HARD KNOX

by Jaxson Kidman

  Hey darlin’

  You’re about to read my debut novel, HARD KNOX. Each and every book I write contains a part of me. Some of this is true. Some is this is altered from the original way it happened in my life. Some of it is all wild fantasy.

  Hope you’re ready… I know I am.

  See you on the other side.

  - Jax

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  Email Jax: JaxsonKidman@gmail.com

  HARD KNOX

  I let her slip away from me once – this time, I’ll kill to keep her close… because this time, she’s pregnant with my baby.

  *

  It was a lifetime ago when I first met Ana as she stepped out of the moving truck. From the second our eyes met, it was instant fire. What came after that was years of wild lust and a romance that seemed impossible to kill. Until I got patched into the Reaper’s Bastards MC and all our lives changed.

  Now, the MC is falling apart, my old man is in prison on a life sentence, and the only thing that makes sense is the secret fling I’ve been having with Ana for years. It’s our secret, but I’m tired of that. But there’s a big problem. She’s running with a rival crew who wants to take out me and my club for good. So I make the call to everyone in the MC to put the leather cuts back on and gear up for war. The first strike comes in the form of murder… and that’s when all hell breaks loose for good.

  In the mirror, I tell myself to get ready for a different kind of war. A war with love. Because this time, with Ana, it’s all or nothing.

  chapter one

  (knox)

  *LATER*

  I knew it was so fucking wrong, but she felt just so fucking right. The windows were shut, the door locked, and it was just us. Finally, just us. The way she sat on the corner of my bed, I could tell she was nervous. There was a virginal look to her in that moment, the light splashing against the left side of her face. Good thing too because if I saw the right side of her face it would piss me the fuck off again.

  No woman deserved that kind of treatment. Or this kind of life.

  Shit, Ana didn’t even deserve me.

  But you know what?

  I was the greater of all fucking evils and that meant I was the one who could protect her. Shit, maybe even love her. Like that hadn’t happened already though.

  I stepped toward the bed to gauge her reaction to me. To finally being alone with me. To finally having the chance to bring all those flirty eye fantasies to fucking life. Goddammit, if this woman knew how many times I had shot my load thinking about her. Into dirty shirts when I jerked off. Into the shower, watching it go down the drain. Hell, shooting my loads into other women’s mouths, pussies, anywhere I felt like fucking, there were plenty of times she popped into my mind as my dick shot.

  Before I could say a word her hands grabbed at the top of my jeans.

  Fuck, she wanted it as bad as I did.

  I knew what it was though.

  Comfort.

  The temptation ran way too fucking high between us and now there was no stopping us. She wanted me to fuck her, hold her, make her sweat and scream, all in one wild night so she could pretend her life wasn’t a fucking mess.

  I was fine with being that guy for her. Hell, I had dreamt of it for a long damn time. So many times our paths had crossed during my rise to power on the streets and yet I never plucked her flower and drank her nectar. I let it mature for years, at my own expense.

  Now everything was destroyed.

  And she was going to comfort me as much as I was going to comfort her.

  I touched her jaw, calmly, so I didn’t scare her.

  I saw the blood on my ripped up knuckles, reminding me of what I’d done.

  Our eyes met and we both knew it…

  The second we fucked, we were signing our own death warrants.

  chapter two

  (knox)

  *THEN*

  It all started when a yellow truck pulled up to the apartment house right next to mine. Looking at the front of my house, you’d never know there were two apartments in it. It was a big house split into two. My grandmother lived on the bottom floor and did nothing but chain smoke while watching game shows, talk shows, the news, and back to game shows. The smell filtered up into our apartment where I crashed with my parents. Ma worked two waitressing jobs at two restaurants across the street from each other. She’d fucking literally walk across the street and change her shirt to put in another eight hours of small tips, ass grabs, and fighting with another dickhead Italian who thought his little shithole restaurant was the best in the world.

  My old man couldn’t keep a job if his hands were lathered in super glue. He’d been up and down every auto shop in town, twice, and was still struggling to keep things going forward. Little did I know there was a good reason for it. Fate would eventually kick in and he’d meet up with some guys at a garage who had a side thing that involved motorcycles. They were big, tough, and they were nothing short of criminals who lived a life so free, it would change my life for forever.

  I was the coolest kid not in school.

  I stood on the front porch of the house, one of my grandmother’s cigarettes in my hand. I lit the fucker up and watched the yellow truck. The house right next door had an upstairs and downstairs apartment too. It was pretty obvious though it was an apartment. In the downstairs lived an old man who was a complete asshole. Me and the boys drove that son of a bitch nuts, so much that he had a fucking stroke last summer. Noah and Elijah got skittish when it happened and broke away from me and Kingston. Spencer offered to mow the old man’s lawn for the rest of the summer while he recovered.

  Me?

  I didn’t give a shit. It wasn’t my life. It wasn’t my problem. Fuck, come to talk to me after you watch my mother sit at the small table in the kitchen, laying out crumbled up one dollar bills that stunk like dirty ass cheeseburgers and cry her eyes out when she was short a couple hundred for rent and utilities. Then she’d go downstairs to ask my grandmother to ease up on the rent. You know what would happen then? My grandmother would hit her.

  Fucking right.

  My grandmother, all five foot nothing of her would wind up and smack the shit out of my mother like she was a child.

  All the while my old man was out on the street hustling. See, at that time, he was moving illegal car parts and hustling motorcycle deals, working his way into the club that would save all of us.

  Anyway, back to the fucking yellow truck.

  I saw a woman hop out of the driver’s seat of the truck. She was an adult, but damn, she was kind of hot. She stopped, put her hands to her hips, and looked up to the second floor apartment that was her new home. The other people that had lived there before were real treats. A single mother with three daughters and she treated the place like her own porn and drug house. I hooked up with her oldest daughter and saw enough in that place that it was nice when the FOR RENT sign popped up in the window.

  I would never knew what happened to the family that left, which was good.

  The woman outside the yellow truck looked at me. I put my hands to the railing on my porch and leaned forward. I grinned and took a drag of my smoke.

  She quickly turned her head.

  I guess she was too adult for a little wild thing on the side.

  I started a countdown in my head until I would be able to get close enough to fuck that woman, but the countdown went to zero when the passenger door opened.

  And that was the moment I met her.

  That’s when fucking Ana came crashing into my life.

  Long legs in tight jeans, a red hoodie, blondie hair sort of messy, and a pink bag tossed
over her shoulder. She took two steps and froze when she saw me. The second our eyes met, I knew we were going to end up in some serious trouble.

  And then she made the first move.

  She fucking waved to me.

  Just like that… she sealed her fate for the rest of her damn life.

  The yellow truck left and turned around. It backed up to the steps of the apartment. I just stood there, enjoying a second smoke. Yeah, it was a bad habit to pick up at a young age, but it was the only thing that kept me calm and focused. I was still a few years away from the beginning of my reign in pussy so cigarettes were all I had. I would get drunk but that cost money and any of the booze in the house was consumed by the old man. He drank whiskey when he brushed his teeth. It was like water would poison him or some shit.

  Ana’s mother walked to the back of the yellow truck and opened the door. There wasn’t much shit in the truck but enough that it would make the job a pain in the ass for two people.

  Chivalry wasn’t quite in my arsenal so I stood there and watched as the two of them fought to take boxes out of the truck. A few times, they both would look at me as though they fucking expected me to help. I wasn’t some goddamn butler or something.

  Then they got to the beds.

  Ana’s mother tried to slide one of the box springs out and it toppled over and almost smacked Ana in the face. She jumped back and yelled. Then her mother lost her cool. She dropped to her knees and started to pound on the box spring, breaking down into tears.

  Now that got my attention.

  I stood at the railing again, watching the scene unfold.

  Ana went to her mother and touched her back. Then she looked back at me. From the distance, her blue eyes instantly sank into me like goddamn fangs on a venomous snake.

  I took the cigarette from my mouth and tossed it over the railing. I jumped the railing and walked over to them.

  “Hey,” I said to Ana.

  That’s when she told me her name.

  Her mother had already stood up and walked away, probably embarrassed that she was crying like a damn fool.

  I grabbed the box spring and picked it up. “Where we going with this?” I asked Ana.

  “My mother’s name is Abby,” she said. “I don’t know why I just told you that.”

  “Abby and Ana,” I said. “Sounds like a crappy kids’ show.”

  She smirked.

  Her mother then appeared, looking cleaned up.

  Her mother had some dirty ass hollowed out eyes. I could tell right from the jump she was a mess.

  “Where to, Mrs….” I stopped for effect, knowing I was being an ass for even dropping the whole Mrs. thing.

  “Abby is fine,” she said.

  I looked at Ana.

  Later I would find out Ana’s father had been caught cheating and had tried to attack she and her mother, leaving his ass in jail and Ana and her mother on the street. That explained why she was in my shitty neighborhood.

  I lifted the box spring on my own.

  “I can help,” Abby said.

  “I’m good,” I said.

  I grew up strong and wasn’t afraid to show it off. Oh-fucking-well to anyone who didn’t like it. I had a rusted weight set in the musty basement of the apartment-slash-house. I lifted. I ran. I got into tons of fights. I was built to kill, but at that point in life I hadn’t killed anyone.

  I carried the box spring up to the apartment. How ironic that the box spring was for Ana’s bedroom, the same room where I hooked up with some chick before. We didn’t go all the way in there though, but damn close.

  The same would happen with Ana…

  I carried up the box springs, the mattresses, half taped, overflowed boxes, and all the small pieces of furniture.

  My boy Matteo cruised by on his motorcycle and saw me. He stopped for a little bit to help me get the couch and love seat upstairs. The entire time I worked, I just kept staring at Ana.

  Goddamn, she was something. She tossed a set of earbuds in and played with her music player, but I caught her looking at me. I caught her smiling. I caught her fucking blushing at me. She was like a little rosebud, waiting to bloom, waiting to get cut and kept until she was done. The shit that went through my mind almost seemed unnatural, but I was man enough to know what I felt.

  I spotted Matteo ten bucks, a handshake, and a promise of some good grass from another friend of mine for helping with the furniture.

  “Damn, that’s a fine piece of ass moving in,” he said when we were outside.

  He had a cigarette in his mouth.

  When he said that, I fucking snapped. I grabbed his throat and slammed him so hard into the moving truck, it left a small dent. He spit the cigarette at me and his eyes went wide.

  “… the… fuck…” he managed to say through my tight grip.

  “You don’t look at her,” I said. “You don’t think about her. You don’t mention her to anyone in this fucking town. You got it?”

  I let Matteo go and he coughed. “Jesus, bro. What the fuck?”

  “Just don’t,” I said. “Okay?”

  Matteo put his hands up. “Christ, man. I just said she was fucking hot. I didn’t say I was going to hit it.”

  “Keep it that way,” I said. “Nobody is hitting her. Nobody is getting near her.”

  “She’ll get eaten alive in this town,” Matteo said. “You ready to protect that?”

  “Get the fuck out of here,” I said. “Now.”

  Matteo fucking left and I was pissed.

  I walked around the truck and saw Ana standing there, one earbud in, one dangling down the front of her red hoodie. She just stared at me. I don’t know how the fuck she wore a hoodie when it was so warm out. I stood there, my sweaty t-shirt clinging to me, my veins throbbing from working so damn hard for her and her broke ass mother.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  Ana turned and stormed away.

  I followed her, walking slow, pausing in the apartment as her mother lifted a box to the coffee table.

  “Is that it?” I asked.

  “I think so. Stay right here.”

  Her mother walked away and I darted for the bedrooms. I found Ana sitting on her bed. She had her head down. I sat next to her and reached for her chin. I forced her to look at me, seeing the tears in her eyes.

  “Ah, damn,” I said. “Fuck Matteo, okay? I’m sorry for what you heard out there. We’re all competitive around here. It’s hard to explain, Ana. Okay?”

  “I don’t want to be left alone,” Ana said. “What did I do so wrong that my own father doesn’t love me?”

  I touched her shoulder. She was still a stranger to me but time was to fix all that. “My opinion? I’ve known you for, what, two hours? Anyone that would walk out on you is a fuck head. A complete piece of shit. Maybe you should remind yourself of that. Okay, darlin'?”

  Darlin’? Where the fuck did that come from?

  It was the first time that word slipped out of my mouth. I’d call everyone woman I’d meet darlin’ after that, but the first was always for Ana.

  “You must think we’re dirty and poor,” Ana said. “Look at us.”

  I grinned. “Look at me, Ana. I’m dirty and poor. I’m not here to judge you. I’m here to help. Why? I don’t fucking know. I saw your Ma hit the ground and it just… I don’t know. I’ve seen my Ma cry too. It’s not a good feeling. It’s a real shit feeling.”

  “Thank you,” Ana said. Then she started to smile.

  “What’s funny?”

  “I don’t even know your name.”

  Shit.

  How dumb of me. So caught up in her I forget to toss her my name.

  “Knoxville,” I said. “But you can call me Knox.”

  Her eyes lit up.

  Yeah, I’d learn then and forever that women loved my name. I always got asked if I was named after the city or some dumb shit. That left the door open for me to make some flirty ass comment about me being me and before I knew it, they were on their knee
s with their mouths full. No more talking then.

  “Hey, I’m right next door,” I said. “If you ever need anything. I live upstairs.”

  In fact, our windows face each other.

  Give it a year and, shit, I’d catch Ana standing in her bedroom in nothing but a towel. She’d look at me and look around to make sure the coast was clear. Then she’d open the towel for a few seconds, showing me why she wore a hoodie that day - and for most days. Because she had the greatest tits ever.

  But back then on that first day…

  Ana tucked her shoulder and touched her cheek to my hand.

  We were in silence, which was never good. Silence was either bad, meaning I had to split or silence was good, meaning it was time to get dirty.

  I inched toward her lips, my mind and heart racing together.

  Her bedroom door opened and I quickly stood up, the fucking moment ruined.

  Her mother stood there, nostrils flared. She was hot though. For a woman older than me, damn. She just needed to get rid of those dead eyes. I could have helped with that but it would have never ended well between us.

  In her hand she had some crumpled up cash.

  “I wanted to give you this as you were leaving,” she said to me.

  “Money? Why?”

  “Because you helped us,” she said.

  I walked to the doorway and laughed. “No. I’m not taking that. I never do this kind of thing anyway. You caught me on a good day. Keep it. Get some pizza or something.”

  I looked back at Ana and winked.

  I felt fucking great when I left.

  And meeting Ana wasn’t the only memorable thing about that night. My old man came home wearing a new leather cut. He had gotten himself patched in to the motorcycle club. They were called Reaper’s Bastards MC. I asked him if I could wear the thing and he gave it to me. I hurried to my room and put it on.

  I looked damn cool in it.

  I had the muscle, the balls, and the will to make it work.