The Lost Boys MC Series: Books 1-4

by Savannah Rylan

  She’s fuckin’ around with someone else. She’s feedin’ information to someone.

  She’s been working at the damn zoo all week. You went by there. Saw her car. Who the hell would she be talking to at the damn zoo about this?

  I bit down onto the inside of my cheek. It was true. I’d gone to the zoo every damn day this week, trying to find her car. And every time I saw it, I had the urge to sit by the damn thing until she was done with work. Going to the zoo and parkin’ by her car was the only thing that kept me focused all damn week. It helped keep my head on straight, despite the fact that I knew Hayley had become a weakness.

  The club was in too deep for me not to focus. So, I was questioning what helped me to focus.

  I cruised down Highway One, heading for the lodge. I needed a place that wasn’t my damn apartment to clear my head. I was very annoyed that Hayley wanted information about the club. Especially since we’d only gotten together twice. But her wanting that information inferred something about her state of mind that made me grin.

  She missed me.

  I’d never gone back to a woman twice like that. Ever. I strapped them to my side for as long as they’d stay with me. But the second they left, they were gone. Hayley and I parted ways that morning after our first encounter. Most women would’ve stayed in my bed and waited for me to get home. Waited for me to tear the covers off their bodies and devour them again. I was the kind of man that could make women cancel work and forgo all their plans just to wait for my dick while I was out and about.

  But not Hayley. She had a life she was living. A life she was running. A career she was holding down.

  I liked that. A lot.

  The crashing of the ocean waves reminded me of our time on the beach. I pulled over to a lookout and parked my bike, gazing out over the darkened horizon of the ocean. I reminisced on our time at the beach. I let my cock throb hard against my jeans. This woman had occupied every free space of my mind for the past week, and I figured fuckin’ her one last time would get her out of my system. Help me move past her so I could focus on this Boulder shit that had everyone in my club on edge.

  But all I found was the smell of her body wafting from my lips up to my nostrils.

  You’re in trouble, Stone.

  I didn’t even try to fight it. I knew I was. I was being assaulted from all sides, and that assault included the beautiful vixen named Hayley. I wanted to let her in. Part of me was pissed off at the fact that I did, too. I wanted to tell her about all the shit the club was experiencing. I wanted to seek comfort in her body and her beautiful eyes and her wondrous voice. I wanted to tell her about Boulder and Jett and about the shit my sister went through. I wanted to tell her what a glorious distraction she was before rolling her over and taking her underneath me again.

  But how the hell did I tell shit like that to a woman I’d only see twice?

  I barely knew her. I couldn't just let her in like that. I groaned as I pushed away from the lookout and kept heading for the lodge. Why couldn't I be like Notch and just see her as a great fuck? Move on after a couple of times and keep gettin’ what was mine? Notch filtered through women like underwear, and I wished I had that capacity. That ability to not give a shit when it was important to not give one.

  I thought I was good at it. But this shit with Hayley proved me wrong.

  I kept on, pushing forward on my trek toward our seaside lodge. In hindsight, I’d never been like that. I’d never been the type to hook-up and walk off. I mean, the women I had at my side over the years stayed for a spell. Even if it was just one week or if it was as long as one year, they stayed. And I liked that they stayed. Every woman I’d ever come across, I had loved in some form or fashion. Be it for ten minutes or ten years, they’d earned my love and respect. Women were beautiful creatures. They possessed things men never would. They had a strength men never would. They had a deep-seated desire to please and maintain men never would.

  They were the most refreshing breath of fresh air. And I respected the hell out of any woman I came across.

  Even if they liked to be bossed around by the big, bad wolf.

  All my life, I’d been a one-woman type of guy. And there was something about Hayley that kept dragging me back. That kept pulling me back to the zoo just to sit by her car. That kept forcing me to look at her card and memorize her office number. After this whirlwind of a week, I had been ready to see her. Ready to kiss her. Ready to fall into her and forget about everything. The shipment came in and Notch had received it. He’d gotten in touch with Harry Cheng to let him know we had it.

  Then, that phone call set of a cascade of events that kept the damn club up most nights.

  Our clients that wanted those guns had to chase us all over the damn city. Every hour on the hour, we were racing to somewhere new. Racing to try and meet the next discount client to unload the guns and the heat they brought down onto our backs. All the while, checking for Boulder. For Detective Terry Woolf. Trying to make sure we kept our noses clean in all this. It had been a whirlwind of money exchanged and cleaned. Guns turned over and shipments cleared out.

  Now, the next shipment of guns Jin Yung had forced upon us was about to dock. And we had to do this shit all over again.

  Hayley was a beautiful distraction from all that shit. But when push came to shove, I had to protect her from it. Even if it meant staying away from her. Even if it meant only having her car in the parking lot of her work to sit by and reminisce at.

  You got it bad, Stone. Very, very bad.

  The further I rode away from her apartment, the closer I grew to the lodge. But the closer I grew to the lodge, the more I wanted to turn back and go fix things. The more distance I put between us, the less I really wanted to. I wanted to whip a U-turn, race back to her place, barge through her door, and scoop her into my arms. I wanted to fall right back into bed with her and fuck her beautiful body while she called out my name. I wanted to pull pleasure from her body until she begged me to stop. Until she couldn’t take anymore.

  I wanted to lay down beside her until the sun rose, without a care in this cold, God-forsaken world.

  You can’t worry about that right now.

  I pulled my bike into the parking lot of the lodge. Bronx’s bike was already here. Probably crunching numbers from all the damn sales we’d made this week. Trying to figure out how much we could stick into our pockets and how much needed to funnel back into the purchase of this latest shipment. I turned my bike off and forced myself to push Hayley from my mind. Bronx was just the man I needed to see to help finalize the plans for this last shipment. At least, monetarily, he was. I’d have to contact Notch about the specific ports this shit was coming into. But I could do that tomorrow.

  I made my way for the lodge, breathing in the scent of Hayley against my lips one last time.

  Then, I wiped my lips off on my black t-shirt and walked up the steps to the front door.

  Time to get some fuckin’ work done.

  18

  Hayley

  “Dad!?” I called out.

  I heard him rustling around down the hallway as I closed his front door behind me. I’d been coming over to my father’s every morning for the past week, enjoying breakfast and coffee with him before my schedule switched at work again. I had five more days on this two-week training schedule before I started working a regular nine-to-four schedule. And while I was ready for it, I’d miss having coffee with my father before he went into work.

  But today, I wanted to ask him a question.

  “You know it’s Saturday, right?” my father asked.

  “I know, I know. But I wanted to see you anyway. That so bad?” I asked.

  I smiled as he came down the hallway, looming in the shadows. His face had days worth of stubble on it and he looked more haggard than normal. Which meant he was really throwing himself into this case or whatever. His hair was wet from his shower and his clothes stuck to him. A t-shirt that was always tucked into the pants he wore along with a w
orn belt my mother had given him for his birthday years and years ago.

  I smiled softly. “Morning, Dad.”

  He wrapped me up in a hug. “Morning, princess.”

  “Ready for some coffee?”

  “Very ready. Make a whole pot. I’ll need more than a couple cups to wake me up this morning.”

  “Up late working?” I asked.

  “Didn’t fall asleep until about three.”

  “Daddy.”

  “I know, I know. You and your mother both hate that side of me. But it’s what put food on the table and clothes on your back,” he said.

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me anymore,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, I need clothes. I need food. And I need a hell of a lot of coffee.”

  I giggled as we walked into the kitchen, his arm slung over my shoulder. I enjoyed my father first thing in the morning. Before the memories hit him and he sunk into his semi-depressive state. I kissed his stubbled jawline before settling into the routine I’d created for the two of us over the past week or so. I put on an entire pot of coffee and pulled the bacon from his fridge. I fried it up extra crispy, just how he liked it, then I put some toast in the toaster. I put out the butter. The peanut butter. All the jams he enjoyed switching between. I scrambled us some eggs and got them onto plates for us, then sat one down in front of my father.

  “You and your mother were always too good to me,” he said.

  “If anything, we aren’t good enough,” I said softly.

  I kissed the top of his head just as the coffee finished up. I gathered everything and put it on the table, then the two of us dug in. I slathered peanut butter on my toast while he dumped hot sauce on his eggs. Both of us chugged back an entire mug of coffee before either of us said anything. The two of us could easily go through a pot of coffee with how strong our need for it was, which was saying something since my mother had always been a tea drinker.

  At least, according to my father she had been.

  “So, how’s work going?” I asked.

  My father nodded. “I’m glad you came over. Want to stay for lunch?”

  I paused. “Are you going undercover again?”

  He looked over at me and sighed. My father never asked me to stay over for another meal—or spend more time with him, in general—if it meant he was about to bury himself in something. He was a creature of habit, and that was one of his habits. I grew worried that he was. That he was overtaxing his body to go back undercover to wrap up whatever it was he had gotten himself obsessed with. He poured himself a second mug of coffee and tilted it back, groaning as the burn heated his mouth.

  “Dad,” I said.

  He held up his finger and took another bite of his eggs.

  “Sorry. I’m hungry,” he said.

  “It’s a simple question,” I said.

  “I’m not going undercover again.”

  “Well, that’s a relief to hear.”

  “But my team and I are getting very close to wrapping up the case we’re working on currently.”

  “What case?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “The lingering case that was born from my last undercover operation.”

  “What did you do for your last one again?”

  His eyes flickered over to me. “How’s your job going?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Your job. At the zoo. How’s it going? You still training?”

  Maybe if I talked about my job a bit, he’d talk about his.

  “It’s going really well. Next week I’m still on a training schedule, then I start a regular nine-to-four job,” I said.

  “Nine-to-four. That’s nice,” he said.

  “I even have my own office,” I said, grinning.

  “It’s about damn time. You need an office with all the running around you do as a zoologist. You getting much time with the giraffes and elephants?”

  I smiled. “I’m actually overseeing the entire Africa section of the zoo. So, yeah. I practically get to spend my days with them.”

  I watched my father’s eyes light up before he placed his hand on my shoulder. He squeezed it before reaching up to cup my cheek, and I nuzzled into his palm. I missed that light in my father’s eyes. That happiness. It was a rare sighting nowadays, the pride he had in his stare. The grin that crossed his face. His chuckle as it slid from his throat and filled the space around us.

  “I’m proud of you, princess,” he said.

  “Thanks, Daddy,” I said, smiling.

  “And these eggs are fantastic.”

  “I’m glad you like them.”

  “Did you do anything new to them?”

  “I beat them a little more to make them lighter and fluffier.”

  “You should keep that technique,” he said.

  “Is your team coming over today to work? I could whip them up some, too,” I said.

  “Nah. They don’t come over much nowadays. All the work we do is in the office.”

  “You going into work today? That why you look so nice?”

  “Nice?” he asked.

  He looked down at his outfit and I snickered.

  “Your clothes don’t have holes or stains, so yes. For you? It’s nice,” I said.

  He chuckled again, and it shocked me to my core. Apparently, they must be getting very close. Because my father was in a very good mood.

  “Well, I’ll have to work on that, then,” he said.

  “You really should,” I said, giggling.

  “So, what else is on your mind?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, other than you wanting to constantly question the work I do that I can’t talk about, what else is on your mind?”

  I smiled. “That obvious?”

  “You’ve always been curious about my job.”

  “Can’t fault a girl for wanting to know more about what her father does for a living.”

  “I can see a question tumbling behind your eyes. You’re always so easy to read. Like your mother was. Well, sort of,” he said.

  I sighed. “She was easy to read?”

  He shrugged. “I thought so, at least.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. She was complicated.”

  “Was she easy to read or complicated?”

  “What is your question, Hayley?”

  “What if that’s my question?” I asked.

  He shot me a glare and I rolled my eyes.

  “Fine. I do have a question,” I said.

  “Ask away.”

  “Have you ever heard of The Lost Boys? Like, a motorcycle gang or something?” I asked.

  He paused before he placed his fork down onto his plate. He wiped his lips off before he slowly turned to me, and I saw something cross my father’s face. It was dark. Menacing. It darkened his eyes almost to black and cast strong shadows across his face. I didn’t like the way my father looked at me. It made me nervous. I took a long pull from my mug as his eyes connected with mine, trying to put some sort of a barrier between us.

  “What?” I asked.

  “How do you know about this club?” my father asked.

  I shrugged. “I’ve seen them weaving in and out of traffic on their bikes. They’re annoying as hell. I was wondering if you had heard of them or something.”

  I really hoped he bought my lie, because my father was an expert detector. I kept my face as stoic as possible while his eyes danced along my features. I kept my movements under control. I settled my mug of coffee into my lap, trying not to change any of the movements I would have usually made had I not been under the pressure of his stare.

  Then, my father drew in a sharp breath.

  “You need to stay away from them, Hayley. Do you hear me?” he asked.

  “So, you do know about them. Do you know what assholes they are in traffic?” I asked.

  “You don’t even know the—”

  I narrowed my eyes as my father’s phone r
ang out in his pocket. He pulled it out, turning his pocket inside out to try and get to it quickly. He grumbled to himself before he held his finger up to me, then stood up to take the call.

  “Detective Woolf,” he said.

  That was all I heard as he hurried over to the back porch doors. He slid them open and stepped outside, concealing the phone call from me. Leaving me alone in the house with my breakfast partially uneaten. I leaned back into my seat and sighed. I tipped back my second mug of coffee, finishing it up. I eyed the pot, watching as the last two mugs of black liquid sat there, waiting to be had by my father and myself.

  “Fuck it,” I murmured.

  And as my father talked out on the porch, I poured myself another mug.

  19

  Stone

  “We got everything finalized for the shipment?” I asked.

  Notch came striding into the room, stuffing his cell phone back into his pocket.

  “Got the details. Everything’s good to go. Customers were happy with their discounts and already inquiring about the next shipment. I told them to hang tight and I’d get them info as soon as possible,” he said.

  “Good. Texas?” I asked.

  “The shipment’s coming in five installations from three different ports tonight. Our southern-most port is bringing the shit to us, due to arrive at 9:15. Notch and Bronx are tasked with the northernmost port, where they’ll take the stash and hide it in the warehouse we’ve got around that area. I’m in control of the middle port and getting the shit back here, while you’re going to stay here and receive the one coming to us,” he said.

  “Why isn’t all of it coming to us?” I asked.

  “Not all the ports are cooperating like usual because of the heat they know are on us. People are talking, Stone. It’s gonna eventually catch up with us,” Bronx said.

  “Fuck,” I groaned.

  “I shouldn't be too far behind the 9:15 shipment I’m guiding in to us. So, I can help you unload shit once I get back,” Texas said.

  “Notch. Bronx. I want you two in touch with me at all times. I want to know when you get to the port, when you have the shit, and when you’ve got it unloaded. I want updates every half hour. Got it?” I asked.