by Colt, Shyla
Dueling Devils M.C. book
Warped
Shyla Colt
Playlist
Centuries: Fallout Boy
Counting Stars: One Republic
Demons: Imagine Dragons
Sweet Nothings: Calvin Harris Ft. Florence Welch
Stay With Me: Sam Smith
Bottom of the River: Delta Rae
Love song: 311
Open your Eyes: Snow Patrol
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses and incidents are from the author’s imagination, or they are used fictitiously and are definitely fictionalized. Any trademarks or pictures herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form (electronic or print) without permission from the author. Please do not participate in piracy or violating the author’s rights.
Editor: Leanore Elliott
Cover Artist: Dreams2media
Photo by: The Reed Files
©Shyla Colt, January 2015
Dedication
To my amazing readers who give their incredible support, my family who puts up with my late night writing sprints, especially the Mr. who shares me with the bevy of characters who live in my head.
CHAPTER ONE
Taffy paused at the end of her living room and glanced up toward the entry.
Lefty and Gia stood by the door, whispering to one another. The six-foot plus biker had his large hand wrapped around Gia's waist. He stood at an angle.
The couple made her sick. She rolled her eyes at the protective position. Like she needs protection from me. Imaginary slivers of glass cut her from the inside out. She has everything and I have lingering nightmares along with a face not even a mother could love. Jealousy reared its ugly head. Gia's done well for herself in so many ways. It’s not her fault this happened to me. We both knew the risks and took them. The rational side of her brain understood, but her heart. That traitorous organ had become twisted, black and irrevocably damaged.
Being used was nothing new. From the day she hit sixteen, when her virginity was auctioned to the highest bidder, her body had become nothing more than a tool to keep her fed and clothed. She could deal with that. It’d been another thing entirely to be abused and beaten down so low mentally and physically, she never got a chance to catch her breath. Life after she'd been caught trying to escape had been hell on earth. Every day she woke, expecting to find herself trapped in a ring of fire. Feeling like a voyeur, she cleared her throat.
Lefty looked up at her and scowled.
I don’t like you much either. Mentally Taffy smirked.
Gia’s face clouded over with a troubled look.
Her joy at her previous best friend’s discomfort broke open the scabs she wore on the inside. She knew something was wrong with her, but she didn’t know how to fix it. The best thing to do for everyone was to stay away. “I think we’re all done here,” she stated. The smallest piece of her that had survived screamed out in protest. Don’t leave me alone. Please help me. Taffy drowned out the sorrowful pleas by wrapping herself in the blankets of bitterness, anger and indifference. I need to do this on my own. Gia has already done more than she should have. I will not be a burden.
“Are you sure you have everything you need?” Gia asked. Her eyes searched Taffy's face.
Taffy wondered what exactly she hoped to find. “This is more than I’ve had in a long time.”
Gia glanced down.
The gesture made Taffy feel like an asshole. Every word from her mouth was a sharp razor blade that slashed Gia, the only person who gave a damn about her. The sooner they leave, the better.
“If you’re sure.” Gia held her gaze.
Taffy remained silent.
“Okay. If you need anything, you have my cell. Chase is the super, so to speak. She’ll be checking in with you sometime today and giving you the run down. Mostly, my girls live here, but there are some bikers. They’re all Dueling Devils, or guests. They won’t come at you crazy.”
“Any man who thinks he won’t get caught, will come at a woman, any way she’ll let him.”
Gia’s face fell like a cake in an oven. “Not everyone is like that—”
“Enough of them are,” Taffy snapped.
“I want you to feel safe, Taffy. I would never leave you somewhere you might be in danger.”
Good luck with that. “No one can make me feel safe, Gia. That’s long stripped from me. “
They stared at each other in a stalemate. Gia wanted her to be someone who’d died the night she escaped the island in order to survive. Taffy had buried all the softness. Taffy glanced away first, conceding victory for the staring match.
“I’ll be back later this week and we’ll see about getting you a job?”
“Yes, please,” Taffy said. Being beholden to anyone made her feel antsy.
“Alright. We’ll leave you in peace then.”
The uncertainty in Gia’s voice did funny things to her stomach. She hadn’t felt anything more than contempt, fear and numbness for so long. It was like submerging a frostbitten limb into hot water. She shrank away from the foreign sensation that burned her.
Lefty guided Gia out of the apartment with a hand on the small of her back.
Seeing the tattooed giant be so gentle perplexed her. How can a dangerous outlaw be so soft at the same time?
The door closed behind them with a click.
Taffy locked the door and silence echoed in the dwelling. She rested her head against the cool metal as relief flooded through her body. This was her peace, solitude, silence and only her company. She pushed away from the door and went to explore her place. The one-bedroom was more than adequate for her needs. It came fully furnished with a soft, dark grey couch that felt like suede, an accent chair with grey and yellow flowers and a 34-inch TV that rested against the wall.
To the left, a dining area held a circular walnut-stained wooden table for two and a tiny but efficient kitchen with new appliances. The walls were a warm off-white, and an inch long beige carpet was clean and soft looking. She toed off her sneakers, beside the couch and walked the floor. The soft strands of carpet gave under her feet. A short walk down the hallway led to a small bathroom with a mid-sized tub, shower and sink. The light yellow walls reminded her of sunshine and the white fabric in front of the clear shower curtain gave it a homey feel.
She closed her eyes, pulled back the rusty door on her supply of hope and let herself dream. This is a new start. Long lost optimism rose inside her like a bird with a freshly healed wing while flexing the still bruised appendage. Please let this work for me. It's my last chance. If she couldn’t get it together and they sent her packing, she had nothing and nowhere to go. None of that matters. Above all, I’m a survivor. I will do what I have to as long as it keeps a roof over my head and enough space to finally live.
Better for her mental pep talk, she straightened and continued down the small hall to her bedroom. The room was petite, yet held everything she needed. A queen-sized bed with a flowery comforter and a white sham rested in the center of the room. The ordinariness stole her breath. Everything she wanted sat in front of her, delivered on a silver platter. A small white desk sat against the far wall and matched the small dresser. Soon, her closet would be full of clothes of her choosing. She ran her hands over the smooth wood of the dresser, dreaming of the day she could count herself as independent.
A deep breath brought fresh air into her lungs. There was no cloying incense, perfume, or cologne. No walls opened up to reveal a playroom. She could still smell the sce
nt of leather and feel the sting of the flogger on her flesh. She didn’t mind pain when it was meant for pleasure. The torture intent to break her, killed most of her soul and a vast majority of that had been mental.
In those moments where she wanted to lay down and die, she focused on thoughts of Larissa happy and at peace to stay sane. At first, the escape had been positive. The thought that her friend had escaped and was living a life free without fear had been a circle of light in the darkness. Until—it wasn’t. When the hope dried up and shriveled like rotting fruit, the happiness went sour and turned into acidic bitterness. Guilt streaked through her. She’s the one who put me in up here.
A knock sounded at the door.
She jumped. Tension made her shoulders tight. Her muscles gave a twinge of pain. She walked to the door and peered out the peephole.
A slender woman stood there. She had shoulder-length dark blonde hair that framed a tan oval-shaped face with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass and sky blue eyes hardened by experience.
The woman wore a look Taffy knew well. Keeping the chain on, she opened the door. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Taffy? I’m Chase.”
The name clicked in her memory. “Of course.” She removed the chain and stepped back. “Come on in.”
Chase complied and shoved her hands into her black skinny jeans. “You settling in okay?”
“Yeah, the place is great.”
Chase nodded. “It is. We’re lucky to stay here. Not every place here is so nice or protected. I run a tight ship here. Someone gets out of line or comes at you wrong, I want to know about it, so they can be taken care of.”
Her voice sounded low and serious. It commanded respect and planted a seed of belief. She looked like a woman who stood by her word.
“I will.”
“Good. Mostly, we don’t have too many problems. Not with the regulars. Sometimes, a Nomad or a brother from another chapter comes in and we have to set him straight.” Chase shrugged her shoulders. “It’s part of the life.”
“Life in the fast lane.”
“You get wise or get run the fuck over.”
Taffy snickered. Chase reminded her of the girls back home. The older ones who’d been around long enough to see how things flowed down the pipeline. They had a sisterhood. No one could understand what they’d been through like each other. Sometimes, your sister having your back could be the difference between life and death. The thought pushed her to leave her comfort zone. “I get the feeling we learned that lesson a long ass time ago.”
Chase tilted her head back and studied her. “Yeah, I think we did. Are you going to be around awhile?”
“No other place to be,” Taffy admitted.
“You got a gig yet?”
Taffy shook her head. “I wish. I plan on looking later this week.”
“What can you do?”
“Whatever’s necessary,” Taffy said.
They exchanged a look. A kinship sprang up between them.
“You know, Demon called the other day looking for someone to work in the office at the garage. The girl at the shop got into it with a guy she was dating and split. Can you do office work?”
“I can work a computer and learn the rest.”
“It’s easy shit. Keeping track of appointments, running the cash register. If you have sticky fingers, I’d advise against it. Demon doesn’t play about his money or give second chances.”
“I’m not a thief,” Taffy snapped.
Chase held up her hands. “Don’t kill the messenger. I’m covering my ass. If I vouch for you without asking this shit, I’d be putting my ass on the line with no backup.”
Taffy nodded. “I can do this.”
“Let me talk to him and I’ll get back to you. I work there. It’d be nice to have another girl who’s not a spaz with me.”
“You work in the office?” Taffy said, shocked. The girl had a wild streak a mile long. Picturing her in a buttoned-up suit with perfectly coifed hair did not fly.
Chase tilted back her head and laughed. “Hell no. Nine to five, answering phones and dealing with people ain’t my style. I work on the bikes.”
Impressed, Taffy studied her closer. Her average height, lanky build along with the cool and collected manner must be a mirage. To survive in this world, doing what the other men did, she must have a core of steel.
“My old man taught me. He used to ride and I grew up in a place very similar to this one. I came across them one day, and then just never left.”
“Why leave your life?”
“Things got bad and I got ghost.” She shrugged. “Home’s more than a set of coordinates. So, I’ll go make that call and get back to you. You have anything to wear, if he tells you to come in tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Hmm, we might need to go shopping then,” she said more to herself than to Taffy.
She watched her face as her eyes narrowed. She could practically see the wheels turning in Chase’s head.
“I’ll work it out. Give me like fifteen.” Chase turned around.
“Wait.”
She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Why are you so nice to me?”
Chase's eyes widened. “All I did was give you a shot. Everything after that is up to you. This is the same agreement the Dueling Devils offered me once. I figured I’d pass that along. Unless you object.”
“No.”
“Good, I’d hate to find out I was already wrong about you.” She winked and strode to the door with a confident strut that made her long legs seem endless. The red tennis shoes she sported were a splash of color against the landscape of black she wore from head to toe.
Part of her wanted to think she’d found her a new friend, but she refused to be that gullible. Time will tell if Chase is friend or foe. For now, she’s a means to an end. If I’m going to start this off right, I need a new identity….Symone. I always loved that name.
* * * *
“Did you hear…we’re getting a new girl?”
Monster glanced up at his brother and shook his head. “Wasn’t it enough you ran Sarah off? How about you take a breather on the girls we have to work with?”
“Oh, come on, dude. Sarah was fun while she lasted.” Pan grinned roguishly. Aptly named after the never aging child-king, Peter Pan, his brother always looked to the bright side of things. His birth certificate might say thirty-five, but Monster would pin his mentality at about eighteen. They’d both dealt with the fire in their way. Pan decided to focus on the fun things in life, no matter what that cost everyone else.
Monster didn't have that option. It’s easy when your face isn’t completely fucked. Sometimes, looking at Pan was painful. Seeing the once identical face that now mocked him with its pristine condition. He’d been lucky to get out with his life, but the price he’d paid to live was high. He ran his fingertips over his textured cheek.
“You need to lighten up, Monster. It’s like you’re a fifty-year-old trapped inside a younger man's body.”
“Maybe it’s to balance out your younger man in a young man’s body syndrome.”
“Touché,” Pan joked. He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.
Monster shook his head. Despite being identical, there were night and day.
“Seriously, though, I’m worried about you.” Pan’s voice dropped an octave.
“What’s to worry about?”
“Plenty. When’s the last time you smiled, or got laid for that matter?”
“I didn’t realize my sex life was so concerning.” Monster tightened the bolt, gripping the wrench hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
“No, your lack of one is.”
Not so easy to get laid when half your body disgusts most women. “Not all of us need it on the daily.”
“Bullshit, this isn’t about frequency and you know it.” Pan pointed at him.
Monster growled in the back of his throat. “Can we not do this? Your argument is wea
ring thin and getting on my last nerve.”
“So’s your refusal to live your life.”
Monster looked up at him. “This is me living the best way I know how. You want me to say it for you? I freak women out. You think I can get my rocks off while she’s cringing and staring at my disfiguration? It’s not a good time for me.”
“What are you talking about? The biker bunnies are lined up to get in bed with you.”
“To get to you, or because they think I’m an easy way to old lady status. Their eyes are dead. Would you want to sleep with someone forcing themselves to be with you?”
The light left his brother's blue eyes and he mentally swore.
“Look I’ve accepted my fate. Maybe it’s time you do too. I can’t be like you, Pan. The sooner you accept that, the easier things will be for the both of us.” Monster broke eye contact and returned to repairing the bike they’d been restoring post-accident.
“And just like that, I’m dismissed?”
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” Monster shrugged.
“That you’re going to start living, dammit.” Pan kicked his creeper across the garage.
Monster bowed his head. It always got tense between the two of them around this time of year, when the anniversary came around.
“Who determines what’s living? I have a job I fucking love, a family who’s willing to die for me and always has my back and when I need it. I have pussy.”
“But you’re not happy. Don’t you see that’s why I keep hashing this out with you? I can see it in your eyes, brother. It’s like you’re never fully here with me and that eats me up inside. If it hadn’t been for me—”
“No.” Monster cut him off. “Saving you was second nature. You would’ve done the same thing and you know it.”
“Yeah, but look at what it cost you. I’m the one who has to live with that.”
“There’s nothing to—”
The door to the front of the shop opened and the alarm beeped. Monster exhaled. “We’ll finish this talk later.”
Pan nodded and walked away.
