Taking Avery: A Lilith's Army MC Novel

by Ker Dukey

  “Please, don’t,” she stammers, pushing farther back. I think she expected the metal pole to absorb her, saving her from the horrors around her and whatever her mind is playing over and over.

  I’m not a good man, far from it, but I’m not a monster either. Her terror causes my gut to twist, and I grimace at the sensation. What makes all this worse is we have a sister around the same age as these girls. Brenner’s fucking twin nonetheless. That he could let those fuckers carve up a girl no older than Rhiannon sickens me.

  Usually, females don’t have any effect on me. I’m not ruled by my cock like most brothers. I have a handle on my urges, and I have a regular girl who sees to my needs. It makes me a better leader. When our old man is ready to pass the gavel, there will be no question who it’s passed to.

  Her stuttering breath as she tries to calm her frayed nerves washes over me and makes me want to offer comfort. The feeling is alien to me. “Don’t sweat it, princess. No one is going to touch you.”

  She blinks up at me, stunned, like she’s waiting for my words to sink in, or like I’ve spoken to her in a different language.

  “Here.” I throw her a bottle of water I’d grabbed from the bar for her. Although she is shaking in fear, she still instinctively catches the bottle, her long fingers snapping around it precisely. “Ace catch. You play ball?”

  Once again, she looks at me with confusion, her brow furrowed.

  “Jesus, you chicks are hard work.”

  Her narrow eyes widen in shock and her mouth falls open. For a while it looks like she’s about to respond, but instead, she snaps her mouth shut and looks away.

  Just as I’m about to step from the room, I finally hear her quiet voice. “Jenna?”

  Turning, I shake my head in puzzlement.

  “My friend. Where is she?”

  “Not a goddamn clue, princess.” I don’t lie to be an ass, I lie to save her the hurt. I’m sure whatever kinda bitch her friend is, she didn’t deserve what those motherfuckers did to her.

  “But they brought her,” she says, her eyes begging me. “They brought her here too. They… they killed Dean, and…”

  My body stiffens when the words spill from her, desperation making her talk quickly.

  “And Jayson. And the storekeeper.” A sob rips from her and more tears shadow the old ones on her face. “They shot him!”

  “Fuck!”

  She frowns at me like her revelation shouldn’t come as a surprise to me. Why the fuck should it? I shouldn’t be shocked by what Brenner does anymore. But this is screwed up and not acceptable.

  We have rules and reputations to uphold, and going around shooting up kids and store owners for shits and giggles isn’t a Friday night for most brothers. People will think we don’t have control of our members, that we’re men to fear. We are, but we aren’t savages. If we kill it’s because the fucker deserved it. If we take something that’s not ours it’s because it was owed, or sometimes just because we’re assholes and like it, but that doesn’t apply to random teenage girls at convenience stores or malls so we can mutilate them.

  “Prez is gonna rip him a new asshole for this,” I murmur to myself, shutting Brenner’s door silently behind me. I can still hear the chick sniveling all the way down the corridor. She has a right to whine; this shit she’s found herself in is about to get so much worse.

  I need to check on Jenna. I need my dad. I ache for Dean. I can’t work anything out; my brain is fried.

  My hands shake. My back aches. My cheekbone smarts. My head throbs.

  Fear holds me captive, punishing my heart rate and driving terror into every bone in my body.

  Images of Dean smiling at me in the rearview mirror torment me.

  Why can’t I just wake up and find this was a bad dream?

  Jenna’s shorts have stained drops of blood on them and my mind races with solutions to get them clean before I give them back to her.

  Jenna.

  Tears stream like summer rain down my face, warm and torrential. My chest heaves and I gasp, trying to get my breath. I know Jenna needs me but I can’t even help myself.

  It’s the not knowing that scares the shit out of me. At the gas station, when I had thought it had been the Cutters who had pulled in and I thought my dad would find out I was dating Dean, fear had raced through me. However, that fear was like the timid whine of a puppy compared to this terrifying thunderous roar paralyzing me.

  And to top it off, I need to pee. I don’t want to piss myself and ruin Jenna’s shorts even more.

  I’m being irrational and I know it, but I can’t stop.

  The door opens, breaking me from my thoughts and making me jump in surprise. An older man walks in, his cold eyes heavy on me as he looks me over. I know he’s the president of Lilith’s Army just by the way he holds himself. His wrinkled face and the sprinkling of silver running through his thick black hair gives away his age, but it’s the way he stands imposingly and how he looks down his nose at me that tells me how important and influential he thinks he is.

  “What’s your name, kid?”

  I know how this shit works. I’ve lived it all my life. This man demands an answer, and even if I don’t want to give him my name, I know I must. It’s expected, a crime not to. Plus, I don’t want to find out how much my refusal to answer will infuriate him.

  “Avery.”

  He nods and drops to a crouch in front of me. “What happened at the gas station, Avery?”

  Although his demeanor isn’t friendly, the tone of his voice is surprisingly soft.

  It hurts to remember, to force those visions on my mind, and I wince at the pain that stabs my heart.

  “He… he killed my boyfriend,” I stutter on a sob. “And my friend’s boyfriend. The… the owner of the garage tried to help me but… but he shot him too.” I shake my head and draw my knees up, hugging them with one arm as if they can protect me from these monsters.

  “Why?”

  Not understanding his question, I shake my head.

  “Why did Brenner kill your friends, Avery? What did they do?”

  Unbelievable. Typical biker bastard. Place blame elsewhere to justify being a barbaric pig.

  “They didn’t do anything!” I shout, anger fueling me. “Your brothers just set into them. They beat the crap out of Dean.” Anger forces stupidity, and I screech without thinking. “You’re gonna hang for this. Dean is the son of Sleight Falls’ chief! He will want revenge for his death!”

  As soon as it’s out of my mouth, I sag in defeat and want to shove the words back in.

  “Prez?” The man who had been in earlier and given me the water steps forward. “This is turning into a fucking shit pit of hell.”

  Ignoring him, the president narrows his eyes at me. “The princess of the Cutters is fucking a cop’s kid?” There’s a slight smirk on his full lips, and I crumble inside. Since the ceasefire between Lilith’s Army and us, I know my dad and this man speak often. I’d never met him; my father hates me being included in club business. I’m his daughter but I’m a female all the same, and that means I’ll be someone’s old lady one day. I’m to do as I’m told, but I know they deal with various shit regularly. “I think this bit of news will come as a surprise to Brig.”

  Just the sound of my father’s name spoken in a sly tone makes my heartbeat quicken. What have I done by mentioning who Dean’s dad is? It doesn’t surprise me that they know who I am—keeping it a secret wasn’t going to save me. Them knowing might not either.

  “Please,” I beg. “Please don’t tell him.” The fear in my voice isn’t lost on any of us, and I hate that I’m pleading with him, but if my father ever finds out…

  I shiver, the consequences of my actions already painful before I’ve even taken a hit for them. Dean is dead, but it won’t stop my father from punishing me. I know it won’t. Pride comes before family to my father, it always has, and he hates Dean’s dad. He will see it as the ultimate betrayal. He doesn’t think like any rational father
. There’s no affection and warm fuzzies. He gives me rules and tells me what he expects from me and I’m to abide and work to achieve them.

  I hate his rules.

  When my mother died, it was my fault for being a ‘problem child’ and a ‘selfish little bitch’. To this day, I still have no idea how that leant a hand in my mother developing cancer in her bones and dying. But he wouldn’t take the damage to his pride, so he passed the blame to me. Whatever I do, right or wrong, it’s never good enough for him. Never. And I know this will be the last straw for him.

  Instead of answering me, he sighs and stands. Turning to the other guy, he shakes his head slowly. “You better take Stormy and Dig and check out the gas station. Clean up if necessary. I’ll deal with the backlash at this end.”

  The other man gives a single nod and walks away.

  The Prez blows out a long breath and begins to pace around the room. “This is bad, kid. Bad. I actually like your father.” The snort that leaves me is loud and it’s too late to hide it. He turns to look at me and frowns. “Am I missing something? I thought the ceasefire was still intact.”

  “It’s not that. I just think you made a deal with the devil. My father won’t allow this to happen; he will not swallow any assault on his pride.”

  He nods. “This I know. This will cause a war. A war I’m not willing to risk, especially if it endangers all my brothers.”

  I scuttle backward but the restraints on my wrist jar when he dips next to me. He scowls and fiddles with the handcuff that’s attached to the stripper pole.

  Sighing in relief when he uncuffs it, I rub at the sore skin. “Thank you.” My voice is quiet, and although I resent being grateful to this man, my mother always taught me to have manners, even when the beasts of the clubs don’t. Another thing my father hates me for—being too soft. As a biker’s kid, I should be tough. I should enjoy violence and love the feel of a weapon in the palm of my hand. But I am none of those things. I just want to be an ordinary girl.

  “Stand up.”

  Hurriedly, I stand. “Are you letting me go? I need Jenna first.”

  His lips twitch and a smirk forms at his mouth. “`Fraid not, kid.”

  It’s the look in his eyes that makes my pulse throb in my ears. I know things are about to get a whole lot worse, and I know it’s going to include my father finding out about Dean.

  “I’ve un-cuffed you as a show of good faith. I’m going to lock the door and I expect you to behave and keep quiet until I return.” His eyes bore into mine and saturate me in his authority. “Going to need the words, girl.”

  “Fine.” I shrug, rotating my shoulder to try and ease the ache there from being cuffed to that gross pole that probably has STDs slimed all over it.

  Turning on his heel, he leaves me alone once more. The sound of the lock clicking into place brings fresh tears.

  I’m fucked and not getting out of this.

  My fists clench and unclench as my father paces the floor in front of me, and Brenner keeps stepping from foot to foot, anxious for this to be over. He has always been a loose canon, and I’ve picked up the pieces of his bad fucking choices his entire life.

  Buzz and Tats are a few years older than him and known as the Brothers Grim, not because of them fighting evil, but because they fucking are it.

  They have been at the club since they were fourteen, when their old man went down for the rape and murder of their own mother. Apparently, they’d witnessed enough sickness in their childhood by the hands of their father that it had seeped inside them, infecting their mentality. Bullseye, our VP, had to take them under his wing at first, but soon enough, they outgrew needing a father figure. They’d fucked up a few club whores before, to a point that my father had to step in and reprimand them, costing them money from their own pocket for medical bills and a ban on all pussy at the club. Women come here for a good time, not to be cut up by a couple of deranged fuckheads.

  When Brenner got older, they began to stick to him like glue, recognizing the darkness inside him, no doubt.

  They’ve all gone too fucking far this time.

  You don’t just murder and kidnap women and bring them back to the club to maim for the sake of it.

  I’m not into the hurting of women, but a lot of the brothers treat females like shit and don’t give a fuck what another brother does with them. Fuck ups like this one happen when you’re a reckless hot head. I guess we all have mommy issues; not one brother would ever admit that.

  I’d gone back to the gas station, but there were other cars there and a few people gathered around on their cell phones, so I thought it best to stay clear of that shit show.

  “Did you touch her?” our father asks, stopping his pacing and glaring at Brenner. My jaw tenses while I wait for his answer, unsure why I care.

  “She got mouthy and tried to run, so I hit her.”

  “Did you fuck her, you dumb cunt? Did. You. Fuck. Her?”

  “Not yet.” He shrugs, and I have to hold in the fizz of laughter bubbling in my chest, but not because he’s funny. Stupid motherfucker. I cringe when our father’s fist connects with Brenner’s jaw, and Brenner hits the deck like a stone being dropped from a skyscraper.

  Spitting blood to the floor, Brenner grabs his jaw. “I don’t see why this is such a big deal. Let’s kill her. They will never know it was us,” he mumbles.

  “You’re a fucking idiot, that’s why you don’t see what the big deal is. If we kill her or she’s missing, you think he isn’t going to come looking? And that your stupid dumb fuck brothers won’t slip up? Or Kiwi, who saw you arrive with her? Should we kill them all?” Prez roars.

  “Then we go to war like we should have done in the first place.”

  My stomach tightens, knowing what’s coming.

  Our father lifts his foot and smashes it into Brenner’s face, knocking him clean out.

  He’s got too much to say for someone who’s only prospecting and thinks because he’s the son of the president he gets free rein with his mouth.

  The Cutters’ motorcycle club isn’t as big as our club and doesn’t have nearly as many chapters, but they have respect from other clubs and big players on their payload. They are good suppliers and handlers, and they bring good business and profit into our club. They have the town businesses in their pockets and wash millions of our money through those businesses. Going to war with them then or now serves no purpose and will only end with a death count of our own brothers as well as theirs, and cost millions. My stupid ass brother is a arrogant loose canon. He has no idea about business.

  “I’m going to need you to clean this up,” my old man tells me, looking at me with something akin to guilt in his eyes. “You’re going to have to do this for your club, your brother. Me.”

  His hand goes to the back of my neck and his forehead comes to rest on mine. My shoulders tense at the affection he’s showing. Our father is a hard ass and doesn’t pussyfoot around us. We were treated like men from the age of twelve.

  “The club comes first always,” I tell him, letting him know I’ll do whatever the fuck I have to.

  He smiles, but it’s strained. “I know, and that’s why your brother is so hell bent on being a pain in my ass.”

  I don’t answer, just wait for him to continue because I know there is more coming.

  “He’s been acting out since I told him that Bullseye is stepping down as VP.”

  My head jerks in confusion. “What? Why?”

  His eyes cast downward and he scrubs a hand over his chin. “He’s dying. Cancer.”

  What the fuck?

  “He asked to keep it quiet. Your brother overheard us talking.”

  I’ve known Bullseye since forever. My whole life he’s been there, and my guts twist at the thought of him being eaten away with cancer.

  “I want you to take his patch.”

  I toss his words around in my head. He wants me to be his VP.

  “I… that’s…”

  A small chuckle sounds
from his chest. “I know this is all news to you but you deserve this. I wouldn’t want anyone else. This was always the plan in the long term.”

  “Did you tell Brenner this?”

  He quirks a brow. “Brenner already knew that’s what would happen and he thought he would be getting Sargent of Arms.”

  My patch?

  “What?” I almost laugh as if it’s a joke, because surely Brenner isn’t that deluded to think he would get a club officer position. He’s eighteen and a fuck up.

  “That shocked look you’re wearing right now is the same one I had before the laughter.”

  “Where is his head?” I look down at Brenner who’s still out cold on the ground.

  “I don’t know. He’s always been a handful, and if he weren’t my son, he wouldn’t be wearing our club’s colors, that’s for sure.”

  “He’s still young.” I try to defend him, even though at his age I was the polar opposite and already taking on club responsibilities.

  “The Brothers Grim don’t help. They indulge his recklessness. If Buzz weren’t a fucking whiz with computers, I’d have probably beaten him to death by now.”

  He’s right. If Buzz gets his head out of his own brother’s ass he could have a real future with the club. He’s beyond skilled when it comes to technology, he just lets his stupid brother lead him astray.

  There’s a knock on the door which breaks our moment.

  “Yeah?” my old man bellows before the door creaks open and Dice waltzes in with his laptop. “What you got?”

  Dice is our tech guy and information provider. He can find anything and everything on the net. He’s also a gambler, which is how he got his road name.