by Ryan Michele
I quit Schade’s place, but I still work at X, and I’m happy about it.
Bristyl, Cooper’s woman, helps dole out the food and keep it filled. I realized quickly she’s a kickass woman. Leah, her friend and Green’s woman, also came and helped.
Laughter catches my attention. It’s because it’s Deke’s. A deep, low rumble, but it’s there.
He’s here with his family, laughing. I can’t ask for anything more than that, besides waking up every morning in his arms.
We were lucky in the house department. I didn’t even fight him on the purchase. I just made sure the inside was nice and a home. A real home. That’s what I wanted out of this. A place that we could grow. A place that reminds me of a time when my parents were alive. And a place to give us both peace. We found it.
This room filled with people who love my man, who care about me, is what life’s about. My family left me because of a twisted woman. I’ll never have my mother and father back, and missing them will be a daily occurrence until my last breath. But being surrounded by the Ravage MC fills a part of me that’s been a void for so long.
Deke has given that to me. He has pulled me into his life through the ups and downs, continuing to stand by my side. He’s given me so much, and I’ll spend my life giving back to him.
27
Deke
One Week Later
Rylie’s tits bounce up and down as she rides my cock hard. I grip her hips, not needing to help her, yet unable to stop myself. She moans, grinding down on me, swiveling her hips and driving me to the brink of coming.
I flip her, taking control, pumping inside of her repeatedly as she claws at my shoulders. Then she explodes, wrapping so tightly around my cock, she milks me.
“Love you,” she says breathlessly.
Every damn time she tells me this is a fucking blessing. Hearing her, feeling her, touching, tasting her—everything about her is my miracle. Time with her, I will not waste it. Ever.
Looking over at the clock, I say, “Need to get to the clubhouse.”
“Thought you weren’t workin’ at the shop today?”
My job at Banner kicks ass. I’m back to workin’ on cars, trucks, and bikes, in my element. While I liked being behind a desk sometimes, it’s nice to be in the thick of things. My employment there went on and off the rails with everything that happened, but now, I’m there full-time, plus some. I wouldn’t change a damn thing.
“On clean-up duty.”
“Gross,” she groans.
She’s not wrong. Last night was a hell of a bash at the clubhouse, for no other reason than to celebrate. Prospecting for the Ravage MC has its ups and downs, and this is one of those downs, but it’s part of it all.
Being in the fold is an experience all its own. The way they have my back, give themselves freely, as I do the same—it’s beyond fantastic.
Each day, I gain more respect with the brothers. And each day, I wish I would’ve made different choices. But what’s done is done.
“Right. Sooner I get shit done, the faster I can get back in bed with you.”
“Okay,” she replies sleepily.
Drunk sex with Rylie is top notch. We’ll be replaying that many times to come.
“Bike,” Cruz orders as I come out of the now sparkling clean bathroom.
Fuck, I just brought the hose in and sprayed the walls down. It was beyond disgusting. But last night was a celebration, one that I wouldn’t have missed for the world.
“Why are we here?” I ask my father as we pull up to the lake, the one place on this fucking planet I never want to see again. I almost lost my woman here. Almost lost my entire life. I have no need to ever be here again.
The brothers walk to the banks, forming a line as they look out over the water.
My gut tightens, remembering the fear of not being able to get to my woman. Not being able to help her. Seeing her body lying on the ground, lifeless. All of it.
My heartbeat picks up as I take a couple of steps forward.
“They’re gone. Bottom of the lake, where they fuckin’ belong,” my father says.
Relief floods me at knowing the two assholes who tried to take my woman are no longer on this earth.
“Know you’ve got a lot of shit goin’ on. We get settled, big party at the clubhouse.”
That right there is love. It’s a type of love I thought I’d never have, yet they gave it to me.
“What’s goin’ on?” I ask.
Cruz just looks at me and lifts his chin to the door.
I move out of it and see the brothers all lined up. My father has a smile on his face.
“Today, we ride,” Cruz says, slapping his hand on my shoulder.
When I was a kid, this is all I thought about, and now it’s finally happening. Four years of hate and anger have turned into this moment. I’ll put in my time as a prospect, then I’ll wear the Ravage MC cut until the day I die.
I load up, head to the back of the line, and have the best fucking ride of my life.
Life is filled with decisions. Those decisions have consequences. The ones I made cost me years away from my family. It’s all time I can’t get back. Now, though, I live each day respecting each second I spend with them, knowing how it feels not to have it, and never wanting that again.
Finally getting in life what I desired for years—the cut, the club, family, and a rock-solid woman—there isn’t anything more a man could ask for.
* * *
Continue for a BONUS of Bound by Vengeance!
Bonus Austyn
Bound by Vengeance (Ravage MC Bound Series, Book Three)
* * *
Guilt.
Hate.
Anger.
Fear.
All these emotions are a dangerous concoction.
Too bad every single one of them runs through my veins, just waiting to break through.
I refuse to let him win.
I refuse to be the woman I’ve been for the past few months.
No more.
Revenge will be mine.
* * *
Bound by Vengeance Available Now HERE
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Excerpt of Power Chain by Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele
Power Chain Prequel
Written By
USA Today Bestselling Author
Chelsea Camaron
And
Ryan Michele
* * *
Copyright © 2018 Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.
This is a work of fiction. All character, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Editing by: Asli Fratarcangeli and Silla Webb
Cover Design by: Cassy Roop of Pink Ink Designs
Thank you for purchasing this book. This book and its contents are the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied, and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes.
This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. Content involves strong language, violence, and sexual situations. All parties portrayed in sexual situation are over the age of 18. All characters are a work of fiction.
This book is not meant to be an exact depiction of life as an outlaw in an underground world, but rather a work of fiction meant to entertain.
*** Warning: This book contains graphic situations that may be a
trigger for some readers. Please understand this is a work of fiction and not meant to offend or misrepresent any situations. There is quite a bit of violence, so if that’s not what you’re looking for, then please don’t read. ***
Power Chain
Four boys.
One game that changed everything.
A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.
None of these boys were weak. Go back to where it all began.
Welcome to the Power Chain, the underworld built on an unbreakable bond.
* * *
Authors Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele have teamed up again to bring an explosive new dark romance series.
Introduction
If this was the diary of broken boys, their road to Hell would take you on a dark and twisted one.
We lived our lives by a code with no loyalties and no fucks to give about anyone but ourselves and our business.
Welcome to the depths of power…
Onyx
Sometimes you just had to get lost…
* * *
It was unreasonably hot. Unfortunately for me, Rebecca was not. Reality was, none of the girls here were and I really couldn’t blame them or their genetics. Every girl here wore a calf-length solid color dress with an apron and a cape on the back. Never were they to be seen with their hair down; but rather, always pinned back and hidden under a kapp, which was a heart-shaped head covering worn under a bonnet. It was some tradition derived from the old testament of the Bible where a woman with her head uncovered was shameful.
Everything about life here felt wrong to me. All this covering up, speak only when spoken to, never question an adult, and so much more had me so curious as to what life was like away from the community.
As a fifteen-year-old rebellious boy, my mind constantly wondered what was under those ridiculous clothes. Try as he might, Amos couldn’t keep us sheltered but so much. Which was why I was in the hay loft of the barn with Rebecca, fully clothed beside me, with my hand covering her tit and her tongue down my throat. I had to be careful not to mess up her bonnet or touch her hair or skin. Clothing was a constant barrier between us as each day, for weeks now, she would find a way to sneak from her chores to the barn with me.
She moaned as she let me lay back on the hay, and I pulled her over me. Shifting her dress, I allowed her to line that liquid hot pussy of hers over my rock hard dick. Grinding on me, she worked us both up as her kisses become frantic.
Jerking my head away, I caught my breath as she kept working herself over me. Harshly, I stopped her so I could undo my brown cotton pants that she had already coated with her juices. As I untied the hidden drawstring to my broadfall trousers, I flipped the front flap back allowing for better contact. My dick jutted out as I reached out and swiped my hand over her cotton panties.
“No!” she said in a panic. “You can’t put anything in me. This is bad enough.”
“Baby, God made sex to feel good. These people tell us it’s bad so they can keep us chained to their work,” I explained as my dick was painfully waiting for release.
Knowing all girls loved to kiss, I leaned over and kissed her. Sucking on her bottom lip until I knew it would sting, I released it with a pop. “Something that feels this good can’t be that bad. Hell is bad; this shit is not bad.”
“Don’t take off my panties,” she whimpered before I shut her up with another kiss.
In a moment, she was back over my dick, grinding us both into a sticky mess. While I would gladly stick it in, I wasn’t the kind of guy to force it or push myself on her. All in due time she would give it up. After all, she was the one showing up every day for these little sessions in the barn.
This was the only reprieve we had, any of us kids here. Stolen moments in a barn, shed, or carriage where we could steal away little bits of time to get lost.
Minutes to forget we were unwanted.
Seconds to pretend we weren’t the unloved.
Memories made that weren’t clouded in misery.
Yes, Rebecca was part of the times I could let go and forget the damage already marking my soul.
Onyx
It all began with a game…
* * *
“Guess what I found today?” Garrett asked, rushing into our room, excitement bubbling off him. He was always the easier going one of us. Which, considering we were all assholes in our own right, that was saying something.
Paxton stood up, lifting his arms above his head and stretched. “Ummm, a needle in a hay stack,” he replied dryly. Sarcastic prick, that’s what we liked best about Pax.
Garrett shut the door behind him with a soft click before twisting his backpack around his body to the front and removing a worn and tattered old box. “Monopoly!”
I raised my eyebrows curiously, but didn’t dare speak. I had never heard of this Monopoly thing. Paxton rushed over to yank the busted ass box from Garrett just as Dane sat up in his bed.
“I haven’t seen a board game since I was six and still playing Shoots and Ladders with Lacie,” Paxton muttered as he dropped to the floor, his back pressed to his side of the bed.
Our room wasn’t large, but we made shit work. The door to enter had a wooden four-drawer dresser on each side. We each claimed two drawers and shared the small closet in the front corner of the room. On the far wall from the door, we had two small bookshelves filled with Bibles and acceptable Amish reads. Having two sets of twin-size bunk beds, we lined them on each side of the wall and made a path through them to the back area. It’s where we spent our free time, when we had it.
“Grams loved to play Monopoly because she said it took so long to finish, it was promised time together,” Garrett shared openly with a hint of longing in his voice.
It’s something that happened with him every time he thought of life before coming here. If I could remember the life I had before landing my ass in this Amish orphanage, then I might have found myself feeling and acting like him. Dane and I, though, we weren’t like Pax and Garrett; they knew life off the farm—could remember it, hold onto the memories. We could not.
Garrett had been here for two years. He had just turned twelve when he arrived. That’s twelve years of family, memories, and love to get him through the next four years until they set us out into the world. Not that Garrett had a spectacular life, but he had one outside of Lancaster, Pennsylvania.
Paxton went about setting up the board game as Dane made his way over to sit down and study it.
“How do we play this?” he asked, never one to be afraid to ask questions. Dane was all about the details in everything we had to do. He always said that details were knowledge and knowledge was power.
“Well, we’re missing some pieces, but we can make this work,” Paxton explained while organizing the paper bills as Garrett and I joined them on the floor, each of us taking a side of the board.
“I didn’t find any game pieces, so here is some paper and we can draw our icons,” Garrett proposed, handing out the white scratch paper and pencils.
As each of my friends worked on setting up parts of the game or drawing their icons, I wondered what other teenage boys were doing that weren’t living like us. Would they be playing a game like this? Would they be outside riding bikes? Those were all questions that wouldn’t get answered.
What I did know was if we got caught playing this game, there would be hell to pay. The people running the orphanage had little tolerance for rule breakers.
We were the defiant four, as Amos called us.
If there was a rule to break, we broke it. If there was a punishment to take, we took that shit too. It was all part of being here with nowhere else to go, but we didn’t care. Living to work wasn’t really living to any of us. The only excitement we had came with bending situations the way we wanted them.
“So the goal of the game is to have the most money at the end. You buy property so you can charge rent and build up your properties with houses and hotels for more rent,” Garrett explained while we
all listened avidly. “If you land on a fee, you gotta pay it. If you land on chance or community chest, you pick up a card and do what it says. We’re missing some cards, but we’ll make it work.”
Dane, Paxton, and I replied in unison, “We always do.”
It was our group motto, We’ll make it work, we always do. Relying on each other was all we had. These three were my brothers, and we made due with what little we had.
“These are the usual game pieces,” Garrett lifts the box, showing Dane and me the pictures of a dog, a horse, a cannon, and a ship. “I think we can just make whatever we want.”
I began sketching my choice of pieces as did my friends. Dane was the first to proudly place his paper on Go.
“A gun because I’ll always protect what’s mine,” he explained when we all looked down at the sketch of a handgun.
Dane loved to shoot when Amos would let him go hunting with him. While eating squirrel and rabbit was far from my favorite, the pride on Dane’s face in providing something for our fucked up make-shift family made me choke it down with a smile.
Paxton was next to lay down his paper. “A money bag because money is everything in this world.”
He wasn’t wrong. Even at a young age I knew money was the key to having anything and everything in this life. It was the root of all evil, yet the maker of living life easy. It all came down to money, something none of us had.
Garrett dropped his down. “My briefcase. Owning property means paperwork, and this boss man will be keeping my shit straight.”
Smirking because that sounded just like him, I added the last detail to my drawing before I placed it with pride in the square.
