by Nia Farrell
Mad Dog started with taking home Miss High and Mighty Krissy Castellari. “Goddamn girl was like a leech. She wouldn’t let anyone else take her home. Her uncle aside, I was more worried about her dad, and what he might be packing when I pulled up with his daughter, fucking plastered on my back in borrowed clothes. Sam, Dylan, and Ritchie rode shotgun, just in case. Little bitch made us swear to keep quiet about where she’d been, or else she’d tell everyone that Rose was gang banging the Demons. Just so you know, rumor has it that Krissy spent the night with the four McLanahan brothers, and nobody’s saying shit to deny it.”
It was rare that she saw her brother pissed. He was one of the most level-headed, clear-thinking men on the planet, but he was not happy with what was essentially blackmail.
“Good thing her Uncle Giovanni knows the truth. At least I don’t have to watch my back there.”
“I’m sorry,” Michael told him. “I had no way of knowing she’d be like that. But if Visconti hadn’t hired me to look for her, I wouldn’t have found Rose. And Luke? Now that I’ve found her, I’m keeping her. We didn’t plan for things to go the way they did. I was prepared to keep her safe. I wasn’t expecting to fall for her, but I did. As soon as she knows that your mom will be okay, Rose is moving in with me. I’d rather have your blessing, but either way, it’s happening.”
“Fuck.” Mad Dog heaved a sigh. “Princess? Is that what you want? To move in together?”
Rose hugged Michael’s leg, smiled, and nodded.
“Words, princess,” Michael told her. “He needs to hear it.”
“Yes, Sir. Yes, Luke. It’s what we both want. But even after I’m moved, I’ll be around, just not underfoot. I still have school to finish, and I plan to keep the Angels’ books, same as I’ve been doing, if they still want me to.”
“Fuck, yeah!” He managed to crook half a smile. “I don’t trust anyone else with club business. And you better finish school. It’s been your dream. You drop out, and someone’s gonna answer.”
He leveled a look at Michael.
“She’ll finish,” Michael said. “We’re close enough to Carbondale, she can commute to SIU when she’s done with community college here. She has a job with the club that she can continue for as long as she wants. All I ask is, don’t get her caught up in anything that could land her in jail. I’m only an associate, but I’ve heard enough of what goes on to know that not everything’s aboveboard. Get her in too deep, and I’ll pull her out. She is not going down with the ship, comprende?”
“Understood. I’d be the same way with my woman. If I had a woman. Which I don’t.”
Mad Dog did smile then.
“Yet.” Michael sifted his fingers through her hair. “It’ll happen when you least expect it. Now, want to fill us in on what’s been done?”
Mad Dog’s lips flattened. “We took Krissy back to her folks. Her mom cried, her little sister blushed, her dad wasn’t packing. The four of us came back here and started prepping to go to war. Except Visconti beat us to it. First hit was on the four Demons who took Rose and Krissy. The police recovered a girl in their van. She hadn’t had anything done to her yet, but she was bound and gagged and would have been dead from the heat if they hadn’t found her when they did. We heard that Visconti brought in outsiders for the job, to keep the local boys’ noses clean. But it’s kept ours clean, too—or cleaner, anyway.”
“That was late Saturday night,” Michael said.
“Right. Sunday, we were ordered by Visconti to stand down. That did not fucking sit well with the Angels at church. But we had to admit, he had just cause—and again, the more they did, the less we’d have to. No one here was looking forward to disposing of bodies or tending the wounded. We heard next to nothing that day. It was fucking intense. The sweetbutts were sore as hell by the afternoon, and we still had a whole night of nervous energy to burn off.
“Then Monday came. A pre-dawn raid on the Demons that was fucking epic. Visconti waited until after Sig and his crew were back from Minnesota so he could get the most bang for his buck. His guys took out enough members to cripple them. They killed Sig but Reaper survived, and that was their mistake. Even with reduced ranks, he was dangerous as fuck and out for blood. Trouble was, he blamed us for the raid, and we had nothing to do with it. But we sat tight, like we were told…until word came that the Demons planned counterstrikes, starting with the strip club. Well, you know Jelly Bean. He’s got the sweets for Candy. You remember her? Pink hair and bubble gum? Likes to sing to her soundtrack like its fucking karaoke?”
Michael cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. I remember Candy.”
So, Michael went to their strip club.
Rose felt a flare of jealousy and tamped it down. Before she entered the picture, Michael and Mad Dog kept company. They were best friends and brothers in arms, but Luke was always the leader. Of course, he’d drag Michael to the strip club.
“So, it’s back to church,” her brother continued. “This time, it’s fuck Visconti. We gotta take care of our own. We go out to the strip club, loaded for bear, and get in a firefight with the Demons. Turned out, there were only two. They kept us busy until they couldn’t. But while the bullets are still flying, you call and tell me mom’s been taken. They lured us there to leave the compound vulnerable. The bastards broke in, met resistance, and neutralized it. Five men down. Three forever. Sorry, Rose, but we lost Lurch, Ratchet, and Knuckles. Iceman and Brick are wearing red badges and getting all the T and sympathy they can handle from the sweetbutts.”
“Tea and sympathy?” Rose asked, confused. The club sluts weren’t normally so refined.
“T,” Mad Dog drawled. “As in tush, or tits, depending on if a man wants to feel ‘em up, or if he’s feeling up for more. Anyway, we came back to a helluva mess. Five casualties plus our MIA, Mama Mare. And we fucking wait again.”
“Sorry,” Michael told him. “We needed help that Visconti could get us quicker than anyone else I could think of. I’m out of the loop on who works for a price and can be trusted. Visconti had already been screening candidates to replace his late head of security. Turned out, he even had him hired, just not relocated. He was away from home when the call came. He had to get back to his equipment before he could triangulate the call and figure out her location. Where was she being held?”
“An old farmhouse. Lived in until recently, so the contents were there, just no occupants. Some of Visconti’s boys came along as backup. We had to walk in, like we did at their safehouse when we got Rose. Reaper and the last four Demons were holed up inside with Mama Mare. When the smoke had cleared, four Demons were dead, one of the Viscontis was hit, and two more of ours, plus Uncle Jack. Mama had her hands full, trying to keep him from bleeding out. Shotgun had stayed in the cage where we parked. He came as soon as I called. We hauled out the wounded. Left Visconti’s man at his SUV and raced Jack to the nearest hospital. Doc’s call,” he added.
Doc had been a combat medic in Afghanistan. He was the closest thing to an M.D. that the Angels had.
“Jack made it through surgery, but he’s not out of the clear yet. Papa Bear’s with him right now. He insisted. Made Mama stay here and wait for you to come. He knew that you would need each other more.”
“Thank you,” Rose managed, struggling to process it all.
“And Rose?” Mad Dog added meaningfully. “Bobcat had a bullet take off part of his ear. Dylan got winged. Nothing serious, but the sweetbutts are all over him, and I know how you love that shit.”
Dylan. Their brother. Another reason for Mama to be here rather than the hospital. There, she could only watch. Here, she’d be kept busy, helping where she could.
“You said four Demons were dead. But there were five, with Reaper.”
Mad Dog’s jaw clenched. His face grew flushed with anger—a rare sight on her oldest brother. “Reaper got away,” he grated. “But he’s the only fucking one. His son is dead. The club is destroyed.”
“But he’s out there.” Rose turned her t
roubled eyes to Michael. “Reaper’s out there,” she repeated. “He’ll be a threat as long as he’s alive. Oh, Michael!”
“It will be okay, princess. He’s going to crawl away and lick his wounds. There’s nothing else he can do. He’s got no club, no friends, and no family, now that Sig’s gone. We’ll keep you safe, you and your mom. There’s no fucking way that he’s going to get his hands on either one of you.” Michael looked at Mad Dog, his best friend for almost twenty-two years. “Right, bro?”
“Damn straight,” Mad Dog growled. “No fucking way he’s going to touch you. Visconti put a bounty on his head. You can bet he’ll be history soon enough.”
Rose was able to breathe again. With the Mafia after him, he wouldn’t dare to show himself, and he sure as hell wouldn’t last long. Bottom line? They were not going to live the rest of their lives, looking over their shoulders. It wasn’t a matter of if but when.
“Thank you, Sir. Thanks, Luke.”
“Mama’s had her hands full since we brought her back to the clubhouse. I’m not sure if she’s just holding up that well, or if there’s nothing extra there to angst over. We need to keep an eye on her, though, just in case. She was kidnapped. She’s seen casualties. She helped save Jack’s life after he was hit. You were taken, and Dylan was wounded. That’s a helluva lot of trauma for a person.”
Rose turned to Michael again. “It sounds like I’d better stay here, at least for tonight. I can help Mama in the kitchen. Keep an eye on her. Watch for signs. You could stay, too. With me.” She felt her cheeks pink, just saying it in front of her brother. “Your computers are in my closet. We can bring the clothes in, too. If you need to go home, I understand.”
Michael bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll need to check on things, but, yeah, I like your plan. I’ll unpack the SUV and take our things to your room. Mama Mare seemed tickled as shit when I told her I was crazy about you. I’m pretty sure she won’t have a problem with us staying together. Your brothers, though….”
“Will deal with it,” Mad Dog rumbled. “She’s our baby sister, for fuck’s sake. It’s gonna be weird as shit at first, watching the two of you.”
Rose grinned. “Welcome to my world, Luke. Only mine is times four, when you guys decide to keep it in the lounge rather than take it to your rooms. Not that it makes any difference to the sweetbutts, but it’s awkward as hell for me.”
Mad Dog swiped a hand across his face. “Fuck,” he breathed. “God damn it, Rose. Is that why you’re always buggering off? Working nights when we’re here? I thought that was because you could get more done, without having everyone around to interrupt you.”
“Well, there’s that, too,” she said slowly. “But it’s mostly to get out of the clubhouse when you guys are there. I’ve watched shit that I can’t forget. I sure as hell don’t need to see more.”
“You won’t be working late nights alone anymore,” Michael said firmly. “If you can’t do the books during business hours, I’ll go with you, or we’ll find a way to have you work from home. There’s no way in hell I’m going to leave my baby vulnerable like she was at Angel Ink,” he told Michael. “Speaking of which, that fucking Flynn better keep his hands to himself or he’s gonna find himself in a world of hurt. He’s lucky that I left him standing after touching Rose.”
“Aw.” Rose met Michael’s gaze and warmed at the passion that blazed in his brilliant blue eyes. “I don’t think that will be a problem. When I knelt for you, that made it pretty fucking clear that I belong to you.”
Michael’s brow knit. “That potty mouth just earned you another spanking,” he growled. “We’ll unload the car first, but after that, your ass is mine. I’m feeling generous. Public or private—I’ll let you choose.”
Rose glanced at Mad Dog, who was shaking his tawny head. “Wouldn’t want to traumatize my brothers with the sight of my bare ass bent over your thighs, Sir. I think I need a private session…in my room. Luke, do you have a kerchief that we can borrow?”
“Jesus, Rose!”
Michael rubbed his short beard, which he kept the perfect length for eating pussy. “Never mind. We’ll improvise. Maybe the bottoms from your black lace set?”
“Jesus, Crash!”
The three of them looked at each other and laughed. Rose was back. Mama Mare was here. The Blackwater Demons were gone, and the Avenging Angels MC had triumphed. There was a ton of work ahead to rebuild what had been destroyed, and a lot of healing to be done, on every level—physically, mentally, and spiritually.
If she’d felt like a square peg before, the events of the past week had rounded her edges to an imperfect but more comfortable fit. She was born an Angel. She had the club, she had her family, and now she had Michael.
She had longed for a more normal life. But instead of trying to make it alone in Champaign or Springfield or Chicago, she’d be sharing Michael’s home, working by day and pleasing him each night, finding their way as a couple and hopefully, eventually, as a family.
He had found her.
He was keeping her.
Thanks to Michael O’Flaherty, Rose’s dearest dream was finally within her grasp.
Author’s Biography
Nia Farrell is the author of one of The 50 Best Indie Books of 2016, a 2016 Golden Flogger Finalist, and a founding member of the Wicked Pens. A multi-genre writer published in nonfiction, poetry, music, articles, and children’s books, with one documentary screenplay under her literary belt, she’s an old soul and a period reenactor who’s been into corsets for centuries, although she wears them more to Civil War events these days.
Nia has been involved in the metaphysical community for over twenty-five years. She is a Reiki Master and crystal healer whose work encompasses this and other lifetimes. In her book Something More, BDSM and submission are tools for healing post-rape PTSD, earning a nomination for Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category, in the 2016 Golden Flogger Awards.
Her debut books from The Three Graces series, Something Else, Something Different, and Something More, are kink with a paranormal twist. Soul mates, reincarnation, karmic fallout, shamanism, and psychic abilities come into play. Personal experience and extensive research go into crafting her characters, but it’s her sense of whimsy that has made fictional Posey, Minnesota, the ménage capital of the United States, with a Monty-Python-inspired diner that’s central to the plotlines.
Nia was fortunate enough to meet her soul mate early on. She married her high school sweetheart, raised two children, and began writing at her husband’s suggestion. She has been published in erotic romance since 2015.
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NIA FARRELL TITLES
Something Else (The Three Graces Book One). Three soulmates forge a future from the flames of their pasts in an interracial New Age New Adult MMF ménage BDSM erotic romance. “It’s
part paranormal, part BDSM, part love story, but all good.” Released August 25, 2015. Length 17,872 words.
Teasers and excerpt at http://bit.ly/SomethingElseWP
Amazon buy link http://mybook.to/TG1
Something Different (The Three Graces Book Two). Starving artist Anna James has sworn off men. Rock gods Jackson and Jacob Thomason just promised her the best sex of her life. Does Anna dare submit to the part-Comanche twins who perform as No Mercy? Released September 29, 2015. Length 17,235 words.
Teasers and except at http://bit.ly/SomethingDifferentWP
Amazon buy link http://mybook.to/TG2
Something More (The Three Graces Book Three) Finalist for Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category, 2016 Golden Flogger Awards. Rachel Givens is supposed to be dead. She has post-rape PTSD and a three-year-old autistic daughter, father unknown. When her former lovers—a biker and a porn star—walk into the restaurant where she works, this single mother learns just how much more she can handle. Release October 15, 2015. Length 18,613 words.
Teasers and excerpt http://bit.ly/SomethingMoreWP
Amazon buy link http://mybook.to/TG3
The Three Graces Trilogy (paperback) includes Something Else, Something Different, and Something More. Welcome to fictional Posey, Minnesota, the ménage capital of the USA and home of the Three Graces—three young women whose names all mean “Grace.” Three women. Six men. Things are about to get interesting. Released April 2, 2016. Length 230 6x9 pages.
Amazon buy link http://mybook.to/TGr
Something Special (The Three Graces Book Six—the sequel to Something Else). When morning sickness hits the house, a Dominant veteran with PTSD and an American Indian musician propose to give their psychic submissive a very special honeymoon. They’re giving Grace the capture fantasy of her dreams at Replay, a BDSM theme resort where patrons role play in the past. Released May 5, 2016. Length 21,578 words/105 5x8 pages. Nominated Best Erotica and Best Romance, 2016 Summer Indie Book Awards.