Nyx: A Dark & Dirty MC Romance (Satan’s Sinners MC Book 1)

by Serena Akeroyd

  I ignored the sad looks Cammie kept on sending Nyx, because he was totally oblivious to them. With his focus on his phone, he wasn’t interested in her, and when he did look up, he instantly cast his gaze over me, making sure I was all right, before he went back to whatever it was he was doing. It was weird being cordial with her, but because he didn’t make me feel insecure, it wasn’t too bad.

  I wondered, then, if my mom and dad would have had a better relationship if Dog had done shit like this. Reaffirming the connection he had with his woman, rather than acting like the—

  My mouth opened as the thought blasted me square between the eyes. “Nyx?”

  “Hmm?” he asked, his focus on his phone.

  “Is my dad called ‘Dog’ because he’s a manwhore?”

  Nyx blinked at me, and I swore he blushed. “Well, I mean…”

  “Fuck, that is why.” His non-answer was all the answer I needed. My brow puckered. “Mom never had a chance, did she?”

  “Probably not,” he agreed, but his mouth turned down at the sides.

  I stared at him, and he at me, and I felt the silent promise slither between us. It was like we made a vow to each other that we’d never be like them. That we’d do things right, do things better.

  When I smiled at him, he smiled back, and the gesture was so unlike his usual smirk that I wasn’t surprised when Cammie, about ten minutes later as guys began to traipse in for breakfast, half whispered, “He seems happier.”

  With his attention elsewhere, it was easier to talk, and I’d thought she’d take the chance to be a bitch, to slate me or something, and instead, she talked about Nyx.

  The guy she evidently loved.

  It bothered me that I felt bad for her, because I’d been raised to think nothing but bad juju about sweetbutts, but it was clear that her feelings for Nyx were one-sided, and that sucked for anyone.

  Unrequited love was a bitch.

  A bigger bitch than even myself.

  “I think happy is too strong a word. He’s unsettled. We all are.”

  Cammie blinked at me, unnaturally large lashes fluttering as she stated, “You heard about the girls?”

  “Yeah. I did.” My jaw tensed, and I looked away from her.

  She stunned the shit out of me by pressing her hand to mine on the countertop. “He’ll find them, Giulia.”

  I didn’t want her touch, didn’t want her care, but I didn’t pull back, instead, I just muttered, “I know he will.”

  And I did, because for the first time in my life, I had faith in someone.

  I had faith in Nyx.

  ❖

  Nyx

  Watching her approach the bar like someone had tossed grenades in it pissed me off, because it was so unnecessary that she be here. I didn’t even know what game she was playing, why she was rushing shit, but that was Giulia. Headstrong to the end, and it wasn’t like I wanted to change her. So I had to just put up and shut up. She was weird, but I liked that. It was what had my dick twisted into a knot, after all.

  Each step she took toward the premises, though, made me grit my teeth. It was clear to me that this was some kind of closure. Like she needed to prove to herself that she could do this, and for all that she claimed everything was well with her, and that she was A-okay, her nightmares told me otherwise.

  But that was fine.

  That was natural and normal. As a kid, I’d been to enough shrinks to know that—something Bear had insisted on after he helped cover up my uncle’s death. So I let her do it. And an hour later, after she’d forced herself to walk inside the bar, run an inventory that was beyond half-baked, I watched as she shot a strained smile at me and said, “I think I’m ready to go home now.”

  Home.

  The magic word.

  I hadn’t gone to the booth that was my usual haunt. Instead, I’d stood by the front door, waiting on her to come to her senses. At her words, I held out my hand, watching as she approached me, taking each step like she was walking toward her doom.

  I figured it was because she wanted to run out of the bar, but her pride wouldn’t let her, and because some days, I’d felt like my pride was the only thing keeping me glued together, I knew that gifting her with the notion that I believed she was okay, that I didn’t see through the illusion, was the kindest thing I could do.

  After we were outside, she took a deep breath, probably the deepest she’d taken in a while. When she tightened her fingers about mine, gripping them to the point of pain, I let her, and carefully guided her back to my bike.

  She’d refused to drive in a cage, even though I’d made the offer, and later on, I figured she’d pay the price for being stubborn with a banging headache, but I actually had something for her, something I knew she wouldn’t like, but something that I needed to scratch off my personal bucket list.

  When I veered in the opposite direction away from the compound, she didn’t yell in my ear, just tightened her arms around my waist as she cuddled into me.

  It astonished me, just like it had the first time, how right that felt. How fucking perfect she was there, riding bitch behind me.

  It made me wonder if she was the reason why I’d never let another woman behind me. If, deep inside, I’d been waiting on her. It seemed like a fanciful notion, but fuck, what else was love if it wasn’t goddamn fanciful?

  All it did was confirm what I was doing was right.

  I steered us into Verona, the next town over, and when I parked us outside Indiana Ink, she propped her chin on my shoulder and asked, “Time for tattoo number twenty-nine, huh?”

  I nodded. “No time like the present.”

  “You sure you want me to be here?”

  I frowned at that, then twisted around to ask, “Why wouldn’t I?” I couldn’t see that much of her face in that position, but I felt her shrug.

  “I don’t know. It’s like a pilgrimage for you, I think. I don’t want to get in the way of it.”

  I snorted at her, then said, “Get your ass off the bike.”

  “Yes, sir,” she retorted sweetly, but when I climbed off the bike, she punched me in the arm.

  “I knew submission was too much to ask for from you.” I grinned at her, shaking my head as I absorbed that her punch packed some weight to it, then I grabbed her hand and tugged her along.

  The storefront was crafted from carved teak, and the lettering in the sign reminded me of a Wild West font. For all that it looked old world, it wasn’t though.

  As soon as we stepped inside, the buzz of the needles echoed along the soundwaves, and I watched as Giulia peered around, taking in the bright yellow walls that were covered in Indiana’s tattoos.

  She was Algonquin, and her style reflected her heritage. She’d made a name for herself with animal tattoos and tribal work, but she was great at mandalas too—three of which, huge back pieces, were blown up and took up half the walls of the reception area.

  As Giulia gaped at them, I led us to the half desk where her assistant, David, sat behind a computer.

  When he saw me, his polite smile strained some, because my rep preceded me most places, but as Indiana had done the last fourteen of my tattoos, I was more than just a regular to him now, so his agitation only pissed me off.

  “She’ll be with you in ten minutes,” David squeaked when he caught sight of my scowl.

  I nodded and steered Giulia toward one of the low brown leather sofas that lined the back wall.

  “He’s scared of you,” she murmured, sounding amused.

  “Everyone is.”

  “Apart from me.”

  I heard the pride in her voice at that, and had to hide my smile. “Apart from you,” I confirmed, almost laughing when she squeezed my hand.

  “How many tats do you get a year?”

  I shrugged. “Depends on what happens.”

  “On how many you find who do bad things?” she queried, keeping her words clean for anyone who might be listening in. Not that anyone was in here other than David, but she knew to wa
tch her mouth.

  “Yeah.”

  “How many did you get these past twelve months?”

  “Two.”

  She whistled. “Two too many.”

  I eyed her, sober to the last. “Exactly.”

  When she settled back into the couch, relaxing some, I was surprised when she rested her head against my arm. She wasn’t very affectionate, at least not outside of bed, but I knew why she was being a little more touchy than usual—going to the bar had drained her.

  I wanted to growl at her over that, over pushing herself too hard, too fast, but what could I say? In her shoes, I’d have been chomping at the bit to get back to normalcy too.

  I didn’t bother talking with her, didn’t even bother grabbing my cell. I just sat there with her, in silence, letting the buzzing of the needles calm me. This was my version of meditation. As fucked up as it was.

  But, over the last few days, I’d had a lot to think about. Somewhere in the area, the Lancaster cunt had hidden away two innocent women, who were going to die if we didn’t find them soon. We couldn’t approach the cops, because they’d not only ask why Giulia had stolen Lancaster’s phone, but they could even execute the threat to the Lancasters by finding the women and hurting them before they had a chance to speak out.

  Not only that, but my woman had been attacked, and was still under investigation because some billionaire held power in the area.

  And, more than that, I’d been coming to terms with changes I wanted to make in my life. The desire to provide Giulia with more security had led me to make this decision, but in the end, I only made it because I needed her.

  Yeah, big, bad Nyx, the Enforcer that was feared from Oklahoma to NYC, needed a woman.

  Not just in my bed, but in my fucking heart.

  Maybe another brother would have been nervous at this point. But me? I wasn’t. I was resolute. She could argue, she could run kicking and screaming from the ink parlor, but she wasn’t leaving this place without my brand on her.

  Even if I had to spank her to get her to agree, I’d do it, because she was mine, and it was about time she knew it.

  Eight minutes after David had told us ten, Indiana appeared in the doorway to her station. She was leading a woman over to the front desk, and from the looks of her chest and the bandages there, as well as the way her shirt sat against her body, I had to figure Indiana had been giving her a tattoo on her mastectomy scars. That was something else she was getting a name for, as well as the fact that she did it free of charge.

  Glad I’d arrived early to see that, because I’d cover whatever it cost—no way was I going to let Indiana foot the bill on her own—I stayed quiet until the woman left. To no avail. As she moved toward the door, she froze at the sight of me before she scuttled away, like a frightened mouse.

  “Good thing she saw you after the tattoo,” Indiana told me dryly.

  I shrugged. “Consider me crowd control.”

  She snorted. “That’s one way of looking at it.” Her gaze cut to Giulia who was, I realized, dozing at my side.

  Though I was startled by that, even though it made sense when I thought about how she’d pushed herself today, Indiana wasn’t, and her gaze softened as she looked at her and murmured, “She’s been through the wars.”

  “Yeah, she has, but don’t tell her that. She considers it only a battle.”

  Indiana blinked. “There’s a difference?”

  “Of course,” Giulia muttered sleepily. “Lots of battles in a war.”

  Indiana chuckled a little, then said, “Sorry if we woke you.”

  “I was just resting my eyes.”

  “You were close to snoring. Admit it,” I teased.

  Giulia sniffed. “I admit to nothing, and admit to everything, which leaves you in ignorance.”

  Grinning, because she was a contrary pain in the ass, I muttered, “Time to get inked.”

  She sighed, snuggled her butt into the sofa, and murmured, “I’ll be fine here.”

  “No, you won’t,” I informed her gruffly. “You’re getting inked too.”

  At that, her eyes flared wide open. “Huh? I’m not getting a tattoo! I don’t want one.”

  My lips curved. “You’ll want this one.”

  She tensed, then glared at me. “Are you being serious right now?”

  “Is Nyx capable of being anything other than serious?” Indiana queried wryly.

  Giulia glowered at her. “Are you close or something?”

  She laughed. “Um, yeah? He’s my brother.”

  If her eyes had been wide before, they were as round as an orange at Indiana’s statement.

  “Huh?”

  “She’s my sister,” I told her, feeling a little nervous now the truth was coming out. This was just one of many facts about me that she didn’t know, but I wanted her to. Fuck, I wanted her to know everything. The good, the bad, the goddamn ugly.

  “But I thought she was...”

  “She is. That was Carly.” I reached up and touched the songbird on my neck. “Indiana is my baby sister.”

  She licked her lips, then shot Indiana a look. “I don’t understand.”

  “Nothing to understand. Our mother had sex at least three times in her life,” Indiana announced seriously. “I’d like to think it was less than that, but there are at least four years between each child.”

  Giulia’s lips twitched. “If only the math worked out, huh?”

  “Exactly.” Indiana smiled, then shot me a look. “She doesn’t look ready to be branded.”

  Giulia gulped, and her hand went to my knee. She squeezed it, not enough to cause me discomfort, but more like she was clutching at something to ground her.

  I liked that she used me and not the sofa to do that.

  “Nyx, this isn’t something you can take back,” she whispered, her tone wary.

  “I know it isn’t.”

  “I won’t be like my mom,” she warned. “You’ll be stuck with me for life. I’ll fucking haunt you, and if you cheat on me, I’ll chop off your dick and make the Sinners eat it for breakfast.”

  “Bloodthirsty, nice,” Indiana observed with a whistle.

  I glowered at her, saw she’d leaned against the wall to take in the show, and just rolled my eyes at her when she beamed at me.

  “There’s a lot of meat there,” Giulia said seriously. “It’s gonna make a great omelet—”

  “Ew, I didn’t need to know my brother has a big dick,” Indiana squealed, then made a dash for her booth, a dash that, with a squeak of his own, David quickly mimicked.

  She smirked at me. “Women are so squeamish.”

  I snorted. “You did that for some privacy?”

  “You bet your ass I did.”

  “You didn’t like your brothers knowing you scream when you come,” I pointed out.

  “That’s completely different.”

  It totally wasn’t, but I wasn’t in the mood to argue with her.

  Not over that anyway. For our future? Sure, I’d argue to hell and back with her. If I had to.

  I reached for her hand and told her, “Giulia, I want this.”

  “You want this now.”

  I shook my head. “What about me is transient, Giulia? Everything about me is permanent. Including you.”

  “Nothing’s permanent in an MC,” she muttered sadly, and I saw, deep in her eyes, that she was sad. I knew then that I had her. Her past was making her doubt something she knew she didn’t have to. We were linked, her and I. Bound.

  “I’m not an ordinary man, Giulia, and it fits that the woman for me isn’t ordinary either.

  “You can take the monster in me, can handle it and deal with who I truly am. That takes guts, and if you think I’m stupid enough to tangle with a woman who I know is perfectly capable of severing a man’s testicle with a shoe, then you’re the crazy one. Not me.”

  When she snickered, it was like the sun rising after a long winter night. Her fingers tightened around mine again.

 
“Isn’t it too soon?”

  “Life’s short. We have to take each day we’re given, live them to the fullest. I want to do that, with you riding bitch at my back.”

  A quiver whispered down her spine at that, and when she reached over, cupped my chin, and told me, “There will come a day when you ride bitch, Nyx, you do know this, don’t you?”

  Her words only gave me further confirmation she was the woman for me.

  Even if there wasn’t a cat in hell’s chance that I was ever, in a million fucking years, letting her control my hog.

  Now that was crazy fucking talk.

  ❖

  Rex

  The second Nyx walked into the clubhouse with Giulia’s name tattooed on his throat, there wasn’t much more of a declaration required.

  I had no doubt that her brand would be somewhere only he could see, because he was a possessive bastard, and the way his arm was around her shoulders reminded me of shit Jocks pulled with their girlfriends as they walked down the hall in school. My lips curved because Nyx had worn no letters at school, none other than F.U.C.K O.F.F, and I couldn’t see Giulia wearing a Letterman jacket.

  Not in this eternity, at any rate.

  For all that I could have rolled my eyes at my brother’s antics, I had to admit I was happy. Happy for him, happy for her, happy for the club. It was about time shit changed around here. The council were all in their mid-thirties, with only Storm having an Old Lady, until he’d fucked shit up with Keira a couple of months back. The place didn’t have any of the vibe it’d had when I was a kid, and was more porn movie studio than what the Satan’s Sinners should be—a community. Yeah, we were family, and yeah, one of the perks was to have pussy on hand, but fuck, in my dad’s day, the two hadn’t been mutually exclusive.

  But to get that?

  We’d need an Old Lady with brass balls. Somehow, I thought we had that in Giulia. She wouldn’t have a problem in telling the clubwhores what to do, and I’d let her reign over the women until I picked a woman for myself.

  Well, that was a lie.

  I’d already picked the woman, but convincing her was going to be a long project. I had time, so did Rachel, and because of this messed up situation with Lancaster, we’d be working together more than ever. Rachel was normally disapproving of our methods, but she knew about that cunt’s phone, knew what we’d found on there, and knew—more so than any of us—how the police investigation was skewed in the Lancasters’ favor. To the point where if those detectives on the family’s payroll started saying Giulia had raped Lancaster, I wouldn’t be fucking surprised.