by K. Webster
Koyn (Royal Bastards MC)
Copyright © 2019 K Webster
Cover Design: Jay Aheer
Editor: Emily A. Lawrence
Formatting: Champagne Book Design
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Title Page
Copyright
About This Book
Dedication
Royal Bastards Code
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
Epilogue
Bermuda’s Fluffy Nonsense
Playlist
Acknowledgements
About K Webster
Books by K Webster
I had it all.
Family. Career. A future.
Until a couple of bikers brutally took it away from me.
They scarred me both inside and out, killing the man I once was.
Jared Koynakov is dead and Koyn rose from the ashes.
Ten years later, I live by a code that is shaped by hate, anger, and revenge.
As prez, I’ve built a brotherhood of men who share the same thirst for vengeance and are loyal until the end.
Together, we will find those bastards and end them.
Every last one of them.
All it takes is one slip, and I almost have them in my grasp.
Until a pretty pageant girl, who looks far too much like my daughter, steps into the fray, causing the ultimate distraction.
I must choose between my revenge and being her savior.
I’m one helluva biker with a taste for torture, but I’m an even better daddy…
Matt,
Thanks for listening to every single torture scene I describe in detail
and still going to bed with me each night.
Your bravery inspires every hero and each villain.
Love, Your Scarily Imaginative Wife
PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else, and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.
RESPECT: Earn it and give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.
HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.
OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s ol’ lady. PERIOD.
CHURCH is MANDATORY.
LOYALTY: Takes precedence over all, including well-being.
HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.
TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.
TRUST: Years to earn it…seconds to lose it.
NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.
ROYAL BASTARDS MC SERIES
Erin Trejo: Blood Lust
Chelle C Craze & Eli Abbott: Bad Like Me
K Webster: Koyn
Esther E. Schmidt: Petros
Elizabeth Knox: Bet On Me
Glenna Maynard: Lady & the Biker
Madison Faye: Hard Bastard
CM Genovese: Frozen Rain
J. Lynn Lombard: Blayze’s Inferno
Crimson Syn: Inked In Vengeance
B.B. Blaque: Rotten Apple
Addison Jane: Her Ransom
Izzy Sweet * Sean Moriarty: Broken Wings
Nikki Landis: Ridin’ For Hell
KL Ramsey: Savage Heat
M.Merin: Axel
Sapphire Knight: Bastard
Bink Cummings: Switch Burn
Winter Travers: Playboy
Linny Lawless: The Heavy Crown
Jax Hart: Desert King
Elle Boon: Royally Broken
Kristine Allen: Voodoo
Ker Dukey: Animal
KE Osborn: Defining Darkness
Shannon Youngblood: Silver & Lace
Royal Bastards MC Facebook Group
Website
Jared
Ten Years Ago…
“I’ll think about it,” I tell my brother. “I’m swamped, though, with the—”
“I haven’t seen your scrawny ass in a year,” Jeremy growls. “A whole goddamn year.”
Again with the guilt trip.
“It’s just this contract I have with the NSA. It’s huge. I can’t up and leave to eat fucking turkey with you because you miss me.”
His heavy sigh rattles through the speakers of my Escalade. “You missed last Thanksgiving.”
“Did you call me to pout because I already have enough of that going on with Blaire right now?”
“No shit? What now?”
“D.C. class trip she insists on going on.”
“Long way from Houston,” he says with a whistle. “She’d actually have to leave the bubble.”
“Which is exactly why I said no.”
“And what did Ellie have to say?”
“That I’m being an overbearing asshole and if I don’t let Blaire leave the nest some, she’ll leave me for good.” I rub at the back of my neck as I pull in front of the gate of my massive house. “She’s seventeen, for fuck’s sake. I have a death grip on her at least until May when she graduates.”
Jeremy chuckles. “It’s a class trip, Jared…”
“With boys,” I snarl.
“And now we get to the crux of the matter. Boys. One day some fool is going to deflower your daughter. You know this, right? She can’t die a virgin.”
I roll down my window and type in the code to give me access past the gate. “I’m going to sure as hell try and make that happen. She’s my little girl, man.”
“Well, at least bring my niece and sister-in-law up here to see me. T-Town is lonely without my little bro. I’m not above begging.”
“I’ll try,” I tell him and mean it. “I’m at the house. Ellie texted earlier. She’s making some low carb eggplant shit. I might be dead before Thanksgiving.”
He snorts. “The things we do for love.”
“You’re calling it love now? You and Krista back together?”
“Blake needs a mom and dad.”
“He’s eight. Practically a man now. You don’t really have to sacrifice your happiness to make your son happy,” I remind him for the millionth time as I pull into one of the four garage bays.
“He just seems happier when we’re all together. I can put up with Krista’s cunty wa
ys for my boy.”
I roll my eyes. For how long, though? Until she fucks another one of his colleagues?
“You’re a saint.” I shut off the Escalade and climb out, grabbing my messenger bag. After dinner, I have more shit to work on. This contract will make me millions. “I need to kiss my wife and eat eggplant shit. I’ll call you when we’re on our way.”
“You’re going to come?” He fucking shrieks like a goddamn female.
“I’ll probably work the whole time, but yeah, we’ll come for the holidays.”
“Love you, bro. See you next week.”
I hang up and pocket my phone in my slacks before shouldering my bag. My mind is on Blaire and how I’ll make it up to her for not saying yes to the class trip. She’s had her eye on a new Mustang. When I step into the house, I ready myself for the assaulting scent of eggplant. The smell that hits me confuses me, though.
Body odor.
Grease.
Sweat.
Blood.
“Ellz Bellz, babe,” I call out, trying to ignore the oily feeling spreading through my veins threatening to drown me. “Did we change our mind about dinner?”
The kitchen is empty. Food is spread out all over the counter where she was in the middle of prepping dinner. My heart rate speeds up. I toss my laptop on the table and stride out of the kitchen toward the living room.
“Blaire, sweetheart, where’s your mother—” My words are sliced right from my tongue as I take in the scene, blinking my eyes several times in confusion.
And then panic hits.
Blaire and Ellie, sitting on their knees, their wrists bound behind their backs, tears soaking their red faces. Both wearing matching strips of duct tape over their mouths. Not thinking about anything but their safety, I rush to them. My fingers brush along my wife’s wet cheek before something hits me hard in the head.
Black.
Black.
Black.
I blink away my unconsciousness, trying to make sense of where I’m at or what’s happening.
“And so he finally wakes,” a gruff voice says, stomping over to me.
He grips my hair and jerks my head back. I stare into a pair of cruel blue eyes. The bearded man has long, greasy blond hair and a wiry beard. His breath reeks of alcohol and rotting teeth.
“M-My wife—”
He pistol-whips me and I nearly black out again. What the fuck is happening? I try to take a swing at the guy, but my hands are tightly tied behind my back.
“Your wife doesn’t belong to you anymore,” the man growls. “She’s my property. My prize for a job well done.”
“Y-You want money?” I hiss out. “You can have it. Name your price and it’s yours. Just leave them alone. Don’t hurt them.”
Blaire’s squeal sets my soul on fire.
“Too late,” the man says. “They’re hurting and your money can’t stop that.”
I try to see around him. “B-Blaire, baby!”
“Aww,” the man taunts. “This is heartfelt. He needs to see his daughter.” He steps away, revealing her to me. When I see her, I’m blinded by tears.
No.
Not my little girl.
Naked and bleeding and sobbing. Her mother lies in the same state on the ground beside her, unmoving but alive.
“Let them go,” I roar, fury burning hot through me. “I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want, but let them go. Now.”
The man laughs. “What I want is for you to watch me take from you.”
“No,” I snarl, trying to stand. A strong hand from behind me holds me down on my knees. So there are at least two of them.
“Yes, motherfucker. So much yes. Watch how I make her squeal like a pig.” He licks his lips. “Haven’t had me a virgin in a fucking long time.”
I fight against the hold of the man behind me as I stare helplessly at Blaire. Her dark brown hair is sweaty and messy. Just this morning it was perfectly straight. She could barely look up from her phone as she sassed me about the fucking D.C. trip. It feels like a lifetime ago. I don’t understand how we got from there to here in a matter of twelve hours.
“Blaire, baby, listen to me,” I plead. “Just look at Daddy. Don’t look at him.”
She sobs and gags and, fuck, she looks so helpless.
The man unbuckles his belt and I lose it. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you monster!”
He cocks his head to the side. “Threats get you nowhere with me, asshole.” With practiced ease, he whips out a sharp knife and stalks over to my family. He grabs Ellie by her dark hair and drags her to her feet. Dull eyes spark to life as she makes eye contact with me. She squirms and kicks to no avail, attempting to scream past the duct tape covering her mouth.
“Ellie,” I choke out through my tears. “Fuck, Ellie!”
The man holds her naked body against his. “Rancid had a wonderful time tearing up her tight asshole. She definitely never let her husband have her ass. That was pretty fucking obvious with how she screamed and bled.” He shakes his head at me. “Should have broken her in while you had the chance. Could have saved her a lot of pain.”
“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”
I’m yanked back and the guy behind me—Rancid—forcefully slaps a strip of duct tape over my mouth. He’s bigger and stronger than me. I’ve never been a small guy, but compared to these monsters, I feel fucking puny and useless.
“Just so you know,” the man holding Ellie says. “This isn’t personal. It was fucking delightful and I enjoyed it immensely, but at the end of the day, this was a job.”
A job?
I glower at him, wishing I could make him fucking explode on sheer willpower alone.
“So when I do this,” he says, “it’s just business.”
The breath is sucked out of me when he jabs the knife into Ellie’s abdomen one-two-three-four-five-six times. Hot tears roll down my cheeks as blood gushes from her wounds. She blacks out from the pain and I know I’ll never see her pretty brown eyes again. I close my eyes and beg God for her to pass quickly because it’s too fucking cruel for her to remain in the arms of a sick bastard, suffering.
A thud on the floor makes me snap my eyes back open. Ellie remains lifeless as the blood pools around her. I’m shocked. Horrified. Disgusted. Helpless. Blaire’s sobs demand my attention. I stare at my beautiful daughter—my sweet little girl who just wanted to see the goddamn capitol of the United States. The girl who loved shopping and going to the movies and jet skiing. My baby girl who used to not mind being trapped in Daddy’s bubble of protection.
At least we’ll all die together.
I have no doubt they’re going to kill us all.
I just wish they’d slit her throat and end it now. I can’t bear to watch them destroy my baby like they did my wife. I can’t fucking do it.
But I don’t get a say in this shit.
“This, though,” the man says, yanking my daughter to her feet. “This is personal. A prize for my hard work. Killing her seems too easy. Not before I enjoy myself a little anyway.”
I shake my head, snarling like a barely caged bull. Fury burns like lava through my veins. I try to stand, but Rancid holds me tight.
Her screams of terror become a living, breathing organism—thrashing and throbbing and moving inside me. I feel every single one to the marrow of my bones. This is hell. I was a god with more money than I knew what to do with, but I’ve been reduced to a prisoner meant to watch the most horrific thing I’ll ever have to endure. I’d give up the money, the cars, everything to rewind back to this morning and get the fuck out of this town.
I want to be there for her. To save her. To hold her. To promise her everything will be okay. I can’t, though, and that realization cracks me down the middle. My sanity bleeds from me, mixing with my wife’s blood on the floor. My child’s screams echo through me as the man tears through her innocence. As he takes what was never his. As he destroys her. I can’t watch him. I’m a failure as a father—I can’t even watch her demise. I�
�m a coward. I’m empty.
My blood runs cold as I harden myself.
When I die here shortly, I don’t want my last thoughts being of my daughter being brutally assaulted by a psychopath. She cries and cries and cries until she doesn’t cry anymore. The grunting and slapping flesh become distant in my mind. Everything is black. Everything is black. Everything is black.
The same sickening sounds the knife made as it ended my wife can be heard once more. This time, in my baby girl’s neck. The blood. So much blood.
Death.
Death.
We’re dying.
My family is dead.
I want to go with them.
Blackblackblackblackblack.
Rancid’s laughter haunts my soul and then his knife is on my face. Carving. Slicing. Gouging. The pain is nothing compared to the pain inside me. Blood runs down my cheeks, heavy and hot.
I get a good look at him and smell his dank breath. Looks just like the other motherfucker. Wears the same leather vest. BBB is embroidered in the material over a skull.
“X marks the spot,” Rancid says, pressing his thumb between my eyes, digging into where he cut me, and shoving me to the floor. “All the treasures hidden up there in that expensive brain of yours. It’s a shame we can’t use that.”
The men laugh and I watch with disgust as the other man pulls out his dripping cock, soaked in the blood of my daughter. Her lifeless body slumps to the floor, landing on her dead mother. My two stars have faded to black.
Mine.
They took mine.
They. Took. Mine.
Rage, explosive and out of control, detonates. No longer being held down by Rancid, I use the moment to my advantage. I burst to my feet and launch myself at Rancid. My shoulder connects with the middle of his back. He slams into the other guy, who’s still trying to put his dick back in his pants. They stumble, tripping over the other. I raise my foot and kick Rancid hard, sending his head popping against the coffee table. When he doesn’t get up, I charge the other guy.
His knife is still buried in my daughter’s neck. Thanks for helping Daddy, baby girl. I head-butt the guy and he falls on his ass. Not wasting any time, I slam my foot down on his nose, loving the sick popping sound of it breaking. Over and over I smash my dress shoe into his face. He manages to roll away from me.
