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Bruiser's Caress (Warpath MC Book 2)

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by Raven Scott




  Bruiser’s Caress

  Warpath MC #2

  Raven Scott

  Elizabeth Knox

  Contents

  Warpath MC Members

  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

  Also by Raven Scott

  Also by Elizabeth Knox

  Bruiser’s Caress

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.

  © 2021 Raven Scott & Elizabeth Knox. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  Published by Knox Publishing, LLC

  Cover Design: Charli Childs, Cosmic Letterz Cover Design

  Editing: Debbie Dumke, Knox Publishing

  Proofreading: Rebecca Vazquez, Knox Publishing

  Formatting: E.C. Land, Knox Publishing

  Published in the United States of America

  Created with Vellum

  Warpath MC Members

  Spyder – Prez

  Bruiser – VP

  Cole – Treasurer

  Rook – Enforcer

  Davey – Road Captain

  Parker – Sgt. at Arms

  Chapter One

  Bruiser

  Tapping my feet absently, I stared at the ceiling of my apartment through bleary eyes. My mind belched out possible routes Parker and I could take in the morning, but I kept feeling like shit would go sideways. Anxiety clawed at my gut, gouging deeper the past few days, and my ears rang from the intensity of it. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up, and one thing I always knew to do was trust my gut. After all, your gut never lies to you.

  “Are you still coming up with a route for tomorrow?” Blinking hard, my gaze snapped to Parker as he sauntered into the living room. His brown, wavy hair was getting long and curled around his ears, and I nodded mutely. Handing me a beer, he sat in his overstuffed recliner, kicking up his feet with a satisfied groan. “Today sucked. Whatever route you do decide on, make it long and scenic.”

  “I’m thinkin’ that’s what I might do, yeah. I can’t shake this feeling.” I cracked open my beer setting the cap on the coffee table, and Parker shot me a quizzical look. “I don’t know. I just feel like something’s up, and it’s not good. This is a huge haul, but it’s not anything I haven’t managed before. It’s paltry compared to what my uncle used to have me run, but every time I get this feeling, it’s never been wrong.”

  “Well, then we should listen to it. What about taking the longest winding route up around Yellowstone and through Flathead?” Parker took a swig of his beer bottle with a flourish, and I smirked a little before his hiss cut through the living room. He had a wild night the other day with this tourist passin’ through town. Turns out she bit his lip and made the fucker bleed. I’d put my money on the fact he’d hissed ‘cause of it. “Fuck, man. Today was the absolute pits. I stuck my ass in a crawl space, and I stepped into a huge ant colony. I didn’t even know ants lived in isolation. Needless to say, I was even less happy than the dude that contracted me. I might’ve lost my shit on him a bit. Like, fuck, have those things you plug in your wall to keep the bugs away or something. It’s not that damn hard.” Yeah, okay. Fucker’s too much of a pussy to admit a wild girl took a chunk out of him.

  “That’s what you get for being an electrician, Parker. It’s barely a step up from a plumber. What’d he say?” Thankful for the change in subject, I gulped down half my bottle as Parker’s lip curled in a snarl. He was lean, mean, and could handle himself in a fight, but he talked all the God damn time. “I guess the important thing is what he didn’t say.”

  “He threatened not to pay me if I didn’t finish the job. I told him I wanted the ants gone before I took my ass back in there, then pointed out the fact the structure wasn’t safe. Can you believe he said he was gonna sue me for damages, so I said, ‘okay, that’s fine,’ and left without fixing his electricity. Now, he’s stuck in a heatwave with no AC, rotting food in his fridge, and I have his security deposit. He can sue me if he wants. He’s the one that had me come in knowing the structure was compromised. Plus, he threatened legal action. That’s when a smart person says, ‘good, have your lawyer contact mine, all communication will be through them, now’.” Parker caught my eyes to grin impishly, his straight, white teeth glinting as light reflected off his beer bottle. “Not that you’d get a lawyer involved, Bruiser. Since we’re startin’ the club up and shit these days, I figure it’s best to not do anythin’ stupid, so I acted all professional and shit. Anyway, as much as today sucked, I’m looking forward to tomorrow. It’s not often you unglue your ass from Spyder’s—”

  “Fuck you, Parker.” He only grinned wider, showing off shallow dimples, as he settled deep into his chair. I sat back to bluster a sigh, knowing where this conversation was going. “He couldn’t come, anyway. We knew it before he even got back together with Bailey that Spyder would have to sit this out. My uncle doesn’t like him, and he doesn’t like my uncle.”

  “That’s what you’re for anyway, right? Your uncle likes you, and you’re buds with Spyder, which makes them both money, so they tolerate each other. I mean, I get not sending Spyder by himself and that you can’t haul so much on one bike. I usually don’t like long hauls, but I’m honestly kinda glad shit’s hitting the fan and I can get away for a few days.” Parker’s little tirade slowly devolved into mumbles, and he drained his beer before getting up for a new one. Sitting up with a grunt, I blew out a hot breath and rubbed my scalp roughly as I stared at the map on my coffee table. Going around Yellowstone and through Flathead. That seemed like the best idea.

  There were several gas stations along the main route, but there were also a ton of cops, cameras, and tolls. We’d be better off cutting through Salmon-Challis and up past Payette. Reaching to drag my fingertip up the map, I grunted to myself thoughtfully.

  “There’s only one gas station up there. I’m gonna have to ask Uncle Minter to bring us some gas to have enough to get back down.” Once again, I tapped my feet on the hardwood, and I scratched and rolled my jaw. Some of the apprehension seeped from my gut as the route itself played out in my mind’s eye. I like that way.

  “How come you call him Minter? Why’d your mom name you Bruiser? Is it like ye olden days or something, and they name you the trait they hope you’ll develop? Like Chastity, or whatever?” Lifting my head, I frowned as I shrugged, and Parker guffawed as he dropped heavily into his chair once again. “
You don’t know?”

  “My mother tried to kill me, so no, I never asked her why she named me what she named me. I was raised by my uncle, and I’m pretty sure Minter’s not his name, but it’s what everyone calls him.” My admission shut Parker up, and I sniffed sharply as I shook my head. “There’s no point in questioning it, Parker. It is what it is. My family’s been smuggling since before Canada was even Canada. If you ask my uncle why he’s called Minter, he’ll probably kill you, so I advise you to keep your fucking trap shut.”

  “Yeah.” I bit my tongue at Parker’s faltering response, and he glumly sucked on his beer bottle. Shaking my head hastily, I turned my gaze back to the coffee table as my mind wandered. The drive to Canada was almost a thousand miles, and the logistics were formidable. Parker nursed his beer in silence, and I scratched through my stubble as my mind ran through a cycle of dos and don’ts.

  “At least it’s getting nicer out, and the cold won’t be so bad up north,” I almost snorted at that, and Parker scowled darkly at me defensively. “What? It’s true.”

  “Firstly, it’s April, Parker, and secondly, you’ve never been so far north, have you? It snows in April regularly in Canada.” He tinged pink around the ears, wet as they were, and I took a swig of my bottle before continuing. “Better pack a jacket. A lot can happen in a thousand miles. Part of the reason Spyder can’t go this time is because his bike had trouble handling the distance and terrain.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that was why. I thought he wanted to bring Bailey, and you didn’t.” The mention of that girl rose my hackles, and I didn’t even have hackles. Parker’s slippery smirk returned, and a knowing glint brightened his bland, brown eyes. “You’ve made it pretty clear you don’t like her. Why not?”

  “I don’t not like her, specifically. She’s just the kind of person I don’t like. Smart and capable of some fucked up shit, wrapped up in a pretty face. Chicks like that are dangerous. I wouldn’t get involved with a woman like her.” Parker snickered, but I had plenty of reason to be wary of Bailey. She fucking ruined her ex’s life to the point that he tried to kill her. Not to mention she’s a tech-head. Like I said, a whole bunch of fuckin’ trouble. “Spyder’s happy with her, and that’s fine, but I’d like to keep some distance. Bailey might not be a typical psycho, but she’s fucking brutal when she wants to be.”

  “You think she’d turn on you because you don’t like her?” I almost rolled my eyes at Parker’s probe and grunted lowly as I lifted my beer to my lips. “Hailey likes her a lot.”

  “Which isn’t necessarily something I wanna entertain either, Parker. Look—” Catching his eyes with a hard glower, I sat forward to clasp my beer bottle between my knees. “You got no idea what it’s like to grow up lookin’ at everyone as a potential enemy. Despite how levelheaded and shit she is, Bailey obliterated her ex off the face of the planet. Yeah, he beat her up, and yeah, she didn’t deserve to get stalked and attacked, but she’s fucking dangerous and even worse than that, she’s innocuous when she wants to be.”

  Parker was quiet, but I was completely convinced that he didn’t understand exactly the kind of person Bailey was. She smiled pretty, probably great in the sack, and Spyder was head over heels for her, so what wasn’t to like? But something about her set me on edge when Spyder and I ran into her at that truck stop in Arizona. It was like the damn gut feelin’ I get when shit’s about to go sideways. I just knew something wasn’t right.

  Bailey was wicked smart and didn’t have a single mean bone in her body. She outright asked Spyder a bunch of intuitive and very on-the-nose questions, and he just fucking answered her without care. Even now, months and months later, it made my blood boil thinking about it.

  He wasn’t wrong, of course. Bailey was a ride or die bitch if I’d ever met one.

  “Anyway . . .” I drained the rest of my bottle and hissed, shaking my head viciously of my thoughts. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I’m not the one fucking her. I’m gonna go for a ride.”

  “What, you’re not gonna invite me?” Standing up, I ignored Parker’s questions because honestly, I’d had enough of them hurled at me, and he’d only been in the room for less than ten minutes. Grabbing my helmet off the coffee table, I headed out of our shared apartment and stood in the hallway, staring down at my boots for a long, still moment.

  Chapter Two

  Bruiser

  “The last gas station is about six miles up the road. We’re gonna have to fill up the canister if we want to get to the border.” Speaking through the headset in my helmet, I glanced back at Parker cruising behind me. He nodded leisurely, quiet for the first time ever, and I wasn’t regretting bringing him so much anymore. We had about three hundred miles to go to get to Canada, but the entirety of it would be deep in the woods.

  There was a stretch, if memory served, that didn’t even have paved roads, but it was short and relatively well-maintained by the resort it cut through. I hadn’t gone this route in years, and I flexed my hands around the grips. My motorcycle rumbled like thunder underneath me, the vibrations from the engine lulling me like a siren song.

  Every once and a while, it was good to put away my speedster and just sit back and relax in the saddle. These long rides up north were good for that. It’s nice to see something other than dried up husks and dirt for miles, too.

  I inhaled as deeply as I could and held my breath, relishing the fresh, crisp mountain air. Not that I’d trade my dual citizenship. That bitch did one thing right, at the very least. She knew my dad, who wasn’t much better than her, but he was American born.

  Fucking Canada, I wouldn’t go back full time for all the money in the world. Not for the best pussy or a gold-plated bike. I hated the cold. The cold just ruined everything great about Canada for me.

  “I think, when we get back, I’m gonna go clubbing in Saint George on Friday. I saw this artist that’s gonna be playing, so I’m hopin’ it won’t be a dead party.” Parker’s voice filtered through my headset, and I grunted lowly in acknowledgment. “Wanna come?”

  “Can’t. I’m doing inventory on Friday. This haul is mostly K and coke, but Cole and Spyder are manning the auto shop that night.” Coming up with an excuse on the spot, I was just glad it happened to be true. Parker grumbled unhappily to himself, but I ignored him. He was damn near thirty and partying, fucking chicks whose names he didn’t know wasn’t cool anymore. Getting drunk Friday to Monday was just sad, now.

  But I wasn’t the one that was gonna suffer when this shit caught up to him.

  “I’m not saying you’re a wet blanket, Bruiser, but you never wanna do anything fun. You don’t even have a job to occupy your time. What do you even do but ride, sleep, and stare at the ceiling?” Fuck, I do regret bringing him. I needed another mule for the load, though, and Cole was busy with Davey doing some secret shit I couldn’t be bothered to pry into. “For real. I wanna know.”

  “So, get this, Parker. It’s a crazy concept, and kinda a secret . . .” Trailing off, I reached to rub my neck as expectation dribbled from the seams of my helmet. “I literally couldn’t give a fuck what you think of me.”

  “No need to be a dick about it.” I ground my molars at Parker’s grumble; he was the only one that annoyed the absolute fuck out of me, constantly asking questions. His curiosity was going to get him into trouble one day. My phone pinged shrilly, cutting through my skull, and I eased the clutch before pulling up my vizor.

  Muting the app connecting Parker and my headset, I answered the call from my uncle as dread gnawed at my gut. “What’s up, Uncle Minter? We’re about three hundred miles away. About to hit the last gas station.”

  “Listen, Bruiser, I need you to take my son for a bit down south.” My uncle’s demand wasn’t a request, and my cheek twitched in agitation. Frustration warmed my palms, but he didn’t give me a chance to even think up a reply. “I know it’s not ideal, and I kinda had to spring it on you, but ask your guild leader, club leader, asshole guy and make sure he doesn’t have a
problem with it. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  Uncle Minter was smart, even if infuriating, and he hung up on me before I could tell him to fuck off. Growling low in my throat, I tapped Spyder’s contact before hesitating. Briefly, the thought occurred to me that he’d simply tell me to call him back, and I flexed my fingers before navigating back to the app to resume my call with Parker.

  Unfortunately, he was the only other one with a ten-gallon tank that could make the stretch from this gas station to the border. If I thought my uncle was gonna shove something at me, I would’ve insisted Spyder come.

  “There’s the gas station, it looks insanely busy for an outpost kinda thing.” Snapping out of my thoughts at Parker’s voice, I groaned at the long, long line of cars slicing through the gas station. Pursing my lips thinly, apprehension crowded my heart as it beat harder. We had to stop here, there wasn’t another gas station for a hundred miles, and we wouldn’t last that long.

  “I guess we got no choice. Let’s just hang out while they pass through. I’m gonna smoke a cigarette, and I gotta call Spyder.” Muttering to myself, my lip curled in a scowl as we came upon the two rows of cars neatly, politely waiting. Clearly, they were all part of the same convoy; the closer we came, the more people we spotted hanging out talking between cars. People were taking pictures, eating homemade food from trunks, but the atmosphere was almost electric with stress.

 

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