Where there's Smoke (The Devil's Apostles MC #1)

by Annie Buff

  Where there’s Smoke: Devil’s Apostles MC Part One

  Author: Annie Buff

  Editor: Chris Cain

  Dedications:

  This book, like every book in existence, was a labor of love. There are a few people that have gone on Smoke’s journey with me, and I owe you all a huge thank you.

  Chris Cain, my friend and amazing editor. Without all you do this wouldn’t be possible. I adore you beyond words. To Michael Joseph, who most graciously agreed to put a face to Smoke and give my readers someone to drool over. And to his Photographer, Don Ciesielski; without whom those beautiful photos would never have been made. Also to Joan Marie Buttigieg, my second mama and dearest friend for reading along with me as I wrote, and Renee Scarberry and Belinda Page, for being thrilled to get the exciting bedtime reading. Then to My son Tommy, who loved my big bad biker. And finally, to my mom, my inspiration, and my hero. Thank you for believing in my abilities and for all your encouragement along the way.

  Contents:

  1: Smoke

  2: Peyton

  3: The Enemy’s Daughter

  4: Getting the Skinny on Skinny

  5: Mountain Hideaway

  6: The Best Laid Plans

  7: The Killing Fields

  8: Home Sweet Home

  9: Church

  10: Hide and Seek

  11: Business

  12: A New Devil

  13: The Queen’s Detail

  14: A New Patch for Renegade

  15: Meeting the Brother

  16: Extermination

  17: The End and the Beginning

  18: Life Goes On

  Smoke

  Smoke sat on his scooter watching his club mates’ spin their tires in the dirt around the fire pit out front of the clubhouse shaking his head. He never wanted to be the Prez, never wanted the responsibility but after his pops met his maker by eating a bullet everything had changed. The club was in such disarray someone had to step in and organize the chaos. Since his pops was the President before him, and the Vise President was arrested in the hell storm that followed for weeks after his father’s demise; the weight fell on him, and all the brothers supported him with their votes.

  Smoke as he was called, just couldn’t find it in himself to let go of his bars, to ride the lightning into whatever next life was waiting for him. His name was Nero McAllister but that handle had died years ago, when he was patched in. Nero became Smoke and that was the beginning of this life that he wasn’t sure he still wanted. The years had numbed him, made him a hard and calloused man with no conscience and he was only thirty, but then again since he’d had the ride or die attitude from the time he’d been walking, he already felt old.

  Smoke longed for things that a biker shouldn’t. He wanted things that didn’t fit into this violent world he lived in. He wore a one percent patch for a reason. He and his brotherhood were into everything that made money and none of them cared how illegal it was.

  They had just returned from running a shipment of weapons to an associate on the border. Phoenix was only four short hours from Mexico and their associate met them on the American side. They made the exchange and hit the road for home. Each man packing his own heat tucked neatly under his cut, just out of sight of any law enforcement they might come across.

  This ride had been blacked out, meaning no colors or patches were visible. Two lead bikes, a semi full of weapons and ammunition, and two rear riders went dark through the night, just to be safe. Smoke had asked his Vise Prez to lead this mission and Knuckles had no problem accepting. Now they were home, drinking and partying with the rest of the brothers as he watched them enjoying the booze and some party favors, which generally consisted of marijuana, cocaine and crystal meth. Not to mention the women that hung around hoping to be good enough to become an old lady.

  Smoke had no old lady, lately not even a pretty young thing to warm his bed. What he wanted most was a family with a wife that loved him no matter how many horrific things he had done, and that list was as long as his arm. He’d killed so many over the years he’d lost count but he could still see their faces in the dark when he closed his eyes to sleep

  When the joint was passed his way, he declined. Most nights he would have taken what was passed, but not this time. Smoke needed his wits tonight. Someone had been asking questions about him and his brothers and he was heading to town to find out just who wanted to know his business and why. He fired up his old Panhead and let the dirt fly as he made his way down the old unpaved road to the highway. The best part of this life was the iron horse between his legs, there was nothing quite like riding, wind in your face, living on the edge. Risking life and limb every time he climbed on but Smoke wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Peyton

  Peyton Sidle sat reading all her notes and sorting through all the pictures she’d taken of the bikers she’d been hired to investigate. This wasn’t a job she wanted; in fact she refused several times but nobody refused Skinny Mathews for long, not even his daughter. So here she sat in a less than habitable motel room trying to figure out who the leader of this pack was. She knew of the MC, a bunch of very bad men that did very bad things; just like her dad, but this seemed different. It was in the eyes and the man in the photos had the most intriguing eyes, a soft honey brown that looked both beautiful and tired. Like he’d been in the life too long and needed a break. At this point so did Peyton, a coffee break and a walk to clear her head.

  She walked the streets of the east Phoenix suburb trying to clear her head of the brown eyed biker she was supposed to gather Intel on, but what Peyton really wanted to do was get to know him. The man with his long dark hair and goatee was the sexiest thing she’d ever laid eyes on and she had only seen his photos. Peyton couldn’t imagine what it would be like to actually meet him face to face. She knew he was dangerous; men like him always were, but there was a sorrow in his eyes that said he was so much more than an outlaw biker.

  As she walked she could hear the low rumble of a bike in the distance, it was a normal sound in this place. The Junction was a biker haven and most bars and businesses catered to them. Peyton was lost in her thoughts when the single headlight hit her eyes, it was him! And the way he looked at her said he knew she was the one asking questions about the club.

  He pulled to the curb and cut the engine of his bike as he leveled his gaze at her. “Wanna tell me why you’re so interested in my brothers and me?”

  Nope, she had no intention of telling him anything! No matter how gorgeous he was, giving away information would only get her hurt or worse so it was time to lie her ass off. “I’m doing research for a book I’m writing, it didn’t occur to me it would be a problem.”

  Smoke looked at the blonde beauty knowing she was full of shit but with her baby blues and that body he almost didn’t care. This woman was exactly what he had waited for all these years, but he wasn’t going to let her know that. He was Smoke; President of The Devil’s Apostles and still a very bad man. She needed to understand that.

  “I call bullshit on your research miss… err… whatever your name is. I know better than to believe that line of shit so don’t fuck with me and tell me right now exactly why you’re so interested!” The tone told her he wasn’t messing around.

  “Peyton, that’s my name, so now that you know mine what’s yours?” She hoped making it personal would work and he would be less likely to want to hurt her. Even still straddling his bike he was a big man, well over six foot and built like a brick shit house, and she was terrified, but intrigued at the same time.

  “Smoke. They call me Smoke. Now get on, we need to talk little lady.” Peyton hesitate
d not sure if it would be her last night on earth if she went with him. Smoke must have known, because he actually smiled at her. ”I’m not gonna hurt you, I just want to show you something, so get on. Please.”

  Peyton climbed on behind him not sure if she had made the mistake of her life or if she was making a life changing decision but either way he left her little choice, a man like Smoke was used to getting what he wanted. “Hold on to me.” He told her before he fired up the bike; she put her hands on his shoulders to keep steady.

  “Tighter Peyton, wrap them around my middle, I don’t want to lose you somewhere down the road.”

  Then he hit the throttle and they took off like a rocket, she had never been on a bike before and was absolutely panicked and he knew it, it was in her body language, in the way she hung on and her rapid heartbeat gave her away. He had no intention of harming her, she felt too good behind him and it had been way too long since a woman had held on to him like she was. Smoke knew he could get any woman he wanted but lately he didn’t want the ones he came across. Smoke wanted Peyton in the worst way. Sometimes fate was a cruel bitch because there was no way a high class girl like her could ever want a man like him.

  They rode down the highway, slowing down to show her things, houses, businesses and things he thought she should know, then he took her down the dirt road that led to his home and the clubhouse. The party had died down, something he was thankful for. Explaining Peyton wasn’t something he was willing to do, at least not yet. Smoke needed to know why she was here and who sent her. When the Panhead came to a stop he let her get off and kicked the stand down to dismount himself.

  “The places I showed you, well we helped keep them going, helped pay the rent so the businesses stayed open, kept the homeowners in their homes. We’re not as ruthless as you think. We may operate outside your laws but we have a code of conduct we live by that you don’t understand. So are you going to tell me who hired you to spy on us?”

  Peyton knew she had to tell him, just being with him for the last hour made her understand so much. Her dad would have to do his own work. Peyton wanted to know Smoke, but for herself; no other reason. She laughed internally, thinking how horrified her mother would be if she knew that her daughter was attracted to a big bad ass biker.

  “My dad is the one who put me up to this. Believe me I tried to say no, but he’s not a man that likes that word. So here I sit, in a pot full of trouble with you and your MC; and I’m sorry.” Peyton really was sorry, she hated her father and how he could manipulate everyone including his family to get what he wanted.

  “Who’s your father Peyton? I think I may need to have a talk with him. I’m not angry with you, but him; oh hell fucking yes! You don’t put your daughter in the line of fire. He must be the dumbest fucker on the planet!” She knew he was anything but, still Smoke had a point, he put her in a very precarious position and she had a feeling this bad biker was gonna go to war with her father.

  “Skinny Mathews is my dad, he thinks you stole from him and now he wants retribution.” Smoke had to laugh; they had stolen from him and made a fortune off the contraband. Ten kilos was a nice day’s work, and now that he had Peyton here; Smoke would spend some of his cash on her, if she would let him. She was his type in every way, beautiful blonde; petite with curves in all the right places. She had no idea just how hard he’d been since she squeezed in behind him on his bike. It had been a long time since a woman had this kind of effect on him. Ten years ago he had what he thought would be his forever girl, but she left him behind, not being able to handle the life. After that all he wanted was to get out, then pops died and the rest was history.

  Smoke looked at her like he wanted to devour her, the way a lion looks at its prey. Peyton felt like Smokes prey and she wasn’t sure if she minded. He was a gorgeous man with a body to match. What could it hurt to explore the attraction they both obviously felt? The closer he leaned in the more she could smell him; he had this musky, masculine scent underlined with the taste of leather that would drive any girl crazy. Peyton was close to saying screw it and giving in and kissing him.

  “I should take you back to wherever you’re staying, it’s late.” He waved her towards the bike.

  “You brought me here for a reason, so tell me what it is. You could have gotten what you came for without the guided tour. Come on Smoke, give it up.”

  “Yeah Peyton I did, but I was wrong and it really doesn’t matter anyway. This life isn’t for you, you’re so beautiful, so perfect and I’ll ruin you. No matter how bad I want to make you mine, you deserve better; so much better than a murderous biker with no morals and nothing to offer you but a life of worry and mayhem.” Smoke had nothing of any decency to offer a woman like her, yes he had money; but she was the kind of woman that expected her man home at night, sleeping next to her, not out running guns and drugs and committing any number of felonies. This was the right thing to do. He knew it, why did it have to be such a bitch.

  “Ok I get it, I’m not girlfriend material, its fine just take me back to my shit motel. I’ll leave tomorrow and your problem will be gone.” Smoke knew he had to take her, the problem was doing it.

  Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to keep her here, keep her safe; make her fall in love with him. And it was actually hurting him to know that he shouldn’t. Life couldn’t get any more unfair at this point.

  “Don’t leave town just yet, please. Damn I’ve said that twice to you and please isn’t usually in my vocabulary. Please Peyton, I have a bad feeling your pops is gonna lose his shit over you telling me what you did. Can you pack up and come stay with me? Just until I handle everything?”

  She could but Peyton wasn’t sure she should. Yes her dad was going to lose it completely, but only if she told him what she did. She could just make up a few stories and feed it to him hoping he would buy it.

  “I’ll be fine Smoke you don’t need to worry. I’ve been handling Skinny Mathews for twenty three years now and I’m pretty good at it. Just take me back and I promise not to make any trouble for your club.”

  Smoke knew Skinny and he would sell his own daughter if there was a profit for him, he would hurt her and there was no way in Hell he would have another set of eyes in his dreams. That’s when he grabbed her and kissed her. It was a demanding kiss, rough and raw like him but she kissed him back with the same intensity and when they finally broke; lips swollen, he smiled in a way he’d never smiled before.

  “Please stay, I know him and he’s gonna hurt you. I won’t have that on my conscience and damn it Peyton I want you to stay with me, nobody has ever gotten to me like this and it’s only been two fucking hours.” She nodded, indicating she would stay, just for a while. Until the dust settled.

  The Enemy’s Daughter

  Smoke and Peyton rode in silence except for the roar of his pipes back to her motel to gather the few things she had brought with her to the junction. Her rental car still sat where she left it and there were a few items she needed before packing her bag. As she approached the car it exploded in a fiery ball of metal hell, blowing shards of glass and shrapnel across the lot and hitting Peyton, knocking her down leaving her bleeding and unconscious. Smoke screamed her name, running towards her hoping to the devil she was alive.

  “Peyton, sweetness, ah fuck me!” She was breathing but a bloody mess and he needed backup immediately. He sent the nine-one-one text to the brotherhood, praying they made it before whoever planted the bomb came back.

  “Please pretty girl, don’t die!” He screamed into the darkness of the night. Smoke knew she was his and he just needed time to make her see, convince Peyton to give him a chance. Let him show her there was more to him than the ruthless biker she saw. He knew he had it in him, somewhere deep down it was there; he just needed to find it, to feel like he could share his demons with her. Smoke just hoped she wouldn’t look at him different once she knew the real Smoke.

  Knuckles and the boys brought the van and it was just in time. While he was
carrying Peyton across the lot, gunfire erupted from all directions. Smoke dove into the cargo van shielding her from the hail storm of bullets, catching one in his shoulder. He yelled to get them moving while the others stayed behind to return fire and collect his Harley, no decent man would ever leave his bike behind but Smoke had no choice. Peyton was hurt and by the looks of things it was damn bad.

  “Faster!” he hollered at Krispy Kreme, his donut eating brother who drove the van that night; Peyton was bleeding from so many places and he couldn’t stop it. There were too many cuts to apply pressure to them all. Smoke used his belt as a tourniquet on her thigh after pulling a huge chunk of glass from her flesh. That was the biggest bleeder, but she was a mess and this was partly his fault. Someone had seen her with him and reported back to her father. Smoke knew that son of a bitch would hurt his own daughter and he had.

  Peyton was still unconscious when they arrived at the clubhouse and Smoke wasted no time carrying her to his house that sat fifty yards to the rear. Bones, the club doctor and also the treasurer took her and shut them out of the room to handle his patient.

  “So who is she Smoke? She’s gotta be someone for you to risk the club just to save her.” Knuckles knew him too well; they had grown up together in the MC, and were patched in together.

  “Yeah she is, and her dad did this to her. I’m gonna fucking kill him. No mercy!” Smoke slammed his fists on the coffee table in front him. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself when he finally got his hands on Skinny Mathews. It was going to be enjoyable; beating him with his fists until he had no brain activity, no breath coming from his body. Smoke would do the deed without hesitation. It was a well-deserved sentence.

  “Can one of you dig the tin out of my shoulder? I’m on fucking fire, and I need to be ok when Peyton wakes up.” Smoke had never let his brothers see him like this; vulnerable was a bad thing in his world. Vulnerable would get you dead real quick and if he died it would be on his terms, not anyone else’s. In a few short hours Smoke was so taken with Peyton he knew he would never get over her, she was the one.