Demented Sons Series Volume One: Books 1-4 (Demented Sons MC Iowa)

by Kristine Allen

  In the last several months, we had developed into a comfortable arrangement. We were pretty much together, but we both were still holding back. He would swing by to pick me up when he was on his way to work on the days we worked the same shift. That way Matt could have the car for school. Every so often, he stayed the night, but neither of us had mentioned moving in together. Part of me felt he was afraid he would scare me away; the other part of me was sure he was waiting for me to bring it up when I was ready.

  That was the thing though. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I would ever be ready. Once bitten, twice shy and all.

  His hand caressed my face, and his firm lips brushed against mine. Absently, my hands went to his shoulders, sliding up his neck to sift through the back of his medium-cropped hair. He was such a great guy, and I counted myself lucky that he had been so good to me. Not just anyone would be willing to step into the shoes another man discarded so carelessly. He had been my mental saving grace over the last few months. He had also helped heal my shattered heart. He carefully gathered up the jagged pieces and gently fitted them together as best as he could.

  Yes, there were gaps. Yes, I was still fragile and broken, but with his help I was mending as best as I could.

  I had pushed the raw pain into a safe little compartment, but it slipped out at the thought of Erik. No matter how hard I tried, and despite how much he had hurt me, I couldn’t forget him or get over him. Probably another reason why I hadn’t solidified things with Hunter. It didn’t seem fair to Hunter, when I had such a small piece of my heart left to offer. It was like cheating him.

  Hunter was so damn beautiful and so damn good—as in he was an amazingly giving and caring person. Any girl would be lucky to have him. I was lucky to have him.

  “Kassi, we need to go. God, I wish we didn’t.” He growled out the words against my kiss-swollen lips. Oh, and he was such a good kisser.

  Knowing he was right, I let out a frustrated sigh.

  “Fine, but we’re picking this back up when we get home. After I make supper anyway.” No one told me being pregnant made you horny as hell. Then again, it wasn’t like I had a lot of choices of insightful pregnancy mentors. No matter how turned on I was by him though, food came first. Tonight, I was making spaghetti. Oh, and garlic bread, because… yeah… carbs. Hey, a girl had to have priorities.

  His lips tipped up at the edges before he leaned forward to give me a quick peck on the tip of my nose. Lord, this man was so easy to love. And I did. I did love him, but it was just a different kind of love. My heart just needed to heal, and I prayed in time I could fall truly and deeply in love with him—as in love with him as I was with my baby’s father.

  “Let’s get going before we’re late, baby. Don’t you have your appointment over your lunch today?”

  “Yeah, Dr. Porter is coming down to the ED to see me.” Perks of being a nurse in the same small hospital where your doctor worked. She made “ward calls” when she was able. She had arranged to see me right before she had a scheduled induction at the hospital, and she said she needed to talk to me about something. Win for me because I didn’t have to waste a day off going to the doctor’s office just for a monthly checkup. Everything seemed to be going well—umm well, except for this fluid retention because I loved salt so damn much—so I wasn’t worried it was something bad she needed to discuss.

  Standing up and holding his hand out to help me heft my large ass out of the chair, Hunter pulled me to standing and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. Well, as close as one can get with a rather large abdomen protruding between us.

  “So, have you settled on any names for him? Or are you still going over your list of twenty-five names?” Such an exaggeration… There were only about, ohhh… twenty first names.

  “Actually, yes, I have. I’ve narrowed it down to three. Okay, maybe four. But it’s a surprise.” Regardless of the blatant disregard for his soon-to-be child, I prayed daily that someday Erik would want something to do with his son. That was the driving force behind giving my baby boy his father’s name as his middle name. That meant my choices were Sebastian Erik, Jakob Erik, Beckham Erik, and Alexander Erik. But I couldn’t share that with Hunter without him asking about the significance of “Erik,” since it was the middle name for all of them.

  “Oh, come on… don’t I get a say so?” He was joking, but the question threw the metaphoric bucket of cold water over my mood. Pasting a smile on my face, I just laughed, kissed him, and gently extricated myself from his hold. Using the excuse of grabbing my work tote and looking to make sure I had my lunch, clipboard, stethoscope, bandage scissors, tape, hemostat, and all my other “what-if” supplies packed, I turned my back to him. My inhaled breath was uneven.

  Hunter wanted to step up to the plate as a father figure to my baby. I knew he did. It just seemed so disloyal to Erik, despite his coldhearted treatment of me. Why was the heart so foolish in who it loved? Composing my features, I turned back to him with a bright smile.

  “Okay, I have everything. You ready?” Looking into his eyes, I knew he regretted mentioning having any input. It was almost an unspoken rule with us that he treaded lightly in regards to the baby. It was foolish of me to hold back with him on this. Deep down, I knew it was me who needed to decide where our relationship went from here, because he was obviously all in. That was so damn difficult for me, and it shouldn’t be.

  “Yeah, babe, I’m ready. Here, let me get your bag.” He extricated the handles from my fingers and slung it over his shoulder. His smile was still as beautiful, but the light in his eyes had dimmed. Now I felt like shit. He was never anything but good to me.

  Following him out the door, I mentally began to prep for work. Thankfully, I still had a job. Tom had been extremely understanding when I broke down and told him about my situation. He had agreed to play it by ear, and as long as there were no complications with my pregnancy and my OB said I was clear to work, then I would have a job. The moment that changed, we would have to reevaluate. Luckily, everything had gone textbook perfect so far, and I had completed the Trauma Nurse certification with flying colors.

  The ride to work was uneventful, and we settled into the typical routine for the night. My appointment with Dr. Porter, my OB, had gone okay. She was mostly concerned about my fluid retention, slightly elevated levels of protein in my urine, and my hypertension. So we were watching me for preeclampsia. Yay.

  Hunter had been busy all night with some college kids who had been in a car accident who were suffering from the typical aches, pains, and one had a broken arm. Two of my patients were siblings and were there for fever and cough. Gotta love spring cold season. The other was a guy who had caught his hand in a table saw and was lucky to still have a hand. Dr. Morris was stitching him up as I assisted. He was just putting in the final suture when the trauma notification system went off on the overhead page system.

  “Thought tonight was too good to be true. Well, Kass, are you ready for some excitement?” The doc tied the last suture, and I stepped in to clean up the used supplies as he told the patient how to care for the wound and what to watch for.

  We had just gathered outside the ambulance entrance when we heard over the radio, “Twenty-nine-year-old male, code in progress. Cranial injuries. Multiple lacerations. Significant blood loss. Possible fractures to right tibia and fibula. Two minutes out. Be advised.” Shit. It was going to be a busy night.

  If only I had known that night would haunt me for a long time to come.

  “Fake It”—Seether

  THE WEATHER HAD BEEN beautiful lately, and I had been riding my bike every day for almost two months. It was the only thing that gave me peace. Slowly, I had been getting my head straight. Coming clean with my mom had taken a huge burden off my chest. She had cried when I told her everything and couldn’t believe I hadn’t come to them before. When I told her how messed up I had been, and still was, and how I had just needed to get away from everything, she didn’t really understand. Not that I expected her
to, but she was stronger than I anticipated, and she sat and listened. Then she held me as I cried. Like a fucking baby.

  Rolling up to the clubhouse, I saw I wasn’t the only one who had been out enjoying the weather today, if the line of bikes parked in the lot was any sign of all the guys riding that day. There were a couple of the old ladies there with their kids, and I saw Reaper manning the grill under the trees at the side of the building. Today was the monthly family picnic, and since the weather was nice, we had been able to have the last two at the clubhouse, rather than in Reaper’s shop at his place.

  Snow, Vinny, Gunny, and Butch were all sitting with cold beers in their hands shooting the shit. Reload and DJ, the prospects, were refilling the coolers with beer, soda, and juice packs for the kiddos. Joker and Hollywood were standing at the end of the bikes talking, and Joker was sporting his new E-cig. It gave me a chuckle because the first day he showed up with one, he pulled out a lighter out of habit and almost set fire to the damn thing. He was trying so hard to quit smoking, but this was his third attempt in as many months. We all kept encouraging him and telling him it can take a while and not to get down on himself when he fell off the wagon.

  They waved at me as I pulled up and backed into the end of the row. After I parked, I climbed off and walked up to embrace Hollywood and Joker.

  “Hey, bro, nice ride in, wasn’t it? Shit, this damn thing sucks. ¡Esta es una cagada!” Joker looked at the E-cig with distaste as he shook it and looked it over. “Fucking thing isn’t working. Be right back.” He walked off to his bike, presumably to get a different one. He was funny as shit with those things, but I wouldn’t laugh out loud at him because I was proud of him. Nah, that’s not true. I still laughed my ass off at him, but I really was proud as hell of him.

  Hollywood chuckled as Joker walked off, then turned to me. “Thanks for setting up the security system for me at my house. When the old one shit the bed, I thought Becca was going to have conniptions.” His eyes naturally scanned the area until he spotted his wife and son sitting with the other old ladies near the tables covered with food. Everyone was waiting for the items from the grill to be done. The chubby baby boy was flapping his arms as he stood on Becca’s knees and watched Remi, Wyatt, and Dice’s granddaughter, Bella, playing on the ground in the center of their chairs.

  “No problem. I told you I would either fix the old one or hook you up with a new system. Your hardware was all good, but the software was shit. It was an easy fix to upload mine to it, with a few modifications. I’m just glad it gives Becca some peace of mind.” One of the prospects brought me a beer, and I pulled my bottle koozie from the Nautical out and slipped in on before tipping it back. The bitter brew was ice cold and hit the spot. Even though I was a whiskey guy, I enjoyed a cold beer when the weather got nice.

  Glancing around again, as Joker rejoined us, I noted the rest of the brothers were here and spread around the area already. Cash, Two-Speed, Soap, and Smoke were off to the side playing a game of horseshoes. The only ones missing were Pops and Mama Jean because they had already set off in the new toy-hauler RV they had bought to go traveling in. Last we heard, they were on their way to Arizona. I made a mental note to check in with him later to make sure they were okay.

  We made our way over to everyone gathered by the game and the grill, so I could greet my brothers and the family members that were present. Even though I had my blood family, these people here were the ones who helped me get my shit straight when I came back from the Marine Corps. Fuck, I was a hot damn mess then. It was hard to believe I had actually tried to pick a fight with Snow, Gunny, Vinny, and some of the others that first night.

  It had been right after I got home, and I had been drowning my sorrows as they played pool at the Oasis one night. All the shit in my head had been messing with me, and my fucking demons were bearing down on me hard. At that point, I was probably lower than I had been when I ran off and joined the Marines. The rational part of me knew I needed to pull my head out of my ass and fight back, because I had family and friends that loved me, needed me, but there was the wicked, little, whispering voice telling me how worthless I was… what a failure I was… how no one would want me around when they found out all my darkest secrets.

  “You fuckers think you’re badasses with your cute little matching leather vests?” My drunk ass had bumped into one of the guys as he was setting up his shot, and when he stood up and growled at me to watch where the fuck I was going, the alcohol made me brave and my demons made me masochistic.

  “What the fuck did you just say?” They all looked at me like I had lost my ever-loving mind. How right they were. Home on terminal leave from the my six-year enlistment in the Marine Corps, I had deftly lied my way through all my out-processing assessments, just like I had during my redeployment physicals and psych exams. My head was brimming with guilt from Layla to the hostages I had failed on my last mission. Getting the shit beat out of me was a necessary evil, it would seem.

  “Do you know who we are?” Oh, I knew who they were.

  Everyone in town knew who they were.

  The Demented Sons had been in this town as long as I could remember. They were actually a pretty badass group of guys, and they kept the troublemakers and shitheads out of the town. Not only that, but if you messed with one, you were getting them all. So, it was no surprise when I ended up with a wall of leather in my face after my drunken comment.

  Evidently, alcohol helped me become a glutton for punishment. “You fucking heard me. You’re nothing but a bunch of fucking pansy-ass fucktards. Riding around together like you’re something special.” My inebriated poking of the bear continued until finally the Viking, the guy whose turn it had been, reached back and nailed me in the right cheekbone.

  Unable to balance well as it was, the hit knocked me backward into a table, turning it over and landing me flat on my back. My glass went flying, as did the item clenched in my other hand so tight, the prongs had left my palm bleeding.

  The room was spinning, and I swore I saw stars as one of the other guys knelt to pick up the object where it fell near his feet.

  “Gunny, wait!” The Viking he called Gunny had my shirt clenched in one fist and the other drawn back to rain hell on my poor, already swelling cheek. He squatted down and held the item in my face. The purple ribbon and dangling gold heart were coming in and out of focus, as I looked at it with repulsion.

  “Where did you get this? Is it yours?” He continued to hold it out, and the other guys were waiting for my answer as well.

  “Fuck that piece of shit.” The words spat out of my mouth with contempt and the blood pooling in my mouth from the hit I took from the Viking.

  “Answer me, boy. Is. This. Yours?” His tone brooked no argument, and I should have said something smart to allow the dark blond Viking to continue beating the shit out of me, but I was tired. Bone weary, emotionally and mentally done. My eyes closed, and my head fell to the side. Weakness leaked from my eyes to land on the dingy carpet.

  “Yeah. It’s mine.” The words whispered from my lips.

  “Shit.” The Viking let go of my shirt and stood. With his hands clenching and unclenching, he spoke in a deep growl. “What branch?”

  “Marines,” was my tired reply. “Semper fucking Fi.”

  “Jesus.” Several of them murmured.

  The Viking, as I had dubbed him, was Gunny, obviously. Snow was the one who had picked up the Purple Heart Medal I had been grasping. From that day on, they would stop by to check on me as I worked at the local feed store. It was just a job to give me something mindless to do. Throwing feed sacks and hay bales all day fit the bill.

  What I didn’t know at the time was the majority of the members had been prior service. The club had actually been started up by seven veterans who had been lost and flailing after coming home from Vietnam. They banded together to keep each other sane and to recreate the camaraderie they needed. Those feelings were what drew most of the members in. Yeah, most of us had issues
, I ain’t gonna sugarcoat shit. But we understood each other. We were there for each other. No matter what.

  Gunny was the first one to suggest me joining the club when he saw my bike parked out in front of the store one day. At first I had rebelled and told him I didn’t want anything to do with them. I wanted to be alone. The only person I really talked to at the time was my buddy Kayde, who was still finishing up his enlistment. He had another couple of years left and had been talking about settling by me since I was more family than his own.

  That would be Joker. The day he was patched at the end of last year had been one of the happiest and proudest moments of my life. He was like my little brother already, and then he actually became my brother through the patch.

  Anyway, Gunny finally wore me down. He spent so much time talking to me, he started to bring small parts of me slowly back to life. Still, there were parts of me that were so black, I doubted anyone would ever find a light that could breach through the dark desolation I felt.

  That was until Kassi. She was that bright ray of sunshine I had been waiting my whole life for, and I chased her away. Straight into the arms of another man. It didn’t get any more cliché than that. Cliché or not, it still fucking hurt. Ripped out my heart. When Reaper had asked me if I loved her that night, he had planted a seed that took root, and I couldn’t eradicate it no matter how hard I tried.

  She was so deeply embedded in my mind, I thought I saw her everywhere, her scent followed me, and she infiltrated my dreams every night. Despite all of that, I was doing my best to let go and move on. Thoughts of her no longer brought me to my knees. Now I just felt a slight twinge in my chest. The true test would be to actually lay eyes on her. I wasn’t quite brave enough to test myself with that, so I avoided anywhere I thought she might be. Better safe than sorry, right?