Steal His Heart: a bad boy romance novel

by Casey, London

  Of course I had a crush on him.

  Oh, the way I wanted him. I was too young then to understand what my body was feeling and what to do with it all. But not anymore.

  Except now, I was totally screwed.

  It was up to me to help take down his entire motorcycle club.

  *

  He smoked his cigarette and it turned me on, even though I hated smoking. Just like drinking—I fucking hated drinking. In fact, smoking and drinking were the reasons why my life had become this mess of deception.

  My cheeks were on fire. I knew if I turned on a light, they’d be bright red. But I couldn’t risk giving myself away. Not after how I acted in the bar. Chasing Max down, saying I knew him? What was with that? It was definite word vomit. Me clinging to something that resembled hope dressed in a leather cut with an evil look on his face. A man like Max could definitely save me.

  But why would he?

  I watched as Max got on his motorcycle and turned his head. Through the darkness, he couldn’t see me yet our eyes did lock for a few seconds. He was too smart to be easily done over. Maybe that’s why I blurted out that I knew him. Maybe in my sick mind I figured I could use our one-time kiss as leverage to twist him up so I could fuck him over.

  As he rode away, the thundering sound of the engine echoed in the distance. I knew how to ride motorcycles. I actually even knew how to fly a helicopter. For as illegal and dangerous as my job was, it had some small perks.

  Max was long gone when the screen on my phone lit up where it sat on the passenger seat. Good thing too, because that would have called attention to me sitting in a parked car staring at him.

  Talk about an idiot move.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  It was Johnny calling me.

  No way in hell was I taking the call now.

  I needed to move. Clear my mind. Really come up with something.

  I drove out of the parking lot and took side roads to get near the border of Daurian. I lived in a small town which was mostly dominated by empty buildings or factories that used to have a life. On the south side was the financial and tech center, which helped to provide the funding for the luxury apartments that kept popping up. Anyone who asked what I did, I said computer programming or financial work. Anyone who heard that would nod and imagine me being some rich woman. Single. Young. Maybe pretty. Living the dream.

  Living the dream? Sure, while drowning in a nightmare.

  I made it around a bend, trees all around me. A car came speeding up from the opposite direction. I didn’t think anything of it until someone almost jumped out of the car towards me.

  For real.

  I saw the flash of a gun and I ducked my head, I figured Johnny was finally going to do me in.

  The gun went off, and a thud shook the car.

  My car jerked out of control.

  I managed to save myself from crashing but knew what was happening.

  My tire was shot out and I was in trouble.

  *

  I sat there holding the wheel, trying to calm down. I wanted to get out of the car and go after the assholes that shot at me. But I knew better. Sadly, I knew my place in all of this. I had to stay in the car and wait for them to approach me.

  It was Don and Ruley. Don was tall and skinny with a nasty-ugly face, but wore expensive suits as though they were going to disguise his hideous features. Ruley was a thick guy, fat and muscle all mixed up together.

  Ruley usually drove so Don must have taken the shot.

  I watched as Ruley finished off a burger before he balled up the wrapper and threw it to the side of the road.

  Litter bug.

  I put my window down.

  “Hey, pretty little thing,” Don said. He smiled, his nasty teeth looked like a broken fence. “Where you heading?”

  “Why’d you shoot my tire?” I asked.

  “You didn’t answer Johnny’s call,” Ruley said as he jabbed his fat pinky into his mouth to pick dead cow out of his teeth. “You know what that means.”

  “Two things,” Don said before I could answer. “Either you got yourself killed or you took off.”

  “I’m on my way home,” I said. “I was going to call Johnny when I got there. Using your phone while driving is very dangerous.”

  “It’s even more dangerous to ignore Johnny,” Don said.

  “So what did you get tonight?” Ruley asked.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “What the fuck?” Don asked.

  “I told you all this was going to take time for me. They’re not idiots. There was a group of them at the bar, and they started a fight. Took their guns out. Place got crazy and the cops were called.”

  “Cops?” Ruley asked. He shoved Don out of the way. “What do you mean the cops got called?”

  “I was gone before they got there,” I said. “So were the guys, including our target. I got close enough to get a sniff.”

  “A sniff,” Don said. “You’re trying to talk like us. Like you’re one of us.”

  I lowered my head. “I am.”

  “No, you’re not,” Don said. “You’re pathetic. You need to make this happen. And fast.”

  “They’re smart men,” I said. “Let me do this my way.”

  “We don’t have time,” Ruley said.

  “Why?” I asked. “What’s the rush?”

  “You don’t fucking ask us questions, bitch,” Don said. “Now call a tow for your tire.”

  “You’re serious?” I asked.

  “The closest garage is your boy,” Ruley said. “Get him back up here. Do what you need to do. We want that motorcycle.”

  “All of this for a motorcycle,” I said.

  “Shut up and do your fucking job,” Don said.

  He was ugly, sure, but he had an even uglier look in his eyes.

  The two goons walked away and got into their car and left me there stranded. I took out my phone and found the only garage I could call. It was a junkyard and towing service. What it didn’t say was that it was also a motorcycle club. Back Down Devil MC. The club Max ran with.

  I should have felt bad, but what I really wanted was to feel saved.

  4

  (max)

  I was on edge. The night had gotten all fucked up. I had felt like someone was watching me. And then one of the prospects took a truck for some emergency roadside thing. We never had that fucking problem. Prez sent him out with help and we were waiting to see if it was some kind of a setup or not.

  If that wasn’t enough, I was sitting next to the SUV, having another smoke, waiting for Ivan to come get his package. I hated this shit. Dealing with the heavy hitters. I missed the old days of cruising and being an outlaw. Times change though.

  Austin and Cash were throwing down cards on the hood of the SUV, using a flashlight to see their hands.

  I tossed my smoke away and walked behind Cash.

  “Fold,” I said. “He’s got two queens.”

  “Hey, man, fuck off,” Cash yelled. He threw the card down and swiped the entire deck to the ground.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Did I ruin the game?”

  “Dick,” Cash said.

  “How long are we waiting?”

  “Until this is done,” Austin said. “Prez and VP are on their way now. Ivan is right behind.”

  “This far out? This late?” I asked.

  “Hey, Ivan wants to make a point,” Cash said. “He’s paying. We’re protecting. What else do you want?”

  “I feel like a goddamn hitman nowadays,” I said.

  “We’re rebuilding,” Austin said.

  That was true. I had to swallow that down for what it was worth. Our old Prez had set the club up for disaster. He tried to line his pockets but ended up in a grave instead. Trev came up from another chapter, down in Frelen, and had been doing a hell of a job fixing all the messes left behind.

  “Did you hear about over on Williams?” Cash asked. “Another window got busted up.”

  “What a
re you talking about?” I asked.

  “Someone’s been knocking off houses,” Austin said. “Mostly west side. Random break ins. Sometimes they take stuff, sometimes they don’t. Now they’re just throwing rocks through windows.”

  “Why aren’t we on this?” I asked.

  “Because we’ve got Ivan’s prize in the back of the SUV,” Cash said. “And last time I checked I wasn’t wearing a fucking badge. I’m not putting my head into that shit. I’d rather bury my head in a set of fake tits that smell like honey lemon body spray.”

  “Honey lemon body spray?” Austin asked.

  “Oh, it’s fantastic,” Cash said. “Sometimes I’ll spray that shit on my hand and then jerk off. Makes my load smell great.”

  “You smell yourself?” I asked.

  “I look at it, yeah. Make sure it looks good. The texture. The heat.”

  “Fuck,” I said. “There is something wrong with you.”

  “Why the hell are you jerking off?” Austin asked. “We have enough pussy to go around and then some.”

  “Nothing wrong with a little alone time,” Cash said. He smacked my shoulder. “Right, Max?”

  “Brother, you touch me again with that honey-jizz hand of yours and I’ll cut it off.”

  In the distance I saw lights, Prez and VP were here.

  I rushed to Prez. After they pulled up behind the SUV.

  “What happened with the emergency?”

  “Some woman blew out a tire,” Trev said. “Actual emergency.”

  “They tow her?”

  “No. She had a spare. No damage done. Nothing to worry about.”

  “It wasn’t a setup,” Jasper said. “Why the fuck are you on edge so bad?”

  I opened my mouth, wondering if I should tell them I thought I felt someone watching me.

  I decided against it.

  “Just a fucked up night,” I said. “I’m tired. I barely got to drink.”

  “His cock needs attention,” Cash said. “Hey, man, I’ll lend you my honey lemon spray.”

  “What the hell is honey lemon spray?” Trev asked.

  “Don’t ask,” I said.

  “It’s my favo-”

  I cut Cash off with a whistle and a head nod.

  There was a set of headlights coming up the road. They turned, coming right our way.

  It was either Ivan or the police …

  *

  I slept off the night and the booze I had after getting back to the clubhouse. It had been a mostly quiet night into the early morning. There was a woman in my bed, on top of the covers, face down, butt naked. She had a nice tramp stamp on her lower back, complete with some skulls, roses, and the BDD MC logo. A reliever trying too damn hard to get scooped up by someone.

  I knew one thing—she wasn’t going to be my old lady.

  I didn’t play that fucking game. I chose the outlaw world because it chose me. I was born into it with my old man—Chucky—running wild with the boys until he had a wicked accident and almost died. His legs got all fucked up and he couldn’t ride anymore. Rules were rules, so he gave up the leather cut and had to leave and earn straight. He ran a shit ton of crooked businesses, spent plenty of time in jail, did favors for the MC on the inside, and now lived in a beat-up shit trailer five miles south of Angsten. He had money, but not in a bank. It was literally buried all around his fucking trailer.

  Shit, I had no clue why the old man popped into my mind as I stared at some chick’s tramp stamp. Maybe because it’s what he told me he remembered about my mother. She was a reliever in her own light, giving birth to me, then heading east, thinking she could get herself to New York City and do something. Somewhere between Reno and Nashville she got herself tied up in a rival MC war and shot. I had no clue where she was buried, if she was at all. I was too young to remember, which meant now I was too distanced to really care.

  With a cigarette between my lips, I hiked up my jeans and grabbed a fresh t-shirt and my leather cut. I turned and swatted the woman’s ass with my hand.

  She jumped and let out a yell before she grabbed her head with a groan.

  “You can sleep it off here,” I said. “But sundown, you’re out of here.”

  “Whatever,” she said and went right back to sleep.

  Women.

  Right?

  I walked out of my room and out the backdoor of the clubhouse. The early afternoon sun slid her fingers down my steel cut body. I lit my smoke and took the first drag of the day. It was always the best drag.

  I looked around, checking my surroundings. You never knew when your time was coming. A fucking bullet out of nowhere and you’re gone.

  I walked towards the cars and tossed my t-shirt and leather cut over the hood of one of them, when I heard the voices.

  “You open that shit, man.”

  “Hey, Trev said to do it.”

  “Yeah, he said ‘you’ which means either one of us.”

  It was a couple of fucking prospects chattering away like fucking birds on a wire.

  I put my smoke on the roof of the car, balancing it perfectly. I threw on my shirt and cut, cracked my neck to the left, then to the right. I sucked in a breath, grabbed my dick and prayed to all holy reaper that I wore a condom last night, and smiled.

  I took my smoke and walked to find out what the fuss was all about.

  “Hey, pussies, what are we worried about?” I asked.

  “There’s a box,” one of the prospects said.

  “Hey, good for you. You know what a box is.”

  “Trev—er—Prez said to open it. It’s from Ivan.”

  “Let me see,” I said.

  The first prospect had the balls to grab my leather cut. The second he touched me his face turned white as a snow cone before they sprayed it with all that good sugary shit syrup.

  “Sir, Prez said we had to open it,” the prospect said. “In case it’s a bomb.”

  I put my hand to the prospect’s where he grabbed me. I squeezed; I didn’t fucking stop until I heard bones crunching. The prospect started to scream and that was enough to gain some attention from other members.

  Trev, Cash, and Xavier were there in seconds.

  “You open that box?” Cash asked.

  Then he saw me with the prospect.

  “What happened?” Xavier asked.

  “This little shit thinks he could just grab me,” I said. I let the prospect’s hand go and he collapsed to the ground. I turned to the other prospect. “Get your fuck buddy and get him some help. I’ll open the box.”

  “Jesus, Max,” Trev said.

  I looked at Prez. I had venom in my heart for some reason.

  I grabbed the box.

  “What if it’s a bomb?” Cash asked.

  “Then remember me for the size of my heart in loyalty to this club, and the size of my cock.”

  I ripped the box open and guess what?

  Nothing fucking happened.

  “Ivan sent us a little present,” I said.

  “What’s inside?” the other prospect asked.

  I tossed the box to young guy. “Just saying thanks for giving him a hand.”

  I started to laugh.

  Nobody else did. At least not right away.

  The prospect looked inside the box and screamed. He dropped it, and the box fell to the side. Out rolled a severed hand.

  The prospect turned and puked, hitting his friend right on the legs, making us all laugh.

  “Fucking Ivan,” Trev said. He pointed to the prospect. “Clean all this up. Burn the hand. Get rid of it.” Then Prez looked at me. “We need to talk.”

  “Oh?” I asked. “I didn’t even have breakfast yet.”

  “There’s some pizza from last night,” Xavier said. “Grab a slice or two.”

  “That urgent?”

  “Yeah,” Trev said. “We think someone is trying to set us up.”

  5

  (jade)

  I had the power to raise the dead back to life.

  Not in th
e literal sense of the dead climbing out of their graves, dusting off the dirt, and getting back to life. But in the electronic sense. It was something I wasn’t proud of in my life, but when Johnny had the gun to my head, I had no choice. This morning there wasn’t a gun to my head, at least literally. Sometimes Johnny did put a gun to my head just for the fun of it.

  I sat on the small deck to my townhouse with a fresh cup of coffee, and I used a stolen laptop with all the technological necessities to make this thing untraceable. In fact, I had picked up a little skill that would make it seem as though I was out of the country. That way, if someone picked up on what I was doing, they’d think I was in Iceland or something. Not in northern California, helping a woman who had passed not all that long ago to come back to life so Johnny could syphon money out of her estate. It was more complex than it seemed, and once it was done, it was done.

  I preferred to work with the dead because it made me feel less guilty.

  Sad, I know.

  I had to make it up to him for my fuck up with Max the other night. Johnny was all over me to get the motorcycle. He wanted to really go after Back Down Devil MC and I couldn’t figure out why. I tried to do my own research, only to come up short again and again. These guys were just rough and tough outlaws looking to survive. Johnny could clean up elsewhere and retire whenever he wanted.

  I finished my work by ten in the morning and placed a call on a burner cell phone.

  I got changed and went for a run, the cell phone tucked into my waistband.

  There was a park that was only a mile away. I ran there for the scenery and because it had a fast flowing creek where I could break the phone in half and dump it. I always tried to be extra careful, because getting caught wasn’t the scary part. The scary part was that if I got caught, I knew Johnny would find a way to kill me.

  After all, I still wasn’t completely convinced he hadn’t killed my father on purpose, just to get to me.

  I finished my lap around the park, phone taken care of, and cut back out to the main street.

  That’s when I saw the black car waiting for me.

  *

  If I didn’t stop, they would make me stop.

  The passenger window went down and Don’s ugly face stared at me.