by Debra Kayn
"The three men who have settled down and built a family unit will be examples for the others." The controller nodded in satisfaction. "Humans have a natural instinct to want what others have. I'm sure they can move forward on their own. Avery Falls has enough females populating the area during the tourist season for them to seek a partner."
The handler moved behind the control center and stared up at the monitors. "This is amazing."
"Yes, very much so."
To see what they'd started with and where the men had ended up during their progress with the Alpha Bio Project was a fascinating journey. He took pride in what he'd created.
The handler pointed. "What makes this group of men succeed where others have failed?"
The controller clicked on the first monitor, zooming up to the participant. "A lot of the credit goes to this man. Demon, president of Avery Falls Motorcycle Club. A natural leader. He controlled the men outside of the program and has created a biker club, emphasizing the loyalty and bond they all share."
"Was he always a leader?"
"Sometimes, those who have no choices and are at the whim of others, if given a chance, will take a different approach to change the outcome of their life. His drive to be someone else was extraordinary."
"He was a follower?"
"Not quite." He tilted his head, watching Demon stand at the front of the clubhouse. "Demon found himself relegated to hitman status in a mob in Seattle with a debt he could never pay. There was no escaping. The project gave him a way out, and he took it. He has become someone who can control a large group of men—killers, as it is."
The handler scanned the monitors. "What about the other original? Johnny?"
"You must remember the first two years he was with us." He cocked his brow, finding Johnny one of their biggest achievements. "Working with Keenan has shown us that substance abuse is easier to overcome than the addictive qualities of our biological makeup when it has to do with our sexual tendencies. Poor Johnny was born in a whorehouse, and he was trained by the best women from an early age. He equated sex with love. In return, he stepped into the role of proprietor and teacher at an all-adult club until his cravings had no limit and his desires became darker. His habits were the hardest to break."
"I remember those early days," murmured the handler.
He flipped the screens to the next group of cameras. Melancholy settled over him as he watched the youngest participant sitting in her classroom. Bringing Trina into the project had rejuvenated his enthusiasm for the program.
During the process, he wasn't sure if someone so young would be trainable. But he found her easily brainwashed. An innocent, she soaked up attention and approval more than adults. As a child who would go through the foster system without finding a family of her own, she tried hard to please him at every step.
"What will become of the girl?" asked the handler. "She's not programmed like the others to be a killer."
"No, she's much more important for the immediate future." He zoomed the camera up to the boy next to Trina. "As long as she keeps her focus on studies and not young Zach."
"Studies?"
"Yes, Trina will be graduating soon and receiving a scholarship to Harvard University where she will be studying in an elite program offered to one person, guided by me, and will eventually join the organization." He glanced at the handler. "Because even with the advancements of science, I will not live forever and will need someone to take over where I stop."
The handler turned away from the screens. "But these men have completed the project."
"Have they?" Satisfaction rolled over his face, and he smiled. "Please tell me what our objective is for the Alpha Bio Project."
"We integrated experimental drugs into each of them to desensitize them from their emotions while creating actions to stimulate their reactions on demand. Once we had them at a base level, we started the enhancement phase—something that hadn't been done to success and where the military had failed many times over. We guided them into being self-sufficient by giving them Avery Falls, which they developed, commercialized, and made profitable by letting them govern their area to how they saw fit. Essentially, the project developed unproductive men who were a menace to society and programmed them into obedient killers, able to be activated with a mere switch from afar." The handler cleared his throat. "But, sir, the participants regained their memories and emotions. They know about the project and what we've done to them. Aren't you afraid the information will get out and put us in jeopardy?"
"They're incapable of turning against us."
"How can you be sure?" The handler inhaled deeply. "The other handler and I have been with these men since the beginning. We know what they are capable of doing."
He stood and walked away from the control desk. "We've succeeded in turning the program around. These men are now able to live independently. They can love and be loved. That's something they would've never received on their own. Each of them had chosen a life with a dead-end. They were unredeemable in the eyes of the world." He pointed up at the screens. "Now look at them and tell me if their lives are better thanks to the Alpha Bio Project."
"Surely, we haven't spent years and billions of dollars only saving society's derelicts." The handler gawked. "We're just going to walk away from Avery Falls and the men?"
"Of course not," he said.
"Then, what was the purpose?"
The controller approached the handler and put his hands on the other man's shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. "The purpose of the project—"
He grabbed the handler's head and, with a quick snap, broke his neck. The handler's body fell to the ground in a heap at his feet.
The controller squatted over him, looking in the lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. Using two fingers, he closed the handler's eyelids and whispered, "The purpose of the project is to create programmed killers. Bringing them back to us is as simple as flipping a switch."
He straightened, took off his white lab coat, and hung it on the hook by the door. With one last look around the control center, he walked out of the room.
Sixty seconds later, the room imploded.
Dear readers —
Thank you for reading the Avery Falls Motorcycle Club series!
If you'd like to keep up on my book releases, chat with me, and see pictures of my life in the Bitterroot Mountains, I would love to have you follow me on social media. I'm on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and have a website with links to a huge backlist of books.
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LOVE,
Debra Kayn
Author Bio
Debra Kayn is published by Grand Central Publishing, Simon & Schuster Publishing, Carina Press - Harlequin Enterprises Limited, and repped by agent Stephany Evans of FinePrint Literary Management.
Believing everyone deserves to love and be loved, she takes the most unlikely characters and turns them into heroes and heroines.
She lives with her family in the Bitterroot Mountains of beautiful North Idaho, where she enjoys the outdoors, the four seasons, and the wild animals that gather in her yard.
Website: www.debrakayn.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/DebraKayn
Facebook: www.facebook.com/DebraKaynFanPage
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Debra Kayn's Backlist
Avery Falls Motorcycle Club
The Switch
The Intuition
The Implosion
The Four Stages of Loving Dutch Owen
Patches: Tarkio MC
His Road Dog
His Old Lady
His Other Half
His Loyal Rebel
Choices: Tarkio MC
Chasing His Fox
Burning Hot Rumors
Two Hearts Born to Love
All of His Secrets
Slag Motorcycle Club series
Roar & Lizzy – A Forever Kind of Love
Elling & Jackie – A War of Forbidden Love
Peer & Coco – A Runaway For Love
Escape to the Bitterroot Mountains series
Every Little Piece of Him
Every Girl Needs a Hero
Every Second in his Arms
A Brikken Motorcycle Club Saga series
Chief
Jett
Olin
Thorn
Notus Motorcycle Club series
Hard Reality
Hard Mistake
Hard Drifter
Hard Escape
Hard Proof
RONACKS MOTORCYCLE Club series
...or something
Don't Say It
Rather Be Wrong
Can't Stop Fate
Red Light: Silver Girls series
Blow Softly
Touch Slowly
Fall Gently
Moroad Motorcycle Club series
Wrapped Around Him
For Life
His Crime
Time Owed
Falling For Crazy
Chasing Down Changes
Bantorus Motorcycle Club series
Breathing His Air
Aching To Exhale
Soothing His Madness
Grasping for Freedom
Fighting To Ride
Struggling For Justice
Starving For Vengeance
Living A Beautiful War
Melt My Heart - Anthology
Laying Down His Colors – Bantorus Motorcycle Club
A Hard Body Novel series
Archer
Weston
The Chromes and Wheels Gang series
Biker Babe in Black
Ride Free
Healing Trace
Playing For Hearts series
Wildly
Seductively
Conveniently
Secretly
Surprisingly
Modern Love – Anthology
The Sisters of McDougal Ranch series
Chantilly's Cowboy
Val's Rancher
Margot's Lawman
Florentine's Hero
Single Titles
The Sandbar Saga
The Higher You Fly
Suite Cowboy
Hijinks
Resurrecting Charlie's Girl
Betraying the Prince
Love Rescued Me
Double Agent
Breaking Fire Code
— SNEAK PEEK —
The Four Stages of Loving Dutch Owen
By Debra Kayn
Available at all retailers
Part One
She waited for something to happen to her. Something colorful and exciting. Little did she know, her life was more colorful than anyone else's.
Chapter 1
A group of men talked loudly around the burning barrel behind the building. Marla tiptoed to the picnic table without anyone noticing. She lifted the beer can left behind and brought it to her mouth, guzzling until there was nothing left.
The musky taste almost as good as a burger from McDonald's.
Not the Happy Meal cheeseburger her mom bought her for her eighth birthday, but the bigger hamburger with the special sauce her mom would eat when she remembered there wasn't food in the house.
Sometimes, if she stayed extra quiet, her mom fell asleep while eating. Marla was always waiting nearby, ready to save the food before it dropped on the dirty floor. During those times, she'd eat because her mom always forgot about the food when she woke up.
Finders keepers.
Hurrying back to her hiding spot underneath the bushes at the corner of the building, she waited for the men to go back inside.
Her stomach growled, eating her insides. She wrapped her arms around her middle, afraid the noise would alert them to her presence.
She hadn't eaten in three days. It was the longest she'd gone without food since the police took her mom away.
Usually, when her mom left her, she would always find soda crackers and cheese in the kitchen. There was always cheese.
She hated cheese, especially the kind her mom bought that came in plastic-covered slices. But right now, she'd eat a grilled cheese sandwich. She was that hungry.
She peered out from behind a branch on the bush and squinted. If she couldn't find leftover food soon, she'd need to walk back to the shed and try again tomorrow.
It was getting dark, and the mean dog on the other side of the field always came out at night and would chase her.
She hugged her middle. The pain returned again at the thought of going back to the shed.
The landlord had locked the house two days after her mom left and put a paper on the door too high for her to read. But he forgot to close the padlock on the shed's door in the backyard.
The shed was her home now until her mom returned. Afraid the landlord would return and lock her inside if he found the door open, she hid whenever he came around.
He was always mean, coming to the house and yelling at her mom about paying rent. She was scared of him.
The men's voices quieted. She leaned forward on her knees. Excitement about getting a chance to eat what they'd left on the picnic table made her want to pee.
They were going inside.
Saliva dripped from the corner of her mouth. She wiped her hand across her face, almost tasting the food. The last time she chanced stealing their leftovers, they'd had big, thick meat she'd never seen before. While it was hard to chew, she'd eaten everything she fit in her pockets and took back to the shed.
The men disappeared inside. She wiggled out from under the bush and started counting.
"One. Two. Three," she whispered as she crouched on her feet. "Four. Five..."
She looked all around and stood.
"Six. Seven." She forced herself to go slower, knowing she was not waiting long enough to see if it was safe. "Eight. Nine."
She stepped forward. "Ten."
Running to the picnic table, she stepped up on the wooden bench and pulled all the paper plates scattered on the surface toward her. Her chest pounded, scooping up stray potato chips that were left behind, fallen pieces of lettuce, and crumbs of bread. She shoved them all in her mouth, unable to wait until she got back to the shed.
Her stomach talked, telling her to eat more. She picked up a plate and licked the ketchup off the paper. It was sweeter than candy.
Scrambling underneath the table, she looked for any scraps that had fallen. Her throat got smaller, and she opened her mouth to breathe.
"Hey, what are you doing?" bellowed a man.
She froze, curling against her knees, trying to make herself invisible. Without moving her head, she looked toward the door of the back of the building.
Big, black boots thunked against the ground and stopped at the corner of the table. Afraid to move in case she made noise, she ignored the pain in her palms from the pebbles on the asphalt digging into her hands.
The man walked to the side of the table. She leaned away from him, unable to see his upper body.
A hand appeared underneath the table. She jerked, but her legs wouldn't work.
His fingers grabbed her shirt. She wrapped her hands around his wrist, pushing him away, but he wouldn't let go.
A whimper escaped her mouth as he dragged her toward him. He lifted her off the ground by her shirt. She gasped, reaching out for the bench, the table, the air, anything to help her get away.
Plunked onto her feet, she scurried away from the large presence in front of her. He dragged her back to him.
"Hold on, you little mouse." He shook her, causing her to cry out. "What the fuck?"
He hauled her up to her tiptoes. She raised her gaze and glared at him.
"You're a little girl," he mumbled.
His mean eyes widened. She panted, seeing the moon in his brown eyes. Her mom always swore mean people were missing the moon-shaped light in their eye
s.
He set her on top of the picnic table and planted his boot on the bench, leaning toward her. She glanced at the empty plates.
"Who are you?" he asked.
Kids at school always made fun of her name and called her Marble. All she wanted to be was a girl with two first names like Beth Ann and Sadie Lee.
So, she lied. "Marla...Marie."
He let go of her shirt and narrowed his eyes. "Marla Marie, huh?"
She crossed her arms in front of her. He wasn't supposed to touch her. Every kid knew only moms and dads could touch kids.
"What are you doing hanging around back here?" He sat down on the bench.
She looked at him harder now that his back was to her. He had a lot of hair. She fingered the end of her strands. His weren't as long as hers. She pulled her hair straight down to her leg.
Like the men who used to come over to the house and drink with her mom, he smelled like smoke and alcohol. She touched the leather vest and jerked her hand away, afraid he'd slap her.
"Don't your folks want you at home?" He looked up at the sky. "You're losing daylight."
Her stomach ached. Nobody knew her mom wasn't home.
Since school was out for the summer, even her teacher wouldn't know what happened to her mom.
"You don't talk much, do you?" He looked over his shoulder at her.
She lifted her shoulder. There was nothing to say. He was nosy.
"You've got ketchup on your forehead." He nudged her leg. "Hungry?"
She swallowed, rubbing the sticky spot on her face. As if her stomach answered him, her belly growled.
"Want a burger?" He stood and faced her. "What do you say, Marla Marie?"
Only because she liked hearing him say her first and middle name together as if they were one, she nodded.
He lifted his chin. "Come on."
He walked to the back door. She jumped off the picnic table and turned to run off but stopped. Looking at the open door, the man had gone inside. He wasn't going to chase her.
She leaned, trying to see inside. Slowly walking to the building, she peered down the hallway and spotted a bunch of people inside.
