Kyle, Jack and Ryan:: Devil Souls Motorcycle Club Novellas

by Ashers, LeAnn

  Now if the prospects were doing their job, this wouldn’t have happened. But I want to end this, so if I have to play victim for that to happen?

  So be it.

  I allow him to take me to the car, putting up enough fight so it doesn’t look like I’m going freely. He doesn’t know that I have a little bitty pistol in my boot and a small knife under my boob.

  He throws me into the back seat way too hard for someone who is barely fighting. That’s another strike on his very long list.

  Jackson is going to be so pissed when he finds out what happened to me. I do feel kind of shitty that I’m doing this willingly in a way.

  I just want it over, and Jean is no damsel.

  * * *

  Jackson

  My phone rings at the clubhouse and I take it out, expecting it to be Jean calling me, but it’s Chrystal. I know in a split second that something is wrong.

  “What happened?” I demand, already heading to the front door.

  Chrystal is sobbing and I put it on speaker. “I can’t find her! She went to the dressing room but she’s not there.” She is hysterical.

  Kyle has a look of pain on his face, but I can’t breathe, my chest hurts. I’m so numb. I take off to my bike, driving to the place that she was at. Maybe it was a mistake?

  I can barely drive. My hands are shaking so bad I can barely grip the handle bars. Please, god, let it be a mistake.

  If it’s not? Hell hath no fury like a devil whose woman has been taken.

  * * *

  Jean

  I pretend-sob all the way to wherever Gary’s taking me, which isn’t far. We’ve barely been in the car for five minutes when he stops outside of an abandoned house.

  I lean back in the seat, trying to kick out at him with little effort as he rips open the door and tries to grab me.

  If he truly believes me then he is more stupid than I was led to believe, because I kicked his ass already once with just a dildo.

  I stumble along as he pulls me inside. He throws me down into a seat and ties me, barely. I can twist my wrist around in the knots.

  Did I mention that my daddy taught me how to get out of every single kind of kidnapping situation?

  Gary is so stupid I almost feel sorry for him and this pitiful excuse of a job he’s doing. He runs to the front of the abandoned building, slamming the door shut.

  He slowly turns to look at me, trying to be dramatic and intimidate me. It’s almost laughable.

  I let the fake tears run down my face. “Finally I’ve gotten you back, honey, are you okay? Did he force you to do anything?” he rushes out so fast that it makes my head spin.

  Okay, he is worse off than I ever imagined. Does he really think that I wasn’t with Jackson intentionally?

  Gary stumbles closer and I try not to throw up in his face. It truly makes me sick that I was actually with him.

  I shudder at the fact. I really had some whiskey goggles on or something.

  “Oh thank you for rescuing me!” I gush out, acting like I’m so relieved.

  Gary smiles happily. “I knew you missed me.” He steps closers and I try to look innocent and happy.

  I don’t have an innocent bone in my body.

  “Oh yes I did, Gary boy,” I cry, shaking my head side to side like I’m crying but I’m really laughing.

  This is hilarious.

  Are you telling me that people have stressed over this stupid motherfucker? Because I feel kind of stupid right now.

  “There there.” He makes a shushing sound, trying to soothe me and stop me from crying. Bitch, these are tears of freaking joy.

  “I can forgive what I witnessed, what he did to you on that bike of his.” I can hear the disgust in his voice.

  Well shit, he witnessed that?

  At least he finally saw what it looks like when a woman orgasms. “I’m sure you had no choice. Now let me get this off of you.” He takes out a knife and moves to cut my binds.

  My head snaps up, a grin on my face. His expression changes to one of shock. “I don’t think so, fucker.” I kick out at him, hitting him in the knee, and I stand up, the rope falling to the ground.

  I bend over and grab my gun from my boot. “Get your ass in the chair.” My hand is steady as I aim it at him. I have my safety on.

  He does as he is told, his eyes full of fury. I spot duct tape on the counter, which is going to do just fine.

  “If you move, I will blow your brains out.”

  He nods and just allows me to put duct tape on him. I use the whole roll. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

  I take out my phone that he never even bothered to take from me, and his eyes widen once he sees it.

  “You’re so stupid. I faked the whole thing so I can get rid of you once and for all.”

  I watch as a hundred different emotions show on his face. He realizes that he’s caught and that these are probably his last moments on earth.

  I don’t think I would have it in me to kill him, but I’m going to make him wish that he was. I know Jackson can follow through.

  I dial Jackson, who answers almost instantly. “Jean?!” he says frantically. My heart fractures at the sound of him so scared.

  “I’m okay, baby. He’s taken me to the abandoned house right outside of town behind the T mart. He’s the stupidest kidnapper ever. I have him tied up with duct tape,” I rush out so I can settle his nerves.

  He does the unthinkable: he laughs. “Fuck, baby, I am so mad at you. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” He doesn’t hang up the phone. I put it on speakerphone and set it down on the counter.

  Jackson addresses Gary. “So you’re going to answer all of my questions. If not you’re going to wish that you listened to me.”

  He doesn’t respond but just watches me. “What happened to the girls that are missing?”

  At that Gary grins. “They didn’t listen to me. I had to correct the problem,” he says so easily, like he’s talking about checking the mail.

  I take my knife out and spot his hand and I sit down on the ground. I grin as I start to make small little cuts on his hands, until every single patch of skin is covered.

  Then I walk into the kitchen, humming, finding different things that will cause pain. Rubbing salt into the wound? That seems fitting right now.

  I sit back down. “You know it’s ironic, you’ll be the next missing person but no one will ever find you. I will make sure you are in pieces. You will be pig shit. Like the piece of shit you are.”

  I pour the salt over his hand, rubbing harder and harder, making sure to grind it deeply into his cuts.

  He starts to scream and tries to back away from me. I laugh because he sounds like a pig. “You sound exactly what you’re going to be lunch for,” I taunt him.

  “I think you’ll look better with ear piercing, don’t you think?” I spot a nail on the floor. I’m sure it’s really dull, but with enough force that shit won’t matter.

  I walk up behind him and slowly push the nail through his ear. “You tortured me for a month, this is nothing!” I yell.

  “I am going to kill you, rape you and do so many bad things to you!” he spits out, and he stops halfway through his rant, his eyes wide, when Jackson fills the room along with his brothers in the MC.

  What I mean by filling the room is his anger fills every single crevice. “Oh please continue, tell me what you had planned for my woman.” Jackson says, slowly walking towards him, then grips Gary’s throat. “Tell me!” he roars in his face.

  “I was going to use her over and over until her body just gives out. She is mine and she will always be mine.” Gary taunts him, and my stomach filled with disgust.

  Jackson smiles sadistically. “Good answer.” Then he turns to look at me. “Look away, sweet girl.”

  I turn away, then bam, then the sound of nothing. I turn around to see brain splatting the floor behind Gary, a single hole in the center of his forehead.

  Jackson reaches out and takes me, pulling me to
him. “Did you really put fucking salt in his wound?” He looks to the ground at the salt spilled there.

  “Kind of ironic, isn’t it? Too bad he didn’t have a dildo, huh?” I wink at Jackson.

  Everyone in the room laughs. The story is a legend with the guys.

  We all leave, leaving him there for the rats, bugs and the other creatures.

  We never speak of what happened again, leaving the past in the past.

  Another person’s crazy is another person’s normal.

  Ours is a little of both.

  Epilogue

  Eighteen Years later

  “Trixie, where is your brother?” I ask her once I get home from grocery shopping. She’s doing her homework on the dining room table.

  She looks at me, both eyebrows arched. “How am I supposed to know? Keeping up with him is definitely not something I like to do.” She curls her mouth in disgust.

  Dear Jesus, give me the strength. She is eleven years old but she has the attitude of someone who is much older.

  Karma is a bitch.

  I give her my mom glare until she relents. “Last time I saw him he was walking towards the guest house.”

  “Thank you, baby.” I kiss the top of her head.

  I walk out to the guest house that Matthew has pretty much moved into because he thinks he is a grown man and needs his space.

  I grab the door handle and throw it open. “Matthew, I need you to help me carry this table.” I stop dead in my tracks as the image in front of me is branded deep into my mind, never leaving me.

  My child, my baby boy, on the ground, his face buried between Morgan’s legs—Morgan is the daughter of our friends—and Trenton Torch’s son’s face deep in her tits.

  I don’t speak.

  I turn around, shut the door, and walk back into the house, forgetting the table.

  What the fuck is happening?

  My child walks into the house like I just didn’t witness what I just witnessed. “What did you mean, Mom?” He grins, looking so much like his father it’s sickening.

  “Lock the door next time, yeah?” I grumble.

  “Sorry, Mom,” he says, laughing slightly, totally unfazed. “I love youuu,” he says in a sweet tone, acting much younger than his seventeen years.

  “If you come over here and touch me, I will stab you with this fork!” I scream when he gets too close to me.

  He falls to the ground laughing.

  How will I ever survive?

  Jackson walks into the house and takes in the scene. He looks to Trixie but she’s just as confused as to what’s happening.

  “What the fuck?”

  Matthew laughs harder. “Mom walked in on us,” he manages to get out through his fits. I will never be the same again.

  Jackson laughs and walks over, wrapping his arms around me. “My baby isn’t a baby anymore,” I cry as that fact hits me. Then Matthew starts over again and I pick up the fork.

  He holds his hands up, smiling.

  I close my eyes and groan into Jackson’s chest.

  “You’re lucky I love you, Matty.”

  He smiles happily, his dad’s smile. “I love you too, Mom. Thank you for accepting the fact…you know,” he says simply.

  I jolt at what he’s saying. “Of course, baby, I’d support you no matter what in life.” Not crossed out anymore, I hug him. “Touch me with your hands and you will die!” I scream when he tries to wrap his arms around me.

  That sets them off laughing again.

  God help me.

  Prologue

  Myra

  I’m so glad to be finally off of work. This day has been long. I had two women go into labor today at almost exactly the same time, which is rare.

  That also means that my babysitter had to stay longer than she planned—it’s almost time for my baby Mia to go to bed.

  Mia is eighteen months old and she is the best thing that ever happened to me. She’s my everything.

  My ex-boyfriend got caught up with drugs and he didn’t want anything to do with her, so I made him sign his rights over. It was as simple as that.

  She’s all mine. I’m a single mother and it’s hard, but I would not change a thing.

  I feel like a shitty mother because I have to work so much—the mom guilt is real. It doesn’t help that women mom-shame all of the time, but I have to take care of her. That’s the most important thing and I am beyond thankful that I can provide that for her.

  I walk up the walkway to my house and I put the key in the lock, but much to my surprise, it just opens.

  Okay, I’m going to have to talk to the babysitter about that. She’s supposed to have the door locked and the alarm set when she’s here.

  I don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.

  I step inside the house and I find it completely silent, which is weird. Having a boisterous eighteen-month-old usually means a noisy home.

  I turn the corner and every single part of my body freezes at the sight before me. There’s a man standing above my babysitter Debbie, pointing a gun straight at her face, and my beautiful baby is sitting beside her, her eyes wide.

  Oh my god.

  Without hesitation, I take out my gun. I always carry one with me. My purse scrapes against the wall, making a sound that could be an explosion in this so-very-silent house.

  The man’s eyes widen and I notice the cut on his jacket. He’s the son of the Satans Rejects President.

  His gun moves from Debbie straight to my daughter. “No!” I yell, getting his attention, and I raise my gun, just as he points his at me.

  Got you.

  I pull the trigger, hitting him in the middle of his stomach before he can take a shot at me. He falls to the floor and I run over, taking his gun away from him before he can do anything else.

  I’m not sure I’m even breathing. My heart hurts and I’m so terrified, I barely manage to take out my phone and dial 911. I scoop up my daughter, who clings to me, her little body shaking.

  This is all too much. He had a gun on my baby! The thought of something ever happening to her…it steals the air from my lungs.

  I carry her out of the house into the front yard in case he isn’t dead and gathers some superhuman strength to get up.

  I don’t even bother checking on the babysitter. I don’t give a fuck about her at this point because I have a feeling in my gut that this happened because of her.

  She stumbles out onto the porch, falling to her knees and trying to catch her breath. I get inside of my car in case I need to make a run for it, waiting for the police and ambulance to show up.

  Hours, minutes later, I don’t even know how long it is, but they finally show up. I get out of my car and explain what’s going on, and they run inside of the house to check on the man lying there.

  The babysitter backs up my story but she adds in her own—she owed the man money and he came to take it one way or another.

  I eye the bitch. I’m pissed. I trusted her to take care of my baby—the most precious thing in my life.

  Hours later the police leave, leaving me alone in my house. I don’t want to stay here anymore considering what happened. I’ll start looking for a new place tomorrow. The quicker I’m out of here, the better.

  Mia climbs into my bed and I don’t resist. I want my baby close with me tonight. I close my eyes and command myself to fall asleep. I’ll worry about everything tomorrow.

  * * *

  I drop Mia off at my mother’s house for a few hours. Today my rage isn’t any better. Actually I think it’s worse because I’ve had time to think on it.

  I have one purpose in mind today and that is to track down Debbie, my babysitter.

  I pull up in front of her house. I’ve never been here before and I see it’s run-down, way more than I expected it to be for someone who gets paid very well to watch my girl.

  I walk up to her front porch, pounding my fist on the door. I can hear her running to open it.

/>   Debbie looks out the small window next to her door before unlocking it and I push her inside of her house.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, taking a few steps away from me, looking confused.

  I slip my purse off of my shoulder onto the floor, and her eyes follow my movements as I throw my hair into a bun next.

  “I’m here to beat your ass,” I deadpan.

  Her eyes widen in disbelief. She turns around, trying to run out of the room, but I catch her by her hair, pulling her back to me.

  She tries to pry my hands from her hair, falling down to her knees. “Please, don’t do this,” she begs, tears in her eyes.

  I want to feel sorry for her, but I can’t muster that emotion. My baby is my everything and she put her in danger.

  “Tell me why this happened then! You could have killed my baby!” I yell in her face, tightening my grip in her hair.

  “I borrowed money from them when I shouldn’t have. I didn’t think not paying them back would result in that. I thought they were just empty threats,” Debbie whispers, trying to make herself as small as possible.

  “Still doesn’t change the fact I’m going to beat your ass,” I laugh, and pull her head back with a snap of her hair, I bring my fist down once, twice, three times before I let her fall to the ground, disgusted by her.

  “Now I feel better. If I see you again, I won’t stop next time.” I glare at her and she nods her head in understanding.

  I pick up my purse off the ground, slamming the door behind me as I walk out to my car.

  A guy on a motorcycle drives past, and I stop in my tracks when I spot the patch on the back. Satan’s Rejects.

  Oh shit.

  I get in my car, locking the door behind me. Goose bumps break out across my skin. That’s not a good thing, I think to myself, especially after what happened.