Sons of War MC

by Jane Slate

  Sons of War MC (Motorcycle Club Romance)

  Copyright © 2014 Jane Slate

  Jane.Slate.Author@gmail.com

  All rights reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone dead or alive is merely coincidental.

  This is a standalone novel which contains adult themes, explicit language and sexual situations.

  Reader Discretion is advised!

  Table of Contents

  Part One

  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

  Part Two

  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

  Epiligoue

  About The Author

  Acknowledgements

  I dedicate this book to my voice of reason, best friend, confidant, pseudo-mother and older sister Angie. What would I do if I didn’t have you? x

  PART ONE

  "War does not determine who is right.

  Only who is left." -Bertrand Russell

  Prologue

  The SOW Clubhouse was packed from wall to wall with patches and their ever loyal old ladies, prospects, scantily dressed bike warmers and a few uncomfortable looking citizens. A group of overly tan strippers provided the entertainment.

  Outside, rib-eye steaks were cooking on the barbecue as hard rock blared from two large speakers. Attractive tattoo covered people swarmed and chugged back beers as the scent of marijuana filled the air, mixing with tobacco.

  Life was good.

  Tonight was the night that Isiah Landon Everett was to be inducted into the Sons. He had finally turned eighteen and was old enough to earn a patch in the club ran by his father and his brothers.

  The party was in full swing.

  When night fell, everyone gathered around a fire outside in commemoration of Noel’s big day. A crowd of well-wishers surrounded him as he was handed his cut by Nash, President of the Sons. He tried it on for size and looked over at his father.

  Landon smiled at his son and sat down on his bike, pulling his wife into his lap and pressing a wet kiss against her cheek. He lit a cigar and blew a ring of smoke from his nostrils.

  Damn.

  It had been a long time coming…

  Twenty Years Prior

  Addictions are a hard thing to break.

  You tell yourself that you need to hold on. To believe you're not slipping. But in the middle of every belief is a lie. Because the thing is, the needing means you’re slipping.

  Slipping into a pit from which there is no escape.

  A person can be addicted to a lot of things. Sex, drugs, love. Whatever it is you hold onto to get by. To believe you’re not slipping. The problem is, in the center of every belief there’s a lie.

  Relying on something to survive is slipping. Into a nothingness that’s impossible to crawl out of. It’s all the same. A temporary high followed by a crash. And when you crash, it’s the memory of the high that you hold onto.

  The longing for another release.

  For those brief few moments you have no commitments. No obligations. Not to anyone. You find salvation in your high and that will work for a little while.

  Until you crash.

  And you always Crash.

  You won’t expect it but it will happen. One moment you’re riding in the wind, completely engulfed by the experience. And the next, you’ve fallen face first into a dark place and just like that it’s over.

  It was never a concept he understood until he climbed into bed with her.

  First love had a way of dying hard.

  “Oh god,” Landon groaned as his sweat covered body gyrated against hers. “I think I love you.”

  He had heard of animalistic tendencies and what they could do to a man but he had never experienced it firsthand. Not until her. What they had was graphic and ritualistic.

  A bond built by lust.

  It was a dance of survival, not procreation or as much as it pained both of them to admit, love. She wasn’t naïve. She knew he didn’t really love her. He loved what they had together.

  Now, he was close. His big finish was rapidly approaching and when it was over they would leave each other.

  They always did.

  But when she was with him, her flawless Military wife image came crashing down around her. And when he was with her, he felt like more than just a wounded Soldier. She made him do and say things he never thought he would and he made her lose herself in the idea that maybe they could one day be something more.

  He never showed his feelings for her with his words. Not usually. It was in his body and the way he would touch her; taking his time as though she was porcelain and would break beneath him at any moment.

  Light leaked inside the room, casting a shadow on their naked forms.

  Grace lifted her legs around Landon’s body and shivered. He was pulsating inside of her and the sensation sent her flying. He held her naked form against his own and rubbed his fingers along the ridges of her erect nipples. She panted, letting go of the last of her inhibitions.

  “Miller is crazy,” Landon groaned, shaking his head. “If you were my old lady I’d touch you like this every chance I got.”

  Grace could feel a release building inside of her. It was a sensation she had come to live for. She spread her legs wider and wrapped them around his lanky hips as he continued thrusting. A deep moan escaped her throat as she came.

  “Wow,” she breathed, collapsing on the mattress beside him.

  She traced a finger along the scars on his chest. Battle wounds that had only really healed on the surface.

  “That was amazing.”

  They were both intoxicated. It wasn’t unusual. They couldn’t do what they were doing sober. When they were, all they did was fight. Grace had enough of that with her husband.

  Landon had a past and so did she.

  He was a bitter war Veteran turned biker and she was the lonely wife of one of the men he had served alongside. What they were doing was wrong. Technically.

  The wedding ring on her finger reminded them both of that. But they were in too far to turn back now. She brought a clammy hand down to his crotch and ran the other through her matted hair, sucking in a deep breath.

  “I wish we could stay like this,” she whispered.

  Her breath was warm against his flesh.

  “I wish things would have ended up differently.”

  Landon didn’t say anything.

  He never did.

  He turned to look at her, his dark eyes burning against her much lighter ones.

  “Do you think we’ll ever be more than this?” she questioned.

  Disappointment was heavy in her voice. Landon started to shake his head, but honesty wasn’t what she was looking for.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  He stood to his feet and entered her tiny bathroom, pulling the condom from his member and tossing it in the toilet. He turned on the faucet and took a good long look at himself in the mirror as he splashed water on his face.

  His reflection was harrowing. His eyes illustrated the bitterness he felt inside. He reached in the pocket of his leather cut and lit a joint. Grace shook her h
ead when he offered it to her. He inhaled deeply, contemplating her words.

  “I have to go,” he said as he began to gather his clothing, pulling it on. His cock flopped into plain view as he pulled on his briefs and ratty jeans.

  “Miller could be back at any moment.”

  Miller. Grace’s husband and the father of her children. The Soldier whose life Landon had saved in Pakistan. Treasurer of the Sons of War Motorcycle Club and a man Landon had come to know as a brother.

  “Fine,” Grace said with a sigh. “You’re right.”

  This part was never easy.

  She rubbed her eyes and pulled on her silk robe as she stood to her feet. She was beautiful, with long red hair that ended just above her waist. The world had a way of spinning around her. In high school, Landon had overlooked her for girls he didn’t need to better himself for.

  Girls whose names he didn’t have the decency to remember.

  There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t regret it. Her wedding ring was a bitter reminder of everything that could have been his.

  “Life’s a bitch, Landon,” she told him shortly before they lost contact with each other. He was eighteen and she was barely sixteen. She turned to look at him and that was the moment, five days before he would leave for basic training, that he’d realize she was beautiful.

  Inside and out.

  Landon didn’t have female friends. It wasn’t a conscious decision. He just didn’t.

  She was his first.

  Grace stood up then, holding her cigarette a few inches from her mouth as she bounced off of the swings they were sitting on.

  “Where are you off to?” he called after her.

  She turned around to look at him as a slight smile fluttered over her lips.

  “I have a date,” she yelled over her shoulder.

  He sighed and watched as the wind blew her curly hair around her face.

  His chance with her had come and gone.

  The next morning, they were at the park again. She leaned against the bark of a tree with low-hanging branches and stared straight at him. She was asking him to stay. Her feelings for him had always been painfully transparent but Landon was a blind man walking.

  “I wish I could go with you,” she admitted.

  Landon cocked his head and lit a smoke, running a hand over his freshly shaved head.

  “You don’t want to go where I’m going,” he said, exhaling a deep breath. “It’s hardly the place for a woman.”

  Grace scoffed.

  “I’ll have you know I’m more than just a woman,” she replied, nudging him playfully on the shoulder.

  She wasn’t lying.

  “I just...I have to get out of Falls Creek.”

  Her voice sounded far away and distant. Landon wanted to ask her how her date went, but instead, they climbed into his father’s bright red pick-up and drove around the small town in a circle. Every now and then, he would chance a glance at her out of the corner of his eye and he would catch her staring back.

  Their chemistry was palpable but neither one of them commented on it. They parked beside the lake and kicked off their shoes as they stood near the edge. They stood near the truck and chain smoked cigarettes, exhaling as a calm fell over them. They drank beers under the stars and talked for hours, reflecting on all the things they had said done as kids.

  And when it came time for them to leave each other, neither one of them wanted to.

  “I’m going to miss you,” Grace admitted, looking over at Landon as she sipped her beer.

  They were sitting by the lake with their legs stretched out in front of them. The sun had long since set but they could still see their reflections shining back at them in the water.

  “I’m going to miss you too,” Landon replied hollowly, turning to face her. They stared at each other for a few moments before she looked away.

  “Try not to die over there,” she added jokingly, but Landon could tell she wasn’t kidding.

  He promised her that he wouldn’t. She sloshed the last of her beer around in the bottle before downing it. There was something in her eyes that he recognized as sadness.

  He didn’t comment on it but in retrospect, he wished he would have.

  All Grace ever wanted to do was leave Falls Creek. She had been living in her older sister, Angie’s, shadow her entire life. Leaving was the only viable solution she could think of. And now, the boy she had come to love, who was now more of a man, was doing what she couldn’t.

  A salty wind came in from the lake and Grace shivered. Landon removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, swallowing the last of his beer.

  “When I come back, I want to take you out,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Grace smiled at him but it was a sad smile. Her mother always told her that she was like an open book. That she wore her feelings right on her sleeve, but she couldn’t help it. Her entire life she had admired girls like Angie. The kind who were able to hide their emotions without even trying. The kind who carried a seductive air of mystery with them wherever they went.

  Instead, Grace was more like her mother. Perfectly complacent and incapable of keeping any secret for long. Both she and Landon knew that their story would soon end long before it ever began.

  A lot could happen in four years.

  “Alright,” she said anyway, holding out her hand to him. She nodded, her glassy eyes widening as they lit up. He could see the hope in them as clear as day.

  “It’s a date.”

  He watched a blush spread over her cheekbones and smiled to himself. The corners of her mouth pulled pack and a grin crawled over her face.

  She could barely breathe as he stared at her. He noticed and spoke up, abandoning his inhibitions with every word that left his mouth.

  “Why are you sitting so far away?” he asked her, his voice deep and enticing.

  Her heart stopped as a heat traveled over her. It was something she had only ever heard him say in her dreams.

  This certainly felt like one.

  Silently, Grace slid closer to Landon on the hood of the truck. He wrapped his muscular arms around her shoulders and smiled. She had never been the shy type, but he had a way of bringing out the most dormant of emotions in her.

  With all the courage she could muster, she lifted her head to look at him and without a word, he pressed his lips to hers.

  The world melted away around them.

  Before Grace could contemplate what was happening, she was halfway undressed and pressed beneath Landon in the back hatchet of the truck. He stared down at her, his dark eyes silently asking for her approval. She nodded up at him as a wave of nervousness flooded through her.

  She didn’t have it in her to tell him it was her first time. She loved the feeling of his palms as they traveled over her body, pulling her closer against his. His breath was hot against her neck. A shiver crawled its way down her spine.

  He moved quickly as he ravished her, not wasting any time. It was, after all, of the essence. She moaned as he broke through the tight barrier of her hymen with a deep groan, picking up rhythm as she tensed then relaxed beneath him.

  Grace knew that there was no chance of a relationship blooming between them. That soon he would be gone, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  She was lost in her desires.

  Overcome by teenage lust.

  When it was finally over, they pulled on their clothing in a comfortable silence. She wanted to ask him what he was feeling, but she didn’t want to tarnish the experience with idle conversation.

  Landon drove her home as a mesh of fireflies and stars blurred around them. Four days later, he left for North Carolina. Two weeks after that, Grace began dating Miller.

  The man who she would later marry.

  “The kids will be up for school soon,” Grace said, keeping her voice low as she tore Landon from his thoughts.

  “Don’t let them see you. I don’t know how I’d explain you being here to them.”
>
  Landon nodded. He knew the routine well enough by now. He left the house and tossed his joint onto the concrete, crushing it with the heel of his boot.

  Grace was no longer the girl he knew growing up.

  She had become a trapped bird. Capable of flying but too afraid to do so. Landon knew Grace didn’t love Miller, but they had a family together and Grace’s obligations were etched in stone as much as his were.

  Their time had come and went.

  Chapter One

  The sun shined its smoldering rays down against the desert, bathing their tents with a golden light. A nervous energy filled the air. It wasn’t a comforting emotion. At least not in their current setting. The environment was hot and dismal. The sand had become a part of them, mixing with their sweat and blood. Mountains lingered miles in the distance, teasing them with an unreachable source of water.

  They would die before they made it there.

  Seven days.

  That’s how long it had been since the first explosion. Since they had radioed for help. They waited for a hero. A catalyst. Someone brave and unflinching to help drive them forward, but with every day that passed, hope dimmed. Landon took a sip from his canteen and sighed as the warm drop of water dissolved into his tongue. There wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t feel brittle.

  Landon was a changed man. It wasn’t instantly visible. At least not on the outside, but those who knew him the best could see it. He had lost his enthusiasm for being a Soldier. The spark in him had dimmed. He was quiet and collected. No longer quick to speak his thoughts.

  He had barely escaped the raid with his life. They all had. But too many others hadn’t been so lucky.