Outlaw Souls MC Box Set: Books 1-6

by Hope Stone

  We made each other happy. Just the sight of Pin, bent over his accounting books on my kitchen table made me grin from ear to ear. And every time he saw me, Pin couldn’t keep his hands off me. We had found a way to make the relationship work. I knew that my life would never be boring as long as Pin was by my side.

  When I got back to my apartment door, I fumbled with the keys. Before I could even put them in the door, it swung open.

  Pin stood smiling. I knew something was up right away. Behind him on the table, there were candles lit and two glasses of red wine.

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me in. My heart started to pick up. We had talked about forever before. I had told him I wanted him for the rest of my life.

  But we had never discussed details. The closest we had gotten to talking about a timeline or any sort of plan was a budgeting spreadsheet Pin had made. Which, I had to admit, had been weirdly romantic. It had been comforting seeing that he planned for us to get our own apartment at some point.

  Before I could say anything, Pin had dropped down on one knee.

  I never thought I would be the type of girl to erupt into butterflies at the sight of an engagement ring, but it turns out I never fully knew myself until I met Pin.

  When he popped open the box to reveal the ruby ring, I gasped and clamped one hand over my mouth.

  “Claire Brennan, I have loved you almost from the moment I first saw you,” Pin said.

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes.”

  “I haven’t even asked!” Pin cried.

  “Well, my answer is yes.” I started pulling on his hand, trying to yank him to his feet so I could kiss him.

  “Claire, will you marry me?” Pin blurted as fast as he could.

  “Yes!” I screamed, launching myself into his arms.

  I vowed to never let go.

  Book 3: Trainer

  Outlaw Souls MC

  TRAINER Book Blurb:

  Trainer

  Fierce. Protective...and Broken.

  Beautiful and surprisingly strong, this woman’s got a secret she’s not sharing.

  All I know for sure is she’s walked through hell and lived, and that ain’t easy.

  Who am I? I’m the best damn thing to ever walk into her life.

  When her past comes for her, hear my threat...

  I’ll become the monster she fears and hunt him down.

  She can hate me all she wants,

  But I warned her she was mine,

  And I’ll do anything to protect what’s mine...anything, even if I come back from hell.

  Erica

  Love is a beautiful lie...

  Love made me it’s prey, fed on my trust. Never again.

  Word of advice, whenever you think you should follow your heart…Run, do not walk, in the opposite direction.

  Now my hardened heart whispers a new name...Trainer.

  Hardass Biker. Serial Heartbreaker. And a complete waste of time for anyone with more than 5 brain cells.

  He’s going to break me, the writing’s on the wall…

  Problem is, no one’s ever made me feel more alive than the man who’s a constant reminder of my ghosts from the past…

  and the hurt of a man who stole my heart…

  Trainer

  There was nothing in the world quite like riding a bike. I lived for it. Every time I threw my leg over a motorcycle, a tingle of excitement gathered in the base of my spine. It was freedom, rebellion, and fun all rolled into one.

  I’d discovered my passion for the ride when I was only sixteen years old. Back then, I’d been desperate for a car, as anyone is at that age. I thought it would impress the ladies, not that I knew a damn thing about women.

  As a foster kid that bounced around the system for years, I’d known that I was on my own when it came to vehicle purchases. No foster parent I’d met would ever dream of buying me one, if they could even afford to.

  So I scrimped and saved, working in the dish room of a café after school and on the weekends for as many hours as I was legally allowed. After three months, I was ready. I searched the classifieds in the newspaper for the perfect car, but instead, I stumbled across an ad for a used motorcycle. I called up the guy selling it and set up a time to take a look at it, to satisfy my curiosity. Once I set my eyes on that cherry red and chrome machine, I was in love. It was a Honda 250, so not exactly a powerful bike, but it had some get-up-and-go. It didn’t get up to a high enough speed for the highway, but it was fun to ride around town. It was my primary mode of transportation for two years before upgrading to my first Harley-Davidson, which was the bike I had when I joined the Outlaw Souls.

  The Outlaw Souls was the motorcycle club that I’d been involved with for the past ten years. We were a brotherhood.

  Motorcycles were a huge part of my life. I rode them for fun and fixed them up for a living. Buying classics and restoring them to resell was a lucrative way of earning income. And I’d heard it said that if you love what you do, you’ll never work a day in your life. I wasn’t sure if I bought into that, but I knew that I wasn’t suited for working in an office or anything like that.

  “Damn, that thing is a beauty.” Ryder, our MC president, let out a low whistle as I pulled up beside him, straddling my most recent restoration.

  I smirked. “You’re looking at a ‘77 XLCR.”

  “Nice Cafe Racer,” Pin, our treasurer, said as he wandered over to us.

  We were meeting in the parking lot of The Blue Dog Saloon. The bar was owned by Yoda, our Chaplain. His brother, Padre, used to be our president, before things went south a couple of years back, ending in Padre’s untimely death and Ryder taking up the responsibility of leading us. We were all unsure about how Yoda would take the transition, losing his brother to Alzheimer’s, but Ryder somehow smoothed it all over. It was a private matter, so I wasn’t sure how that went down, but it must have been one hell of a conversation.

  The whole thing was a mess, and it had shaken things up, as expected, but there was peace in the club now. Ryder had stepped into the role of leader with a plan to shift the focus of the Outlaw Souls from escalating violence and illegal activities that plagued La Playa to trying to protect the community from such things. This was our home, after all.

  We weren’t saints by any means, still involved with selling stolen auto parts and not afraid to break the law when we felt it was necessary, but we made sure not to do that locally. This town had enough problems from our rivals, Las Balas. Their sex trafficking and drug running was out of control, a real plague on the area.

  I lowered the kickstand of the bike, stepping off as I killed the engine. This motorcycle was much lighter than my normal ride, which was one of the many unique characteristics of this particular model. It was also a slim bike with a long wheelbase and a bikini fairing. The look alone was the reason it was a collector’s item.

  I pulled the black helmet off my head, placing it on the seat. I didn’t have to worry about securing the thing. No one was going to walk off with my helmet, or any of my property, for that matter, in Outlaw Souls’ territory. Besides, we always assigned a Prospect to watch over the motorcycles so that they were never unattended. Our prospective members had to do things like this to prove themselves worthy before becoming Patches - which was what we called our official club members.

  There were currently ten Patches and three Prospects, but we were always a growing organization. The ride I had scheduled for us today included the entire club as well as more casual bikers from the community, making a total of 28 people. It was a good opportunity for locals to get to know the Outlaw Souls, to erase any stigma from the activities of clubs like Las Balas. We might even get a few new Prospects out of it.

  As Road Captain, it was my job to organize the rides, planning routes and making sure that everyone followed the rules. As I walked into the bar, all eyes were on me. Usually, Ryder led all meetings, but these rides were my responsibility. So I remained standing while everyone around me sat, with my hip leaning ag
ainst the brass railing along the wooden bar and my arms crossed over my chest.

  I launched into a speech that was well-worn after many years, so I hardly had to think about what I was saying anymore. It was always the same. I covered the length of the ride and the stops we would make to rest. Some people preferred the spontaneity that lack of planning offered, but my first priority was safety, which required developing a strategy and sticking to it. We would be riding in formation the entire time, with Ryder leading the way. I would be second, followed by the least experienced riders. It was better to put those people in front of the pros, so that they could be watched. The last thing I wanted was to leave someone behind because they couldn’t keep up. I assigned Swole to ride in the back, making her the sweep rider that set the pace.

  All the Outlaw Souls had heard this a million times before, but they listened silently, giving me the respect of their undivided attention. It was a sign of my efficiency as a Road Captain and the importance of the position I held.

  Finally, I reminded everyone that we didn’t want showboats in the group. No competing or going rogue. This wasn’t about showing off. These rides were about the entire group moving as one. We were a brotherhood on the road, even when we were riding with non-members like today.

  We headed out after that. I double-checked that the first aid kit was in one of my leather saddlebags. The other one held a few basic tools, just in case there were any mechanical malfunctions on the road. The MC members all kept their bikes in pristine condition, so it had never happened before, but I believed in being prepared. Pin liked to tease me about being a boy scout in a past life, because I sure as hell wasn’t in this one.

  We all mounted our bikes and fired them up, the roar deafening. Ryder and I nodded to one another before pointing our bikes south. Then we were off on a ride through the winding back roads of Southern California, with the bright sun shining overhead as we left La Playa behind for the afternoon.

  Erica

  “Are we there yet?”

  I sighed through my nose before forcing a smile onto my face as I met my son’s eyes in the rearview mirror. It was the third time he’d asked in the last hour, but I knew it wasn’t fair to get irritated with him. We’d been on the road for almost eight hours now, and I was more than ready to arrive at our destination myself.

  “Almost, buddy.” I glanced down at the GPS on my phone, which claimed that we would reach La Playa in half an hour.

  Dominic didn’t respond, just turning to look out the window, watching as we passed a huge apricot orchard. The scenery had been lovely as we travelled west across Arizona and Southern California. There was a lot of flat farmland as well as green, rolling hills. Now that we were going north, I could see a mountain range in the distance, providing a stunning backdrop on such a bright spring day.

  A loud rumbling sound drew my attention, making me frown. What is that?

  My silent question was answered as I rounded a curve, and I saw dozens of motorcycles heading my way. My eyes widened as I took the sight in. There were men and even a few women wearing leather jackets and helmets as they straddled their bikes. They all seemed to move in unison as they took a sharp corner, their machines leaning to the left before straightening out. Everyone I saw was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses as well, which I figured came in handy on bright days. They didn’t exactly have visors they could use to block the harsh rays of the sun.

  As the group passed my small Toyota, I could feel the vibrations from their powerful engines in the center of my chest. I forced my eyes to stay forward, paying attention to the road ahead. The last thing I needed right now was to wreck my car because I was gawking at a bunch of bikers. It wouldn’t help me to stay under the radar, and that was exactly what I had to do right now. Another glance in the rearview mirror showed that Dominic was waving at the bikers as they passed. Most of them were returning the gesture.

  Thirty-two minutes later, I pulled up to the curb in front of a two-story duplex. I swallowed thickly as my eyes traveled over our new home. An unexpected emotion clogged my throat as I couldn’t help measuring this place against the house that I’d left this morning.

  There was no comparison. This duplex was nothing like the five-bedroom estate I’d called home for the past eight years. That house had been built to our specifications and meticulously maintained. My husband, Jeff, was very concerned with appearances. So he’d spared no expense, ensuring that we lived in luxury. The place was bigger than we needed, even after Dominic was born, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t love the house. It was gorgeous.

  It was also the place that my life turned into a nightmare.

  I shook my head at my conflicting thoughts. The house in front of me might not be fancy, but it was mine and mine alone. I would be safe here.

  Who cared if the siding needed a good power washing or the concrete steps leading up to the porch looked like they might crumble under our feet? The surrounding houses also looked a little rough, so I surmised this might not be the best neighborhood, but I was going to make this work.

  “Mom, is this where we’re going to live now?”

  I put the car in park and unbuckled my seatbelt so that I could turn and look at Dominic. His expression showed no distaste as he stared at the house, just quiet regard. I wished that I had his innocent curiosity. It would be so much better than dwelling on the negative aspects of my situation.

  “It sure is,” I said, hoping that he couldn’t hear the strain in my happy-go-lucky tone. “This’ll be our new home.”

  Dominic turned to look at me, and I was struck by the haunted look that lingered in his eyes. He’d seen so much darkness in his seven years of life.

  That strengthened my reserve. I was doing the right thing here. Our house back in Arizona might have been big and beautiful, but that was just for show. What mattered was the life that was lived on the inside, and I was going to do everything within my power to ensure that Dominic was happy here. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled easily or slept through the night without nightmares, and I was desperate to restore that part of life for my little boy. He deserved a better childhood.

  “Let’s go in and check it out,” I said, stepping out of the car.

  I pulled open the back door of the car and helped Dominic out of his booster seat, nearly bumping my head on the top of the door frame. I wasn’t used to this small car yet, as I had purchased it this morning, using cash that I had been squirreling away for months. My roomy SUV was bought brand new six months ago, but it was in my husband’s name. I couldn’t take off in that, since it would be too easy to track down. The thing that made this place safe was that Jeff had no idea where we were. I wasn’t sure what he’d do if he tracked me down, but he was a violent man.

  I knew that I had to carefully consider everything once I decided to leave. Jeff would definitely try to find me. Not because he cared about me, but because he considered me his property, and his massive pride wouldn’t allow me to leave without a fight. That was all our marriage was - one big fight.

  The only good thing to come out of it was my little boy. I held Dominic’s hand as we walked up the concrete path to the porch. To my relief, the porch steps were sturdier than they looked. The porch itself was divided in half, a low wall separating two front doors. The house was split into two separate dwellings, sharing only a front and back yard. I knew that a family already lived in number twenty-one, but I hadn’t met them yet. In fact, I hadn’t even seen this property in person before I put down a deposit. Desperation led me to take the first thing that I could find, hoping that the pictures online weren’t deceiving in any way.

  I reached into the mailbox of number nineteen and pulled out a silver key, right where the landlord had promised it would be. Unlocking the door, I held my breath as I pushed it open and got my first look at the place.

  The first thing that caught my eye was the dark hardwood floor. It was a little scratched up, but I liked it all the same. We were in the li
ving room, and directly ahead, I could see a small dining room. There were french doors separating the two rooms. Two panes of glass were missing, but I like that the woodwork looked original to the house, matching the frames of the large windows and the banister of the stairs to my left.

  I felt tension ease out of my shoulders as I exhaled. This wasn’t that bad. It had a certain charm to it that made people fall in love with older homes. As I shut the door behind us, Dominic headed toward the stairs. They creaked as he tentatively walked up the first few steps.

  “Why don’t you go on up and pick your room while I check out the kitchen?” I suggested. I knew from talking to the landlord that there were two bedrooms upstairs of roughly the same size, so it really didn’t matter to me which one I ended up with. I just hoped that this would help Dominic to feel like he had a little control over his own life.

  I walked into the kitchen, and my eyebrows popped up in surprise. The only picture online of this room had shown the stove and countertop, so I had no idea that the walls were covered in seventies-style wood paneling. Combined with the dark wood cabinets and black appliances, I felt like I had just walked into a cave.

  A tacky, outdated cave.

  “Yikes,” I mumbled.

  At that moment, I heard a siren outside. Returning to the living room, I glanced out the window just in time to see two police cars go speeding by. I worried my bottom lip, wondering if they were heading somewhere nearby.