Flamed with Courage: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  FLAMED WITH COURAGE

  A CASH BAR NOVEL

  Hayley Faiman

  Flamed with Courage

  Copyright © 2018 by Hayley Faiman

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Designer: Pink Ink Designs. Cassy Roop. http://www.pinkinkdesigns.com

  Editor: My Brother’s Editor. Ellie McLove. http://mybrotherseditor.net

  Proofreading: iScream Proofreading Services. Rosa Sharon. http://www.iscreamproofreading.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Visit my website at

  http://hayleyfaiman.com

  ISBN-13:978-1724577108

  ISBN-10:1724577107

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Other Titles By Hayley Faiman

  Stay Connected

  About the Author

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  EPILOGUE

  DOUBLED WITH REGRET

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  EPILOGUE

  Special Thanks

  Other Titles By Hayley Faiman

  MEN OF BASEBALL SERIES

  Pitching for Amalie (Men of Baseball #1)

  Catching Maggie (Men of Baseball #2)

  Forced Play for Libby (Men of Baseball #3)

  Sweet Spot for Victoria (Men of Baseball #4)

  RUSSIAN BRATVA SERIES

  Owned by the Badman (Russian Bratva #1)

  Seducing the Badman (Russian Bratva #2)

  Dancing for the Badman (Russian Bratva #3)

  Living for the Badman (Russian Bratva #4)

  Tempting the Badman (Russian Bratva #5)

  Protected by the Badman (Russian Bratva #6)

  Forever my Badman (Russian Bratva #7)

  Betrothed to the Badman (Russian Bratva #8)

  Chosen by the Badman (Russian Bratva #9)

  Bought by the Badman (Russian Bratva #10)

  Collared by the Badman (Russian Bratva #11) - Fall 2018

  NORTORIOUS DEVILS SERIES

  Rough & Rowdy (Notorious Devils #1)

  Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils #2)

  Rough & Rugged (Notorious Devils #3)

  Rough & Ruthless (Notorious Devils #4)

  Rough & Ready (Notorious Devils #5)

  Rough & Rich (Notorious Devils #6)

  Rough & Real (Notorious Devils #7)

  CASH BAR SERIES

  NOTORIOUS DEVILS SPIN-OFF

  Laced with Fear (Cash Bar #1)

  Chased with Strength (Cash Bar #2)

  Flamed with Courage (Cash Bar #3)

  Blended with Pain (Cash Bar #4) - January 2019

  FORBIDDEN LOVE SERIES

  Personal Foul (Forbidden Love #1)

  Kinetic Energy (Forbidden Love#2)

  STANDALONE SERIES

  Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale

  Stay Connected

  WEBSITE – hayleyfaiman.com

  FACEBOOK —https://www.facebook.com/authorhayleyfaiman

  READER GROUP—https://www.facebook.com/groups/433234647091715/

  GOODREADS — https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/10735805.Hayley_Faiman

  AMAZON — amazon.com/author/hayleyfaiman

  NEWSLETTER— http://eepurl.com/b5a_1v

  BOOKBUB—https://www.bookbub.com/authors/hayley-faiman

  About the Author

  As an only child, Hayley Faiman had to entertain herself somehow. She started writing stories at the age of six and never really stopped.

  Born in California, she met her now husband at the age of sixteen and married him at the age of twenty in 2004. After all of these years together, he’s still the love of her life.

  Hayley’s husband joined the military and they lived in Oregon, where he was stationed with the US Coast Guard. They moved back to California in 2006, where they had two little boys. Recently, the four of them moved out to the Hill Country of Texas, where they adopted a new family member, a chocolate lab named Optimus Prime.

  Most of Hayley’s days are spent taking care of her two boys, going to the baseball fields for practice, or helping them with homework. Her evenings are spent with her husband and her nights—those are spent creating alpha book boyfriends.

  From a little spark may burst a flame.

  Dante Alighieri

  Dedication –

  May the flame inside of you burn and never extinguish.

  May your strength outweigh your fear.

  PROLOGUE

  WHITLEY

  SIXTEEN YEARS OLD

  “We’re done, Whitley. This group isn’t what it was when I joined,” my father announces.

  We’re sitting at the dinner table, our food untouched as my parents tell me about their plans for the future. My mother reaches out, wrapping her fingers around my wrist, her big brown eyes look sadder than normal. I notice offhandedly that she’s lost quite a bit of weight recently.

  She clears her throat. “We’re going to go back to my family in the states, to the Notorious Devils. I know that my father’s club will help us, they’ll protect us. There are a lot of changes that are going to take place here, and they aren’t good ones. We need out, baby girl, before it’s too late,” she whispers.

  I nod, taking in her words. They just told me a couple months ago that my mother was actually born into the Notorious Devils’ Motorcycle Club. Apparently, my grandfather was a club president, and my parents ran away to get married and haven’t been back. Everything seems to be spinning around in my head. Right versus wrong, good versus bad, I don’t know what to believe anymore.

  “Everything will be okay, Whitley. We’ll protect you, and soon we’ll be safe,” my father murmurs.

  I don’t ask him, but I wonder, am I not safe now?

  The next morning, they leave, telling me that they’ll be home soon. They’re going to tie up some loose ends, then we’ll be on the road. The road to the states, to a new life, a completely different life. They tell me to spend the day at home and pack a small bag, put just a few important items inside. That once we get to where we’re going, we’ll buy more clothes and n
ecessities.

  My hands shake with each item I place in my bag. Not that I have much, because I don’t. I choose to take my favorite book, my favorite outfit, and a couple of pictures of me and some of my friends. Not much more. As the hours tick by, my stomach starts to twist with worry.

  One evening turns into two days, and then three. Looking around, I wonder what is going to happen to me, now. My mom and dad are both gone, and it doesn’t seem like they’re coming back. I can only imagine that wherever they are, it isn’t by choice, that things really are as dangerous as they claimed.

  A knock on the door causes my spine to straighten. Hurrying toward it, I look through the peephole. It’s Samuel Jones, and his right-hand man, Zachary Brooks. My thighs shake as I slowly open the door.

  Zachary’s eyes meet mine and his lips turn up into a smirk for a split second before he presses them together in a straight line.

  “I’m sorry to inform you, Whitley, but your parents were killed in an attack by those dirty scum bag bikers, the Notorious Devils. You need to come with us, now,” he says, keeping his voice soothing.

  I glance from him to Samuel and then back again. Taking a step back, I look behind me, looking around my living room. I didn’t want to believe that my parents just abandoned me and part of me is relieved that they didn’t. The rest of me is heartbroken because they’re gone, but I know that I can’t show it. Not to these men, at least.

  I don’t believe for a second that the Devils hurt my parents, not with the way they said we were going to escape and run to them, that they would actually be protecting us. I don’t believe any of it for a second, but Zachary and Samuel are standing in front of me, and I know, without a doubt they would force me to go with them.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I look back to Samuel, then Zachary. “What about my things?” I ask.

  Zachary snorts and Samuel reaches out, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. “You won’t need anything from here where you’re going. Every need you have will be provided, Whitley,” he coos.

  His voice is soft, gentle, and frightening as all hell. However, I can’t tell him, no. I’m sixteen, and he’s the leader of my father’s group. Even if both of my parents were talking about leaving, about how dangerous he is, he’s the only person I have right now. I don’t know the name of my grandfather in the Devils, or if he’s even still alive. I take too long to go with them, I know it when Samuel’s eyes flash with something sinister looking, and I shake my head.

  “Okay,” I shrug, trying to seem unaffected by what’s just happened.

  Samuel tugs me down the porch stairs, and I follow complacently behind him. Climbing into the back seat of his SUV, I look at my house. The front door is wide open, all of our belongings inside, including jewelry, clothes, and everything my parents ever owned.

  I sink my fingernails into the palm of my hand as we drive away. I don’t want to cry, not in front of these men, not when I think they’re part of the reason my parents are gone. As a matter of fact, they probably killed them, themselves.

  They’ve always scared me, always. I would not be shocked if they were involved, especially with the way my parents had been acting recently. Now I’m with the devil and his evil side-kick. No telling what will become of me.

  Closing my eyes, I send a prayer up to whoever is listening.

  Help me.

  FREE

  NINETEEN YEARS OLD

  The clubwhore sucks me, my eyes roll in the back of my head as she deep throats my cock. My phone rings in my pocket, but I ignore it. I know it’s probably Gemma, and my girlfriend is the last person I want to talk to while I’m fucking a whore’s mouth.

  The whore’s hands slide up the back of my thighs and grab ahold of my ass, pulling me deeper down her endless throat. “Goddamn,” I groan as my cock twitches and I empty into her.

  She moans and whimpers as she swallows every drop of my cum. My eyes slowly open as she sits back on her haunches and I watch her lick her lips, looking far too satisfied. She reaches for my now half-mast cock and begins to stroke me. I don’t stop her as I dig my phone out of my pocket.

  My hips thrust into her palm, groaning as I thumb through my notifications and find my missed call and new voicemail.

  “Mason,” her voice whispers, and she sounds fucking scared. “Help me, baby, I need help,” she whimpers.

  My hips freeze and the whore does as well. Her brows knit together as my hands start to shake. I call Gemma back, immediately on speakerphone. “Where are you?” I bark.

  “It hurts so bad, Mason. Everything hurts,” she sobs.

  Clearing my throat, I try not to scream at her, but my heart is racing and I’m fucking scared. I’ve never been scared in my entire fucking life, and the feeling is foreign. I hate it.

  “Where are you, Gemma,” I demand, keeping my voice as soft as I can.

  “Home,” she croaks. “I’m calling the police, Mason.”

  The whore at my feet makes a noise and I cut my eyes to her, shutting her up. “No, don’t. I’ll be there in two seconds.”

  I hang up, quickly lifting my pants up over my hips. The whore reaches for my arm, but I shake her off. “I hope she’s okay,” she mutters, her eyes watering with wetness.

  Lifting my chin, I hurry away from her in search of my president, or a brother, someone. I see my best friend, Snake, with a whore bouncing on his cock, and I decide to find someone else.

  Bones is bellied up to the bar, so I wrap my hand around his shoulder and give him a shake. He looks down at me, and as my vice president I probably shouldn’t have shaken him the way I did, but fuck, I’m scared.

  “My girl just called me, said she’s home, hurt,” I mumble.

  Bones sucks back the rest of his beer as he stands. “You think it’s club business?” he asks. “Or you just need backup?”

  I shake my head. “Don’t know. It ain’t family shit or anything. She’s from a good family. Took her out partying last weekend and some guys from the Bastards club were around, touched her and I took them down. They talked some shit, but I never thought…”

  “Fuck, could be them, they’re a nasty bunch,” he growls.

  Together we swiftly walk out of the clubhouse. It doesn’t take us long to get to Gemma’s little shitty apartment. She’s eighteen, living on her own and works at the liquor store in town. It’s how we met, I was buying cigarettes and she was my cashier. Prettiest girl I’d ever laid eyes on, sweet and innocent, too.

  Silently, me and Bones run up the rickety staircase and I turn the knob on her front door, thankful that it’s unlocked. The scene in front of me makes my stomach twist. All of her shit is trashed, her furniture is turned over, and slashed.

  “Goddamn,” Bones mutters. Looking back at him in question he lifts his chin. “Bastards. I’d put my life on it, totally their fuckin’ MO.”

  I walk toward Gemma’s bedroom, Bones on my heels and the sight in front of me, it brings me to my knees. It’s my beautiful blonde-haired girl, lying in the middle of a blood-soaked bed. Her face so fucking swollen that I don’t even recognize her.

  “Gem,” I croak, forcing myself to stand. I hurry toward the side of her bed and take her hand in mine. “Gem, it’s Mason,” I rasp.

  “Help. Me,” she whimpers.

  Bones calls the president of the club, and I hold Gemma’s hand until the club doctor arrives. When he finishes his examination, my stomach empties. While I was getting my cock sucked by a whore, my poor girl was being brutalized by four members of the Bastards Motorcycle Club.

  WHITLEY

  EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD

  “Samuel Jones is dead,” Zachary announces to the group of people sitting stoically in the meeting room.

  Everybody sucks in a gasp, but I dig my nails into my palm instead. Samuel Jones dying just means more uncertainty. It means someone else is going to be in charge, and that someone is Zachary Brooks. As sick and mean as Samuel was, Zachary is ten times worse.

  “We all knew that the missi
on he was embarking on would be a dangerous one. We must remember that his death was not in vain. He went to bring back women, to bring back breeders for our cause,” he announces.

  My stomach twists each time he calls women breeders or mentions the cause. I don’t know what I believe in anymore, but I do know that this, it isn’t right. Nothing about this group is right. It scares the shit out of me. I completely understand why my parents wanted out, why they wanted to run and hide, and I now know that they were murdered by Samuel and Zachary, not the Notorious Devils.

  When the meeting is over, and Zachary appoints himself as the new leader with zero resistance. I know that this entire group is nothing but mindless zombies, they all practically salivate over Zachary. He stands up tall, a wicked smile on his lips as he looks around at his new minions.

  I hold my breath as Zachary walks down the steps of the stage and directly over to me. “Are you still working in the nursery?” he asks.

  Lifting my gaze up to his, I nod. “I am,” I admit, keeping my voice barely above a whisper.