by Sam Crescent
Evernight Publishing ®
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2015 Sam Crescent
ISBN: 978-1-77233-465-4
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
As always, I want to thank Evernight Publishing for giving Chaos Bleeds a home, and also my wonderful editor. They really are amazing.
BROKEN HEARTS
Chaos Bleeds, 7
Sam Crescent
Copyright © 2015
Prologue
Dick in rehab
Dick’s entire body was hurting. He didn’t like pain, and the only way to deal with that was to snort up, or inject some hard shit into his veins. Any other time he’d have already been high as a fucking kite, but he wasn’t allowed. No, not anymore. This was the new rule of the club, Chaos Bleeds. Devil needed him, them all, to be clean. To stay in the club, he had to be clean, no more drugs for him. They were up against a worse enemy, and none of them could stop what was about to happen. Devil needed them all to be safe, and being an addict didn’t help the club, it only failed the club. Dick didn’t want his brothers to see him like this. The shakes were the worst, the constant itching, and his body felt like it wasn’t his own. He’d never felt like this before, and he didn’t know what was worse, the sickness, or the need that was like fire in his veins.
Butler was already on the road to recovery while Dick was still trying to figure his shit out. He hated it, and everything else that was going on. There were times he wondered if he should just quit the club, but he couldn’t do it. Chaos Bleeds meant everything to him, and turning his back on them wasn’t in him to do. The club was all he had.
Keeping the blanket wrapped around him, Dick was pulled out of his pity party, and drawn to the commotion coming from the corner.
“You fucking whore. I don’t want to be here. I don’t need to be here. I’m fine, and you know it. You’re just jealous that I get all the cock while you get nothing, you fat bitch.”
Dick snorted as he watched Becky storm out of the room. The girl was a candidate for syringes and sticking shit in her veins, just like him. She was slender, skin and bone really from lack of food, and all the drugs she would take. He eyed the sister who kept making an appearance. It didn’t matter how many times Becky mouthed off, spit and cursed, her sister always came back to the rehab center for more. No one else came in to see Becky, but Martha, she came to see her regularly, without fail. The rock who stood beside her destructive sister. It was sad to see.
Martha sat down on the chair, looking forlorn.
“You shouldn’t take the shit she’s saying to heart,” he said, not understanding why he was telling her anything. He didn’t make anyone feel better. He was far happier causing problems than helping.
“She does mean it.”
“No. It’s the withdrawal. It’s a fucking bitch.”
“You’re not looking much good yourself,” she said.
He shrugged. “I’m doing the best I can with the shit that I got.”
She giggled. “You’re insane, and crazy.”
“Nah, name’s Dick,” he said.
Martha moved a little closer, and shook his hand. “Your name is Dick? That doesn’t sound right to me. It’s not really a name.”
“It’s my name.”
She shook her head. “Becky told me you were part of some MC gang. It’s your road name. She also told me you’ve got a reputation for being a huge dick. Your name matches your attitude.”
“Becky talks too much.”
“Not really. She needs to talk more, and get everything out in the open. She doesn’t, and that just sucks.” Martha slumped down into the seat opposite him, without an invitation to do so. “What’s your real name?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Why?”
“You’d laugh, and I don’t like being laughed at.”
“You can’t be serious?” she asked. Dick didn’t respond, and only glared at her. “I’m now more intrigued than ever. What is your name?”
Her smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her eyes twinkled, and she wasn’t looking at him like a piece of shit. Dick couldn’t recall the last time a woman looked at him as if he was a person. The whores back at the club served him as they were owned by the club, not because they wanted him. He didn’t want their skanky pussy most of the time, but it scratched an itch and he didn’t have to go hunting for it.
“You do know I’m in here because I’ve got the same problem as your sister?” he asked.
“What? You can’t say no to a high? Yeah, I get that. I’m not going to stop coming and seeing my sister. You deal with your problems in any way you can. I get that. I even understand it.” She shrugged. “I deal with mine through food. I eat a lot.”
Tilting his head to the side, Dick shook his head, and didn’t have a clue as to why he was about to tell her his name. He didn’t tell anyone his name. “Fine, my name is Teddy. T.E.D.D.Y.”
“Why would I laugh at that?”
Gritting his teeth, he stared at her. “My last name is Bear. B.E.A.R.”
He saw the moment she understood why she’d laugh. Dick even expected it. After all, his name had been the source of many people’s entertainment.
“Teddy Bear, wow, your, erm, your folks really knew what they were doing, didn’t they?”
“Dick’s much easier to deal with, and I like the name. I use my dick every chance I get.”
Martha sat back smiling at him. “Well, it’s nice to see you, Teddy Bear, Dick.”
They shook hands, and Dick couldn’t believe he’d told her the truth about his name. He didn’t tell anyone. There were brothers he rode with who didn’t even know the truth of his name. It was all fucking horseshit, and wrong.
He hated it, hated his name.
When he was growing up he’d gotten into so many fights and arguments. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d ambled home after a day of fighting at school.
After that moment whenever Martha came to see Becky, she’d always spend an hour or two chatting with him. She really believed that Becky was on the road to recovery, and was planning on getting her a job and an apartment when she was out. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that one of the doctors was giving Becky shit on the side, and in return she was giving him everything he wanted, blowjobs, sex, anal. Dick had gone to the toilet the other day and discovered Becky bent over the counter taking it up the ass all in the name of getting a little smack. Dick liked his ass the way it was, and he also loved his club. He didn’t ask for anything while he was on the inside. Martha was blind to what was happening. When she was with him, he didn’t want to upset her. She was just sweet, nice, and he didn’t want to change that. Martha was refreshing to him.
He even called Devil up, and asked him to deal with the bastard who was taking what he wanted from Becky.
Martha helped Dick to get clean. Talking with her, laughing with her, it all helped for him to know what he wanted out of life. Waiting for her to visit was what got him to remain clean, to stay clean every single hour of every single day, even when he wanted to give in, and fuck the world. Remembering Martha’s smiling face made him stronger, and he fought the need, and stayed clean.
&nbs
p; Finally, when he left the rehabilitation center, Martha was there to congratulate him, hug him goodbye, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to be a Dick to her. She’d been through enough, and didn’t need anything else.
“If you ever need me,” he said, “come and find me. I’ll help you out.”
“I’m a good girl through and through. If you ever need to talk, come and find me. I like you, Teddy, even if you don’t think you deserve to be liked.” She quickly grabbed a piece of paper out of her bag, and wrote down the details he’d need. “Anytime. Come and visit.”
“I will. Take care, honey.”
“You, too.”
He left her, and didn’t look back, not once. Why didn’t he need to? He was a dick, and Martha deserved better.
Chapter One
Dick slammed into Lydia, watching as his condom-slick cock opened up her tight little pussy. She was screaming like a fucking banshee, which was really starting to grate on his last nerve. She didn’t even sound all that great. The noise was giving him a headache, and with his past addictions, he couldn’t take fucking painkillers. He’d been wrong about Lydia. Totally fucking wrong. He’d actually thought Lydia was the one woman for him. She took his shit, and gave back just as much, yet it wasn’t working. He couldn’t stand her. She was irritating, needy, demanding, and she just pissed him off all the time.
“Please, Dick, harder. Fuck me like you mean it.”
It had been over a year since she was taken by the fucker known as Master. In that time, Death, Snake, and the whole of the club had been on the search for the mysterious man who took women, used and abused them, before tossing them away. The man they were searching for was like a damn ghost. One moment he was there, the next moment he was gone, puffed into smoke.
“I need it. I need you.”
He was getting fucking tired of hearing her voice. At first he’d wanted to help her, to get her friends with Jessica once again. Instead, her voice was grating on his nerves. He hated the way she sounded, and her entire presence in his life was pissing him off. He hated her, hated everything she stood for, and he hated fucking her.
Gripping her hips, he pumped into her several times until he found his own release. Lydia squealed her own orgasm as she’d been fingering her pussy the entire time. When he was finished, he collapsed over her and simply took a breath. He rarely helped her to orgasm, and only ever took what he wanted. After sex, he liked quiet, and to simply enjoy the release of his cum, even if it wasn’t in a cunt he wanted.
Then she started talking.
“That was amazing,” she said. “Really, Dick, you certainly know how to use what’s been given to you. I bet your daddy was packing, wasn’t he?”
She went ahead and spoiled everything with her mouth. He had really made a big mistake. Pulling out of her pussy, he tore the condom from his dick, and stormed into his bathroom. He kept his door open, and out of the corner of his eye he could keep an eye on her. There was no way he’d let Lydia out of his sight. He didn’t trust her for a second.
You trusted Martha.
He stared at his reflection and couldn’t stop thinking about the woman who’d invaded his thoughts often since leaving rehab.
“Come on, Dick, I want to go again.”
“Fuck off.”
He ran a hand down his face, and tried his hardest to look at the man in the mirror staring right back at him. Where the fuck had Martha come from? He’d not seen or heard of her in the last couple of years since he’d gotten out of rehab. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with that kind of shit in his life. No matter how hard he tried, he kept coming back to the same thoughts about her. He had liked Martha. She’d been sweet, funny, and just refreshing, like taking a breath of fresh air.
Lydia moved up behind him, running her hands all over his back, around his waist. “You don’t mean that.”
“Get the fuck out of my bedroom.”
“Come on, we’re practically dating.”
“We’re not fucking dating.” He grabbed her arms and shoved her away. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just screwing around. Don’t think for a fucking instant that this makes you my old lady. It doesn’t. It doesn’t make you anything to me. You hear me?”
Lydia let out a sigh as if he was a child. “Whatever you say, Dick.”
She turned on her heel and walked out. Dick didn’t like the way she was behaving as if she owned the place. He’d never made a claim on her, and he had been wrong. Lydia was not the one for him. He was done with her. Dick couldn’t fucking stand her, and there was no way he was ever having her as an old lady. He’d tried to do a good thing, and she was the only woman besides Martha who handled his dick attitude. The difference between Lydia and Martha was that Lydia was just a big of a dick as he was, only she had a pussy instead of a dick. Damn, he missed Martha.
He took a quick shower, and dressed in another pair of jeans, not bothering with a shirt. There were old scars around his arms from being a past user, and he’d thought about covering them up with ink. Instead, he kept them on display, so everyone knew who he was. Dick wasn’t ashamed of his past as an addict. It was what had saved him during those years, and now, it was the club that saved him.
Tugging on some boots, he made his way downstairs to find Snake, Jessica, Brianna, and Death sitting at the bar, drinking.
He walked into the kitchen where Lexie was making some hot chocolate for the little ones.
“Damn, why don’t you put your arms away?” Lexie said.
“Kids should know what will happen to them if they start shooting shit up.” Dick gave Simon a wink, and the young boy smiled. They didn’t keep anything from the club. “You should consider me a walking advertisement of what not to do with their life.”
“Seriously, enough. They’re my kids, and I’ll tell you what they can and cannot handle.” Lexie gave him a look that only mothers seemed to possess. It was that look that said, “If you fuck with me, I will fuck with you back. The difference? I’m going to make your life a living hell a lot longer than you’ll ever make mine.”
“Okay, they’re your kids. I’m going to get myself a sandwich.” When he found one made up, he took it, leaving the kitchen. He gave Simon a high-five on the way out.
“That was my sandwich for work today,” Jessica said.
“Sorry. You’ll have to deal with canteen food. You’re a nurse. I’m hungry, I come first.”
“Asshole.”
“You love me for it.”
“I’d love you even more if you’d stop fucking that bitch.” Jessica held onto Snake’s arms as she shot a glare across the room to Lydia.
“She’s got a great pussy, and she’s willing to open her legs for me. Consider her easy pickings.”
“I hope you find a woman that makes you work for it. You’re a pig,” Jessica said.
“You’re just encouraging him now,” Snake said, kissing his woman’s neck. “Leave him to make his own bad decisions.”
“Yeah, and I bet he’ll get a hard-on.” Jessica scrunched up her nose before turning to leave. “I’ve got to go.”
He watched the women leave, and he stood with Death, Snake, and Butler who’d come close to the bar.
“Do we have any news on Master?” Death asked, changing the subject quickly.
No one wanted to bring up the bastard’s name because of what he had done to Brianna and to Jessica. Dick wouldn’t even bring the bastard up. It was too much to see the women in pain. He’d been part of the retrieval for Jessica and Lydia. That shit had been messed up. He was a dick to the core, but he didn’t pick on women. Women were meant to be kept out of mess. He’d never raise his fist to a woman or do anything to hurt them, which was one of the reasons Lydia pissed him off. There was nothing he could do about it. Living with her would be a nightmare, and he was thankful that he’d not made her his old lady.
“No. Whizz isn’t much help either. He can’t go on a ghost, and so far, Master is a ghost. Whizz said that
he needed more than a name, and the vague description that we’ve got. His computer skills don’t allow him to pull something out of thin air. We’re even calling him fucking Master, so I don’t know how we’re going to help,” Snake said. “I want to kill him. I want to hurt him in ways he’s hurt my woman. Whatever Master has done, I want him fucking dead.”
Jessica had ended up with a scar on the inside of her thigh because of the brand Master had put on her leg. He’d used a branding iron or something like that. Brianna, Jessica, and Lydia all had them. All three women had ink over their marks so they didn’t have to see the brand any longer. Unlike his own scars, he admired the three women for inking over their scars. It was an awful thing to have to remember, and he hoped it helped the women to heal.
“We’ve got to wait for him to resurface,” Dick said. “I’ve spoken to all of the women at the strip club, and I’ve been in contact with the women who we rescued from Gonzalez. The ones who bore the same mark of the branding iron couldn’t give anything away. They knew nothing about him. It was like he didn’t exist. This is how he’s stayed quiet all these years. No one really knows him.”
“We’ve got to find him. He’s dangerous,” Snake said.
“I know, and he’s far more dangerous than us,” Dick said.
“Why’s that?” Death asked.
“We can be found easily. He knows where we are, and we know fuck all about him. It makes him pretty fucking dangerous, and us seem like pussies.” Dick took another bite out of his sandwich. He’d make another one for Jessica, and Snake knew it.
The sound of a squealing baby had all the men turning toward the stairs. Ripper was walking down with his son, Paul. Nine months ago Judi and Paul had almost died because of pre-eclampsia. Fortunately, Judi had pulled through, and so had Paul, their son.
