Fueling the Edge

by Liberty Parker

  Fueling The Edge

  Liberty Parker

  Kayce Kyle

  Dedication

  On December 26, 2018, one of the most tragic things that could happen to a mother was bestowed on me. I lost my oldest son at the age of 24. Your smile, your laughter, your generous and loving heart are missed each and every day.

  This book is dedicated to you, Colton Daniel. Your Aunt Kayce and I love you and miss you so much <3

  * * *

  RIP Colton Daniel

  04/08/1994

  12/12/2018

  * * *

  ~Liberty Parker and Kayce Kyle

  Contents

  Cover Page

  Blurb

  Character Bible

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  About Kayce Kyle

  Walking the Crossroad

  Excerpt

  One Knight Stand

  Excerpt

  Fueling the Edge

  Twisted Iron MC

  Copyright © Liberty Parker & Kayce Kyle 2019

  Published by Liberty Parker & Kayce Kyle

  Cover by: Dark Water Covers

  https://goo.gl/mhVY1Y

  Model: Ryan Harmon

  Photographer: Reggie Deanching with @RplusMphotos

  Edited by: Darlene Tallman

  Formatting by: Liberty Parker

  * * *

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person or use proper retail channels to lend a copy. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text please contact

  authorlibertyparker@yahoo.com

  kaycekyle35@gmail.com

  * * *

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the authors’ imaginations. No part of this story is based on any true events or anyone’s life. If any MC names are used by any real, or true person, it is coincidental and in no way based on them or any real-life human being, living or not.

  Blurb

  Edge

  * * *

  I’ve only ever lived and breathed for one thing, and that was my club, my family.

  They’re all I’ve ever had since I was a child. My birth parents were original Twisted Iron MC members who were among the slaughtered during an attack. The only mission I ever thought I’d find myself on was protecting this club—not my heart. Not the heart that beats within my chest, no, she has a name. Talia. She saved my life once, and I’m willing to risk it all if I can keep her safe. She thinks she can martyr herself to protect me, but I won’t let her go that easily.

  * * *

  Talia

  * * *

  He was a living and breathing embodiment of everything I had been running from. Or so I thought, the day I found his near-lifeless body. It’s true what they say. Looks can be deceiving. Every single horrible thing his physical appearance represented to me, turned out to be untrue. I was in hiding, on the run from my past. That’s when the present, and my possible future, found me. Some might say that I found and saved him, but that wouldn’t be my truth. Now that we’ve found each other, my past is being forced out into the open. I’ve been down this road before, and I refuse to let anyone else be victimized—even if it means walking away from the happiness I’ve finally found.

  Character Bible

  Twisted Iron MC

  * * *

  Rogue—President

  Bane—VP

  Sandman—Rogue’s Enforcer

  Pyro—Bane’s Enforcer

  Shadow—Club’s IT tech

  Stone—Treasurer

  Fox—Patched member(sniper)

  Edge—Road Captain

  Story—Patched member

  Phantom—Secretary

  Stitches—Club Doctor

  * * *

  Prospects

  * * *

  Pee-Wee

  Shifter

  Stretch

  Shade

  * * *

  Women

  * * *

  Harmony (Outlaw) Mercenary’s Old Lady

  Talia (Trouble) Edge’s

  Harlow—Bane’s

  Prologue

  Edge

  My body feels as heavy as lead, and although I’m unable to force my lids open, I can hear someone moving around me. My body aches from the pain even though I feel sedated. Am I dead? In a coma? The uncertainty threatens to consume me as I’m stuck laying here. Wherever ‘here’ is. This is unnerving and frustrating. If I’m in a coma I wish these fuckers would pull the plug and put me out of this misery. If I’m caught somewhere between heaven and hell, I have a feeling I’m closer to the pits of hell. That is until the soothing voice of what I can only describe as an angel’s hum serenades the darkness I’m seemingly trapped in.

  “Lucky for you, Edge, I’m a registered nurse. And, I know people.” The soft material of what feels like a warm, wet washcloth begins to rub gently across my abdomen. The way her angelic voice strums through my ears comforts me, but it’s not one I’m familiar with. It’s definitely not Harmony or Harlow. Ah, I’m in a motherfucking hospital. She’s a nurse and I am in a god-forsaken hospital left to rot in some fucking coma. Rogue knows my wishes if ever I were to be in this situation. Pull the goddamn plug. I can feel the washcloth as it continually glides across various parts of my body. Yet, I can’t move my fucking legs. I feel her run the cloth up and down my cock, but what I don’t feel is the motherfucker growing. Ah, hell no! My cock is paralyzed? Yeah, Rogue can’t get here quick enough and yank this damn plug or whatever. If I can’t ever get a hard on or sink it into a nice, tight, wet pussy, fucking kill me now.

  Chapter One

  Edge

  My perception of time has been lost, yet somehow, I know that numerous days and nights have passed. I’m now convinced that I’m being held captive, as there is only ever this one woman’s voice and presence I hear and sense. Occasionally, there is a male presence that accompanies her. His voice is deep and always exudes an element of caution. Unless I’m stuck in purgatory awaiting judgment, any doubt that I am in fact being held prisoner and drugged has subsided. Who is this woman and the man I occasionally hear? Internally, I’ve given up hope that Rogue and my brothers will ever find me. Maybe it’s for the best, because I am lost now. I’ve let them all down and to what to degree still remains a mystery. There may not be a family and club to get back to. With that thought, I feel my heart physically ache inside my chest.

  A loud beeping sound alerts me and at this point, I can feel any and all will I have inside me slowly giving up and dying. “Oh no you don’t, big boy,” her smooth voice penetrates my hearing and I want to open my eyes. I want to see her. I want to fucking know who she is. “There. That should help calm that mind of yours.” Who is this woman? My guardian angel? A goddamn psycho that wants to keep me alive so I can get well and she can look into my eyes as she watches the life fade from them? Can’t blame a man for being paranoid considering we’ve had many enemies over the years. Not all of whom have been men. Those m
en we’ve taken from this world had families that I’m sure wouldn’t mind getting their revenge. Whatever she must’ve injected me with is taking effect as its heat slithers through my veins, transforming my sadness and anxiety into a feeling of bliss. The soft skin of her hand makes gentle contact with my chest when she rests it there. “Come on, Edge. It’s been two weeks now. I know you’re tired, but you have to keep fighting. I’ll be pissed if I’ve wasted my time and supplies on a lost cause. You at least owe me an explanation of who you are and why you were on my property.” She softly pats my chest as I begin to process her words and feel the warmth of her presence shift away from me.

  * * *

  Talia

  * * *

  “Each day that passes, he’s getting closer to waking up. You know it will most likely be any minute now, right?” Briggs asks me, arching a single brow, displaying his worry for me. “Maybe I should hang around until he comes to. It’s just strange how he ended up out here. And in an MC cut? Come on, Talia. This is beyond suspicious and I don’t trust it. Sure, he’s suffered some injuries. Some more significant than others, but you know firsthand how these types of men are.” He strokes his greyed beard as he shifts his eyes from me to Edge.

  “Briggs, you worry too much. I don’t see how Frank could’ve hired him to find me. Look at him, he has been in and out of consciousness the entire time he’s been here.” Reaching down to the table next to Edge, I grab a new saline bag and hook it up. Raymond Briggs. Ex-police chief in Twisted Trails turned hole-in-the-wall bar owner and extremely protective of me. When I went on the run two years ago from my ex old man, I found myself in this town and in his bar one night. Sensing something wasn’t right, he offered me shelter for the night. That night turned into an unbreakable bond. I never knew my father, and Briggs has naturally stepped in and filled that void. Sure, I call him Briggs, but he’s the closest thing I will ever get to a dad. He’s a widower, and he and his wife Beth never had any children of their own. Such a shame a great man such as him and his wife were never able to have a child, yet my sperm donor is most likely roaming around the world to date spreading his seed and leaving.

  “He could’ve been hurt walking those back trails searching for you. I don’t trust him, Talia.” Briggs continues running his hand through his beard, deep in thought. “I’m warning you, something isn’t right here. I can’t place my finger on it, but my gut is screaming at me that this man is trouble. I don’t like it,” he mutters, shaking his head as the last part of his statement can be heard under his breath. It takes all of my self-restraint to hold back the roll of my eyes.

  “You always think the worst, don’t you?” I lean into him and pat the top of his broad shoulder. It’s in his nature to over analyze everything. Always seeing the worst in a situation before thinking there’s a possibility of something good. But I love the old goat, so I deal with it. Even with everything I’ve been through, I still like to give someone the benefit of the doubt before I lay judgement at their feet.

  Walking over to a nearby overstuffed chair in my living area that’s now been turned into an infirmary, Briggs plops his giant self down. “No, Talia. You, my darling, have just made a career out of giving the wrong people in life your trust. You’re my responsibility now, and my sole duty is to protect you until the day I draw my last breath.” He thins his lips and folds his enormous arms across his chest.

  Shaking my head at his worry, I walk over to a nearby corner of the room and take my double barrel shotgun into my hands. “And you know I love you for that, but you should know that I haven’t forgotten the lessons I’ve learned, either. Doesn’t mean that what I’ve been through has to harden my heart completely. It just means that I can care, but also stay prepared.” I smile as I break open the barrel on its hinge and physically load cartridges into each chamber.

  “Watch out!” Edge hollers, catching both mine and Briggs’ attention. Briggs stands and we both approach him, my shotgun still in my hand. As we inch closer, I can tell he’s having a nightmare. Without much thought, I pass the shotgun to Briggs. Edge begins to thrash around in the bed, so I sit next to him on the bed before I begin running my fingers through his hair. Briggs used to do this to me when he’d catch me having a nightmare and I can’t think of a single time that it didn’t help. Even though I had a mother growing up, she wasn’t much of one, so any nurturing qualities I have come from my nursing background and Briggs.

  “Shh. Everything's okay now. You’re safe, Edge.” With my words I watch as his body relaxes and he slowly begins to settle, letting out a breath of air. His head turns until his cheek is nestled against my hand. Softly, I stroke the side of his stubbled face and continue to help him relax until his sleep eventually evens back out. Something about this man makes me want to care and nurture him, but at the same time my guard is still up.

  “I still don’t know how I feel about this, Tal,” Briggs grumbles, reminding me of his presence next to me.

  “You’re overexaggerating,” I admonish him. “Can’t you see by now that this man isn’t in any condition to harm me?” Casting my eyes down to the firearm I handed him earlier, I continue, “I clearly have the advantage in this situation anyway. He wouldn’t make it out of that bed before I’d have brain matter all over the place to clean up. Now, if you have better things to do, you can leave now. I’ve got this.” I try once again to let him off guard duty as I extend my reach to reclaim my shotgun.

  “Not on your life,” he declares, pulling the gun away from my grasp before looking down at his watch.

  “Stubborn, old fool,” I teasingly say, retreating as I turn my focus back on Edge.

  “Never claimed to be anything but,” he reciprocates.

  I knew Edge was getting closer daily to waking up fully. I’ll admit that I have kept him in a sedated state of existence, but that’s only because I know bikers and how stubborn they can be. His injuries were and are significant, and I dragged him back knowing fully that I am not equipped to examine him for internal damages or do any x-rays. I’ve been using my nursing skills and knowledge to guide me, completely understanding that if he didn’t survive, that too would be on me. But, I didn’t know him and still don’t, and while Briggs’ instincts scream Edge is a complete danger to me and my safety, my own shout something different. From what I can tell, though, this man is healing and has no potentially fatal injuries. Again, time will tell whether that’s true or not. Gambling with a human life is not something I normally would do, but he was found on my property which is secluded and extremely well-hidden. So, we were meant to cross paths for one reason or another. Either I will heal him, or he will die.

  The savory smell of my homemade chicken soup invades my nostrils, drawing my attention toward my kitchen. “I need to go check on the soup and separate some of the broth. His stomach is going to have to gradually get used to solids again, so I’ll just give him the stock at first. It’s packed with the nutrients from the vegetables and the protein from the chicken,” I look up at Briggs and declare as if he cares at this point about my ramblings where Edge and this entire thing are concerned.

  He lets out a deep sigh. “I’ll be right here. Shotgun ready to end him if he wakes and makes one wrong move.”

  “I’m still alive and breathing thus far. Surely you aren’t thinking of starting sleepovers at this stage of his recovery? You do have a bar to run, old man,” I reply, passing him by as I make my way to get the soup ready for whenever Edge decides to pop those eyes open and eat. “I need to empty his cath bag when I return.” All I hear is some unintelligible grumbling from Briggs.

  Two days have now passed since Briggs was here hovering. He usually stops by daily to check on me, and even though I’ve lowered Edge’s sedation, he still hasn’t awakened yet. There’s been a few times he began to stir around, and I watched as his closed lids flickered, but nothing. Fuck. Maybe his injuries were too severe and he’s barely anything more than a soul trapped in a physical body now. Nervousness begins to flourish an
d take me over and I begin pacing the floor. What have I done? What made me think I had the right to take a man’s life into my hands? I’m an unemployed nurse, not a damn doctor. I live in hiding. In constant fear that my ex will find me one day and end my life. Now, I’ve dragged another into this mess. Crossing my arms over one another, I try to comfort myself as I briskly rub them.

  “Ah, fuck,” Edge’s weakened, cracked voice startles me. Looking at him I can feel my eyes sprout widely in astonishment when I see his dull, emerald orbs focusing in on me. I’m unsure if the look he’s giving me is one of confusion, a warning, or both.

  Noticing the shotgun out of my peripheral, my first instinct is to lunge toward it, grab it, and point it inches from his face. He grimaces and winces out in pain making a poor attempt at raising his arms above his head as I shove the barrel of the gun inches from his face. “Not taking any chances here, and I won’t hold back on shooting first and asking questions later.” Slowly his eyes begin to narrow before turning to slits. He begins to lower a hand and I inch my weapon closer. “I won’t hesitate. I mean it.” My voice comes out shakier than I had anticipated, and now my hand isn’t as steady.