Lock and Load: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel

by Kristine Allen

  LOCK AND LOAD, 1st Edition Copyright 2019 by Kristine Allen, Demented Sons Publishing.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Published in the United States of America. First published in August 2019.

  Cover Design: Clarise Tan, CT Cover Creations, www.ctcovercreations.com

  Photographer: FuriousFotog, www.furiousfotog.com

  Cover Model: Dylan Horsch

  Editing: Olivia Ventura, Hot Tree Editing, www.hottreeediting.com

  Formatting: Champagne Book Design, www.champagnebookdesign.com

  The purchase of this e-book, or book, allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. This does not include the right to resell, distribute, print or transfer this book, in whole or in part to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (www. fbi.gov/ipr). Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. For information, contact the author at kristine.allen.author@gmail.com. Thank you for supporting this author and her rights.

  Warning: This book may contain offensive language, violence, and sexual situations. Mature audiences only, 18+ years of age.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  Other Books

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To my grandma. You were here to see the success of my first book and your pride in me was humbling. I miss you more than you know. I hope you’re still proud. Love you forever.

  Taking the last curve before we hit the straightaway, I leaned the bike heavily to the side. I knew I was going fast, but I’d done this a million times.

  Letty had her arms tight around my waist, and her laughter carried on the wind. Every so often, I caught a whiff of her perfume, and it made me want to go faster to get to the clubhouse. It was our first night out in ages.

  Feeling on top of the fucking world, I certainly wasn’t prepared for the events that unfolded.

  As I entered the tightest part of the curve, I started to increase the throttle.

  There was no time to react, because I didn’t see it coming. What was normally a smooth asphalt road was scattered with fine gravel.

  Both tires broke loose, and the air was filled with the screeching of metal on asphalt and Letty’s screams. Within seconds, there was silence, broken only by the gasps of my labored breaths.

  It took too long to regain my breath and roll over. When I tried to push myself up, I fell flat on my face, whacking my helmet on the ground. The pain hit me in waves that nearly took my breath away again.

  The unnatural angle of my arm told me what adrenaline had initially masked.

  Fuck.

  “Letty? Baby? Where are you?” My voice croaked as I tried to see if anything else was broken. Both legs seemed to be intact, so I used my good arm to get to my knees. “Letty?” When she didn’t answer, I shouted for her. “Letty!”

  The only answer was the sound of crickets and the hiss of the bike where it rested in a crumpled mess. The headlight lit up the ditch, but beyond that was the deepest black.

  “Letty!” Scanning the road, I shakily struggled to my feet. I couldn’t see her anywhere, and she wouldn’t answer me. My heart was racing, and I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

  With my shaking hand, I fumbled for my phone. It was in the inside pocket of the side of my good arm, so it was a feat to get it out. Finally, I was able to free it from the confines of my jacket and I turned the flashlight on.

  Shining it up and down the road, I didn’t see anything but the trail the bike had left across the asphalt. Checking the ditch next, I searched around the bike. Nothing.

  “What the fuck? Letty! Where are you?” Panic was starting to set in, and I didn’t normally succumb to shit like that. Realizing I still had my helmet on, I struggled with one working arm until I ripped it off and threw it down the ditch.

  Goddammit!

  As I lit up the patch in front of me, I stumbled. Luckily, I caught myself before I fell on my fucked-up arm again. Moving cautiously through the tall grass, I finally saw something up in the field and pointed my light in that direction. It reflected off the Harley Davidson on the back of her jacket.

  Relief hit me like a sledgehammer.

  “Letty!” Jogging toward her in the tilled-up earth was like running through knee-deep snow. Every step was in slow motion. By the time I reached her, I was aching and feeling every jolt and roll I’d had on the road.

  She wasn’t moving, and I immediately called 9-1-1 as I dropped to my knees beside her. Terrified to turn her over and exacerbate any injuries she’d sustained, I tucked the phone next to my ear and used my functioning hand to press against her throat.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

  Panic began to creep in like an insidious fog. Moving further up her neck, I told myself my fingers were in the wrong place.

  “Come on. Baby. Help me out!”

  “Sir? What’s your emergency?”

  “My ol’ lady and I were in an accident.” Rattling off our location, I tried again to find a pulse. “Letty…, please. God, please.” I tried everywhere I could reach. Her neck, her wrists after jerking off her gloves, and back to her neck in case I’d fucked up.

  The phone dropped to the ground and the light shone out into the field as the unthinkable began to sink in. Sobbing like a baby, I dragged her into my lap with one arm. Unable to remove her helmet, I choked on my tears as her head lolled at a sickening angle.

  “Letty. Oh God, Letty…. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry. Baby. I love you. Please, baby, wake up.” Rational thought was gone. I was a fucking mess.

  Sitting in the dark field with her lifeless body cradled to my chest, I fell apart.

  By the time the sirens sounded in the distance, my tortured screams were echoing into the dark ni
ght sky.

  “Broken Glass”—Three Days Grace

  “Ask me to tear down a Harley motor and I’m all over that shit. Piece by piece, I could put it back together with my fucking eyes closed. But now I’m tryin’ to do pigtails and teach a little girl to potty. What the fuck happened to my life? I wasn’t supposed to be doing this alone.” I ran a hand roughly through my hair.

  “I’m sorry, little brother. I don’t know what to say.” Gunny, my brother in the club and my older brother by blood, dropped to my couch. His expression held helpless sorrow for me, and while I appreciated it, I was sick of it.

  The past year had been pure hell. I’d had to fight Letty’s no-good, meth-head family for custody of Presley. The shitty thing was, they didn’t really want her. They’d only wanted the social security they’d get by having her. They’d drained my bank account.

  Money was so tight thanks to them, I’d had to borrow my brother’s bar-hopper bike to ride so I didn’t get kicked out of the club. I couldn’t afford a new one after the accident. My insurance hadn’t even paid off my loan. Thank God for GAP insurance.

  The whole county knew they were scum, but they’d tried everything from accusing me of being in a violent motorcycle gang, to having PTSD that would put my child’s life in jeopardy, to being a trained killer from being in the army. The worst, though, was their accusations that I’d been abusive to Letty. Which was absolute bullshit, and everyone for miles knew it.

  That’s the curse of being in a small town. Everyone knows your business.

  I was tired of people feeling sorry for me, and I was tired of seeing Letty’s ghost everywhere I went. Even the couch Gunny was sitting on was one she’d picked out. She’d decorated my house. Painted Presley’s room Disney princess pink. Her stamp was literally everywhere and it was smothering me.

  So was I running? Maybe. Was it for my own fucking sanity? Absolutely.

  What I didn’t tell anyone was that I’d started getting anonymous threats about someone taking Presley from me. I assumed it was her shitty grandparents, another reason I couldn’t wait to get out of town.

  “There’s nothing to say. It is what it is, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stay any longer.” My elbows rested on my knees, my hands dangling. Shoulders slouched, I’d never experienced such defeat. Not even when I’d been downrange and shit went south.

  You’d think that might’ve prepared me for anything. Instead, I was the proud owner of one helluva vile temper, the wildest case of insomnia known to man, and I was struggling to keep my life in order. But regardless of what Presley’s piece-of-shit grandparents said, I loved my daughter and I’d never do anything to hurt her.

  “I wish you’d rethink this. Mom and Dad are gonna hate that they’ll miss Elvis’s birthday.”

  “I know, but I need out of here. Trust me, I’ve thought this all to fucking death. The job is waiting, and Styx said my jump to their chapter was a go.” Styx had been up visiting for a few months. I’d talked to him and Snow about it after the first threat came through, and when he’d gotten back to Texas, he’d talked to his prez. The chapter had put it to the vote. I probably should have involved the club regarding the threats, but Letty’s parents weren’t their problem.

  He shook his head as he mimicked my position with his forearms on his knees.

  “Daddy! Unka Gunny!” The patter of little feet across the wood floors preceded a whirlwind of wild curls that refused to be tamed. All I saw was that mass of blonde hair, pink unicorn pajamas on backwards, and a floppy stuffed dragon before twenty-five pounds of raw energy launched herself into my brother’s lap.

  “Hey, Elvis. Good morning. What’s up with this hair?” He held her in his massive arms as she used both palms to push the crazy curls out of her face. My mom said she looked like a little Shirley Temple doll.

  “I gwoh it wike Wuhpunzo. Wight, Daddy?” Despite my earlier melancholy mood, I smiled. She’d been the only thing that had kept me pulling air into my lungs some days.

  “Sure, princess.” I was a heartless dick, which made me the perfect sergeant at arms for the club. But with her, I was mush. She had me wrapped so tight around her little pinky, I wondered how I functioned at times.

  “You haffa bwaid it wike Ewsa, Daddy.” Gunny laughed as I groaned.

  “Presley, did you go potty when you woke up?” I belatedly thought to ask her. I was utterly failing at this single-dad business.

  Her face screwed up in a grouchy little frown as she crossed her arms belligerently. “I no haff to.”

  Gunny poked at the back of her pajama pants, then gave me a wrinkled-nose look. In other words, it was too late.

  “Did you pee in your pull-up?” Exasperation bled through my words.

  “No.”

  “Presley,” I drew out in warning.

  She jumped off Gunny’s lap and hauled ass back down the hall.

  “Be right back,” I tiredly muttered as I stood to follow the little shit.

  Gunny chuckled and stood as well. “I’ll start some breakfast.”

  “Roger that,” I confirmed as I stalked down the hall after my little hellion.

  The few moments the conversation with Gunny took was all the time Presley needed to strip naked in her room.

  Fists propped on my hips, I narrowed my gaze at her. “Where is your pull-up, and where are your pajamas?”

  Big, innocent blue eyes blinked up at me. “I fowded my jammies.” Sure enough, they were sort of folded, more wadded, and sitting on her rumpled princess toddler bed. The pull-up was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is the pull-up?” I demanded, and she simply shrugged. Sighing, I knew I’d have to look for it before it stunk up the entire house.

  I snagged a few wet wipes from the packet on her dresser. “Come here. Let’s wipe you off.”

  Cleaning her so she didn’t get sore was something I’d learned the hard way in an incident I never wanted to repeat.

  Once that was done, I started to open her drawers and closet to pull out clothes, but she grabbed the little padded-crotch panties from me. “I do it mysewf. I’s a big gewl. You go.”

  Raising my brows, I couldn’t believe the little termagant I’d raised. She was hell on wheels. “Fine.”

  As I returned to the kitchen, Gunny had bacon frying and eggs scrambled in a bowl. Ever since he and his ol’ lady had split, he’d started coming to our house nearly every morning. We’d take turns making breakfast.

  I wondered what he’d do after I left and experienced a moment of regret for my decision.

  “Where’s Elvis?” he asked over his shoulder.

  Chuckling, I shook my head. “Well, she was naked.”

  A bark of laughter exploded from him.

  “And now she’s dressing herself.” I grinned.

  “Oh Lord.” We both were aware of the possibilities she might come out wearing.

  The little pixie didn’t disappoint.

  It wasn’t long before she came out in a black T-shirt with the Harley-Davidson bar and shield in hot pink, a pair of denim shorts, an orange tutu, and little pink Chucks with the laces dragging. Oh, and dangling from one hand was a sparkling silver tiara. The other held her purple hairbrush and a hairband.

  “Hewe, Daddy.” She held out the hair stuff.

  I plopped into a kitchen chair and positioned her to stand between my knees. Carefully running the brush through the ringlets spilling around in a wild array, I got all the sleep tangles worked out.

  Per our routine, she held out her hand for the brush when I was done. I handed it to her, then turned her to the side. Pulling the soft curls to the side, I struggled to get my thick fingers to separate them in three parts. It was barely long enough to braid into a three-to-four-inch braid but she was happy and that was all that mattered.

  Once I finished, she plopped the tiara on her head and turned to me. I grinned at how fitting it was that it was lopsided. Kind of like a crooked little halo.

  “Tie my shoes, pwease.” She w
as proper and regal enough that she fit her plastic crown.

  As my princess requested, I tied the laces of her shoes and she went to grab her little backpack she took to daycare. “School,” as she called it.

  She was my perfect little tomboy princess, and I wouldn’t have her any other way.

  Setting the plates on the table, Gunny grinned at me. “You’ve gotten pretty good at that. How the hell did you figure that shit out?”

  Rolling my eyes, I huffed. “Trust me, you can find anything you might need on YouTube these days. To include ‘how to braid.’ Want me to forward it to you?” I raised a brow as I smirked at him.

  Chuckling, he held up a hand. “I’m good, but thanks.”

  Tromping up to the table, she dropped her backpack by her chair, climbed into the seat, and began to eat the plate of food Gunny put in front of her. The way she ate, you’d think she was a starved wild animal instead of the princess she was dressed like. Letty was probably rolling in her grave at the job I was doing with Presley. But dammit, I was trying.

  Mouth stuffed full, she turned to Gunny. “Unka Gunny! We moobing to Tessas!”

  Somber, he stared at her. “I know, little Elvis. I know.”

  To her it was a grand adventure that I’d played up to the hilt. To me it was an escape. A chance at new beginnings.

  We all finished eating, and by then I was running late, so the dishes were all tossed in the sink. I sent up an apology to Letty, because I knew that shit had driven her crazy.

  Rushing out the door, Gunny hopped on his bike, and I buckled the princess in as she chattered nonstop. When we reached the end of the road, he took a left as I took a right to swing Presley by daycare.

  “Daddy! I wate!” she shouted from the back seat. She wasn’t late, since there was no official start time for daycare, but we’d missed curb drop-off. To her, that was late.

  “We’re fine, baby girl.” I whipped into a parking spot and shut off the truck. Jumping down from my seat, I rushed to get her unbuckled or she was gonna trip the fuck out.

  As soon as her feet hit the ground, she tried to run off toward the building. Used to being on my toes with her, I quickly snagged her by her backpack. “Whoa there, speedy!”