by Kay Maree
The Dirty Dozen
MC EDITION
AN MC ANTHOLOGY BROUGHT TO YOU BY
KAY MAREE
Contents:
COPYRIGHT
WARNING
WRAITH
DESIRED
ROYALLY TAKEN
SLOTH
HAVOC’S TEMPTATION
CHARON MC
DANGER
DIESEL’S CHOICE
VIPER
SLADE
TANK
EXECUTIONER
COPYRIGHT
© 2019 by following Authors:
Wraith - Kathleen Kelly
Sloth – Kay Maree
Royally Taken - Elle Boon
Desired – Natasha Thomas
Diesel’s Choice – Lauren Firminger
Charon MC – Khloe Wren
Danger - Penny Blush
Havoc’s Temptation – Lauren Firminger
Executioner – Sammy King
Slade – VR Baucke
Tank – Ember Raine-Winters
Viper – Gemma Arlington
The right of the above authors to be identified as the authors of these works has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000
All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical or mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the authors.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
WARNING
The following stories have adult content.
Some also contain graphic violence and dark emotional scenarios which may trigger some readers.
Proceed with caution.
You have been warned.
Cover Design– Susan Horsnell and Kay Maree
Format – Susan Horsnell
WRAITH
KATHLEEN KELLY
WRAITH
Copyright © 2019 Kathleen Kelly
All Rights Reserved
Published by Kathleen Kelly
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Kathleen Kelly is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs, musicians or artists mentioned in this book. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold 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 you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
All efforts have been made to ensure the correct grammar and punctuation in the book. If you do find any errors please e-mail Kathleen Kelly: [email protected]
Thank you.
Disclaimer
The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.
Editing by Swish Design & Editing
Proofreading by Swish Design & Editing
First Edition 2019
All Rights Reserved
CHAPTER ONE
Jax
I’m standing in the clubhouse of the Harbingers of Death MC. The President is dead, the VP is dead, and a few of the other members got whacked too. We’re all here today to sort this shit out. There is dissension in the ranks as those who think they can take the crown step forward. I’ve been in this club my entire life. My father was a founding member. My claim for the crown is strong, but I’m not well-liked. That’s why I’ve bribed, threatened, and beat more than a few to make sure I’m voted in.
The Road Captain, Reaper, stands and glances at me. “We all know why we’re here. Our club is under threat from an outside source. We need to vote in a new President and VP. And if you all think it’s necessary, a new Sergeant at Arms.”
I scoff. “If we think it necessary? They’re dead, Reaper. Surely, he failed in his fucking mission?”
Reaper nods, lips in a thin line as he looks down on me. “Hook wasn’t here when all this shit went down. He’s always been a faithful soldier. I’d vouch for him.”
Hook stands. “I have no desire to take over. I give you my oath whoever you vote in will have me stuck to them regardless of their wish to be on their own or not. I’ll not fail another president.”
I’m surprised, I thought he’d want the brass ring, the crown, the presidency. I eye him sharply and find his gaze firmly planted on me. Ahh, he knows I’m making a run for it.
“Good enough for me,” states Reaper.
I glance up at him, nod once, stand, and look around the room. Slowly, all conversations cease as they give me their full attention.
“You all know me. You know who my father was. I’m asking for your support in backing me as your new president.” I look at the men and smile. “I give you my word we’ll find out who took our brothers from us, and vengeance will be ours.”
Someone behind me begins to clap, I turn to find Alec Petrov, son of Roman Petrov and the acting head of his family, walking toward me. His steps are measured and deliberate, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. Alec is Russian mob. We have business dealings with them, but it’s unusual to have him step foot in our clubhouse.
“Vengeance will be yours,” roars Alec.
I glance at Hook, who positions himself near me.
“I want the bastard who killed your men and took my wife, strung up and flayed alive. I want to dance on his dead body.” Alec grins at the room. “I want my wife back,” yells Alec, fist raised.
“Alec, this is club business. It’s private. We’ll need you to leave,” I state.
“I’ll make this easy for you all.” Alec puts his hand on my shoulder. “Vote Jax here in, and I’ll give your club one million dollars. Bring me the head of this Wraith, and I’ll double it.” Alec’s voice has gone steely, and he looks at each man with a crazy gleam in his eye.
“You’ll give us two million dollars if we vote Jax in?” asks Reaper.
“No, I’ll give you one million dollars if you vote Jax in. I trust him and know how ruthless he can be. I’ll give you two million if you bring me the Wraith.”
I shake my head. “Alec, this isn’t the way we do business. There’s a process. We need to vote. Others may want to throw their names in.”
“I’m not going to pay if they vote someone else in.”
I can’t believe my luck. Looking around the room, the men all look somber, but I know they’ll want the money.
“Alec, you need to let us carry out our business, our way.”
Alec smiles and nods. He winks at me, pats my arm, and strides out of the room.
<
br /> “Does anyone else want to run for president?” I ask.
“As if anyone is going to go against you now, Jax,” sneers Tank as he leans back in his chair.
“Agreed,” says Ryan and looks to the man next to him.
Around the room, one by one, they all vote me in.
Reaper is the last to vote. He grins at me and nods. “Okay, you’re the new president, but…” he pauses and locks gazes with me, “… if you don’t bring this Wraith to justice, you’re gone. Banished.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “Banished?” Reaper nods. “Sounds like a fair bargain. I guess the only question I have for you all is, what do we do with the first one million dollars?”
There is much laughter as my men look at me, most smile. Reaper holds out his hand, and I grasp it. He pulls me in close.
“I’ll support you, Jax. But fuck this up, and I’ll carve our sigil off your back myself,” whispers Reaper.
I let him go and nod. “I expect nothing less.”
CHAPTER TWO
Jax
With my cut on and my newly-found presidency patch firmly stitched to the front, I stalk out of the clubhouse with Hook following close behind. Reaper was voted in as Vice President, and Tank was promoted to Road Captain. This is not going to be an easy task. The key members of the newly-formed Chapter of the Harbingers of Death MC can barely stand to be in the same room with each other. I need to bind us together, and hopefully, the promise of money will go a long way in helping with that issue.
As I mount my bike, I glance at the new hierarchy. “My house. Meet me there in twenty.”
Reaper stares down at me, eventually nodding. The others follow suit. Hook starts his ride and backs out. I do the same. Hook points, and I grin. He’s taking his newfound job of babysitter very seriously. I pull out into traffic and head for home.
Parked on the side of the road, leaning against his Mercedes is Petrov. He watches me as I ride past and holds up a hand in salute. Even though I only catch a glimpse of him, I can see he’s grinning.
We go way back, Alec Petrov and I. The Harbingers of Death have been running girls, drugs, guns, anything the Russian mob needed moving. The partnership has been a good one for both sides. But Alec and I, we share a secret. It’s one of those deals where we watch each other’s back. Two million dollars buys a lot of trust—I’m not sure I want to be indebted to him for that much.
The ride to my house goes by in a blur. I pull into the carport and turn off my bike. Hook parks right beside me.
“Didn’t realize you lived on this side of town.”
I scrub a hand over my face and quirk an eyebrow at him. “Meaning?”
He walks to the front of the carport and looks out over the neighborhood, places his hands on his hips, and then casts an eye over my home.
“This is suburbia. It’s nice suburbia. Me, I live on the south side. Over near the train tracks. The neighbors over there don’t care how much noise the bike makes, but here… I think they’d care.”
I shake my head. “I get the odd noise complaint.” I purse my lips and mimic his stance at the front of the carport. “But we have an understanding. I keep it down, watch out for my neighbors, so there’s no break-ins, no nothin’. They think of me as their personal guardian angel.”
Hook squints at me and nods. “Right.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die. Come on, let’s get a beer and get to know each other.”
“You think I don’t know you, Jax?”
I grin at him. “I think you think you know me. So how about we check out the contents of my fridge, and we can see if your conclusions are right?”
“I can do that.”
I unlock my front door, and it opens with a loud creak.
“I can oil that up for you?”
“Nah, early-detection system. Back door is the same. No one’s getting in here without me hearing.”
“You got a dog, too?” asks Hook as he looks at the stainless-steel bowls next to the refrigerator.
“Had. Poor bastard got hit by a car last month. Haven’t replaced him yet.”
Hook curls up a lip and nods. I open the refrigerator and gesture inside.
“Domestic or imported?”
Hook peers inside. “Shiner Bock.”
“Domestic, good choice.” I hand him one and get one for myself.
Then I pull out my cell and dial the local pizza place and order six pizzas.
“Think that’s enough?” teases Hook.
“I can always order more. Sit.” I point at the chairs surrounding my dining table. “Tell me what you think you know about me.”
“Ruthless. You were going to get voted in. How’d you get Alec Petrov to cough up the money? You got something on him?”
I shake my head. “He’s an old…” I pause for effect, “… friend.”
Hook takes a sip of his beer. “Powerful old friend.”
I shrug and peel the corner of my beer label down. “Yeah. Look, Hook, I know you don’t trust me, but I want what’s best for the club. I want to be a good president, and I’ll work damn hard to make it all happen.”
“It’s a moot point. You’re president now. I’ve sworn allegiance. So long as the club prospers and you don’t try to tear us down from within, I meant what I said. I’ll protect you.”
“Good. What do you know about the Wraith?”
“Fucking nothing. Man’s a ghost. All we know is he took out one of our scouts for young women. The fucker was brutal. Karen was a good chick. Brought in plenty of girls. The way he cut her up? Fuck. That was some sick shit. And you know about the others.” Hook’s lips are turned down, a frown mars his face as he takes a long pull from his beer.
Karen was a club whore who found us the young women we sell into the sex trade or to private collectors. I never met her, but I know she was good at her job. The next person he took out was Declan Jones. He handled the merchandise, made sure they were pure—the virgins get us the most money. This Wraith cut his head off. Darius Todd was VP, and he negotiated the deals. We found his body in a warehouse. The fucker tortured him. The last person to die was our president, Thomas Strike, Hammer. He would personally deliver the precious cargo to the buyers. As far as we can tell, this man was after one girl, Ann Felder. She was married to Alec Petrov, head of the Russian mob and our new benefactor.
“Another million into the kitty sounds good, but we need leads to get the fucker. What if we put out a fifty K bounty on him? Do you think it’d be enough for someone to turn on him?”
Hook presses his lips in a firm line and tilts his head. “Maybe, but where do we start?”
The sound of Harleys pierces the air, signifying the others have arrived. Not long after the noise dies, there’s a pounding on my front door. Hook gets up, checks through the window first, then opens the door. I guess he meant it when he said he would look out for me.
Reaper and Tank walk inside. I can tell by Reaper’s expression of distaste that he doesn’t want to be here. I stay seated and wait for them to come to me. When they are about a foot away, I stand and extend my hand to him. He doesn’t hesitate, he shakes it good and hard.
“Beer?” I ask
“Yeah, whatever you’re drinking will be fine.”
“I’ll have one, too,” interjects Tank.
I open my fridge and pull out two Shiner Bocks. The boys all sit around my table, and I hand them their beers.
“I’ve ordered food. Pizzas, hope you like ‘em.”
Reaper squints at me and crosses his arms over his chest. “Tell me how you got Alec Petrov to back you?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t go to Alec. You have to know I was making the rounds within the MC to get the vote.”
“Oh, yeah, I heard all about that.” Reaper leans back, picks up his beer, and twists off the cap. “You’re a ruthless bastard, aren’t you, Jax?”
“If I weren’t the best man for the job, I wouldn
’t have pressed so hard to get voted in.”
“And Petrov?” asks Tank.
“I’ve known Alec for years. I didn’t ask for his endorsement, but I’m grateful for it.”
“He bought you the presidency. You know that, right?” asks Tank with a sneer.
I straighten up in my seat and reply icily, “I was going to get voted in. Alec sweetened the pot, sealed the deal. My father was in this MC and his before him. I’ve been around the club my whole life. I toed the line under Hammer, respected him, but the fucker got sloppy and got himself killed. I’m not stupid enough to leave myself unprotected.”
Hook nods. “We all know Hammer followed his dick.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“That night, he was meeting up with some chick. It’s what got him killed. Well, that and the fact he told me to stay away.”
“Why’d he do that, Hook? Why didn’t Hammer want you there? You were his Sergeant at Arms, his protector. It didn’t make sense,” says Reaper as he leans forward.
Hook shrugs and looks almost bashful under the scrutiny. “I don’t like to fuck with an audience. I like privacy. Hammer knew this, so he told me I could have the night off. You all know Hammer would fuck on a pool table in full view of the club if he felt like it. It’s not my scene.”
I bark out a laugh and then Tank follows. Pretty soon, all four of us are laughing. Hook’s face has gone a shade of red, and he shrugs again, a grin plastered to his face.
“You’re shy?” I chuckle.
“Man, I can’t fuck with an audience. I get stage fright. So, fuck you all,” he replies with a shake of his head.
There’s a knock at the door, and I go to stand, but Hook shakes his head and goes to the door. He does the same thing as last time checking the window first.
