Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet

by Hayley Faiman

  “Commitment, stability, fidelity,” I murmur as I drive toward her parent’s house.

  “You never know what you’re willing to compromise for the right person,” Brent says, giving me a wide smile.

  We ride the rest of the way to The Johnson’s in silence. I think about being tied down; it comes with restraints, but it could be good, too. It comes with an opportunity to have a family. I shake my head as I turn down the Johnson’s street.

  I smirk over at Brentlee as I throw the car into park. I want to laugh. Don’t think I could compromise on any of that shit I mentioned.

  No, my dick likes to roam, and I let it. No sense in tying a noose around it. No way. I couldn’t have one pussy for life.

  BRENTLEE

  Johnny looks a little like he’s going to hyperventilate at the thought of settling down, but I saw the truth. I saw the way he held Ellie; the way he looked at her.

  He may not realize it, but he’s ready for more. I can’t wait until love knocks him on his ass. I’m going to replay this little conversation of ours for him and laugh.

  As soon as I reach my parents front porch, my stomach flips. All thoughts of Johnny and his future fly out of my head, and the only thing I can focus on is my fear and nervousness.

  Johnny knocks on the door and I shoot him a dirty look. His response is a shrug.

  “Brentlee, oh my god, where have you been?” my mother dramatically cries. I ignore her outburst and push my way past her and into the house, Johnny right on my heels.

  “What’s happening, who is this?” she asks with disgust laced in her tone.

  “I need to talk to you and dad,” I murmur. She nods before she leaves to get my father.

  Once my parents are in the living area, I sit down on the sofa. Johnny slouches in the chair in the corner, and my parents sit poised to perfection on the loveseat.

  My mother can’t take her eyes off of Johnny. He’s a hot, rugged dude, but that’s not why she’s looking at him. She’s completely disgusted with him, and she’s probably watching to make sure he doesn’t jack her silver.

  “Well, where have you been?” my father demands.

  “I left Scotty,” I begin before taking a deep breath. “He hurt Stella and I couldn’t stay.”

  I don’t tell them where I’ve been on purpose. I don’t know what their reactions will be, but I do know what they’ve been in the past.

  My parents have turned a blind eye to every single bruise and broken bone I’ve suffered. Money and status have taken precedence over my health and safety.

  “I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding. You’ll just go back and ask his forgiveness. Tell him you were premenstrual,” my mother coos.

  I hear Johnny growl, but he doesn’t need to stand up for me. I can do it myself.

  “It wasn’t a misunderstanding. He hurt me for six years, and he was escalating. I left him before he killed Stella and me,” I say. My mother frowns.

  “You need to make it right, Brentlee,” she says.

  “I did make it right. I walked out and left,” I reiterate. It’s clear to me that my mom isn’t going to change her mind. She thinks I’ve made a grave mistake.

  “He loves you, Brentlee. You can’t hold a few bad things against him like that. He has a highly stressful job,” my father explains, cajoling me, talking to me like a small child.

  “You two are batshit crazy,” I point out as I stand up. Johnny snickers next to me, but I ignore him.

  “Brentlee, do not talk to us that way,” my father booms.

  “I’m not going back to him. I’m not allowing my daughter anywhere near him, either. If you two can’t accept that, then you can go kick rocks,” I shout.

  “You are more like your sister than I thought. You were always our good girl. What happened?” my mother cries with fake as shit tears falling down her cheeks.

  “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, comparing me to Kentlee,” I smile. My mother’s eyes narrow.

  “You don’t go back to your husband, then don’t come back here looking for our help,” she shouts.

  I want to act shocked, but I’m not. I knew this would be how our conversation would play out. My mother only wants things done her way.

  I’m not a little girl anymore, she doesn’t really get a say in my life, and I’m not going to put my daughter in jeopardy to make her happy.

  Neither am I going to give up Bates. I love him. For the first time in ten years I’m happy, and I’m not going to let anybody change that.

  “Let’s go, Johnny,” I murmur. He nods once before he walks toward the front door.

  “Do you realize what you’re doing, young lady?” my father asks. I stop at the opened door and turn to face him.

  “I’m doing what I should have done years ago when you pulled this shit with Kentlee. I’m leaving. I don’t need assholes like you in my life.”

  I don’t wait for their response. I turn and leave. They can be bitter and angry all they want, but I won’t allow them to control my life, or my daughter’s life. They aren’t acting like loving parents.

  Their only goal is to control and manipulate, and I for one am done with it. I love my daughter too much to subject her to anymore of the living-hell we were in months ago. No, it’s time I stood up—not only for me, but for her.

  “You did good in there,” Johnny says after we take off down the road.

  “They’re fucking crazy,” I murmur.

  “They are. I’d say they love you and they want what’s best for you, but to be honest, I have no clue what their agenda is,” he chuckles.

  “No shit. You know they just pretend Kentlee was never born? They took down every picture of her in the house. I bet my mom’s doing that with me now, too. Connellee doesn’t even visit anymore. They’ve officially isolated themselves from their own children. If Stella wanted nothing to do with me, I think I’d die,” I say looking out the passenger side of the car.

  “You’re a good mom, Brent. You’re a survivor. Most importantly, you’d never threaten to disown her for making a decision you don’t approve of,” he says.

  “I wouldn’t. Not ever. I love her too much,” I vow.

  We ride back to Bates’ house, my house, in silence. Once we pull into the dirt drive, my anxiety disappears.

  This is where I was always meant to be.

  This place feels like home.

  I’ve never been happier than in this little country house, surrounded by nothingness, but filled with everything—Bates and Stella.

  How can I ever want anything else? I can’t.

  This is where I plan on staying, forever. This is my happily ever after.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  SNIPER

  The road to Salt Lake City is boring as fuck. Torch and I ride together, and it feels as though we’re going at a snail’s pace. Maybe it feels long and lonely because I have something to get back to now.

  I have my Brentlee and Stella waiting for me. I also have a bad feeling in the pit of my gut that shit could go down with that fucktard, Scotty.

  “You okay, man?” Torch asks me once we park our bikes at the SLC clubhouse.

  “Got a bad fuckin’ feeling. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid.” I shrug as we walk through the doors.

  “Dirty Johnny’ll take care of your girl,” he says, clapping my shoulder. I narrow my eyes at him, which only makes him laugh at me. “You know what I mean,” he grumbles.

  “He’s had his dick inside of her,” I announce as if he doesn’t know.

  Torch doesn’t say a damn thing. He’s had his dick inside of my woman, too. Though I’m annoyed by those facts, I can’t hold it against any of them. It was over a decade ago.

  “Hey,” a booming voice shouts. I look up to see Rain, the charter’s vice president standing in the middle of the bar.

  We greet each other and then go over to a table where a cute, little, curvy redhead brings us some beers.

  I watch her plump, litt
le ass sway as she goes back behind the bar. I look around for Blow, the club’s president, but I don’t see him anywhere.

  “She ain’t a whore,” Rain barks. I turn back to him as I take a pull from my beer.

  “Got a woman; just enjoyin’ the view,” I say. He narrows his eyes at me before he laughs.

  “You got a woman now?” he asks, disbelieving.

  “Branded her a coupl’a weeks ago. Bitch branded me, too,” I chuckle, arching my neck so he can see her name scrawled along its length.

  “Fuck man, you really are taken,” he grunts.

  “I am. Happily,” I admit. He shakes his head.

  “Pleased as fuck for you. Good woman is hard to find in our world.” I nod and Torch snorts.

  “She’s not from our world, but she’s in it now. Our president’s wife’s little sister,” he speaks up.

  It’s my turn to snort. Brentlee might be LeeLee’s little sister, but she’s always been her own leader. Never acted her age, and has always taken center stage, no matter where she’s at.

  “I like that. Keeping families together and shit,” Rain says. We all laugh.

  We spend the rest of the evening drinking and shooting the shit. When the party really starts to get into full swing, a couple of bitches try to cuddle up next to me, but I shoo them away.

  It’s easier than I thought possible, turning easy pussy down. Brent would never know if I fucked someone else, but I would.

  I don’t need these other women, not when all I can think about is being inside of my own. I decide to leave the party earlier than I normally would. It’s late and people are starting to really get wild.

  I make my way to my room for the night and slide my phone out of my pocket. There’s a new text waiting for me, and I grin. It’s from Brentlee. I bite my bottom lip in hopes it’ll be something for my spank bank, but it isn’t.

  Instead, it’s a selfie with her and Stella. Brent has atrocious makeup all over her face—bright red lipstick that’s more on her face than her lips, purple eye shadow, and hot pink blush. She’s also wearing a tiara.

  Stella has the same look going for her, and it makes me laugh. Underneath Brent’s message reads.

  Playing dress up, aren’t we beautiful princesses?

  I decide to shoot a text back, even though it’s late and she probably won’t see it until the morning.

  The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.

  I shed my clothes and fall into the shitty, little bed they have set up and sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll collect what I’m here for and we’ll be gone again. On our way home, back to my girls. I can’t wait.

  BRENTLEE

  It’s been one week since I have seen Bates. He texts me at least once a day. I try not to be that clingy, crazy girlfriend and get upset when I don’t hear from him, but it’s a struggle. I wish that he would call me while he’s away, but I’ll take the one text I do get happily.

  Tonight, they’re supposed to be back, and Fury is having a big party for their return. Then tomorrow, the Canadian charter is going to leave, and the whole club is going to have a family BBQ.

  Kentlee is so excited to spend some time with the other Old Lady’s and enjoy the evening later, kid less. I’m excited to be on the arm of Bates at the family day. I would be lying if I said any differently.

  I have to work at the party tonight, but I want to look sexy for Bates’ return. I put on my shortest shorts; they’re black, skin tight, and low waisted.

  On top, I pull on a black leather bustier, tight bralette crop top, and then slide into my bright red high heels. I curl my hair, making it big and fluffy, before I apply my makeup, dark and sultry with bright red lips.

  I want him to drool at the sight of me—fall to his knees and declare his undying love for me. Okay. That’s not going to happen, but I want to make him hard in an instant and for him to fuck me like he missed me—for hours.

  “Ready?” Fury asks. I nod.

  I give Tammy a hug goodbye and kiss Stella on the cheek before following Fury out of the front door. I’m nervous. I don’t know why; it isn’t as though a week is a terribly long time.

  Maybe I’m not sure how he handled us being apart?

  Did he give in to temptation and screw around?

  Did he think about Stella and me and decide that we’re too much trouble to keep around?

  I have made a mess of things in my head, and until I see his face, until I look into his haunted eyes, I won’t feel settled.

  Luckily, Fury doesn’t talk on the way to the clubhouse. He wordlessly parks the SUV, and I follow him inside of the building.

  The music is thumping and smoke is already filling the air. I make my way behind the bar. A place I have discovered is the absolute safest place for me to stay.

  Earlier in the week, I ventured out into the floor area to pick up discarded bottles of beer, and one of the Canadian members mistook me for a clubwhore.

  Johnny had to beat the shit out of him for grabbing me and refusing to let go. It had to have been one of the scariest things in my life.

  Granted, the things Scotty did to me were horrendous and terrifying, but this man was a stranger. I shiver just thinking about his hands on me.

  I spend the entire evening watching the door, waiting for Bates to breeze on through. When two in the morning rolls around, I give up.

  He’s not coming.

  I tell the prospect helping me serve the men, that I’m going to the restroom, and I leave the bar. The hall to the restrooms is dark, as all bathroom hallways seem to be. I wonder offhandedly why that is.

  The bathroom smells, even though I just cleaned it the day before. The women in this club are a bunch of dirty bitches. I should show the guys just how truly disgusting their whores are.

  If I were a guy, I wouldn’t put my dick in women that are as dirty as these chicks. I giggle to myself as I wash my hands, wondering how many of them have crabs. I always hover over the seat, just in case. I’d rather have a little pee splash on my thigh then some incurable disease.

  “Always knew you were a whore,” the cool calculated voice of my husband says as he walks through the door and flips the lock behind him. I look up and freeze, my eyes completely focused on him.

  “You need to leave,” I say shakily.

  “I don’t think I will, wife,” he snarls.

  “Not for long,” I say squaring my shoulders.

  “But you still are, very much, my wife,” he says, approaching me. I shiver in disgust when his finger trails my shoulder and down my arm.

  “Bates will be looking for me,” I say, using all of the false bravado I can muster.

  “No, I don’t think that he will. You see, he walked in after your bathroom trip, and right around that time, one of their whores began giving the heathens a show,” he chuckles, letting his hand wrap around me and travel up my spine.

  He’s too close. I can smell his aftershave, his cologne, his detergent. It’s too much. Too painful and too debilitating. A whimper escapes me, but my eyes are locked in on his cold, dead blue ones.

  “You could have been such a good wife, Brentlee. Why couldn’t you just accept everything? I gave you a nice place to live, the finest clothes, and a child to keep you entertained during the day. I gave you everything, but you took it all for granted. You’re such a selfish, little bitch. And now you’re nothing but a slut. I should have whored you out all those years. I had men asking after you, you know?” he announces.

  I press my lips together, trying to keep from crying out, sobbing, and showing any true emotion. He feeds off of my reactions.

  “Speak,” he shouts in my face. I blink, keeping my cool, trying not to freak out.

  “What would you like me to say?” I ask quietly.

  I don’t realize what’s happened before I feel the pain radiating off of my cheek. With one hand tangled in my hair, the other makes a fist and he punches my cheek.

  “Suck my cock like the whore you are,” he demands as he pushes me down to my knee
s.

  I reluctantly have no choice but to land on the concrete floor. My bare knees connecting hard with the dirty, ground.

  “No,” I say.

  He doesn’t own me anymore. Bates does. I’m a whore for no man. I’m Bates’ woman, his tigritsa. I am no longer Scotty’s punching bag.

  “You don’t suck me off, Brentlee, I’ll kill you and then I’ll kill that little fucking brat you pushed out of your dry as fuck pussy,” he grinds out.

  I close my eyes and think of Stella. He’d do it, too. The sick fuck would kill his own daughter. He had no qualms beating the shit out of me until I lost our first baby.

  “The only dick that comes near me is Bates’. I’m not your whore, Scotty,” I say, staying firm, standing my ground—on my knees.

  His arm comes out and he backhands me. I can feel blood trickling from my lip. The whole left side of my face aches, but I don’t care. He’s not going to torture me, not without me giving him a fucking fight.

  “I should mutilate you. He wouldn’t want you if you were hideous. Nobody would,” he laughs.

  It comes off as maniacal and completely creepy. How I ever fell for him, how I ever married him, is beyond me. Looking at him now, all I see is a disturbed and disgusting individual.

  I hear something behind him, but the music is so loud I’m not sure what it is. I don’t want to alert him in case it’s nothing. I can only pray that somebody has found us.

  “Do it,” I challenge.

  Fuck him.

  Scotty opens his mouth to surely spew more shit, but there’s a loud sound. I cover my mouth with my hands, finding my face completely covered in blood. Scotty’s blood, and brains, and everything that goes along with it.

  When his body falls to the ground, I look past him and see Bates standing stoically. His eyes are transfixed on Scotty’s lifeless body.

  I let out a sound that’s only described as a mix between a cry, a sob, and a shout. Bates’ eyes leave Scotty and come to me. I’m sure I look scary, covered in blood and brain, bruises forming on my cheek.

  “Tigritsa,” he says. It sounds animalistic, guttural.