Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas

by Natasha Thomas

  Don’t think I was entirely self-sacrificing, though. Sure, I knew I wasn’t good enough for her, that she deserved better, but I kept a safe distance for another reason too. And that reason wasn’t her Dad and his club; it was me.

  I knew without a doubt, I would destroy her. Not in the way you’re thinking either. If she and I were together the way I am would eventually tear us apart. I’m a jealous, possessive, and demanding man. I don’t take kindly to the woman I’m with getting attention from other men. I won’t tolerate her talking to, flirting with, or touching any man but me. Not to mention, there’s no way in hell I’d be able to handle not being with her 24/7. And, I can assure you, a woman that looks like she does gets a fuck ton of attention.

  I spent the year after she turned eighteen wrestling with my decision not to pursue a relationship with her. Every time I saw her, I rethought it. When she’d call my name across a room, or threw herself in my arms telling me she was happy I was home safe, I’d curse myself for it.

  Some of the hardest times for me were when I saw her eyes flare with emotions which mirrored my own. The lust. The desire to touch me. The deep, all-consuming love. It was all there, and it took everything I had to restrain myself from going after the only woman who would ever own my heart.

  That’s where Bec came in. What we had was a distraction when I needed it most. She gave me a way to work out my frustrations without having to worry about becoming attached. There weren’t any feelings on her side either, of that she assured me. I knew this was true when I told her about the other woman I’d met that I began sleeping with. Alysia.

  Alysia and my relationship was much the same as mine and Bec’s. It was fun, casual fucking. But where it differed was in the type of woman Alysia was. Strong, focused, and driven. She wasn’t fun, carefree, and sweet like Bec.

  Alysia was in the Army as well, deployed just as often as I was. When we hooked up, it was intense. We burned hot for each other, but just as soon as that fire peaked, it petered out too.

  For a while there, I was under the mistaken impression I’d fallen in love with Alysia. However, when I really thought about it, I recognized what I felt wasn’t love, it was respect. I cared about Alysia, a lot, but I wasn’t in love with her. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that until I made the mistake of asking her to marry me, though. Yeah, I know. Not my smartest move, but no one’s accused me of being a genius before.

  I’ll give Alysia this. She let me down gently, and my stupidity thankfully didn’t affect the connect we had because we’ve remained good friends throughout the years. In the end, it all worked out for the best because now, she’s married to her first and only love, Rob.

  Alysia had been in love with Rob since back when they went to high school together. The feeling was mutual, but in those days, Rob was too fucked up and damaged to drag Alysia into the shit show that was his life. So, he did what any man who loves a woman with his entire heart and soul would do; he left.

  To cut a long story short, Rob suffered through some of the worst kind of abuse any kid could suffer. He may have come out the other side of it winning the girl, but it took a long time, a lot of help, and a life-threatening situation to get them there. They’re happy now, though. Deliriously so. And I’m happy for them.

  Everything my relationship with Alysia and Bec ended up teaching me was that I couldn’t escape what I felt for her. It didn’t matter how much time passed, how much distance I put between us, or how many women I fucked it would always be her for me. Which in essence is why Fury’s words hit home with me last night.

  Intermingled with the feelings of sadness Bec’s gone, devastation at how she died, and guilt over not being able to save her; I feel bone-deep relief. Why? Because there’s no question that after suffering through what she did before she died, Bec wouldn’t have come out the other side of it the same woman. Not even remotely.

  It takes a special kind of woman, one like Avery or Beth to recover from the atrocities the three of them went through and not break. Bec was not that woman. She wasn’t as strong as Avery and Beth are. No amount of support, help, care, or time would have repaired all of the wounds she sustained. Sure, her body would have healed. But her mind and her soul? Never.

  That’s why I felt relief when I found her. As I cradled her cold, lifeless body to my chest, frantically checking for a pulse I knew I wouldn’t find, I was relieved when I confirmed her heart had long since given out. Not only because she’d never be the happy-go-lucky jokester anymore, but because I know for a fact the second she opened her eyes in the hospital if she’d lived, Bec would have prayed for death.

  We’d once had a conversation about what Beth had gone through when she was younger – what Markham had done to her – and Bec admitted she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if that had happened to her. Bec was blunt when she explained that if she were brutally raped like Beth was, she would take her own life. The disgust she would feel would be too overwhelming.

  It killed me to hear her talk about ending her life, but in part, I saw where she was coming from. However, I will say; at the same time it made my chest fill with a newfound respect for Beth. How she overcame it and turned into the woman she is today is nothing short of awe-inspiring.

  Lying in bed, in my quiet apartment, alone last night, I thought about everything Fury said and nothing but. The words were on repeat in my head until I had to do something to shut them off. So, I did the only thing I could.

  “Yeah?” The gruff voice on the other end of the phone answered.

  “Brother, you got the time to talk, I’ll take it.”

  He didn’t ask questions, something I was grateful for. He also didn’t hesitate in saying,

  “When? You name the time and place and I’ll be there, Jay.”

  “Tomorrow. Twelve. Lunch at Hound’s,” I managed to grunt out, the gravity of what I was about to do hitting me with the force of a ten-ton truck.

  “I’ll see you then, brother. We’ll talk,” Fury said, his tone full of promise. What he was promising I don’t know, but I suppose it won’t be long before I find out.

  “Yeah. Later,” I replied, disconnecting quickly.

  After that, I had every intention of turning over and going to sleep. I was exhausted. Running on less than three hours sleep a night was no joke. And if my messaged alert hadn’t sounded at precisely that moment, I’m sure I would have been out like a light in less than a minute.

  *Angel – Are you okay? I’ve been trying to call you but you won’t answer the phone or my messages. Just let me know you’re okay and I’ll leave you alone.

  I briefly consider ignoring this one too like I have the last few dozen, but something inside me has me snatching up my cell and tapping out a reply.

  *Jay – Fine.

  Short and to the point. Enough to let her know I’m still breathing and, hopefully, make her stop checking up on me. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, or love that she cares. It’s just that I don’t want to have to explain what the fuck is going on with me when I don’t know myself.

  *Angel – I highly doubt that but that’s all you’re going to give me, isn’t it?

  *Jay – Yes.

  *Angel – Just know that I’m here if you need me. I’m not going anywhere, so if you ever want to talk, I’ll always be ready to listen.

  This time, I don’t reply, I can’t. The emotion clogging my throat has me swallowing multiple times just to dislodge the lump rapidly forming, cutting off my ability to take a deep breath.

  *Angel – Goodnight Jo. Sweet dreams.

  Seeing her use of the nickname she gave me over ten years ago has the first genuine grin I’ve managed since before Bec was killed tipping the corners of my mouth. She started calling me, Jo because she said I was too big a personality to fit into the one letter abbreviation of my given name the MC gave me.

  Back then, I didn’t have the heart to break it to her that it wasn’t one but three letters. I loved that she called me something d
ifferent to everyone else, and if it made her happy, that was all that mattered.

  Rolling over, I place my phone on my nightstand, shuck off my jeans and rip my t-shirt over my head. Crossing my arms over my chest, I close my eyes and picture her face. Not Bec’s; Blaine’s.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ~ Fury ~

  Knight and day

  Why is it that when it rains, it always fucking pours? Not only is tonight the night I’m heading over to Avery’s to hear her deliver my fate, but I’ve got to meet Jay at Hounds in a couple of hours. I don’t begrudge my buddy the time, but I know my head’s not going to be in it. I’ve barely been able to think of anything but Avery for days, today being worse because it’s D-day.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, now Boss tells me he needs me to take Sly’s place when we meet with Nix in twenty minutes. This meet is something that will take one hundred percent of my focus. For all our sakes, I fucking hope I’ve got my shit together by then and my head is in the game.

  “Are you ready to ride, brother?” Boss says from behind me.

  Not really, but I can’t tell him that.

  “Yeah. When do we head out?”

  “Just waiting on, Diesel. He’s back there,” he replies, jerking his head toward the back of the main room. “Think he’s on the phone to, Cami, so if he’s not done in two, I’ll drag his ass out of here if I have to.”

  Laughing at him because there’s a good chance he’ll have to do just that, I ask,

  “How’s Beth doing? I should have gone and seen her before now, and I’m sorry I haven’t, but I’ve had a lot of shit going down I’ve needed to get sorted.”

  Clapping me on the shoulder, Boss gives me a shit-eating grin that tells me his old lady is just fine without a visit from me.

  “She’s doing good, Fury. Beth understands why you haven’t been around and trust me, she’s rooting for you like the rest of us.”

  “Why am I not surprised your woman knows?” I grunt.

  “Because, I can’t keep shit from her. She’s like a goddamn bloodhound. I swear she can scent gossip on me.”

  Hmm, I highly doubt that’s true. It’s more likely, my President has a big fucking mouth and can’t mind his own business, but whatever. I don’t’ really give a shit who knows about my feelings for Avery. If I have any say in the matter, it will be public knowledge she’s mine by midmorning tomorrow at the latest.

  “You fuckers ready to ride?” Diesel questions, coming up behind us.

  “Been ready, just waiting on your ass,” Boss mutters walking out into the forecourt.

  Diesel and I follow behind him, mounting our bikes and falling into formation as Boss throttles up and out of the compound. Me on his left, and Diesel on his right.

  Todays’ sit-down with Nix is set to take place on neutral ground. Half way between Hells Riders clubhouse and ours, in the back room of a gym a buddy of ours owns called, Knights.

  Knight Parker is a badass motherfucker only a complete idiot would consider messing with. And as stupid as Nix and the rest of his merry band of fucktards are, not even they’re game enough to take him on.

  At six-seven and two hundred and seventy pounds, Knight may be huge but that’s not why he’s so intimidating. The man radiates power and authority, and wouldn’t hesitate to kick someone’s ass for disrespecting him. That goes for his place of business too.

  Knight inherited the gym he owns from his Dad, Graham when he died a few years back. Having gotten out of the Army, discharging a couple of months’ after Jonas, Knight worked alongside his Dad until he was too sick to continue. It wasn’t long before the cancer that riddled his Dad’s body all but ate him alive, leaving Knight and his brother Nate to take over the family business.

  I haven’t seen Nate around for a while. The last I heard, he was still in Lower Falls – the town Knights is located in – but he doesn’t have a lot to do with the gym these days. Nate was never interested in running a business, which for the most part suits Knight just fine.

  Pulling up outside the gym, I take note of the vehicles parked up and down the street. My primary objective today is to play the part of glorified lookout. While the meeting is taking place, I’ll be at Boss’ side as will Diesel, but until then, it’s my job to make sure Nix isn’t using this meet to stage an ambush. I wouldn’t put it past him the slippery fucker.

  Knight’s gym is nothing like the air-conditioned, juice bar providing, electronic exercise equipment gyms you see on every city block in Denver. No. This is an old-school boxing gym, dedicated to training fighters in various different disciplines. You won’t find stair climbers, indoor running tracks, and women in skimpy workout outfits here. Instead, you’ll find heavy bags and speed bags suspended from the exposed ceiling beams, a full-size boxing ring, MMA cage off to the left, and a few treadmills that should have been replaced twenty or so years ago.

  In saying that, Knights is clean – surgically so, which I think that has a lot to do with Knight having been in the military for so long. The building it’s housed in is old – turn of the century – but it’s in good shape, and it’s fucking huge.

  Aside from the open-plan main training area, which is what you step into the as soon as you walk in, there’s a large locker room with showers and separate toilets, Knight’s office, and several storage rooms. There’s also a back room with a second boxing ring that’s used for fights Knight schedules once a month. These fights being of the not entirely legal variety. That’s where we’ll be meeting with Nix and his boys today.

  “Anything?” Diesel prompts.

  “We’re good,” I return, doing one last scan of the immediate area.

  Entering the gym through the rear entrance, Knight shakes our hands, signaling for us to follow him.

  “Nix isn’t here yet,” Knight informs us, pushing open a set of double doors.

  Flicking on the light switches on the wall beside him, the space is illuminated, reminding me of just how big this place really is. From the front you’d never be able to tell the gym could hold, at least, a thousand people comfortably.

  “Good to see you, man. It’s been too long. How’s Lena doing?” Boss asks.

  Lena is Knight’s wife. They got married when they were both eighteen, just before Knight left for boot camp. There’s isn’t one of the clichéd stories you usually hear where boy knocked up girl, so they had to get married quickly because he’d joined the military. Not even close.

  Knight is so in love with his wife it makes the rest of us look bad. They were high school sweethearts, meeting their freshman year, and have been joined at the hip ever since. She supported his decision to join the Army and waited patiently at home for him during every deployment. In fact, Lena supports every decision her husband makes, and for the most part, does it without question.

  Lena is one of those rare women who can see the bright side of any situation. She found ways to keep herself busy while her husband was overseas, working as a nurse in the maternity ward at a hospital in Boulder. When Knight’s Dad was dying, Lena took a leave of absence from her job, stating she didn’t trust anyone else to oversee his care. Something she saw to, up until and including the day he passed.

  “Gone,” Knight answers, shocking the hell out of all of us.

  “What the fuck?” Diesel hisses. “Where?”

  Turning to face us, I take in Knight’s ravaged expression. I didn’t notice when he greeted us, but the man looks like he’s aged ten years since the last time I saw him, and that was only a little over a year ago.

  “Your guess is as good as mine to where she’s at,” he grates out. “I’ve been looking for her for four months, even hired a PI to track her down and nothing. She’s in the fucking wind.”

  “You want our help?” Boss offers. “I’ve got a guy. He does good work. Done a few jobs for the club lately, I can put a call in and see if he can get any leads on where she might be.”

  As Knight’s mulling that over, Diesel prods,

  “You tw
o were solid. What the fuck happened that she’d run off?”

  “Been trying to make a baby for the last five years. You know how much she loves kids, so it makes sense she’d want a few of her own. It didn’t bother me she wasn’t getting pregnant, I’m all for practicing, and we were practicing a hell of a fucking lot,” Knight replies with a wistful smile. “When it wasn’t happening for us, she made us both go get tested to see if there was something wrong. I should never have let her talk me into it. The doctor told us she’d never be able to have kids, something about severe endometriosis. Obviously, my wife was fucking devastated, cried all the time, stopped eating, withdrew from me completely. I’ve never been as goddamn helpless as I was in the six months before she left. I tried everything I could think of to pull her out of it, but nothing worked. Then, one day, I come home to a Dear John letter. Fuck me!” He exhales heavily.