The Unacceptables Series Box Set Two: Books Five through Nine with Exclusive Bonus Chapters

by Mazzola, Kristen Hope

  I called Abel.

  He’ll know what to do.

  And if Abel didn’t, his old man would.

  Abel’s mother, Sherry, was the one to answer. I did my best to keep my voice level, swallowing my nerves as much as humanly possible.

  “Hi, Mrs. Hellock. It’s Holt. Is Abel home?”

  “Oh, hi, sweetheart. He’s out in the garage tinkering with his bike. Let me go get him for you.” Her singsong voice shot daggers into my ear. She was an old lady; maybe I should have just told her something was wrong. She was used to turning a blind eye to the things her husband and the rest of the members of his club did. She probably would have snapped right into action. I just didn’t have it in me to bring her into this mess.

  “Th-Thanks,” I stammered as my entire body trembled.

  It was the longest wait of my life—a few seconds felt like a million years. Shuddering in the kitchen, internally freaking the fuck out, I damned the fact that Sherry had been the one to answer my fucking call.

  “Hey man, what’s going on?” Abel asked coolly into the phone.

  “Shit, dude—I need you to get over here right now!” I was yelling at the top of my lungs—my throat shredding as the words leapt from deep within me.

  “Is everything all right?” He was still too calm for how much I wasn’t.

  “No. Nothing is all right. Get the fuck over here and bring your damn father. I need fucking help.”

  I sucked in a few sharp breaths before

  slamming the receiver down and sinking to the floor. Staring at my mother in the other room, I curled up in a ball like a damn foolish coward.

  It felt like a lifetime before Abel and Odin came busting in the front door.

  “What the hell?” Odin’s broad, menacing frame stood in the middle of the small room, staring over at me.

  “I just found her like this,” I mumbled, my voice cracking in the back of my throat. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

  Abel pulled me to my feet, pushing me against the wall. “Get a grip.” His eyes bored into mine as he slammed my shoulders harder than necessary.

  Without warning, I burst into uncontrollable sobs.

  What a fucking bitch move.

  “My mom is fucking dead,” I howled into his face. “She’s gone! How the fuck am I supposed to get a goddamned grip?”

  My best friend looked down at me as his face softened. “Yeah, man. It’s fucking awful to say the least, and we need to deal with it. Either sit in the corner and be a pussy about this or grow a pair, call the cops, and let us help you.”

  Odin put a hand on his son’s shoulder before turning to me. “Do you know who her dealer was?”

  I nodded, refusing to make eye contact or tell him who it was. I knew what he was capable of and if anyone was going to make Marcus pay for my mother’s death, it wasn’t going to be anyone but me.

  “Kid, we’re going to handle this, but you’re going to have to help us. Can you handle that?”

  I nodded again before muttering, “Yeah. I think so.”

  Odin’s hardened glare shot from Abel to me before he picked up the phone, dialed, and was barking out orders to his number two within seconds. “Rave, I need you at 390 Walnut Street. Hurry, and come alone. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”

  Being the president of the Unacceptables Motorcycle Club had its many perks. Being the best friend of his son had them too.

  It only took minutes for us to hear a roaring bike pull up out front of the small house. Without even knocking, Rave came onto the scene like an archangel in a leather cut: boots stomping, gun drawn, ax in its sheath strapped to his back. I didn’t know why they called him to butcher until that moment. He was ready for a fight, not for what he walked into.

  “Holy shit,” he muttered, holstering his weapon before running a hand over his grizzled jaw. “Cops?”

  Odin picked up the phone again. “Yeah.” After he made the 9-1-1 call, Odin sank onto the couch. “Now, when they get here, just be honest. You found her like this, got overly flustered, called us, and we came to help you out—nothing to worry about. If you tell the truth, there’s nothing to remember when they start in with the standard third degree.”

  I stood by the open front door, waiting for the blaring sirens to arrive. Everything was never going to be all right ever again and standing there in silence, it sank in hard.

  How is this happening?

  This can’t be real life.

  This has to be a nightmare.

  What am I supposed to do now?

  My mom was my entire world. It had been just the two of us as long as I could remember. It wasn’t until the year before when I met Abel that my family started to grow. I never really had any friends. I was a total cliché outcast—bullied and pushed around until a senior with a chip on his shoulder and a scary old man ducked into my corner and started sticking up for me. I relied on Abel too much and there was I asking more of him than any friend should ever have to.

  After the cops took statements and processed the scene, the coroner came in with a body bag, and my brain snapped. Focus lost, all fucks flew out the window, I saw red.

  Rave and Odin had to deal with some business back at their garage, leaving Abel and me in the empty house, just staring at the ceiling, silent. I didn’t want them to leave, but there was nothing more they—or anyone—could really do for me at that point. It was done. My mother was gone. Nothing was going to change that.

  Finally, Abel broke the silence. “You should come stay at our place for a while, at least until we figure out what’s going to happen. You’re a minor—CPS isn’t going to let you live here alone.”

  “Yeah, okay. There’s just something I have to do first.” I grabbed my leather jacket from its hook and made my way out of the front door.

  I knew Abel could see it all over my face, and he didn’t stop me. He just followed me out into the front yard.

  “Where are we going, Holt?” Abel asked, getting onto the hand-me-down Chief his dad had been helping him restore since he got his license.

  “I think I need to do this one alone. It’ll be better that way. You’ve already done too much for me.” I stood next to his booming bike, arms crossed, feet firmly planted.

  He patted the back seat. “Not a fucking chance in hell am I going to let you out of my sight right now. Whatever you’ve got in that damn head of yours, you’re not going to do it alone. Now get on before I knock you out, drag you back to my place, and chain you up in the garage for safekeeping.”

  I knew he wasn’t joking. Abel would do whatever he thought he had to to keep me from making a huge mistake unaccompanied. He was a ride-and-die type of friend—not that ride-or-die bullshit people told themselves.

  Reluctantly, I gave in. We were losing daylight and he wasn’t going to back down. Sitting bitch on his bike, I gave him the directions.

  “That’s the house.” I pointed up the street. “That’s where my mom’s dealer lives.”

  We watched from down the block as the scumbag who had sold my mother her last bag of dope fucked around in his garage. He looked so much smaller than I had remembered.

  “Stay here,” I barked, climbing off the back of Abel’s bike.

  To my surprise, Abel let me go in solo.

  I didn’t have a plan. I just knew an ass-beating was in that fuckface’s extremely near future.

  * * *

  What have I done?

  Staring at my blood-covered hands, still gripping the wooden handle of a now broken ball-peen hammer, I stood in the wake of my mayhem in disbelief.

  Flashes of the fight assaulted me over and over: how I snuck up behind Marcus with a two-by-four that had stupidly been left on the side of his house…how I didn’t even give him a chance to defend himself before I let the wood connect with the back of his head…how the dull, rounded head of the hammer I grabbed from his workbench cracked right into the guy’s temple as blood sprayed everywhere, bits of skull and brain matter erupting
out of the side of his head.

  A life for a life. I kept repeating the mantra in rapid fire in my head as I fell to my knees next to the body of the man that I had just killed.

  In one day, I had become an orphan and a murder—two things I never would have dreamed were possible.

  “Holton! Fuck, man! Get up! Holt!” Abel was shaking me, blood transferring onto him as he tried to get me to snap back to reality. “We have to go—now!”

  Chapter 2

  Decades later

  My cell blared on my nightstand, waking me up at what felt like the ass crack of dawn even though it was nearly one in the afternoon. Working the late shift at the bar had started to really fuck up my sleep schedule and it had been taking a nasty toll on my body.

  “Yeah?” I answered before hacking up a lung.

  “Holt? It’s Sheriff Kelley. I think you need to come on down to the hospital. Rave’s been in an accident and I can’t get Abel or Crickett on the phone.”

  “On my way.” I barked before hanging up and throwing the phone onto my bed.

  I got dressed as fast as possible and was at the hospital within minutes, but I was too late. They had lost Rave. My heart broke into a million pieces. Rave had helped raise me, helped me when I hit rock bottom and brought me back to life more times than I could count.

  I tried Abel and Crickett a few times each, but neither of them answered. They didn’t even answer the bar’s phone.

  Fuck.

  I paced around the waiting area.

  I knew I couldn’t call any of our other members. Abel and Crickett needed to know first. The death of a president needed to be handled very carefully.

  Right as I was about to leave and drive to the bar where I knew Crickett was working the day shift, Raine was calling. I hesitated—Raine was Abel’s teenaged daughter. It wasn’t the way I should have handled it, but I did it anyway.

  I answered just before the call went to voicemail. “Raine?”

  “Hey, Holt. I am about to drop Collin off at your place. Dad said you’d be able to bring him to the bar when you went in for your shift, and it would really help me out. If I’m late for this study group again, they’re going to kill me.” Her voice was so sugary and innocent.

  “Sweetheart, I think you’re going to be missing that group today,” I admitted without thinking it through.

  “What’s wrong?” Raine was a smart girl; she would have known something was going on even if I had rushed to my place to meet her and lied through my teeth straight to her face.

  “Rave was in an accident and your folks aren’t answering their phones. I need you to head to the bar and tell Crickett to get down here. Can you do that for me?” I did my best to keep my tone upbeat and calm.

  “I-is ha-he…?” she stuttered before trailing off.

  The crack in her voice broke my heart. I didn’t want to lie to her. She was like a daughter to me, and she was going to find out about her grandfather sooner than later no matter what I did to try to shield her from it all.

  “Oh my god!” she shrilled, knowing what my silence truly meant.

  “Raine, honey, I need you to get to your mom and dad and have them meet me at the hospital. Can you do that?” My voice was low and composed.

  I heard her sniffle a few times before answering, “Yes, of course. We’ll be there soon.”

  * * *

  Raine ran through the front doors right into my arms with her parents and little brother following close behind her.

  “I am so sorry, Abel.” My voice shook as I hugged Raine back with one arm and put my hand on my best friend’s shoulder with the other. I had helped Abel raise Raine until Crickett came into their lives; she was more than a friend, more than a niece, she was like a daughter to me, and all I wanted to do was comfort her and the rest of the family as much as possible.

  “What happened?” Crickett cried as she gripped her husband’s and son’s hands as her body shook and all of the color drained from her face.

  “He was run off the road. There was no way he was going to make it through that even if he had laid his bike down,” I explained.

  “Do we know who did it?” Abel gripped his stepfather’s cut in his right hand, running his thumb over the patch that read President.

  “Not yet. But don’t you worry, we’re going to take care of it.” I didn’t know if I was making empty promises, I just didn’t know what else to say.

  Abel took a in a harsh, deep breath. “We need to have a meeting, now. Crickett, take the kids home. I need to take care of this.”

  Tears were leaking down Crickett’s face as she grabbed my brother and Raine. “Come on.”

  Abel put his hand on her shoulder right as she was turning to leave. The hollowing look in his eyes was bone-chilling. With a low voice he got close to his devoted wife, wrapping her up in his arms. “I will be home tonight babe.”

  She kissed his cheek. “You better be.”

  * * *

  Rave was gone. Our president had been murdered. I sat in utter disbelief as Abel addressed the members of our club. He was sitting at the head of the table, his rightful spot—inheriting it from our fallen leader. Abel was poised and had never looked more in control.

  “Men, it is with a very heavy heart that I have to tell you all this information and I thank you all for coming on such short notice. Sometime this morning, Rave was run off the road while riding up near Pisgah National Forest. There was nothing the doctors could do. He didn’t make it.” The water that welled up in Abel’s eyes as he told our brothers of the Unacceptables that their fearless spearhead had been taken out was not something I would ever forget. “Holt and I took a ride up there not too long ago and there aren’t any skid marks. Whoever caused this didn’t do it by accident. It was appears to be a deliberate attack.”

  Rave’s cut was in the middle of the large oak table.

  Standing, I did what needed to be done as everyone watched in horrified silence. I took out my knife and cut the president’s flash from the front of the weathered, fading leather.

  “This belongs to you now, brother.” Handing the black and white patch to Abel, I sank back into my seat at his right.

  He gripped it in his hands. “I will not put this on until we find the fucking sons of bitches responsible for this. Mark my words, retribution will be fast and sweet.” His declaration boomed throughout the large room.

  All of the men remained taciturn, and it wasn’t the reaction I had expected. I was used to rage bellowing out, yelling with fists slamming, bloodlust emanating from every pore. It didn’t happen this time, though.

  “How’re Crickett and the kids taking it?” Red asked from the other end of the table.

  Abel pursed his lips. “As good as you could expect. Crickett is strong, and we’ll make sure the kids get through this all right.”

  “If you need anything, you let us know.” Red was gnashing on a plug deep in his jaw as he leaned back in his chair. “I know you’ll make this right. We’ll make this right.”

  Red was one of the old-timers, one of the few we had left in the organization. He was weathered, mean as fuck, and scary as hell, but he had a heart of gold—just like most of the men I had the pleasure of sitting at that table with.

  The other guys nodded in agreement with Red as they offered their help and condolences.

  “For the time being, keep your families close, and no one goes anywhere alone. We need to ride in at least twos until this threat has been eliminated.” Abel slammed down the gavel. “I think we all need a drink.”

  Pulling Abel to the side, I spoke quietly. “Don’t you think we should go on lockdown? I mean, this could be the beginning of a war.”

  Abel shook his head. “We’ll keep the guys on high alert, but I don’t want whoever the fuck did this to think we’re rattled and weakened. We’re going to have to smoke them out, and hiding in this clubhouse is not going to get that accomplished. We’re going to have to be smarter than them.”

  “Whe
re do we even start?” I asked. It seemed like a dumb-as-hell question, but it needed to be addressed.

  Abel rubbed the back of his neck as he thought for a few seconds. “There was a guy in the bar today. He was sniffing around, said he was looking for his old man. I smell a mole, if you ask me.”

  * * *

  Sitting on my front porch with a can of Busch in hand and my sawed-off to my right, I burned cowboy killers, one after the other like a goddamn chimney. I was pissed. I hated sitting on my hands not knowing who was out for us.

  Just as I was about to open a new pack, Crickett’s truck pulled up into my drive.

  I hurriedly trotted down the steps, meeting her in my front yard.

  “Hey, hon. To what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked, offering her the fresh pack.

  She took it, ripped the plastic off, and waited for me to light her cigarette in rapid succession. “Have a minute? I need to run something by you and I didn’t think I should do it over the phone.”

  Crickett’s cheeks were puffy and her eyes were bloodshot. Pain weighed her entire body down as she trudged closer to my side.

  “Sweetheart, I have all the time in the world for our queen.” I put a hand on her shoulder as her sunken eyes met mine.

  We ambled up to the rocking chairs on my front porch. She sat there chewing on the filter for a few seconds, staring off at the dusk-covered mountainside off in the distance.

  “How’re you holding up?” I asked after lighting yet another for myself to choke down.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. It ain’t real yet…but that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Then what’s going on, darlin’? I know you’re not here for the riveting company or to steal my smokes.” I tried to laugh but it was futile.

  “Do you have a son?” The question took me by surprise—smacking me in the face.