OWNED & UNTAMED (A Back Down Devil MC Romance Novel)

by London Casey

  Duke stared at me with his perfectly squared off jaw, full of dirty scruff. I couldn’t help but wonder what it felt like. His eyes were as dark as I always remembered them, even if they looked a little more lost than normal right then.

  It had been years.

  So we stood there, staring at each other.

  Duke forever stubborn. Me forever hurt by his actions.

  “Jim here?” he finally asked.

  “Inside. Drinking whiskey.”

  “Shit,” Duke said.

  He stepped up to the next step, then he was on the porch. His shoulders were as wide as the house. Time had been good to his muscles, that was for damn sure. Duke had always been strong and lean, but once he entered the military he became thickly carved with muscle.

  My eyes looked at the leather cut he wore.

  So all of it was true.

  I pointed to the leather cut. “Back Down Devil…”

  “What about it?”

  “You’re a criminal now?”

  “You here to judge me?”

  “This is my house, Duke. My father’s dead. You knew that, right?”

  “Sweetie, listen to me…”

  “No. I won’t.” I stepped out onto the porch and nodded to the door. “You want to go save him? Do it now. Do what you said you were going to do a long time ago.”

  Duke walked to the open door and stopped. He turned and looked right at me. Down at me, actually.

  Why the fuck did he always have to look so good?

  A hand shot out and touched my arm. “I never let anyone down, sweetie. And if I did, then I guess I owe some apologies. I thought I was saving everyone.”

  I didn’t expect that from him, considering the way our phone conversation went.

  Then Duke leaned down and pressed his lips to my cheek. His scuff was like sandpaper. His lips were soft, just like I always remembered them to be.

  And then he walked into my house.

  Back into my life.

  Back into my heart.

  nine.

  (duke)

  What the fuck are you thinking?

  I licked my lips and could taste Belle. Fuck, I never stopped tasting Belle, even after the years passed by. I wasn’t into the whole apologizing shit either. But if Jim was going to hurt himself, I wanted to be there to kick his ass before he did it.

  Sometimes the demons won the fight, okay? That was just how it went. You came back from that other place but you never were allowed to leave it. That’s why I did what I did with my life. Keeping my freedom kept me a step ahead of those demons. Shit, it put me side by side with the reaper, but that was a risk I was willing to take.

  The house was different from the last time I saw it. It was bigger, an addition put on. The idea made sense. Belle’s old man worshipped Jim. Fuck, I was jealous of Jim the way Big Jim looked at him. I wanted Big Jim to be my father. No shock that he built a ranch level addition for his injured son. Knowing Jim though, he fucking hated it. He hated any restriction. Being a hot head was what made me and Jim good friends for such a long time.

  I turned the corner in the kitchen and looked toward the living room. Jim sat with the television off and a bottle of whiskey in his hand. I entered the room and walked to a chair and plopped down.

  He looked at me, looked away, then looked again. “What the fuck?”

  “Jim,” I said.

  He held out the whiskey bottle and studied it. “What kind of whiskey is this? It makes ghosts come to life.”

  I leaned forward and plucked the bottle from his hand. “I’m not a ghost, brother. I’m right here.”

  “Brother,” Jim said and laughed. “You still think of yourself as that?”

  “Cut the bullshit. What the fuck are you doing drinking this shit?”

  “Tastes good,” Jim said. “Like the old days.”

  “Sitting out behind the shed sipping Big Jim’s whiskey is different than this. You were choking on your puke, huh?”

  “My sister fucking called you?”

  “She might have.”

  “You both can go fuck yourselves.”

  Jim wrestled to get to his feet. That’s when I saw the prosthetic leg for the first time. His jean leg pulled up and I saw the skinny metal bar that used to be a functioning limb. It took my breath for a second as Jim stood there.

  “Yeah?” he asked, obviously noticing I had been staring. “Look.”

  He pulled his jeans up even more.

  “Christ, man,” I said.

  I couldn’t tell him I was sorry. That would only add to the tension. We didn’t want to hear that shit. We didn’t want to hear that it was going to be okay. That anyone was sorry.

  “Again, Duke, go fuck yourself.”

  Jim walked to the kitchen and kept going. He exited the back door and slammed it shut. I held up the whiskey bottle and shook it. There was still plenty left in it.

  So I took a drink.

  What the fuck was I really doing there?

  **

  I saw Belle standing in the hallway, arms crossed. There wasn’t much light on her, but I could see the stress in her eyes. I was a nightmare to her. I used to be her dream.

  “How’d that go?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie, we’re just warming up.”

  I took two steps toward the door when she called my name in a shaky voice. I looked back and she was closer to me.

  “Thank you, Duke,” she said. “For coming up here tonight. I was terrified when I found him passed out. And throwing up. He has these pills… for pain… and I’m so afraid he’s going…”

  “Easy, Belle,” I said. “I told you before, you’re too beautiful to cry.”

  Christ, I needed to check myself.

  Going back in time was not going to help anything.

  I went to the back door and found Jim sitting on the back steps outside.

  I sat down next to him and looked out to the dark yard. First thing I saw was a big ass tree on its side. I thought for a second it was cut down but then I saw the massive roots sticking up like a million skinny fingers.

  “What’s with the tree?” I asked.

  Jim scoffed. “Fucking thing fell in a storm. Belle wants me to cut it up. Firewood.”

  “Yeah? What’s taking so long?”

  Jim looked at me. He curled his lip. “Asshole.”

  “What?” I asked. “If you don’t want to do it, call for help.”

  “I don’t need any help,” Jim said. “Not for the fucking tree. And certainly not from you. Jesus Christ, Duke. Where the fuck did you come from?”

  I bounced the whiskey bottle off his arm. “Have a drink with me, brother. For old times. Then I’ll talk.”

  Jim threw the bottle back and smacked his lips after taking a very hefty drink.

  “Talk,” he growled.

  “I heard about everything,” I said. “I got a fucking medal for what happened. People shaking my goddamn hand. Telling me I was some kind of hero. They fucking had the fire trucks out and shit for me. Like a goddamn parade. But I couldn’t get that scene out of my head. What you said to me. What all happened. I lost my edge, Jim. That’s truth. I figured you would recover, no matter what. You had Big Jim on your side. Shit, I wished that man was my father. And your sister. You had her. I didn’t want to come crashing into your lives with my stuff. Fuck, listen to me. I sound like a fucking bitch right now.”

  I stopped talking. I wasn’t going to sit there and throw excuses around.

  So then there was silence for a little bit.

  We passed the bottle back and forth.

  Then Jim asked, “How’d the MC thing happen?”

  “Brotherhood,” I said. “Long story. Saved me.”

  “Can’t ride with one leg, huh?” Jim asked.

  “You could do anything you want,” I said. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You’re choosing this right now. You’re choosing hell.”

  “I went to hell and it never left me.”

/>   “We all did.” I paused. “You saved two men’s lives. They have families now. They’re happy. Healthy.”

  Jim looked at me. “I couldn’t get to Bill.”

  I felt my heart starting to race. I didn’t like to do this share your war story bullshit. I gritted my teeth. Rage filled up inside me. I had to stand up. I wanted to take an ax to that fallen tree. No. A gun.

  “Sometimes I imagine if I did…”

  I spun around and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from Jim’s hand. I cracked it against the railing, breaking it. It was just like at the clubhouse with Cash. My hand wrapped tight around Jim’s shirt and I put him against the steps.

  I looked at the bottle and let it go.

  “You want to do it?” I growled. “Is that what you really want? Get rid of the demons? Huh? I have a gun with me, Jim. Take a walk. Meet your maker.”

  Jim made a growling sound and then spit right in my face. I let him go and stepped back. A second later he pulled himself up to his feet. He raised his fists and nodded to me.

  A half smile crept on my face as I nodded back.

  The door opened and Belle stood there. “What was that sound?”

  Me and Jim ignored Belle.

  Jim came right at me, tossing a weak right to my jaw. I barely moved.

  I swung back, hitting him in the gut. He jumped back, losing balance, and I grabbed the back of his shirt.

  “Come on, asshole!” I growled.

  “Stop!” Belle cried out.

  Jim lifted his head and thrust his forehead, smashing my nose. My eyes filled with water and then Jim got me with a good left, right combo. It sent me back and I tasted blood in my mouth.

  He hobbled at me, swinging a left. I blocked him and got a nice hook to his nose, opening him up. The fucking asshole would have better balance if he had taken the time to learn how to walk with his new leg. I could picture him in my mind being a stubborn prick about it.

  Jim punched quick and hit me in the shoulder. My bad shoulder.

  I let out a cry and jumped back. He got me good, breaking me open, leaving blood on my shoulder.

  “What the fuck?” Jim asked.

  “I got shot,” I said. I put my fists back up. “You done yet?”

  “You got shot? When?”

  “Shut up, Jim,” I said. “Hit me. Come on. Fucking hit me.”

  We closed in on each other when I felt a stinging pain on my cheek. I looked to my left and there was Belle. She was damn crazy. She swung again and slapped me square in the nose. Then she showed me that she picked up the broken whiskey bottle.

  Jim got one last punch at me before the fight truly ended.

  I was goddamn in disbelief.

  I slowly showed my hands. “Okay, sweetie. Take it easy.”

  “What is wrong with both of you?” she screamed. “You were shot?” She looked at Jim. “And you only have one leg!”

  Jim started to laugh. He had his deep, cocky laugh that got on everyone’s nerves. Except mine.

  I started to damn laugh.

  Belle dropped the bottle, tears in her eyes, and turned to storm away.

  “Ah, shit,” I said. “Belle!”

  She ran away crying.

  Shit, I had seen that scene so many times as a kid with her. Me and Jim one time piled up her dolls and lit them on fire to watch their faces melt. Man, we were fucked up kids.

  I looked at Jim.

  We nodded. A sign of respect.

  “Don’t ever waste my whiskey again,” he said.

  I watched as he hobbled to the back steps and climbed them.

  And there I was, outside and alone, bleeding, in the last place I ever thought I’d be.

  I really shouldn’t have wasted that whiskey.

  **

  Jim was on the couch, his eyes shut. He crashed freaking hard. I wished there was more I could do for him, but there was nothing. No book, no doctor, none of that could help what was swirling through Jim’s mind. It was the hardest damn thing to explain. The fantasy and dream coming true, being the worst of a nightmare you ever thought possible, and then you’re left teetering in and out of that nightmare.

  I turned and Belle was two inches from me.

  “Whoa,” I said. “Careful sneaking up on me like that.”

  “Why? You going to shoot me?”

  I grinned. “You never know, sweetie.”

  “You were shot,” Belle pointed out again. “For real.”

  “Wasn’t the first time,” I said. “Won’t be the last time either.”

  “Let me patch you up, Duke. That looks like a lot of blood.”

  I knew what I needed to do. Head to the fucking front door and be gone. Never come back to the house ever again. I didn’t know why I came to begin with.

  Fuck that, man, you know why.

  Yeah, right.

  To see Belle. To see what she looked like. I used to joke with her and tell her that since her name meant beautiful, she had a lot to live up to. This was back in her pre-pubescent days, when her hair was weird and greasy, her face pimply, her body awkwardly changing. Amazing how those few years I had over her felt like a lifetime then but didn’t matter later in life. I was the cool bad boy that smoked, had a motorcycle, and slept through school. And my eyes looked to her…

  Fuck.

  Belle put her hand into mine. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard that before,” I said with a wink.

  Her cheeks were suddenly blasted apple red.

  She took her hand from mine.

  She started to walk and I followed.

  I was known for making some really bad decisions. Hell, it was part of my charm.

  So when I moved by the front door, turning to go up the stairs, I looked back and grinned. Then I looked forward at Belle’s ass as she walked.

  I met her as a girl, loved her as a young woman, but right then, I was staring at a real woman. And she was in the presence of an outlaw.

  That was dangerous.

  ten

  (belle)

  It wasn’t until I hit the top step that I realized I had invited Duke upstairs. In my house. It was just years ago I had to sneak Duke around, desperate to save up enough money to get my first apartment so I could have Duke over anytime I wanted.

  I paused at the top of the steps and felt Duke right behind me. My body shivered, ached, and a rush of heat exploded through me. It was so sudden and so striking that my toes started to curl. The truth was that it wasn’t only Maggie going through a tough breakup. I had been with a guy that I forced myself to assume was the one. Everything about the relationship was convenient and right. I was in nursing school, he was in law school. Our dream was to have a big house, a big yard, a big family. I had no real idea how a nurse and a lawyer would have the time to have a family, but that didn’t matter then.

  I hadn’t been with anyone since my ex. And that was…

  “Everything okay?” Duke asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, swallowing.

  I led the way to the bathroom and flicked on the light.

  It wasn’t the first time me and Duke were in the bathroom together. The last time was much riskier. I couldn’t even look at the shower.

  “Sit down. Let me see what I have here.”

  I opened the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a large first-aid kit. I heard a noise and turned my head just in time to see Duke undressing himself. My hands clutched the first aid kit tighter as he tossed his leather cut to the floor. Then with one hand he ripped his dirty white t-shirt off and dropped that to the floor.

  I should have looked at his shoulder, you know, where he was bleeding from.

  Instead, my eyes took an obvious walk along the perfectly cut muscles that grazed his outlaw man body. He had been hot when we were younger; well-earned muscles and a lean body. I could hug him and my hands could easily touch. But as I stared at this man - this hulk - I wasn’t sure if hands could fit around him. Everything was so beautifully filled out. From hi
s chest to his stomach muscles, to muscles on the sides of his body, lines that made a V shape, cutting down into his jeans. Oh, and his arms. Fuck, his arms. They should have been illegal. Round shoulders that gave way to cuts of triceps and biceps, even his forearms were rippled. His hands were as big as ever, but definitely stronger. Duke made fists, veins popping out of his fingers and hands, rushing up his arms, twisting, turning, colliding like roots in the ground that held up a monster tree.

  Only this was a monster of a man.

  My lips fluttered as I stood up.

  Duke sat down.

  He had a white patch on his shoulder, covered in blood. I went to touch him but pulled back.

  I looked down at Duke.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I have to ask something.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Are you… clean?”

  “Clean? Like… did I shower?”

  “No, Duke. Clean. If I touch your blood…”

  “Oh,” he said. “Yes, sweetie, I’m clean. When I fuck whores, I wear a condom. And I never share my drug needles. Ever.”

  I wasn’t sure what was true and false there, but I let it go.

  I peeled the rest of the bloody patch off his shoulder.

  I winced at the sight of his shoulder. He obviously had been taken care of the right way, which sort of baffled me.

  Not my problem. Don’t ask. It doesn’t matter.

  I reached for a bandage.

  “You look confused,” Duke said.

  “Nothing. Nope.”

  “You know what you’re doing, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Because of Jim?”

  I froze. “Jim is missing a leg. There’s nothing to patch up there.”

  “You know what I mean, Belle.”

  I put the bandage to his shoulder. “Nursing school, Duke.”

  “Get the fuck out of here. You?”

  “I went for a little while,” I said. “After everything that happened, I sort of had an epiphany or something.”

  “To be a nurse?”

  “To help people who were hurt.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. After Jim was hurt and Duke disappeared, all I could do was think about my purpose in life. Then it hit me. Go be a nurse. Maybe I could then be someone to help someone like Jim. Or Duke. Maybe if the right nurse had been with Jim, he wouldn’t have ended up the way he was. Same for Duke.