Table of Contents
The Enforcer
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
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
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Enforcer
The Devil’s Henchmen MC, Book One
By: Samantha McCoy
The Enforcer
© 2017 by Samantha McCoy
First Electronic Publication: June 17, 2017
United States of America
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, redistributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in any database, without prior written permission from the author, with the exception of brief quotations contained in critical reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this work may be scanned, uploaded, or otherwise distributed via the internet or any other means, including electronic or print, without the author’s written permission.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or deceased, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Design: Wicked Women Designs
Photography: Reggie Deanching @ RplusMphoto
Model: Jamie Walker
Samantha McCoy
[email protected]
Acknowledgements
First, I have to thank my family. My kids have eaten a lot of Ramen noodles in the process of creating this book. Thank goodness, it’s one of their favorites! A special thank you to my mother-in-law, Teresa McCoy, for reading my books and encouraging me, and my father-in-law, Larry McCoy, for all the MC knowledge and help. Love y’all bunches!
To my author besties Kat, Jayne, and Jules - Thank you for just being you. Your reassurances have meant the world to me, along with your friendships. And my girl Kati - I love you, woman! Thank you Loves!
To Susan Garwood - Woman, you are amazing! Thank you for reading my mind and producing a cover that is absolutely gorgeous. Thank you for all the support you have given me. Much love Lady!
To P Jameson - Thank you for being an inspiration and mentor! It was such an honor to meet you in person in Dallas.
Last but not least, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my book. This has been an amazing experience. The love y’all have shown me has been mind-blowing, even before its release.
In loving memory of Scott E. Dorety (11/21/1976 - 05/18/2017). Loving father, friend, and so much more. Gone but never forgotten. This is not a goodbye, but simply a see you later.
Fly high!
Chapter One
Reaper
Reaper looked around the smoke-filled bar. Yep, just another day at the office. As always, the place was packed with the clubhouse usuals - brothers and the whores trying to become their ol’ ladies. He hated this place. Maybe hate was a strong word. He would rather be at home, laying in his bed, icing down his sore leg, but he was on duty tonight. As VP of the Devil’s Henchmen MC, he was responsible for ensuring everything ran smoothly tonight. Sledge, the MC’s President, was gone for the day to get his kid sister.
Well, she really wasn’t a kid, he thought to himself.
Sledge’s sister was a twenty-two year old woman, who apparently likes to pick all the wrong guys. This isn’t the first time he’s had to rescue her from a bad relationship. As a matter of fact, he had to do this same thing last year. Sledge ended up sending a couple of guys over to her place to chase off the low-life she was trying to get rid of, because apparently the guy wouldn’t take a hint.
To be honest, Reaper was surprised he had never met the girl yet. He’s heard about her plenty over the last fifteen years simply because he and Sledge go way back; but, he’s never brought her here to the compound. So whatever transpired this time, it must be pretty bad.
Reaper was lost in thought, wondering what exactly could have happened to make Sledge bring her to a place like this, when the clubhouse door flew open banging against the wall. Heart pounding, Reaper stood so quickly the barstool he’d been sitting on slid out from behind him and crashed to the floor.
Sledge was standing at the door with a lethal look on his face. He reached behind him and gently pulled a curvaceous female to his side. His cut was draped over her head so she couldn’t be seen, but Reaper knew who was underneath. Sledge glanced at Reaper and signaled for him to follow.
“Hold down the fort Frank,” Reaper said to the bartender on duty tonight and trailed behind Sledge up the stairs and into his office, without even waiting for a reply. He knew his order would be followed.
“Shut the fucking door,” Sledge said, looking as if he was ready to murder someone. He was pissed. It had been a long time since Reaper had seen his friend this upset. Sledge was normally the calm one out of the two of them. To see him pushed to his current state of anger, was something new for Reaper.
Closing the door, he turned back to Sledge just as he was removing the cut from his sister’s head, and everything clicked into place. Reaper understood what had pushed his friend into his current state. Reaper stood stiffly with his back against the door. The woman next to Sledge was beautiful.
She stood maybe five feet tall, long red wavy hair that reached to her waist, and curves that a man could hug for days. But that wasn’t the only thing that Reaper noticed. Her face, as stunning as it was, it made his blood boil. He could make out the cut on her swollen lower lip, the ugly black and purple bruise by her left eye that hadn’t begun to heal; and another on her right cheek and the perfect outline of a handprint around her throat. All of it was recent. Someone had put this beautiful woman through hell. Reaper wanted answers. No, something inside of him demanded answers. Whoever did this, whoever hurt her, they would pay.
“What the hell...,” he said as calmly as he could, but Sledge still arched an eyebrow at Reaper’s tone. He could hear the grumble in his voice and knew he was barely holding onto his rage.
The two of them had been friends for so long, they knew each other’s thoughts just from a single look. If there was one thing the Devil’s Henchmen did not tolerate, it was the abuse of females.
“Who the fuck is responsible for this?” Reaper demanded, making Sledge’s sister jump at his barely controlled tone.
Sledge glared at Reaper, saying, “That piece of shit ex of hers.”
“Please tell me he is no longer a problem?” Reaper asked, trying to calm his tone, not wanting to scare the woman more than she was already.
“Reap, this is my sister Amber. Amber, this is Reaper my VP. If you are not with me or in the clubhouse - you are to be with him. He will protect you.” Amber nodded her head to indicate she understood.
“To answer your question brother, no he is still out there. The fucker ran off the second he heard my bike pull into the apartment complex. I searched around the neighborhood, but I couldn’t find the dickweed anywhere,” he told Reaper. “Until he is found and dealt with, she goes nowhere alone,” Sledge said.
“Agreed. We need to call a member’s meeting. The club should know
what’s going on and who to look out for. I’m sure the bastard won’t be stupid enough to come here looking for her, but the more eyes we have looking, the better,” Reaper said and Sledge nodded his head in agreement.
“I’ll call a meeting in the morning. From what I saw downstairs, most of the brothers are probably too drunk to even understand what the fuck is going on tonight,” Sledge said, running a frustrated hand threw his hair.
He was right about that, Reaper thought, remembering a couple of the guys stumbling around and laughing when one fell over a chair and spilled his beer on one of the club girls. That’s how things were around here on a Friday or Saturday night. A bunch of drunk bikers looking for a piece of ass and even more club girls willing to give it to them.
That was never Reaper’s thing though. If he needed to get laid, he’d find his own flesh before he stuck his dick into something that all of his brothers had already had.
Looking at Amber, he wondered what her flesh would feel like wrapped around him. What she would taste like and he felt his dick come to life, thinking she probably tasted like pure honey.
What the ever loving fuck was he thinking! She’s his best friend’s sister and obviously the woman had already been through hell, Reaper thought to himself.
At that moment, Amber looked up at him, running her eyes from his scuffed-up boots to his middle. Her eyes widened slightly. Reaper knew she noticed his cock and he snickered causing her to break contact with that particular section of him and meet his eyes.
Damn, she was gorgeous, Reaper thought. If they had met under different circumstance, and if she wasn’t his President’s sister, Reaper knew he’d have been buried deep inside her the second she had walked through the club doors.
A cough drew Reaper’s attention away from Amber and towards her brother. “What?” he asked.
Sledge gave Reaper his signature look, the raised eyebrow and crooked smile. For some reason, tonight that combination made Reaper nervous. Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered him, but right now was totally different.
Reaper watched as Sledge’s eyes bounced between him and Amber. Shit! He noticed the tension between them, Reaper thought. This cannot be good. Sledge would tear his ass a new one for lusting after his sister.
Chapter Two
Amber
Amber stood there listening to her brother tell the gigantic guy all about her latest screw up. Ugh! Would he ever stop?
She knew she had bad taste in men, but she really thought Joe was different. He treated her great, took her on romantic trips, and spoiled her. Then one day everything changed. He started drinking, and then yesterday, the abuse started. Once was enough for Amber. She lived with that shit as a kid, she refused to live with it as an adult. There was just no way in hell. She honestly thought Joe was using drugs too.
Who changes that quick? Amber couldn’t figure it out. She really thought she had finally found a great guy, a good guy. But as always, she was wrong. He was a jerk, just like Paul.
Now, she was standing here looking like total shit in front of a guy who looked like a greek god. At least six feet tall, dark brown hair that hung past his shoulders, and enough defined abs that she could scrub the stains out of her damn clothes on those things! She could make out every single one and the perfect outline of his pecs even through the skin tight black t-shirt he wore. But what surprised Amber was the fact that, unlike all the other bikers she knew, this guy didn’t have a single tattoo on his smooth tanned skin. At least none that were visible.
He was sex on a stick. Hot as fuck! Amber felt the tingle of arousal, but she shut that shit down really quick. There was no way she was getting involved with another guy right now and definitely not a biker. She knew many of the guys in the club were ex-military like her brother, and she would bet her savings account that the guy across the room was too. Nothing against military guys, but so far, she hadn’t met one that wasn’t possessive as hell. That didn’t feel the need to always be in control and Amber was not the type of girl who allowed men to control her.
He had an air about him that bled danger, and that was the last thing she wanted to be involved with. She looked at him again as he talked with her brother about setting up a meeting in the morning. Her eyes started at his feet and worked their way up legs that could easier be considered tree trunks. The man should be on a muscle magazine cover. Finally, her eyes strayed up his body even farther, landing on the huge bulge in his pants.
Holy shit, she thought. Then she heard a snicker and her eyes shot to his. He was giving her a sexy, panty melting smirk. Yeah, she would need to change her panties after that one, she thought to herself.
Clearing her throat, she turned to her brother. “Devin, I am tired, sore, and in need of a hot shower. Where am I sleeping tonight?” she asked. Amber had to get out of this room before she made a fool of herself. Most likely, she’d slip in a puddle of her own drool. Just her damn luck!
Her brother looked in Reaper’s direction and said, “Man, will you take Amber to my room? She can stay there tonight since I’ll be here catching up on clubhouse shit until the morning.”
Reaper turned to her, “Sure thing. Come on peaches, I’ll show you the way and you can take care of your business and get some rest.”
He reached behind him and opened the door waiting for Amber as she made her way towards him. Once at the door, Amber turned back to her brother. “Thank you for coming to get me, Devin,” she told him.
Devin looked at her, his eyes softening and said, “I will always come for you, Am. I will always protect you, just like when we were kids.” She knew she had never heard a truer statement before.
Growing up, Devin always protected her from their alcoholic step-father when they were kids. He would often come home drunk and start in on Amber, but Devin always stepped in the middle. As far as parents went, their mother wasn’t any better. She was a meek woman. Submissive to the point that she did not speak unless she was spoken to. Of course, she was also a druggy. She didn’t care one way or another about what happened to her kids, as long as she had her next fix. Devin was the one who would steal food for Amber so she wouldn’t starve, and when he was old enough to get a job, he would always bring her home food. Devin had been her protector and provider. It was one of the many things that made him a great soldier. His protectiveness was a force all of its own.
Following Reaper down the hallway, she wondered if he was anything like her brother. Was his protective streak just as wide? She had a feeling it probably was.
They walked back downstairs and into the bar area. Several heads turned her way and just stared at her. Since Amber had never been here before and had no clue who any of these people were, all the attention made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t know anyone in the club, except Tank and K, but they weren’t here tonight; and all these strangers seeing the evidence of her stupidity embarrassed the shit out of her. She hated the idea of them looking at her beat up face.
She moved closer to Reaper, turning her face towards the floor. He noticed the movement and put a shielding arm around her as he led her outside. Grateful, she thanked him.
“There is no reason to thank me,” he told her. “You know, I’m not sure how much your brother has told you about the Henchmen, but just know this, each man in there would lay his life down for you. We don’t believe in hitting women. The looks you were getting were because just like Sledge and I, they get pretty upset when a woman is hurt,” Reaper explained, sounding angry all over again.
“That is nice to know,” she commented, “And thanks for the explanation, but I am sure it won’t come to that. There’s no way Joe would show up here. He knows Devin will put a bullet in him before he ever let him get close to me again.”
As Reaper came to a stop in front of a solid black door that led to an apartment building, he turned to Amber. She watched as he raised his hand to her face and lightly caressed her cheek. She wanted to lean into that single touch but knew she had no business getting involv
ed with him. Her instinct where men were concerned was shit, but she loved the feel of it anyway.
“You’re safe here. Come on, let’s get you inside,” he said softly. Dropping his hand, he opened the door.
The inside of the building looked more like a house, a huge house. Hallways and doors in all directions and even two separate staircases on either side of the living room, which opened to a large restaurant style kitchen. The place was beautiful, considering it was a house for a bunch of bachelor bikers. The living room was furnished with two black leather couches and a couple of matching big-boy recliner chairs. Accents of red and yellow were visible around the room, and in the rug located in the center of the room.
“This place is gigantic. Does everyone live here?” Amber asked as Reaper led her down the hallway to the right of the living room.
“For the most part yeah, but some members have their own houses away from the clubhouse,” Reaper replied. “Everyone has their own rooms so privacy really isn’t an issue. However, it does get crazy around here and you may see things that even the best eye bleach can’t remove,” he said with a chuckle.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she laughed. “I’m really hoping I won’t be here long enough to witness anything like that,” Amber said as they came to a stop at the end of the hall and Reaper opened the door for her.
The room was huge and tidy, everything in its spot. So much like her brother, it was comforting. On one wall, a large king size bed with small tables on each side took up most the space. On the other, was a dresser and two doors; above the dresser was a huge Devil’s Henchmen flag, hung perfectly between the doors.
Reaper walked into the room. “That door,” he said pointing to the one furthest away, “Goes to the bathroom, the other is just your brother’s closet.”
“Thanks,” Amber said in a quiet voice.
They just stood there staring at each other for what felt like forever. Amber had the urge to run her fingers through his long hair. How can a man have such beautiful hair? It really should be illegal, she thought. Finally, clearing his throat, Reaper walked to the door.
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