Koyn (Royal Bastards MC)

by K. Webster

  “Hey, Prez,” a feminine voice purrs from my office doorway.

  Stormy.

  I let out a sigh and close out of what I was looking at before turning in my seat to regard her. She looks like a total slut today in her short shorts and fitted tank that dips low, nearly showing her nipples that are poking through the fabric. Her long blond hair hangs in waves in front of her shoulders and her red lips have been painted up.

  “Hey,” I grunt out.

  “You seen Filter?”

  “He’s busy.”

  She pouts and prances into my office like it’s her goddamn right. Stormy has gotten too damn comfortable around here. Whereas the guys all live on the compound because we’re a fucking family—Stormy overstays her welcome, shacking up with Filter like she’s his old lady.

  “Whatcha workin’ on?”

  “Cut the shit, Stormy. What do you want?”

  Her lips part in shock at my tone. “Who says I want something?”

  I glower at her, not in the fucking mood for games.

  “Fine, I need money. Filter always gives me some when I need to buy stuff, but I can’t find him and he’s not answering his phone.”

  “How much do you need?”

  “Not much.”

  I pull out my wallet and drop it on the desk. I’ve got about five hundred on me.

  “Six grand is all,” she says, shrugging.

  Excuse the fuck out of me. “Six grand? What the hell do you need six grand for?” I bellow. “I fucking feed your ass, clothe your ass, and put a roof over your ass.”

  She flinches. “No need to get all pissy, Koyn. I just thought you’d have it is all.”

  “Of course I have it, goddammit. But I’m not handing it over without you telling me what the fuck it is you need it for.”

  “Boobs. These are ugly.” She squeezes her tits through her tank and bites on her bottom lip.

  I whip open my wallet and toss a hundred at her. “Go buy a fucking bra. There. Problem solved. Now get the hell out of my office.”

  Her face burns red, but she snatches up the bill before stomping off. I stop her with a sharp bark of her name. She turns around and glares icily at me.

  “The Royal Bastards are not a fucking bank,” I growl. “If I ever catch you taking advantage of any of these guys—especially Filter—I will make you a past problem, Stormy. You can be the bottom of Keystone Lake’s problem. You feel me?”

  She swallows hard. “Yeah, I feel you.”

  “Get the fuck out of my sight.”

  I need a goddamn cigarette.

  Most everyone’s in the garage, working on shit, when Copper and Halo strut in with their laptops. From the leather couch that sits in a corner, I nod at them to join me. Stormy is practically dry humping Filter from behind as he attempts to change the oil on his bike. Bizzy stares at her ass like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. I’m thankful to get a reprieve from this shit.

  “Find anything?” I ask, blowing out smoke and stubbing my cigarette out in the ashtray on the table in front of me.

  It’s cool this late afternoon because of the morning thunderstorm, so it feels nice sitting in the garage and listening to classic rock Payne has playing on the stereo. Copper and Halo drop down beside me on either side.

  “Anything from Dragon?”

  “Yeah,” Halo grunts. “He’s on his way. Had to fix his hair.”

  Copper snorts. “Fucking pussy.”

  The pussy in question saunters into the garage, grinning like a goddamn fool. He has his own laptop tucked under his arm. If he were walking down Rodeo Drive, they’d think he was modeling for a fucking biker clothing line. He doesn’t even look like a real biker. If I didn’t know what a crazy-ass psychopath he was, I’d think he was a goddamn poser too.

  He pushes away the ashtray and sits down on the coffee table in front of me, his green eyes glittering with delight. “Hey, Prez.”

  “Did you bathe in Axe aftershave before coming out here?” I complain. “You fucking reek, man.”

  He smirks. “I smell lickable. Ask Stormy.”

  “He does smell lickable,” she confirms from across the garage.

  This earns her a swat to her ass by Filter.

  “Whatever,” I grumble, eager to get this shit on with. “What did you three amigos find?”

  “We can save the best for last,” Dragon says in a cryptic way that makes me want to shake out everything he knows right this second.

  Copper launches into his findings before I get the chance. He pulls open his laptop and shows me a series of pictures. “There’s an open case on him in Texas. A string of murders. Teenage girls. Brutally beaten and raped. DNA matches Putnam. But once he took the kid and fell off the map, the case grew cold. There’s a warrant out for him, but nothing else in the database.”

  And Ellie and Blaire’s murders aren’t even on that list, because at the time, we didn’t know who the fuck did this shit.

  “Halo?”

  “Putnam’s name pops up with my military contacts too. Brody says the border security was having a huge issue with a local El Paso MC gang around a decade ago, but then they all just vanished.” Halo taps on the screen. “BBBs.”

  Copper clutches my shoulder. “We know you were responsible for the elimination of the BBBs in El Paso, so that’s not new, but what we didn’t know was what exactly they were doing over there. Halo said his guy Brody said they were smuggling in weapons from Mexico to sell to private contractors.”

  “Private contractors?”

  “Firms kind of like the one you owned,” Copper says. “Those private contractors had gigs with the NSA and were basically selling smuggled weapons back to the government at astronomical prices. All in the name of national defense.”

  “Putnam was with the BBBs who’d been paid to run guns, but after what happened to your family, and then the subsequent slaying of their entire chapter, he ghosted out of there,” Halo tells me. “Poof.”

  “I know your next thought is back on Putnam and where he went,” my brother says, “but I wanted more information on these private contractors. So I did some digging and found a handful we still need to check out. Putnam was obviously in with someone and I want to know who. It might lead us to where he’s at now.”

  Dragon, who’d been quiet until this point, leans forward, grinning his boy band smile at me, a dark curl of hair falling over his brow. “While you dinosaurs were roaming the databases, I did a little social media stalking. Found this.” He shows me his laptop screen. “Putnam is old like you fuckers, so he doesn’t have any accounts, but his son…this has to be him.”

  Junior “Milk” Putnam.

  He pulls up a picture of some kid who has the same dirty blond hair and icy blue eyes I remember. The kid looks just like Putnam did back then. Those eyes. Gleaming with intent. I fist my hand, wanting to punch the fucking screen. Instead, I study his black leather cut.

  Roaring River MC.

  “Arkansas,” Dragon says. “I looked at some of his pictures and there are a bunch with him at a bar with some chick. She tags him in a lot of shit. The bar’s four hours from here outside of Little Rock.”

  “You think Putnam’s there?” I growl.

  “Roaring River MC doesn’t have any legitimate shit like the Royal Bastards MC, so there’s nothing official online for them, but I did message that girl. Juicy.” Dragon snorts. “She’s just a club slut. I told her I was looking for a badass chapter to patch into in the area. The bitch just blabbed all about their club. When Church is. When they fucking party. Who to come see…” His grin turns sinister. “I asked her if Milk was her boyfriend. She said they fuck around but she’s not married to him or anything and if I’m cute she might suck my dick.” He shrugs.

  Pussy magnet.

  The fucker will charm his way into the pants of any woman.

  “And who are you to go see when you get there?” My blood is boiling with the need to maim—destroy—kill.

  “Magna. Milk’s
daddy.”

  No fucking way.

  I’m about to explode with the information, desperate to hop on my bike and haul ass to Little Rock so I can put the bullet in Putnam’s—or Magna’s—skull tonight. But I have to be smart about this. I need Alec Walker.

  “Guns. Load up Copper’s truck. He and I’ll ride together with the weapons. I want the rest of you following on your bikes. We’re going to see Alec first.” I scrub my palm down my face as we stand, thrumming with pent-up energy.

  “The Animal? That Alec?” Halo asks, his brows lifted.

  “We need backup. He’ll know the area and he’s a ruthless fucker. We’ll need his local connections so this shit doesn’t hit the news. I’m going to blow them all the fuck up. Magna will watch his son die like I watched Blaire die.”

  All three guys hang their heads, no doubt feeling my pain.

  “I want to leave by seven. This shit ends tonight.”

  After they leave, I dial my buddy Alec. I met him at a bar passing through one day. He’s a fucking psycho, but these days, who isn’t? He picks up on the third ring.

  “I’m going to kill Magna and every motherfucker in that club,” I blurt out in way of greeting. “You with me or not?”

  He chuckles. “My man Koyn. Good talking to you, brother. Let’s see…Magna beat the shit out of my friend’s little sister and put her in the hospital last month. No proof, but her word’s good enough for me. I’ve been looking for a way to bury that motherfucker that won’t land me in the pen.”

  “My brother’s a Fed. Ain’t nobody getting locked up over that piece of shit. You feel me?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “We’re headed your way. Give me four and a half hours.”

  “See you soon, man. About time we take out the motherfucking trash around here.”

  Hadley

  I grab the first beer I find and chug it down, blinking back the tears in my eyes. My throat is raw, but worse yet, I can still taste his pungent, salty seed. I just sucked off Skunk. The crazy-ass prez around here. I fucking hate Magna.

  Casting a glance over my shoulder, I’m thankful to see he’s got his fingers in some club bitch who seems to be enjoying his company. He’s a filthy bastard. I straighten my spine, thankful I didn’t have to fuck him, and head for the back of the bar. I’m feeling emotionally brittle and used, but I’ve made it this far. I won’t stop now.

  Moans resound from behind a door that leads to a storage room. The hairs rise on my arms. Hurt, unimaginable hurt, slices through me. Milk gave me my first kiss when I was a few days from turning thirteen. I’ve been in love with the sixteen-year-old boy ever since. He’s been my first everything. Took my virginity on my trampoline under the stars when I was almost fifteen. Milk is the only man I’ve even thought about fucking around with.

  But I’ve sucked his dad’s dick.

  His jizz that I was forced to swallow churns with the warm beer in my stomach. I want to puke my guts up. After. First, I need to rip every hair off Juicy’s nappy head. I suck in a breath, preparing myself for the scene that will rip my heart out.

  Just go.

  Get it over with.

  I push into the storage room in time to see Milk driving into Juicy from behind. Like he wasn’t just inside me an hour ago.

  “You asshole,” I choke out, grabbing the first thing I see. A can of green beans. “You fucking asshole!”

  The green bean can sails past him and hits the floor. It’s then he realizes I’m standing there watching him fuck that slut bag. I snag another can of food, lobbing it at her head. She screams when it hits her right on the cheek, splitting the skin.

  “What the fuck, Hadley?” he roars as he pulls out of her and yanks up his jeans.

  I launch another can his way, but he ducks out of the way. It makes impact with Juicy, who cries out. His hand finds my throat and he storms out of the storage room with me in his grip. Fire gleams in his blue eyes and he reeks of Jack Daniel’s. I claw at his hand so he’ll release me, but he only tightens his grip. My head slams hard against a wall, dizzying me.

  “You cheating sick fuck!” I choke out, tears streaking down my cheeks.

  “For the last goddamn time, you ain’t my old lady!”

  “And she is?!”

  “She’s just a warm hole. Like you, Hadley.”

  His words knock me off my axis. Everything spins around me. Between my airway being restricted and his hateful words, I’m suffocating.

  “We could always share,” Juicy says as she struts out of the storage room, tenderly touching the cut on her cheek. “If you weren’t such an uptight, snotty bitch.”

  I struggle against his hold to try and claw at her. He pins me with his hips, tightening his grip.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Juicy,” he barks out. “Hadley and I have to clear the fucking air about what we aren’t.” He loosens his grip, allowing me to gulp in cool air. “We aren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. We aren’t husband and wife. We’re nothing but two kids who used to fuck and still do. You’re my friend. Least you were before you started trying to control my every move. Before you let my father fucking finger you.”

  I squirm in his hold, hot tears leaking down my cheeks. “Are you fucking serious right now?” I screech. “I’ve loved you since I was thirteen. I knew I wanted to marry you when you started driving and you fingered me for the first time in your old truck. It was always us for me.”

  He curls his lip up. “Sorry it wasn’t fucking mutual, babe.”

  “You’re a cruel bastard just like your father!”

  His blue eyes darken. “And you’re a prissy cunt like yours!”

  “Magna made me suck him off,” I tell him, my bottom lip wobbling. “He made me blow him because you weren’t there to protect me!”

  “Fuck off with the damsel in distress shit, Hadley. It’s real fuckin’ old.”

  He releases me and starts to walk away, but I’m not done here. I shove him, a strangled cry escaping me. Quicker than lightning, he swivels around, his icy blue eyes cutting through me, and swings his fist.

  Crack!

  I stumble backward and fall on my ass. Pain explodes across my jaw from the hard-ass punch that makes me feel like he broke something. Fuck this and him. I’ll go back home. Dad had his issues, but he never hurt me like this. Sure, he did some shit we fought over and that still fucks with my head, but he never punched me. I crawl away from the boy I loved, needing to escape desperately. I’ve almost made it back to the solace of the storage room when his boot connects with my ribs.

  Blinding white pain bursts through my nerve endings, nearly making me black out. I fall face first onto the sticky linoleum, a sob trembling through me.

  “You’re nothing but a whore, Hadley,” he sneers. “A selfish whore.”

  Another kick to the ribs.

  I have to get away.

  It takes everything in me to crawl into the storage room. I keep blacking out and everything hurts. I can’t make sense of this Milk. He’s not the same sixteen-year-old boy who promised me forever if I’d just let him put his fingers inside me.

  “You’ve been demoted, bitch, to club skank. You like my daddy inside your whore mouth. Hammer has a thing for tight assholes. We’ll pass you around until you’re used and useless. Then I’ll cut your throat myself.”

  I shut down.

  His words aren’t him.

  It’s the Jack talking.

  It’s his dad talking.

  This is Milk.

  Not my Junior.

  Nope.

  He starts yanking at my jeans and I scream. I’m not sure how he can be hard right now, but I feel his dick pressing into me as he tries to remove my pants. I grab for anything and my fingers brush over one of the cans I’d thrown earlier. With a shriek, I slam it into the side of his mouth.

  “What the fuck—” He spits several teeth at me, his blood rushing heavy and hot down onto my face.

  I slam it toward his head again, but this time, he
moves out of the way. The can gets knocked out of my hand and it’s like a switch is flipped on him. Gone is the Milk I knew. In its place is a demon. He yanks out his knife and starts cutting at my clothes despite my thrashing. The knife cuts into me a few times, making me sob in pain.

  I’m going to die.

  The boy I loved is going to kill me.

  I’m too young to die.

  I just turned eighteen a few days ago.

  With a grunt, he yanks my jeans off one leg and then pushes my thighs roughly apart. I scream when he cuts through my panties. He’s just pulling his dick out, with the sticky rubber he was wearing with Juicy still hanging on, when he freezes, his eyes widening in shock. Blood still runs past his lips from losing teeth, but he’s no longer trying to assault me.

  “Get. The. Fuck. Up.”

  The voice behind him is cold and evil. Bone chilling.

  Milk yelps when he’s yanked off me and to his feet. The man behind him isn’t a demon. It’s the devil himself. Dark eyes. Dark hair. Dark soul. A thick, scarred “X” cuts through his skin on his face, making him look utterly terrifying. He has a fat knife pressed to Milk’s throat.

  “He rape you?” the man growls, eyeing me with wild, manic eyes.

  “Run, Hadley.” Milk’s violent stare is gone and he’s the worried boy who loved me at one time.

  I shakily grab for my jeans, but the big man is standing on them. “You’re not going out there.” His command freezes me. “Where’s Putnam?” the man hisses, pressing the blade into Milk’s flesh so that he bleeds from the action.

  “I don’t know,” Milk lies.

  “Three seconds to answer.”

  “I said I don’t fucking—”

  Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat!

  The deafening sound of gunfire has me shrieking. I scramble into the safety of the storage room, butt-ass naked, no longer worried about my jeans. The devil man stalks after me, hauling Milk with him.

  “I was going to make him watch, but not after this shit. You don’t deserve to fucking breathe another second, you piece of shit,” the man snarls. “This. Is. For. Your. Father.”