Avery

by Addison Jane

  Avery

  The Phoenix Club Girl Diaries Book Three

  The Brothers by Blood MC

  Addison Jane

  Copyright 2021 Addison Jane

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  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

  Formatting by Swish Design & Editing

  Proofing by Swish Design & Editing

  Cover Design by Kellie at Book Cover by Design

  Cover Models by Nick Bennett and Madena Rose

  Cover Photography by Reggie Deanching

  Cover Image Copyright 2021

  All Rights Reserved

  To everyone who has really struggled this year. It’s been hard, so damn hard, but you can get through it and come out on the other side.

  AVERY

  I built walls around my heart.

  Determined to keep the world out.

  But when you are as well acquainted with loss as I am, you’ll do almost anything to protect those few last shards of yourself that are still intact.

  I walked into the clubhouse looking for a place to hide, a place with no strings.

  Not expecting to get wrapped up in a club president who knew how to get what he wanted.

  And he wanted me.

  SHOTGUN

  I was a leader.

  The hard decisions were mine to make.

  Though it was nothing new, I’d been making them my whole life. When my father tried to destroy the club, I chose my brothers, sacrificing my freedom to prove my loyalty to a family who didn’t share my blood.

  When Avery stumbled into the clubhouse, my calm was instantly drawn to her chaos. I craved control, and Avery was searching for someone to take it so she could feel something other than worthless.

  When my world was turned upside down, she stepped up.

  Her strength keeping me standing.

  And there was no going back.

  So when danger comes calling, looking to tear my family apart…

  … it was going to find out just how far I’d go to protect what’s mine.

  Dedication

  Blurb

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Epilogue

  More Books to Check Out

  Acknowledgments

  Connect With Me Online

  About The Author

  AVERY

  The loud bass rattled the walls, the music blasting from the speakers inside only dwarfed by the eighty or so people who were trying to talk over it.

  The Brothers by Blood MC knew how to throw a party, though I was still unsure of exactly what they were celebrating. My friend Holly’s ‘don’t ask questions’ lecture on the way there had been all the explanation I needed apparently. Her friends, Dakota and Meyah, from school, had welcomed me with open arms. And their men, while both reasonably quiet, had made it quite clear to the rest of the club and their visitors that I was there as a guest and not a piece of ass—despite my protests that maybe that was exactly what I was looking for.

  I took another sip of my drink, my nose crinkling as the liquid hit my tongue, the harsh bite of alcohol not quite as tasty when it was warm. Guess that was a testament to how long I’d been sitting out there, staring at the stars, trying to ignore the constant buzzing of my cell by digging my fingernails into the palm of my hand. That small action stopped me from pulling the offending device from my pocket and reading what I knew would be flooding in, not just from my friends but also from her friends and people I didn’t even fucking know.

  Birthday messages.

  Though this year, they were quite different.

  The excitement now poisoned.

  Happy birthday! Hope you’re okay.

  Happy birthday! I’m here if you need me.

  Happy birthday! I bet Micah is prou—

  “You’re not meant to be back here.”

  The harsh order was like a sharp prod in my ass, my entire body leaping off the ground, my glass and what was left inside flying from my grasp. It shattered on impact, the collision with the concrete sending tiny shards of glass scattering around my feet. “Shit,” I cursed, unable to stifle the sharp, bitter laugh that escaped with it. Tilting my head back, I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, ignoring the couple of rebellious tears that escaped.

  “You lost?”

  “Feels like that sometimes,” I murmured to myself with a heavy sigh.

  The sharp voice from the darkness let out a deep, gravelly chuckle, immediately drawing my eyes to the shadows of the building. My heart rate increased, my mouth going dry as he stepped from the darkness into the small patch of light the single bulb outside the kitchen door created.

  How the hell I managed to keep my jaw from hitting the floor alongside my drink, I didn’t fucking know.

  The guys in this MC, they bred them different.

  Like gods.

  “I meant right now,” he clarified in amusement, leaning his shoulder against the wall and folding his arms across his chest. Like magnets, my eyes snapped to his biceps and the way they stretched against the crisp white shirt he had under his club colors, the ink that decorated the length of his left arm drawing me in like some kind of world-famous painting. It was a welcome temptation, my hands itching to reach out and examine every twist and turn of the beautiful piece of art, forgetting incredibly quickly about how badly they wanted to scratch at my skin.

  “You drunk or just emotional?” The sides of his head were shaved, a strip of long black hair running down the center, the loose, wispy strands falling across his eyes.

  I narrowed my eyes, meeting his menacing gaze. “I’m not looking to share my problems.”

  “And I’m not looking to hear them,” he quipped, shoving off the wall and tapping at the patch on his chest as he took a step toward me. “But this just so happens to be my clubhouse, and I like to k
now what the fuck is going on inside it.”

  Squinting a little, I struggled to read the tiny letters in the dull light.

  PRESIDENT.

  Of course.

  He was the club president.

  Jesus.

  I shouldn’t be surprised.

  The tiny smirk at the corner of his mouth was daring me to challenge him just so he had the chance to put me in my place.

  And boy, did I want him to put me in my place.

  The man demanded respect. It was in the way he carried himself, his shoulders square, his chin up, and with a mischievous sparkle in his eye that made me feel like maybe I should run. The only problem? Self-preservation wasn’t exactly my thing. So instead, I took a step forward. Maybe it was because I was feeling so weak, so out of control. Perhaps I was searching for just a taste of that energy and power that radiated off him in waves.

  Then maybe I could drown in something other than my own thoughts.

  “I can go back in,” I offered with a shrug, taking another step toward him.

  He matched it with one of his own. “Why are you crying?”

  “It’s my birthday.”

  “Birthday’s always make you cry?”

  “Only the ones my sister was killed on.”

  There it was.

  The words I’d usually refuse to say out loud.

  I choked out a laugh, a fresh swell of tears flooding my eyes. I let them fall. Let them streak through the light layer of makeup I’d put on today. It was a pathetic attempt to hide the dark circles under my eyes and keep anyone from realizing I was having nightmares.

  That I was seeing her face in my dreams.

  That I was barely sleeping.

  “I’m trying to numb the pain in my chest,” I admitted, forcing my body forward on shaky legs and feigning some sort of confidence as I stepped up in front of the president of a fucking motorcycle club, about to do something I’d never fucking done before. “So you can either help, or I can go and find someone else who will.”

  I was going to hell.

  Booking my one-way ticket right at this moment, and I didn’t even fucking care. I’d done more than my fair share of feeding my demons. Doing whatever I had to in order to endure the pain and make it through another day.

  That was what life was about, wasn’t it?

  Doing things to make your heart race just so you know it’s still beating.

  Sweeping my hair back from my face, I leaned in, leaving barely a breath between us and trying not to freak the hell out. My heart stopped, a soft gasp escaping when he reached up, his hand following the curve of my jaw and his fingers threading through my hair. He gave it a gentle tug, pulling my head back so I was looking up at him.

  Just how he wanted it, I bet.

  What the fuck are you doing, Avery?

  This man could hurt you.

  He could kill you.

  But maybe that was the best part.

  “If you’re looking for someone to sweet talk you, make you feel good, you’re looking in the wrong place,” he growled, slowly forcing me back, the glass from my smashed drink crunching underneath our shoes as he pressed me hard against the building, his lips hovering over mine, like he was waiting.

  “All I’m looking for is someone to fuck me into tomorrow so I can forget about today,” I threw back, my fingers reaching for the button on his jeans. I wanted him. Bad. In more ways than I even had words for. I needed someone strong enough to lift this fucking baggage off my shoulders, even if just for a damn second and let me breathe. And he was it. It emanated from him. Like this magnetic field I couldn’t help but be sucked into.

  “You think you can do that?” I murmured, my heart racing as a wave of adrenaline flooded my veins, lighting the fire that burns in the depths of my stomach. All I wanted to do was feel it, let it help me forget.

  Forget about my birthday.

  Forget about the hole in my heart.

  Forget about never being good enough.

  And most of all, forget that some bastard stole the one person who thought I was.

  “You think you can make me forget my own name?”

  The deep rumble of his laughter sent a tingle straight down my spine, my thighs subconsciously pressing together to try and ease the instant want.

  “You wanna forget your name?” he growled, tilting my head further back and exposing my neck.

  “Yes.”

  “How do you feel about screaming mine?”

  AVERY

  Almost a Year Later

  “All right, I’ll see you all next week!”

  The room quickly filled with chatter and the shuffling of papers as students scurried to pack their things away and get the hell out of the lecture hall.

  It was Friday, after all.

  There were frat parties to attend and drinking to be done. This was the life of a college student—study during the day, drink yourself in an alcohol-induced coma at night. That was always how I imagined my college experience would be, but it wasn’t exactly where I ended up.

  I pushed the door of the lecture theater open, shading my eyes from the striking sun as I stepped out into the flow of people. My skin soaked the warmth, a stark contrast to the cold, cave-like learning environments. I was certain they kept them just a touch above arctic, so it was impossible to fall asleep. Though, I had seen plenty of people take that as a challenge.

  “I really need to borrow your notes,” a perky voice announced as a hip bumped up against mine, almost throwing me off balance.

  I caught myself, snorting out a laugh, refusing to acknowledge my best friend as she fell into step beside me. “Maybe you should come to class,” I teased, rolling my eyes. “Then you’d have the notes, and you might actually learn something, too.”

  She let out a long, dramatic groan. “Technically, I’m still a little drunk,” she admitted without a drop of remorse or embarrassment. “I wouldn’t have understood or had the energy to write down a single damn thing that was said, and still would have had to borrow your notes anyway. I just decided to skip that middle part.”

  “The part where you actually attend a class?”

  “Exactly.”

  We fell into step with the flow of students moving toward one of the college’s many parking lots. It was almost like a heavy running river, people veered off at some places, others merged in, but you definitely didn’t want to get caught in it if you weren’t a good swimmer.

  These kids were in a hurry to get the hell out of here.

  They wanted to go home, shower, fill their stomachs, and then pregame.

  I, on the other hand, had to work at Empire and wouldn’t be going to bed until the place closed, so I was itching to get to the clubhouse in time to have a damn nap.

  Holly talked my ear off the entire way, waving her hands around dramatically, almost hitting several people in the face as she tried to explain the fiasco that went on at the rush party last night. Something about freshmen. Something about boobs. And there may have been a can of beans too. Whether those things were connected, I couldn’t tell you, but a tiny part of me was disappointed I hadn’t paid more attention.

  We stopped at the parking lot’s curb, and I leaned against a pole as I waited for my ride. I wasn’t sure whether Holly had actually driven here in the state she was in or if she was seriously not going to leave until I handed her that morning’s notes.

  “Did you not drive?” she asked, her brow knotting between her eyes.

  “No, Crush is putting new tires on my car, so Ty dropped me off,” I explained, instantly regretting it as her eyes lit up, and she stood a little taller. “You leave Ty alone. He already has enough crap to deal with at the clubhouse. He doesn’t need to be distracted every five minutes by you.”

  The two had messed around a few times. Though, I worried about him more than I worried about her.

  She gasped, pressing her hand to her chest in shock. “Are you calling me high maintenance?”

  “The high
est.”

  “I resent that.”

  “Resenting it doesn’t make it any less true,” I sang, as the roar of a motorcycle tickled at my ears. I hated leaving her there, but honestly, it was coming to a point where I had to keep reminding myself I wasn’t Holly’s mother. There was only so much leading to the water I could do, but if she wasn’t going to drink, I was simply wasting my time. “Can you get a ride?”

  “I’ll give you a ride.”

  Holly instantly pushed her shoulders back and her breasts out, making it look like they had suddenly inflated. I choked out a laugh, and she swung her hand back and smacked me in my stomach. When I saw the group of guys walking toward us, I knew it was a warning.

  Play nice in front of her frat boyfriends.

  Cooper Davids and company.

  The campus playboy and head douchebag of the frat that Holly’s sorority spent most of their time studying, partying, and fucking with. My nose crinkled, but I managed to catch myself before I rolled my eyes, and it really made my disdain evident.

  “Cooper, hey!” Holly greeted them with a skip in her step, her voice all high-pitched and perky.

  You could tell they liked it better that way. By the way their eyes were drawn to her, sweeping up and down her body. That squeaky tone these girls put on to try and make themselves seem more fun or feminine or whatever only made them seem less intelligent, like some kind of bimbo who was incapable of forming complete sentences.

  And yet, unintelligence soothed guys like these.

  Like a pacifier did babies.

  All I could think about was how insecure they must be that they needed people, especially girls, constantly stroking their ego, making them feel like they were in charge and bowing to their epic prowess.

  This was where Holly and I differed because unfortunately for them, that girl may have been her, but that girl was not me.

  “Hey, babe. You need a ride, too?” Cooper questioned. His eyes were on me with just enough of a smirk on his lips that the dimple in his cheek was popping just a little. Thankfully, Ty cruised around the corner and pulled his bike in behind me.