Sabian_A Gritty Bad Boy MC Romance

by Ali Parker

  We pulled up in front of the dilapidated, single-story house around the time families would be tucking children into their beds. The front porch was bare of furniture but full of discarded beer cans. The lawn was mostly dirt with patches of brown grass. The house itself used to be yellow but had turned brown with moss and mold and years of disregard.

  This was a Black Hearts clubhouse.

  I parked the car across the street and tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “How many of those fuckers do you think are in there?”

  “Hopefully, enough to make it a party,” Johnny grated beside me.

  I felt my cheeks stretch into a grin I couldn’t control. “You ready, bitch?”

  “Of course, I am,” Johnny Moretti said.

  We both got out of the car and walked to the trunk. I popped it open, reached inside, and tossed a baseball bat to Johnny. His knuckles turned white as he gripped it tightly in his right hand. I grabbed one for myself and then reached for two black ski masks. I left the trunk open—we wouldn’t be gone long. Then, we marched across the street while pulling the masks down over our faces. Subtlety was for bitches.

  We crossed the front yard, hopped up the four steps to the porch, and then exchanged a look. Johnny and I had been doing this shit for ages. He and I worked well together. Each of us always knew where the other would be, and when we lost complete control and gave into the rage, we could count on one another to reel it back in.

  We were brothers.

  I let out a furious shout and kicked the door in.

  Johnny rushed in ahead of me with the baseball bat high over his shoulder. He was knocking shit off tables before I even made it inside.

  The first room was the living room. It smelled of tobacco, booze, and weed, and there were white lines of powder on a piece of plywood resting across two milk crates—a classy coffee table. The couches were dark brown from years of use, and they hosted three men who were fucked out of their minds.

  They were so out of it, they hadn’t even gotten to their feet by the time I made it into the house behind Johnny.

  When they realized what was happening, they all let out furious yells and charged us.

  Fighting men who were drunk and high was never a good time. They never felt a thing when you hit them, so you had to make sure you hit them hard enough to knock them out or at least knock them down.

  Which was never usually a problem for Johnny and me.

  The biggest man in the room went for Johnny. I resisted the urge to help my friend and trusted he could handle himself as another one of the Black Hearts launched himself over the back of the sofa and charged me.

  The man was tall, taller than me by a good couple inches, and I wasn’t considered short at my height of six foot three. He was bellowing with rage and screaming a stream of profanities at me as he dropped his head to come in low and take out my center of gravity.

  It would have been a smart move if I didn’t have a baseball bat.

  I slammed my weapon over his back, and the man fell in a heap at my feet. He groaned in agony and writhed around as I stepped over him, ignoring his fingers as he grabbed at my pant legs.

  I was moving in on guy number two, who was trying to get to Johnny as my friend used his elbows and fists on the guy in front of him. Johnny had always preferred to feel the toll of a fight with his own body. The baseball bat would be used only if completely necessary.

  I, however, saw it for what it was, a tool to inflict more pain than my body could.

  My baseball bat swung into the side of the third man’s knee. He howled in pain and dropped to all fours. I used my knee to his jaw to knock him out cold.

  At the same time, Johnny took down his man with a furious blow to the side of the head with his fist. Johnny turned back to me, shaking out his hand, and looked at the two I had brought down.

  The one still conscious was still rolling around on his back while spitting curses at us.

  “You fucking goofs,” he slurred, high as a kite. “You don’t know what you’ve just gone and did. We’re Black Hearts, you fucks. Black Hearts!” His voice rose in pitch as he screamed those last words at us.

  I dropped to a crouch in front of him and extended the baseball bat out to rest it under his chin. I forced his head up so that he was looking down the length of the bat and into my eyes. “We know exactly who you are, you piece of shit.”

  The man swallowed, and the bat rolled against his Adam’s apple. I grabbed the edge of my mask under my jaw and pulled it off. The Black Hearts member’s eyes widened.

  “You tell your boss that Axel Cooper is coming for him.”

  The man nodded furiously.

  Johnny shifted behind me. “He doesn’t get off that easy, Coop.”

  I grinned. “You bet your ass he doesn’t.”

  The man tried to shuffle backward. Fear passed over his face as I got to my feet and wound back with the bat. Anger roiled in my gut, and Johnny egged me on. These bastards had burned down my shop. My home. My livelihood.

  Time to send a message of our own.

  Get the rest of the book HERE!

  Jax

  Lost Breed MC book 3

  Chapter 1

  Jax

  New York summer weather was ideal for taking to the road on my Harley. When I was going fast enough, which was any time I wasn’t stuck in traffic or behind a station wagon hovering half a mile under the speed limit, the breeze against my bare arms and face was almost cool enough to be considered refreshing. Air conditioning was overrated and no comparison to the open road on the seat of a Harley, engine purring between your legs, throttle itching to be opened up on every straightaway.

  Of course, the way I rode earned me a few speeding tickets and some warnings from the police. I was almost on a first-name basis with some of them.

  I liked the adrenaline rush of being on my bike, but I also liked the time to clear my head. Being part of an MC was a fast-paced lifestyle, and I was still acclimating to the intensity of it all.

  Just weeks ago, my buddy Axel almost landed himself behind bars going after the leader of our rival gang, the Black Hearts. Watson, a true and total sociopath, had nearly brought all of us down with him. If it hadn’t been for Axel risking his neck, I hated to think where we would all be.

  Axel had the most to lose too. He’d just started seeing Ellie when it all went down, the girl he’d fantasized about for half a fucking decade. Then, out of the blue, he learned he had a three-year-old daughter.

  I took a right at a red light, the tires squealing as I accelerated. I smirked as the car behind me honked. The asshat hadn’t even had to tap his brakes. People were so damn sensitive these days. I looked over my shoulder, gave the guy behind the wheel of the silver sedan a wide grin, and opened the throttle, leaving him and his mom-car behind until they were nothing but a tiny speck in my mirrors.

  I didn’t envy the car, that was for sure, but I found myself wondering if he had a wife and kids at home like Axel did. It must be nice to return to a place with a bright smile there to greet you. That and a warm body to share a bed with.

  Something unsettling coursed through my body, and when I realized it was jealousy, I shook my head in shame.

  “Pull yourself together, you pussy,” I muttered, the wind drying my teeth.

  The roar of the engine calmed to a steady rumble as I pulled off the road and rode up to the open bay doors of the new shop. I killed the ignition and swung off the bike as Ellie, the beautiful blond mechanic who was now engaged to Axel, spotted me and waved.

  “Morning,” she called cheerfully as I approached, wiping her hands on a rag and then tucking it into the back pocket of her jeans. She put her hands on her hips, like she always did, and cocked her head to one side. “You eat yet?”

  I shook my head. “What do you think?”

  She rolled her eyes at me and waved for me to follow her. I tailed her around the hood of the old Impala she was working on, and we ducked into the office along the side of the
shop.

  Jamie, my cousin, looked up from her computer and smiled at me. “Hey, cuz.” Her eyes returned to the computer screen, but she maintained the conversation. “How’s it going?”

  “As good as Mondays go.”

  Ellie stepped behind the desk, pulled a coffee from a drink tray, and handed it to me. Ellie was good like that. For as long as I could remember, she had always made sure to have a coffee for me when she came to work. Sometimes, she even picked up breakfast.

  My heart swooned over her when she tossed me a small paper bag sealed with a green sticker. “And your bagel. Don’t say I never do anything for you.” Ellie folded her arms and rested her hip on the desk.

  “I’d never say something so untrue.” I grinned as I opened the bag. I was greeted by the smell of herbs and butter and cheese, and I impulsively licked my lips. “You’re the best, Ellie.”

  “I know I am. But,” she shot me a cocky smile before turning and making for the door, “I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

  “So modest.” I chuckled as the door closed and turned back to Jamie, who was still scowling at the computer screen as I rested my forearms on the counter and sipped my coffee. “You trying to ignore me, or are you actually busy?”

  “It’s Monday morning. What do you think?”

  I scratched my chin to feign thoughtfulness. “Maybe a little bit of both?”

  Jamie rewarded me with a quick glance up from her computer. “You’re smarter than you look.” She let out a long sigh. “We have a lot of work coming in the next couple of weeks, and at the rate we’re going, there’ll be some unhappy customers banging on our door.”

  “How far behind schedule are we?”

  “At least a week.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “I don’t know how you guys are going to make up for extra time. Axel’s still only on part-time hours, and I’m not going to be the one to ask him to come back. We all know how happy he is to be spending time with Hanna.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t look at me. I’m not asking him. He’d have my head faster than I could blink.”

  “Then we need a different solution. Think one of the other guys might be willing to step in for a little bit? Just a couple of weeks, three at most. At least until we’re caught up. I’ve already had to turn a couple of guys away. It’s not good for business.”

  I took a big gulp of coffee and flinched as it burned my throat. “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.” I turned away from her and opened the door to the shop. “Hey, cuz? You’re doing great, you know. You’re a good fit for this job.”

  Jamie beamed at me. “Thanks.”

  I put my coffee down and joined Ellie at the hood of the Impala. She was currently bent over with her upper half buried in the open space where the engine used to be.

  “So,” I said, startling her, “how’s engaged life?”

  Ellie scowled as she straightened up, emerging from under the hood like a mechanical goddess of sorts. I would never say so to Axel, but his woman was something else, and watching her around cars was torture for any man.

  She tightened her ponytail before answering me. “It’s good. Really good. Neither of us is too keen on wedding planning, though, so that’s been a bit of a roadblock. We don’t really give a shit about how it looks or where it is. We just want a big party, you know?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged, pretending I did.

  “As long as you guys are all there and Hanna gets to be the flower girl, it will be great. Honestly, we might just do it in our backyard. Low key. Simple.”

  “You gonna wear a dress or walk down the aisle in your coveralls?”

  Ellie took a swipe at me, and I laughed, backing away from her.

  “I’ll be wearing a dress. In fact, I already bought it.”

  I lifted both eyebrows. “I’m impressed. I figured you’d leave it to the last second. What’s it look like?”

  For some reason, picturing Ellie in a wedding dress was a bit odd. I’d only ever seen her in jeans, tank tops, and coveralls. Occasionally, she would be a bit more dressed up, but that only meant she wore jeans that actually fit and shirts that didn’t have holes or grease stains. Ellie in a white wedding gown would be … different.

  “You’ll just have to wait and see.” Ellie lifted her nose, but the corner of her mouth curled upward in a smile. She was excited.

  “I’m happy for you.”

  All of her fake arrogance slipped away, and she gave me a sidelong look. “Thank you.”

  I straightened and cleared my throat. “For the record, though, I’m not happy for Axel. He doesn’t deserve you. You’re too good for him.”

  “You should tell him that one time. See how it goes.”

  “I’m not suicidal, Ellie. Jesus.” I grunted and shook my head.

  She smiled before plunging herself back under the hood of the Impala.

  “You know I’m kidding, right?” I called.

  “Yeah, yeah. Now, get to work. We have shit to do.”

  I polished off my coffee, tossed it across the shop into the garbage can, and sauntered over to a Harley that was in for an exhaust replacement. By the end of the day, I knew I’d have her purring like a dream. I patted the leather seat like the bike was a dog. “You ready for your makeover?”

  My phone rang.

  Ellie looked over at me and shook her head as I pulled it from my pocket and peered down at the screen. It was Sabian Delgado calling, one of my buddies in the MC. As I put it to my ear, Ellie yelled at me to make it quick. I put my back to her and leaned against the Harley.

  “Hey, man, surprised you’re calling this early. Aren’t you usually face down in bed until noon?”

  Sabian growled into the receiver of his phone. “If I’m face down in anything, it’s pussy or ass. Don’t waste my time. This is important.”

  I chose to let his attitude slide. “All right. What is it, then?”

  “Have you seen the news?”

  I scoffed. “I don’t watch the fucking news.”

  “Some serious shit went down at the mansion, bro. The one Watson was holed up in. What’s it been? A few weeks since Axel trapped his ass and got him locked up? This shit isn’t sitting right.”

  I could hear the tension in his voice. Sabian was certainly spooked, and like most of us in the MC, he wasn’t the kind of guy to spook easily. “Define ‘shit went down.’”

  “I don’t have all the details yet. I called Ryder, but he’s not answering his fucking phone.”

  “Probably because he’s fucking Dani.”

  “I don’t think this is the time for jokes,” Sabian grated.

  “I’m not making any jokes.”

  There was a brief pause on the other end. I liked ruffling feathers. It was what I did best. Finally, Sabian pushed aside my inability to be serious and continued speaking. “The news coverage says the cops pulled seven bodies out of the house this morning around five. They’re not releasing any identities yet, not that I expected them to. But they’re saying it might be a gang hit.”

  “A gang hit? The only other gang with enough balls to make a move that big is us, Sabian.”

  “I know.”

  I tried to process what he was saying. Then I shook my head. “It wasn’t us. No one would go behind Ryder’s back like that. He’d fuck them up. Besides, things have been calm since Watson went down. We have a truce for the first time in ages. I can’t think of any one of us wanting to fuck that up.”

  “Me neither,” Sabian admitted, “but it’s probably something we shouldn’t rule out. People have their own intentions, man. We can’t assume to know what’s going on in everyone’s heads.” Sabian was quiet for a minute. I waited for him to continue. My mind was spinning a mile a minute. “The other explanation is that someone else had a bone to pick with the Black Hearts. But that means there’s another player on the board. Wouldn’t Ryder know if someone else had moved in on our turf?”

  “I would expect he would, yes.”

  “
Then I doubt its new blood.”

  “Maybe it was internal?” I suggested.

  “Maybe.”

  “I don’t like this,” I grumbled. “I don’t like this one fucking bit.”

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  About the Author

  Ali Parker is a full-time contemporary and new adult romance writer with more than a hundred and twenty books behind her. She loves coffee, watching a great movie and hanging out with her hubs. By hanging out, she means making out. Hanging out is for those little creepy elves at Christmas. No tight green stockings for her.

  She’s an entrepreneur at heart and loves coming up with more ideas than any one person should be allowed to access. She lives in Texas with her hubs and three kiddos and looks forward to traveling the world in a few years. Writing under eleven pen names keeps her busy and allows her to explore all genres and types of writing.

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