White Lies (Blood Brothers MC Book 1)

by Love, Amy

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

  White Lies copyright @ 2014 by Amy Love. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

  Part 1 of the Blood Brothers MC trilogy

  CHAPTER ONE

  It was morning, and it had been a long time coming.

  Kane Peters took possession of his meager belongings, the suit from his trial, the penknife that could have served him well on the inside, and her photograph. The image got him through the darker nights.

  None so dark as the first.

  ***

  Kane was cornered in the shower. He had told himself that he had nothing to fear; nothing was too much too handle. But forms that surpassed even his great height threatened to rip him wide open for another man’s crimes. Rumor had spread through the showers that a baby rapist had recently arrived. Soap fell off the shoulders of men who had killed in the name of money and honor. But to hurt a child? That broke code and would be dealt with accordingly.

  Kane held his ground in the wake of their menacing eyes.

  “I’m a Blood Brother,” he stated simply.

  “What the fuck is that?” the biggest guy barked.

  Glancing at the ink on his arms, Kane thought of the days in which that mark had been enough to keep him from all harm. He was the one that men feared when other gangs tried to challenge him in the space of a fast food counter or on the cusp of a knife fight. He could take them down with a glance and head back to his crew, needing nothing more than Noel at his side and the roar of the bike between his legs. Nothing more than that.

  “Look, buddy,” Kane started. “You better—”

  He was driven into the tiles, and he couldn’t stop the force of the foot that spread his legs apart until he was splayed on the ground. It was a bitch move, but Kane tried to scream. He couldn’t make a sound, and as he steeled himself for the attack, Kane drifted towards a memory.

  ***

  Angeline.

  ***

  Her face was all pale angles below wild brown curls. When he first met her, by chance as she spent her day off ministering to the lowest corner of Frisco, Kane was nursing a sprained wrist. Normally he’d ice it down and wait it out, but after two days, the pain still raging and forced him to swallow his pride. Gritting his teeth, he fell into the feel of her hand, and she smiled when he winced.

  “Relax,” she said. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  In her pink scrubs, she danced her fingers up his arm and back again. Stopping at his tender wrist, Kane sighed.

  “I get that,” he said. “Think you can help me out… nurse?”

  She smiled brightly and cocked her head to the side.

  “Leave it to me,” she said. “Here.”

  Reaching into a tiny fridge, she produced an ice pack.

  “Hold this close,” the nurse said. Kane grudgingly brought the icy gel to his wrist and watched her move around the small exam room. She was a frenzy of quick starts and stops, her head constantly poking through the door to ask if anyone else needed her help. Her pace impressed him, and when she turned her gaze back to his, her eyes brimming with concern, Kane touched her with his good hand. His fingers curled around her neck. She gently closed her eyes, and Kane felt her flesh, warm and wanting. She seemed to forget herself. Closing her eyes, she sighed into him, and when she lifted her lids, there was nothing but two too-wide eyes, bright green.

  “Look, mister I have to—”

  He kept her close when she tried to pull away. He had to know more.

  “You got a name?” he asked.

  Again she tried to leave his hold, but before she could move, Kane forgot his injury and brought her pale face closer to his.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered. Kane felt her body tense, but her eyes were anything but.

  “Relax, honey,” Kane said as he grazed his fingers against her cheek. “Just trying to be friendly.”

  The nurse began to protest, but then she paused as she seemed to realize that he wasn’t the type to give up without getting everything he wanted.

  “Angeline,” she murmured. “Okay?”

  She tried to turn her attention back to his injured wrist when he brought his good hand behind her back. Taking her curls between his fingers, Kane knew that he wanted to know more about her. And there was no way that she would ever be able to turn him down.

  “What about you?” she asked.

  No way at all.

  “Who, me?” he asked, a confident smile crossing his face.

  “Can’t I be friendly, too?” she challenged with a smirk.

  Just as he had expected.

  “I’m Kane.”

  “How’d you hurt your hand, Kane?” Angeline asked.

  He massaged his wrist as his eyes went dark.

  “Price of doing business,” he said. “It happens.”

  It might scare her some, but soon he’d get her alone and show her everything he could do, even with a bad hand.

  But there was no fear in her eyes. If anything, Angeline was curious.

  “And what business is that?” Angeline asked.

  He’d show her soon enough, but first things first.

  “You got dinner plans?” he asked.

  Angeline blushed, but she didn’t fall away from him.

  “And what if I say yes?” she teased

  Pressing his palm into her, Kane’s eyes narrowed and he laughed.

  “Cancel ‘em,” he said. “You just got a better offer.”

  She hesitated for all of a second before smiling.

  “Looks like,” she said.

  ***

  “Scum!”

  He was back in the prison showers, shaking his head, trying to scream through a tattered wash cloth. As he fought, more and more men surrounded him. Out of the corner his eye, Kane saw them working their hands around their cocks. Being a Blood Brother counted for nothing. He had taken beatings before. When he was a kid. The trick was always to focus on something else.

  ***

  “I cancelled my imaginary plans for this?”

  So it wasn’t the Ritz. Diner grub was good enough for him, and this was just the first course. Dessert would be more to her liking.

  “Hey, at least you don’t have to cook,” he said as he casually pulled a smoke from his pack. Lighting the butt, smoke spilled above her head. She looked good through the haze, and he started to speak when a cracked out waitress drifted towards their table.

  “Not in here,” she said, her eyes dazed as she moved past them in her own fog. Kane took another drag before starting to stamp the cigarette out. Angeline folded her arms across her chest.

  “You know that’s bad for your health?” she prompted.

  “Seriously?” he said in a mocking voice. “No one has ever told me that.”

  Here it came. The lecture. He’d let her talk for a few seconds. But no more. He wanted to hear other sounds pouring out of her mouth.

  “Well, it is,” she said.

  The flame was almost dead when she reached across the table. Taking his hand, she brought the crumpled cigarette to her lips, exhaled like a pro, then snuffed it out against her saucer.

  “But some habits are hard to break I guess,” she said.

  Her eyes sparkled as she scanned her menu. Leaning back, Kane knew that he liked her, and he was glad that tha
t some punk had twisted his wrist to the point where it now was.

  ***

  Now his arm was wrenched back again, and his soapy form was about to be ripped in two. As the tip of a strange cock started to work its way inside his ass, Kane forced his mind back to Angeline.

  ***

  His apartment was cluttered, but she didn’t seem to mind. Brushing a pile of dirty clothes aside, she sat on the couch as he cracked open the fridge and pulled out a beer.

  “You want one?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Absolutely.”

  Kane opened another bottle and sat at her side.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  He watched the bubbles swirling down her throat. When she set the bottle down, he shifted closer. The girl needed to be kissed, and he was the man for the job. Curling his arm around her shoulders, Angeline waited for him to make another move.

  “Tell me, Angeline,” he started. “Do you do this with all your patients?”

  She started to squirm in his hold, but Kane’s strength kept her close. Naturally she would say no. But how could she resist his—

  “Oh yeah,” she said. “All the time.”

  Kane started back and stared at her hard.

  “You do?” he asked. Kane hadn’t pegged her as easy, but it wouldn’t be the first time that he’d read something wrong.

  “I have burly bikers falling at my feet in scores,” she said. “Couldn’t you tell?”

  It took him a second to realize that she was joking. When he did, they laughed together, and he drew her closer to his chest.

  “So you want to hang out?” he asked.

  Angeline paused. She soon brought her fingers to the stubble about his cheeks, her smile wider than her eyes.

  “I think so,” she said.

  “You think?” Kane asked. He leaned in to kiss her. Her lips parted easily around his, and he hugged her tighter. Leaving her mouth, she slowly shook her head.

  “No,” Angeline said. “I’m pretty damn sure.”

  And he kissed her again.

  ***

  Kane was on his stomach, his legs held apart by meaty hands. Suddenly, a sharp whistle hit the shower.

  “Not him,” a voice said.

  Kane was able to lift his head to see a muscled black man pointing down the hall.

  “Kiddie fucker is in the next stall.”

  Water sloshed all around, into his mouth, down his nose. When Kane was finally on his own, he struggled to his knees and listened without sympathy to the violation of the pedophile. Raping babies. It was a crime. It was depraved and disgusting. No excuse.

  But some crimes had one.

  ***

  “My dad’s worse today,” Angeline said as she entered his apartment. She was more nervous these days, and when Kane told her that they would figure something out, Angeline always relaxed into him and nodded.

  Not now.

  “Hey? What’s up?” he asked.

  He started to hold her, sure that he could drive her fears away, but she just shook her head as she struggled to speak.

  “And I can’t afford … so I… shit.”

  Running her hands through her hair, she looked more distressed than he had ever seen her. But whatever it was, he could fix it.

  “What, honey?” he asked, trying to keep it light.

  And then she told him that she was selling pills on the street in the hope of meeting the next month’s bills.

  “You what?” he asked. “Why would you…?”

  Sure her dad was sick. And she wanted to help. But this? It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. Too many things could go wrong if she happened upon the wrong guy and—

  “I think I’m gonna get caught, Kane,” she said. “I tried to be careful. But…”

  Tears started to stream down her face. In that moment, he could do nothing but hold her. His mind filled with the idea of her in cuffs, behind bars. It was not going to happen. Not to her.

  “I’ll handle it,” he said as he took her head in his hands.

  “Kane, I—”

  Shushing her with the force of his kiss, he ordered her to hand over her stash. She hesitated for a second, but then he promised that he’d see to the pills and get her the cash.

  “But won’t you be in danger?” she asked, bunching his t-shirt in her shaking hands.

  “Maybe. But I’ll risk it for you,” he said.

  Her injured father would get his treatment. He could do that much.

  “Kane—“

  “This way you’ll stay safe,” he promised. “I want to do this for you. Trust me. It’ll all be good.”

  And then he got caught, and he would serve five years, with good behavior, for his drug dealing. His club groaned, told him he was weak, but the news from Angeline that her father was improving was good enough for now.

  During their last moments in the courtroom, the seconds where she had flung her arms around his neck, Angeline promised to visit him every week.

  “No.”

  Angeline shook her head as he cupped her chin in his hands and smiled into her wide, green eyes.

  “I don’t want you to see me like that,” he said.

  “But—”

  “Please, Angel?”

  Her shoulders sagged as she accepted her own sentence. Kane asked her to stay away until the moment of his release. When he saw her next, there would be no barriers, no fear. Reluctantly Angeline agreed to the terms and let him go.

  ***

  Five years. It felt like a thousand lifetimes without her, but now it was time. It was his moment of freedom, and Kane was more than ready to take her back into his arms.

  His Angel.

  Kane stepped through the prison gate, his eyes darting in every direction. He didn’t see Angeline. He saw no Blood Brother ready to bring him back into the fold.

  He only saw Jeremy, his actual brother, wearing a suit and tie. He hesitated for a second before taking hold of Kane’s arm.

  “Good to see you,” Jeremy said. “You… you look okay.”

  Even as is felt like a lie, Kane fell into his brother’s embrace. Jeremy knew nothing of laying his life on the line. He was a CPA. But he had visited on a monthly basis, and when Kane asked him to check in and report back on Angeline, he returned with the news that her father just kept getting better. So it had all been worth it, and as they sped away from the prison, Kane asked if she was waiting, thrilled at the reality of his release.

  Jeremy just held the wheel tighter and hit the gas. Kane took note of his clenched jaw and saw his knuckles grow white.

  “Jem?” he asked. “Where is she?

  Jeremy brought the car to a curb, sighing as he hit the brake.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Angie? You okay, honey?”

  Snapping out of a daydream, the same fantasy that played in her mind in a continuous loop, the one that would never come true, Angeline Wilkins turned away from the sink. With the water still running, her hands dripping, she saw her father sitting over his finished dinner. He carelessly tapped his fork against the edge of the plate as he stared at her under bushy brows, his weary gaze full of worry.

  “Angie?” he asked again.

  “What? Oh. It’s nothing, Dad. I’m just… tired.”

  Exhausted was more like it. Angeline hadn’t slept, truly slept, in five years.

  “Well, here,” Brent Wilkins said as he started to struggle to his feet. Pushing up from the table, Brent grunted as he rose. His cane rested against the cupboard. She had moved it, thinking only of her own desire to sit and pick at her food. In her haze, Angeline had failed to return it to his side. Now with his legs needing, Angeline forgot the running water as she hurried towards him.

  “Dad—”

  “I’m good,” he said as he waved her off. Angeline held back. It was good for him try things on his own, and the physical therapist always said that babying him was the worst kind of help. So she stayed still, biting down on her tongue as he gained his footing
and started to limp.

  “See?” he said. “Almost as good as new.”

  He was walking. Shuffling really, but it was still progress.

  “Now since you washed,” he started, “Let’s say I—”