Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  “How can you stand watching Meggie cry? Whatever else I’ve done, I’ve always loved her.”

  “Meggie is going to grow up one day and leave, Joe. I can’t put my life on hold for her. My husband requested I stop your visits—”

  “Fuck your husband!” He’d never fucking wanted to wallop Dinah. Ever. But he did just then. “Meggie’s my baby girl. I’m going to fucking fight you for her.”

  Whirling around, Dinah sucked in a breath. “Go ahead. Who do you think will get her? Me? Her mother? This stable home life she has with me says it all,” she sneered. “Or do you think your money will get her away from me? Having a hormonal thirteen-year-old at a biker club isn’t the smartest decision. No court in the world would give her to you.”

  Her derision cut through Joe. He’d always held her sweet words close to his heart. But, fuck, it worked with K-P. Didn’t matter he had his daughter’s mother with Bailey in a house in Hortensia. He still made it work. Fuck, Joe wasn’t too fucking proud to ask for advice about how to manage that shit.

  “All you’d do is spoil Meggie. She doesn’t need that. She needs to learn responsibility.”

  “She’s fucking thirteen. She should be spoiled.”

  “I wasn’t spoiled at that age. And she’s almost fourteen I refuse to allow her—”

  “I spoiled you once we met.”

  “Years later.” She started to cry. “Please. Just leave. Don’t make trouble. You have your club to run. Your son to look after. Your precious Christopher.”

  “Shut up. You never met Christopher, so your dislike is misplaced.”

  “Blood in, blood out,” she charged. “When you fall, I don’t want Meggie anywhere around the fall out.”

  Joe wasn’t a superstitious motherfucker by any means, but Dinah’s words sounded like a fucking curse. Bitch wasn’t known for fucking prophecies, but all women could hex a motherfucker.

  Dinah ran across the street and back into the house, her words floating in the air.

  If he ever fell, he wondered who the fuck would be left standing?

  Years later, as his life flashed before him, and his finger squeezed the trigger to end Christopher’s life, Dinah’s words exploded in his head the very same moment Christopher’s bullet did.

  THE END

  Misbehavior

  By Kathryn C. Kelly

  Edited by Crystal Cuffley

  Cover by Crystal Cuffley

  Copyright © 2014 by Kathryn Kelly

  Copyright © 2014 Cover Art by Crystal Cuffley

  Copyright © 2014 Cover Image Jeffrey Sygo &

  Logan Barnhart

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Preface

  Prologue

  Part One: Innocence Lost

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Part Two: Innocence Given

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Part Three: Innocence Surrendered

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  WARNING: CHAPTER THREE CONTAINS VIOLENCE THAT MAY UPSET SOME READERS.

  Blurb

  Matthew “Val” Taylor, the Road Captain in the club, was introduced to sex at an early age. Saved from the streets by the club’s Enforcer and President years ago, Val now lives for women and the open road. Until the night the only woman he’s ever loved is almost killed. Val determines to change his ways and be the man Zoann Donovan should have and the father their son deserves.

  Zoann has loved Val for a long time. Violence and bitter betrayal forces her to ignore her feelings and distance herself not only from the sexy RC, but her beloved brother, too. Until she discovers the truth. Can Zoann ever be forgiven for all the pain she’s caused? Will Val overcome his own demons and have a future with her and their son? Who will survive in an MC filled with lust and revenge, love and hate?

  Warning: This is a tale of rape, murders, deception, heartache, lies, and infidelity. The road to redemption is a tumultuous struggle where only the strong survive and justice is served…Outlaw-style.

  Dedication

  Kat’s Krewe, this one’s for you. Thanks for keeping my ass on my toes and keeping shit on the real.

  Jordan Marie, your energy amazes me. A sister from another mister added to my growing list.

  Tonya Nichols, your trailers are the shit.

  Mel, (Melanie Cooper), thanks for beta reading, even interrupting your vacation. Your wit is wonderful. Oh, yeah, and your love of hot guy pictures.

  Mistress Dibs, Crystal Cuffley, you’ll always be my girl.

  Zoey Megahey, kisses, sweetie.

  Jen Sumner, you respond to my drunk-as-a-baboon messages as well as my sober ones. They aren’t as fun. Still…

  Cee Cee, I’m getting back to writing!

  Dawn Griego, thank you for your private pep talks.

  Kaylyn Davis, I appreciate our in-depth conversations.

  Stacey Moon, ain’t nothin’ but a thing, babe. Our shirts are coming. One day. Someday. Promise.

  Sarah Ann Scoot Gillespie, my gorgeous afghan keeps me warm when I’m at my desk.

  Shannon Burdsall, one of my first FB fans. You’re there whenever.

  Margaret Squier, the autographed book you and Shannon sent me for my birthday has a special place on my shelf. Thank you for all your support.

  Rachel Ann Tops, thank you for your encouragement all the time.

  Tracy Beaton, keep calm and love Kendall.

  Shawna Smith, hugs, hugs, and more hugs.

  Emma Allsop, my Perusing Princess, thank you for all you do for me.

  Tia Thomas Blakely, thanks for pimping me.

  Maxine Bennett, where are my hot guy photos? I need more, more, and more.

  Nanee McGee, I saved our original conversations and I still cry at the words you sent me. Just what I needed right then.

  Tamara McDonald, my girl! I got cold feet with Misunderstood and you kicked my ass back into shape. Mistress Dibs and I were so fucking frustrated and I was scared. Thank you for being the shoulder I needed to lean on.

  Joanne Holah, Stretch’s book is coming.

  Shannon Vasquez, I can always count on you to back me up when I’m playing with the guys.

  Melissa Kulis, for rocking my teasers and name all the time.

  Rosarita Reader, always willing to help and knowing how to have a hella good time.

  Andrea Anderson Huseman, big pimpin’ all the way.

  Jamie Lyytikainen, Mandie Rebel and Jeneane Johnston, welcome.

  If I forgot anyone, I’m
so sorry!

  Preface

  Forgiving isn’t forgetting. At the core of forgiveness is the understanding that the hatred and bitterness we hold onto destroys us.

  Forgiving isn’t meekness. It is letting go of the past, living in the present, and paving the way for the future.

  In order to forgive, we must first grieve for what could’ve been and what never was. To forgive others, we must also forgive ourselves.

  Perhaps, that is the hardest forgiveness of all.

  Prologue

  Matthew Taylor stepped out into the balmy Los Angeles morning and squinted against the immediate glare of the sun beaming off the chrome. He halted, his hunger, his damn-near homelessness, forgotten. The most beautiful Harley he’d ever seen sat in the parking lot, not fifty feet from the church entrance. Two men were there, one in the seat, the breeze whipping his black hair back and forth.

  Matthew recognized the other man. Lucas Banks, son of the Reverend Sharper Banks, head of the church Matthew currently slept in at night. He roamed closer to them, just in time to hear the stranger laugh.

  “Yeah, motherfucker, I’m fuckin’ proud to say you ain’t ever able to call me a bitch.”

  Lucas snickered but flipped him off. For a preacher’s son, he was quite fucking wayward. In another time and place, Matthew and Lucas might’ve been friends. But no matter how Matthew looked at it, Lucas came from wealth, had grown up in the church, while, he, Matthew had parents who’d allowed him to fuck from the age of twelve.

  “Fuck you, Outlaw,” Lucas growled, but Matthew heard the humor. “I rode bitch cuz I didn’t have a fucking choice, so stop calling me choirboy the bitch.”

  “Ain’t fuckin’ said that. I said bitch the choirboy. You gonna bang on your fuckin’ drums again now that you back with your old man?”

  Lucas’s gaze fell on Matthew and he scowled before glaring at the huge building behind him. “I’d rather blow this motherfucker up, preferably with Sharper Banks tied to his fucking throne.”

  The man named Outlaw lifted a dark brow in Matthew’s direction, but continued talking. “Fuck it. You get bored, let me fuckin’ know. We can think of some shit. Take this motherfucker down.”

  For the first time, Matthew felt…what? Lost? Fucked-up? All alone in the world with only his dick and his tongue to get him by?

  A knot formed in his stomach and sudden sweat popped off his skin. He needed to call one of the sluts he serviced to get money for food and a dose of Oxy and X. Vicodin. Percoset. Whatever. He didn’t give a fuck.

  Right now, though, he wanted what Lucas and Outlaw had, an easy conversation, thinking about something other than survival. Half-expecting to be rejected, he braced himself for the worst possible outcome and sauntered up to them.

  “That’s a killer fucking hog.” He started off with the obvious. The Harley had first captured his attention, anyway.

  “Matt, son,” Lucas greeted with surprising familiarity.

  Matthew hadn’t known the other man paid so much attention to the goings-on at the church, that he’d notice the stray Sharper had taken in and allowed to sleep in the church hallway, if he did odd jobs around the place.

  “Luke,” Matthew responded, his heart beating hard. They weren’t shoving him away. But they didn’t know he fucked to survive. They didn’t know he knocked back pills to cope.

  Lucas nodded to the green-eyed, black haired fucker who must have enough pussy offered to him to last an eternity. Matthew liked bitches, but even he admitted the biker motherfucker had been graced with fucking unmatchable looks.

  “This Outlaw,” Lucas said with another nod of his head. “And…” His voice trailed off, his attention directed to the bitch getting out of a Porsche and heading for them.

  Average height, she had a beautiful face, her dark skin smooth and flawless. She glanced first at the Harley then touched upon each of their faces, one by one in a slow, careful perusal, her smile bright.

  Lucas stepped between her and the bike, blocking Outlaw from her line of vision. “Charlemagne.”

  “Who are your friends?” she asked on a husky drawl without acknowledging the greeting.

  Uncertainty in his face, Lucas glanced over his shoulder to Outlaw and Matthew before shoving his hands in his pockets and stepping aside to make the introductions. “Outlaw,” he said, leaning his body a fraction to indicate the man in question. “And Matt.”

  Charlemagne’s gaze flickered with interest and Matthew frowned, almost certain he’d seen Lucas and this girl wrapped around each other once or twice, in the few weeks he’d been coming around.

  “Bikers?” she cooed.

  Lighting a cigarette and releasing the smoke after dragging on it, Outlaw spoke into the uncomfortable silence. “Don’t know what the fuck Matt be, but my ass the fuckin’ biker. Why?”

  She shrugged, her nipples beading against her silk top. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a biker.”

  Lucas went rigid, his clenching jaw removing the flicker of hurt.

  Outlaw lifted a brow, his smile…brutal. “Yeah?” he asked in a casual tone, puffing on his cigarette again. He strolled closer to her, his spurs jingling, his leathers enviable.

  Charlemagne drank in the sight of him. Matthew glimpsed Lucas’s face, part disgust and part devastation. Poor bastard. She was probably his first fuck. He was into her and she was into herself as well.

  Outlaw dragged on his cigarette once more, then leaned and blew the smoke in Charlemagne’s face. “Then I hope fuckin’ Luke get to be a biker, bitch,” he growled, then sauntered back to his bike, either not giving a fuck or ignoring how much he’d just shocked the fuck out of everyone…and impressed the fuck out of Matthew. “I’m ready to fuckin’ ride.” He flicked his cigarette on the ground and walked on it, then glared at Lucas. “Ain’t no bitch ever gonna pussify me so fuckin’ much she offer to spread her pussy for another motherfucker right the fuck in front my fuckin’ face.”

  He threw Charlemagne a dirty look and she rolled her eyes.

  “Lucas and I have an understanding,” she said with breezy nonchalance. “I love him and he loves me and, one day, we’ll marry. But I’m only twenty and he’s seventeen, so we agreed to have a little fun. And I want to have fun with you and I always get what I want.”

  “Ain’t my fuckin’ fault you a spoiled fuckin’ cunt.”

  “Outlaw, c’mon, bro,” Lucas said when tears rushed to Charlemagne’s eyes. “It’s fine. She want you to fuck. If you want to do it…”

  Considering Lucas’s offer, Outlaw swept his gaze from her head to her toe, then returned to her and caressed her jaw before taking her face between his hands. “If you ain’t gonna fuckin’ flip if I take her pussy, fine. My fuckin’ condition, though, is you with us, fuckin’ a girl I find for you.”

  Charlemagne gasped and Outlaw smirked at her.

  “Don’t fuckin’ like the idea of your man stickin’ his dick in another bitch, huh?” He swiped at a tear that had escaped her eye, then released her. “Tough shit. Take it or fuckin’ leave it. You want cock from me? I fuck you while Luke fuck another girl, then he fuck you while I fuck the other bitch.”

  She remained silent, so Outlaw turned on his heel. “I’m gonna check on what the fuck Big Joe doin’ with fuckin’ Sharper,” he threw over his shoulder.

  The three of them watched him disappear through one of the doors.

  “Is he always like this?” Charlemagne asked and licked her lips.

  Lucas nodded. “Haven’t known him that long, Char, but, from what I’ve seen of him over the last few days, yes, he is.”

  “So he was serious about his offer?”

  “Yeah,” Lucas said with a bleak sigh, the direction the conversation headed in almost painful on behalf of men everywhere. “I can’t watch you fuck another dude.”

  “Please?” she purred. “We have one year to get other people out of our systems. One, baby. You’ll be eighteen next year and I’ll be twenty-one and we’ll be exclusive to each other for
the rest of our lives.”

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  Matthew should walk away and let Lucas set men back a few hundred years with the fucking sad begging and declarations of love he offered a slut who didn’t deserve it. Matthew had never been in love—didn’t believe in it, would never fall in it—and watching this bullshit made him delirious with happiness he wasn’t pussy-struck behind some bitch.

  “I want Outlaw,” she whined. “You want me happy. Having him in my bed will make me happy so do it. I don’t care how. Just do it. I want him.”

  “Because he’s a biker?” Matthew asked, unable to keep quiet, although not his fucking business. However, in the few short minutes he’d been around Outlaw and Lucas he felt accepted. Besides, he really, really liked Outlaw’s no-holds-barred style. “Or just because Luke don’t want you with him, so you’re determined to get him?”

  “I want him because he’s a biker, but he’s also a man. I’ve had to teach you everything about fucking, Lucas. I need an orgasm from someone who knows how to get me off.”

  Hurt and humiliation clashed on Lucas’s face and he stepped aside without another word, turning his head away as she ran to the door Outlaw had entered. In the two minutes it took for Outlaw to return not one word passed between Lucas and Matthew. Neither of them seemed to know how to get around Charlemagne’s scorn.

  Outlaw clapped Lucas on the back and they bumped fists. “I’m fuckin’ out, Luke. You ain’t gotta have a cunt like Char. Hear me? The world atcha fuckin’ feet.”

  “As long as I do what my father says,” Lucas countered as his phone started ringing. He pulled it from his shirt pocket, then returned it. “That’s my little brother calling. I’ll catch him in a few.”

  “I’m fuckin’ serious,” Outlaw persisted, mounting his bike. “K-P ain’t gonna be happy if your godma tell him you doin’ the same bullshit again that got us down here. That shit gonna get you fuckin’ arrested. What the fuck Sharper gonna do then? What that cunt you all pussy crazy over gonna do? Pretend she don’t fuckin’ know you, that’s what.”