced over my face when I realized Silk was staring at my tummy. I wasn’t going to say anything until later. We had a big barbecue planned for dinner and Mac was going to tell the club then. Guess I sort of let the cat out of the bag early. Oops. I looked over and when I caught Mac’s gaze, he grinned widely before coming over, shaking his head.

  “Knew you wouldn’t last until tonight. Go on bunny, tell them all t
he news.”

  Eagle, Taz and the other men all had come over with Mac.

  “We’re pregnant. Ah, due in mid-September.”

  I’d just started to get worried about the silence when the men began hooting and slapping Mac’s back with words of congratulations. Silk rose and pulled me in for a hug.

  “Congratulations, doll! This is so cool. Our kids will grow up together!”

  Eagle was snickering when he spoke up over the other men. “Don’t need to ask how you two celebrated the new house then, huh?”

  My cheeks flashed hot again. We’d already worked out that I’d gotten pregnant that first week after we moved in.

  “I’m just gonna run in and check everything’s ready to go for the barbecue.”

  I scurried away like a coward before the men could start making any more jokes about our sex life. They were horrible teases, the lot of them. But they were family. My chosen family that I knew would do anything for me. I also knew, without a doubt, that our child would have a life filled with love from lots of uncles and aunties. They’d also be protected at all times. I winced at the thought of a daughter. Poor girl would probably be a virgin into her thirties.

  “Nah, she’d find a way. I did.”

  Shit. I hadn’t meant to say any of that out loud. Nor was Silk supposed to have followed me inside.

  “I can just imagine how much she will moan and complain about her father and uncles ruining her life, if we have a daughter.”

  Silk laughed. “Yeah, she’ll complain, trust me. But it’s not a bad thing, it means that only boys who are real serious about her will come sniffing. And we’ll make sure the men don’t pull shit like they did with Eagle. That was ridiculous.”

  “What did they do?”

  She waved me off. “Oh, they made up some bullshit reason to give him a beat down. I actually walked away from the club when I found out what they’d done.”

  I looked out the window into the yard at Eagle. “He doesn’t look like a man easily taken down.”

  “Oh no, the stupid jerk agreed to it. Idiot males, the lot of them. It was him who came and got me and brought me back to the club after he healed up.”

  “Yeah, they definitely have their moments.”

  The men had finished taking down the fence. The timber had been stacked for a bonfire, which Mac was currently lighting. The rest of them all stood around with beers in their hands as they teased and carried on with each other. I couldn’t hold in the grin.

  “They might behave like little boys half the time, but they are awesome, aren’t they?”

  Silk scoffed. “Oh, yeah. MC men are a breed apart. All growly alpha male, until you get them alone. Then they’re nothing but big ol’ teddy bears.”

  I gave Silk a raised eyebrow. Mac was pretty damn growly alpha man in the bedroom. “Not sure I agree with the teddy bear part. Mac likes to be in control all the time. Likes to tell me what to do all the damn time, too.”

  Not that I was complaining. I loved every single thing that man did, in and out of the bedroom. The only time he’d been all soft and gentle was the first week or so after I got out of the hospital, and it drove me nuts. I knew he’d been holding back. After the doctor confirmed everything had healed up well at my appointment ten days after the attack, we’d come back to the clubhouse and I’d jumped on him. He struggled for a few minutes as he tried to stay gentle and soft with me, until I snarled at him that I wasn’t made of glass. After that, he got the message about what I wanted and I got my growly alpha male back.

  “Hey bunny, ready for me to start grilling the meat?”

  Mac’s strong arms came around me from behind, his palms resting over my still-flat tummy. I tilted my head to the side and his lips were kissing up my neck within moments.

  “You already put a bun in that oven, Mac. Here, take this out and try not to burn any of it.”

  Silk was trying to be stern, but I could hear the humor in her voice and when I glanced up at her, she winked at me. Mac nipped my ear before he released me to grab the tray of meat from Silk. I watched him walk back out, each flex of muscle as he strode out with powerful steps making me clench my thighs. A sigh escaped me and Silk snickered again.

  “Oh, shut up. Like you don’t ogle your man.”

  “And you laugh at me when I do it, too.”

  I grinned at my friend before I turned back to preparing the salads. After my parents died and I’d gotten sick, I’d given up ever having a man or family of my own. But here I was, with not just a wonderful man I could call my own, but pregnant with his baby. To top it off, I also had this huge bunch of crazy friends.

  Life was good. Really good. And for the first time in a damn long time, I couldn’t wait to see where my future was going to take me.

  To keep up with Khloe’s latest releases, including when book 3, Chasing Taz is releasing, subscribe to her newsletter: http://khloewren.com/lists/?p=subscribe or check her website: http://www.khloewren.com, where you’ll find all her social media links.

  Keep reading for the first chapter of Inking Eagle (Charon MC Book 1) and excerpts from Elle Boon’s Kellen’s Tempting Mate (Iron Wolves MC book 3) where you’ll learn more about Kellen, Xan and Jenna who were mentioned in Chapter 12 of Fighting Mac.

  INKING EAGLE

  Blurb:

  The sins of her father will be her undoing... unless a hero rides to her rescue.

  AS THE 15TH ANNIVERSARY OF the 9/11 attacks nears, Silk struggles to avoid all reminders of the day she was orphaned. She’s working hard in her tattoo shop, Silky Ink, and working even harder to keep her eyes and her hands off her bodyguard, Eagle. She’d love to forget her sorrows in his strong arms.

  But Eagle is a prospect in the Charon MC, and her uncle is the VP. As a Daughter of the Club, she’s off limits to the former Marine. But not for long. As soon as he patches in, he intends to claim Silk for his old lady. He’ll wear her ink, and she’ll wear his patch.

  Too late they learn that Silk’s father had dark secrets, ones that have lived beyond his grave. When demons from the past come for Silk, Eagle will need all the skills he learned in the Marines to get his woman back safe, and keep her that way.

  Chapter 1

  Silk

  “I see Eagle’s back on guard duty today.”

  I sprayed and wiped over the skin I was working on before I reloaded my gun to continue Tiny’s tattoo. Colt “Eagle” Benally was the bane of my existence. He’d joined the club ten months ago and was still a couple months off getting his top rocker. He had Native American heritage that gave his shoulder-length, jet-black hair a silky sheen. Made my fingers itch to run through it whenever I even thought about it. His dark, brooding eyes were always watching. That man never missed a thing, hence his road name, ‘Eagle’. Rumor had it he originally earned the moniker in the marines. I believed it.

  From the first time I caught a glimpse of him at that public poker run last October, I’d been hooked. He was one extremely well-put-together package of sex on a stick. And sadly, one I couldn’t touch. Prospects could screw around with the club whores all they wanted, but they weren’t allowed to touch the Daughters of the Club. Only patched in members could try to romance us, and even then, they’d better be deadly serious about how they felt. Especially with someone like me. My uncle is the vice president, enough to scare any prospect with half a brain. But I’d caught Eagle watching me more than a few times, his dark, sexy gaze following me around the clubhouse whenever I attended a party or barbeque. And he did seem to be my guard here at the shop more often than not these days. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen in two months when he got patched in. Would he make a move on me? Or was he just looking to fill his spank bank with someone untouchable? A grin spread over my face–if he did come after me, I wouldn’t make it easy–he’d have to work for it. And if he was using me for spank bank material, it would soon get out and my uncle would deal with him.

  “I overheard Uncle Clint saying he was Taz’s spotter in the mari
nes, or some shit. Apparently he sees things others don’t. Guess that means the poor schmuck gets put on guard duty all the damn time.”

  Tiny stiffened beneath me but stayed silent as I responded to Gabs, my best friend and fellow artist. I ignored Tiny, knowing he wouldn’t rat me out to my uncle for talking about Eagle to Gabs. Gabs might not officially be part of the club, but she’s hung around enough of us to know who’s who in our world. She let out a sigh before she responded to me.

  “I have to wonder why anyone would want to be a prospect. They get all the shit jobs for so long.”

  I shrugged. I’ve spent most of my life around the club, and there were always plenty of men hanging around, waiting for a chance to prospect in.

  “It’s shorter than any apprenticeship I’ve heard off. Hell, mechanics are doing shit jobs for four years before they get their certificate. Prospects normally only take a year before they earn their patch.”

  Gabs stilled from where she was sorting out the new order of body jewelry. “Huh. Hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  “Your uncle know you go around calling him Clint?”

  Tiny’s gruff voice was deep and suited his large frame.

  “Sorry, Tiny, but ‘Uncle Bulldog’ just doesn’t roll off the tongue.”

  It was a constant argument between me and my uncle. Everyone in the club used their road names, not their birth ones, and Uncle Clint grumbled every time I called him Clint, not Bulldog. My aunt on the other hand, thought it was hilarious.

  Tiny shook his head with a huff, but didn’t say anything more. I was well aware no one else would dare try to call the vice president of the Charon MC anything but Bulldog, and around the clubhouse I did call him by his road name. But outside of that building, he was Uncle Clint. The wonderful man, who, along with his wife, took me in when I had no one else in the world left. I preferred to not even think about how the 9/11 attacks on New York left me an orphan, let alone talk about it. Or how my dad’s brother appeared out of nowhere to take me home a week later. Understandably, he’d refused to fly after what happened and drove all the way from Bridgewater, Texas to Boston Massachusetts, along with his wife–my aunt Rose–as soon as he’d gotten word. I hadn’t ever met either of them before that day. When I’d asked my dad years earlier about why I didn’t have uncles and aunts like my friends at school, he’d explained that I did have one uncle. That his older brother was a biker and because of that, he’d been cut out of our lives. I really wished my dad hadn’t done that. It had been completely unnecessary, and as a scared, grieving, twelve-year-old, I could have used a familiar face.