by Erin Trejo
Declan
Soulless Bastards MC
NoCal
Declan
Soulless Bastards MC
NoCal
By Erin Trejo
Edited by: Elfwerks Editing
Cover by: Royal Anchors Designs
Cover photos: iStock
All rights reserved. Copyright 2018@erintrejo
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet without the permission of the author, which is a violation of the International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and imprisonment.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents and places are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real except where noted and authorized. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or actual events are entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Prologue
“Take the fuckin’ gun, boy!” my father roars in my ear. I stick my hand out and grab it. The heaviness is weighing my arm down.
“He took your momma away from you, boy. What are you gonna do about it?” my dad whispers. His overwhelming presence behind me is causing my hand to shake.
“You don’t have to do this! Not in front of my girls, Mack, please!” The sheriff cries from his place on his knees, glaring up at my dad. He sits in front of me, his eyes full of tears, two little girls hovering at his side.
“Did you stop when my boy cried for his momma? Did you stop when he yelled?” my dad roars at him. His body is vibrating with rage and anger.
Two years ago, the sheriff killed my mom. We were walking home from the store. She was wearing her cut, the one saying she was the property of Mack, Soulless Bastards MC. He knew who she was. He didn’t care. She wore that patch, and she was a target - that’s just the way it was back then. He pulled the trigger and killed her. At the young age of twelve, I held her bloody body as she laid there dying in my arms. It killed me inside. My childhood was stolen from me in that moment, forcing me to grow up in the matter of seconds. It forced me to look at myself and who I truly was.
“Come on, Mack! She was armed!” the prick cries.
“Armed? With what? A goddamn grocery bag!” he growls. “No, you knew she was mine. You hated it. Kill him, boy,” my dad says as he nudges me forward.
I raise the gun and hold it to his head. My heart stammers in my chest. I’ve been a prospect for a year now. Fifteen years old and I’m waiting to be just what my father is - the fucking king of it all. The choice was never really mine to begin with being born into this life.
I pull the trigger and watch as the asshole who killed my mother falls to his death. The funny thing is, I don’t feel bad about it. At least not in the moment. The little girls cry and scream, throwing themselves over his body. My dad and the guys all holler and cheer for what I’ve just done, what they put me in the position to do.
“We don’t have no one else!” The older of the two looks up at me.
I kneel down in front of her and ask, “How old are you?”
She wipes her eyes on her sleeve. “Seven.”
I blow out a breath and pull the rosary over my head. I look down at it, letting the ghosts of my past go. I pass it to her, squeezing it into her hand.
“This will protect you,” I tell her softly.
She looks down at it before bringing her eyes back to mine. “What will keep you safe now?”
“I don’t need it. I’ll be okay.” I shove off the ground and walk back over to my dad and the guys.
When I turn and look over my shoulder, her eyes are still on me. I wink at her before walking back to the clubhouse like nothing happened. Like I didn’t just kill a man in cold blood in front of his kids.
My chest feels heavy. Her little eyes will forever be burned into my memory.
DECLAN
SOULLESS BASTARDS MC
NoCal
Chapter 1
Brooke
“Fuck off, Ryan!” I yell as our bouncer annoys the hell out of me. I swear to God if that man doesn’t leave me alone, I will fire his ass. After I kill him. He’s obnoxious.
“You fucking love me, Brooke!” he yells as he walks the other way. Love? Yeah, I don’t think so.
“You know he only does it to get you hot,” Angel, my sister, says.
I shake my head before smiling at her. “No, he wants to see if I kick his ass.” I walk toward the office, letting out a sigh as I leave her behind in the hallway.
I have way too much to get done and not enough time to do it. I don’t know why I agreed to help my uncle with his damn strip club, of all things. I’m not a stripper, and I’d probably prove to be a better bouncer than I would working in this goddamn office. Yet, here I am doing the family thing. I guess a part of me feels that I owe my uncle for taking care of me and my sister when we were younger.
“Brooke!” I hear her voice and shake my head. It’s too early in the day to deal with Ashley. I just can’t do it. The door flies open and in walks the girl who has been my best friend since I was three. Ashley is almost as close to me as my own sister.
“My house. Tonight. Ellen and her girls are coming. It’s a sleepover sort of thing.” I close my eyes before banging my head on my desk. Literally. Yes, she drives me that insane.
“Stop that!” she yells.
“I love you, Ash, but I’m not coming. Ellen is the most self-centered bitch I’ve ever met,” I say, pulling my head back up.
“She is, but she also brings alcohol. You are coming. You live across the street, Brooke! You don’t want her at your house, do you? I’ll bring her over. You know I will.” She crosses her arms and flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
“We’re twenty-two years old, Ash. We are too old for sleepovers,” I remind her. She doesn’t care. She’s a kid at heart, and I’m pretty sure she always will be. That’s one of the things I like about her - she keeps me grounded.
“Whatever. Don’t come and see if I don’t s
it on your damn doorstep with her,” she says before turning and leaving the room. Why is she my best friend? Oh, yeah. She’s always there when I need her, and I love the bitch.
I pull out all the paperwork I have to get through today and get started when I hear my uncle.
“Let me catch you snorting one more thing and see if I don’t fire your ass!” my uncle yells over his shoulder as he walks in, his gaze haunted. He always looks that way these days. The club is getting the best of him, and I can’t say that I don’t understand. It’s a mess.
“You look tired,” I say before getting back to the paperwork at hand.
“Tired? Dead is more like it. Half the fucking girls here are using. We need new talent. We need more money. Shit, Brooke.” He drops into the chair in front of me before I sigh and look up. He’s defeated, and I know how that feels.
“I’m trying to figure out the money part. We can cut some of the budget with cheaper beer. As far as the girls, I don’t know what to do there. I can’t stand half of them.” He nods his head, knowing that it’s true. I think most of them are skanks, and they don’t follow the fucking rules. If they’d stop fucking half the clients for free and dance for their money, we wouldn’t have this problem.
“I’m glad you’re here, Brooke. I really am. There’s no way in hell that I’d want to ask my brother Darren for any help with this place. That would for sure be the end of the club,” my Uncle Devon says.
I nod once. I’m sort of glad I’m here. I missed being around family. I liked my life the way it was, but I didn’t have any goals for myself. I was basically living day to day off my savings. I did work at one point for a local photographer. That didn’t last long though.
“Me too, Uncle D.”
“Drinks tonight?” he asks, standing from his chair.
“No, I’m stuck with Ashley and her hoard of uptight bitches.” He laughs before leaving the room. Too bad I’m not that excited. I drag out my trusty pen and start going over all the shit paperwork, hoping I can figure out a way to get my uncle’s club back in the green. He’s let the club fall so far into the red it’s nearly a lost cause; I don’t know if I will be able to pull him out.
“What the hell am I doing here?” I grumble as my eyes begin to cross.
Chapter 2
Declan
I feel like my eyes are about to burst out of my head. I’m not an office man; I’m a goddamn biker. If there was anyone less qualified to be looking over this shit, it’s me. We run guns and drugs. You may think that doesn’t involve a lot of math and shit, but you’d be surprised. I’m just not the one to work those numbers.
“Blu, why the fuck you got me over here lookin’ at this shit?” I finally give up and ask. It’s way out of my fucking league. I don’t do numbers unless I’m counting how many girls I’m taking to bed.
“‘Cause I know that motherfucker was skimmin’ money off the top. I just want a second pair of eyes on it before I blow his goddamn head off.” Blu blows out a puff of smoke, making me laugh. He’s been ready to kill Chop for a while now. This just gives him the justification he needs to do it.
I glance back down at the pile of papers in front of me before I raise my eyebrows and say, “Well, I think you have enough evidence to blow his head off. Whoever you vote in here has a shit ton of work to catch up on. Don’t look like he did shit for the last six months but take the club’s money.” I lean back in the chair and sigh as Blu paces the room. He’s on edge, and I can’t blame him.
“I suppose I should thank fuck we’re partyin’ tonight. If we can fuckin’ afford it!”
I let out a chuckle. Blu has been so amped up for the last few days since learning about what Chop was up to. I haven’t seen him this fucking fidgety in years.
“We got this handled, Uncle Blu.” He looks over, his dark gray eyes mimicking mine. “Yeah, I know. It’s just hard when it’s a fuckin’ brother, ya know?”
I nod my head. I do agree there. There’s nothing worse than when one of your brothers does shit that is unacceptable to the club. Stealing from us? That’s a death sentence, and we all know it. There are times that you sit and think that maybe they had good reason to do what they did, but in the end, all they had to do was ask. We’re all family here.
“I hear you. Let’s just get this party over with and then we’ll handle Chop. You got Griz comin’ in for that shit?” I ask, grabbing a cigarette of my own. I light it up as I take in my uncle. He took over this club years ago when my father was killed. He got into a war with another club outside of our territory. No one ever figured out what the hell he was doing over there to begin with. It wasn’t club business, that much we know. We always knew my uncle would be president. I’m ok in my VP spot. One day this shit will be mine, though. I know Blu likes to think one of his boys will take over, but Mayhem is so far out of his head, no one would vote that motherfucker in. His other son Tic’s happy being a soldier. He doesn’t want to take the reins. He doesn’t want the extra stress that comes with being in charge.
“Yeah, he’ll be in next weekend if shit pans out. I just don’t know that I can keep my shit together until then,” he says.
I chuckle, knowing just how fucking hard that is. When you know you have a thief in the club, you want to handle it.
“Let’s go get this shit set up. I gotta run up to the store for a few things,” I say, shoving myself out of the chair. Blu nods his head and follows me out into the main room.
This clubhouse is old - it’s been here for years. I come from a long line of Soulless Bastards. My dad, uncle, and grandpa before them were part of the club. Hell, the Bastards date back into the sixties. The clubhouse has stood through it all. Just like it was made to do.
“Yo! Dec! Check this shit out,” Mayhem yells as I leave the office. I watch the crazy son of a bitch as he lights up the four joints hanging between his lips.
“What the fuck are you doin’?” I ask with my hands planted on my hips. He has clearly lost his shit today.
“Gettin’ ready to party. You want some?” he asks. I shake my head and walk out the side door to see what all the girls have set up.
“You need help out here?” I ask Prim, knowing the only help she’s in need of is a dick between her thighs. That girl is downright hateful. She’s a club whore who has been around since she was born. She’s more of a sister to most of us, though.
“Do I look like I need help? Go ask Cherry. You know she can’t do shit for herself.” She flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder before arranging the napkins on the table. I swear to God that girl needs one good fuck. Maybe that would make her less of a bitch. Who the hell knows, might make her worse. I don’t know what she’s doing with those damn prospects when she clearly needs a real man. But that’s not my problem.
“Cherry Bear. You need help?” I ask over her shoulder when I walk up behind her. Her blue eyes come to meet mine, a smile curling her lips. I turn and bend over to grab the box off the ground and set it on the table when I hear her moan.
“You checkin’ out my ass?” I ask her with a grin on my face.
“It is a nice ass,” she says.
“You might be grabbin’ onto it later.” I swat her on the ass before helping her pull the rest of the napkins and plates from the box.
God, I love being VP. I love being a Soulless Bastard.
Chapter 3
Brooke
“Ok! Everyone shut up!” Ash yells at the rest of the girls. I feel like a fucking idiot. I feel like we are having some sort of fucked up high school flashback. The only difference is I didn’t have this many friends in high school; I only had Ash and my sister. Sad truth.
“Ok. Truth or dare?” Ashley says, looking at Ellen. I roll my eyes knowing she will take truth. The uptight princess claims to do no wrong. Why am I here again?
“Truth,” she says, her squeaky little voice grating on my last nerve. I pull my phone out and check my messages. Oh look, there are none! Big fucking surprise.
“Did you really suck Jimmy off in the bathroom at your work?” Ashley asks leaning forward. Ashley’s had a crush on this Jimmy idiot since we were in high school, although no one knows it but me.
“Eww, no!” Ellen squeals. “He has a thing for one of the girls in editing. She’s a total slut. She has screwed almost everyone in the building. I think that’s how she got the editing job anyway. She probably screwed the boss.” Ellen continues to ramble on as I let my mind drift off.
I have to figure out a way to get the club back on track. My uncle’s life revolves around that club. He put every cent he ever made back into it, I’d hate to see him lose it now.
“Excuse me. Hello!” Ashley says as she waves her hand in my face. “It’s your turn. Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” I say, watching the smile curl her lips.
“There’s a biker club down the street. I dare you to go over there and get a beer from one of them.” The other girls all gasp and clap their hands like a bunch of damn fools. I roll my eyes, grab my chucks, and zip up my sweatshirt.
“Can I put on my jeans or do I go like this?” I ask, pointing down to my little booty shorts I wore as pajamas.
“No, you can go like that.” Ashley giggles. She’s such a bitch. And I love her.
“Don’t do that. They are bad people.” Ellen covers her mouth before Ashley says, “It’s ok. Brooke knows self-defense.” I roll my eyes. Self-defense? That’s putting it lightly. I head toward the door when they all press their faces to the window to watch me.
The air is cooler tonight, and I can hear the music blasting from the clubhouse. We all know it’s there. It’s been there for years. The neighborhood doesn’t complain about it partially because they are afraid of them. I’m not. Never have been, but then again, I’ve never been down near their clubhouse either. At the end of the block is when I see it come into view. It’s out of place in the middle of this little neighborhood, but from the stories I’ve been told, it’s been here since the sixties. I see a guy that looks to be in his twenties standing by the gate, a cigarette hanging from his lips and a beer in his hand.
