SAVIOUR
A Devil’s Spawn Novel By – Natasha Thomas
Copyright © 2015 by Natasha Thomas
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.
eBook Published and any subsequent Printing done and developed in Australia
First Released, March 28th, 2015
Natasha Thomas
Sydney, Australia
[email protected]
www.facebook.com/NatashaThomasAuthor
Dedication
To my precious daughter Sarah…
Proof that no matter what life throws at you,
No matter how hard your path gets,
There is always light and love at the end of the tunnel.
Remember; it’s the journey that counts, not the way you got there.
eBook copyright ©2015
Natasha Thomas
All rights reserved
By purchasing this eBook it allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading, on your computer, tablet, or other device capable of viewing eBooks. After purchasing, you do not have the rights to; resell, print, distribute, or transfer this book, in part, or whole to any other person via any method currently known, or yet to be conceived, or developed in the future. It may also, not be uploaded, in part or whole, to any file sharing programs, websites, or social media outlets. Being resold, given, or transferred to any other person is in direct violation of the Australian, and U.S. Copyright Laws.
WARNING
This book is a work of fiction, and is written to be taken as such.
Characters, names, road names, motorcycle clubs, places, businesses, towns, events, and incidents are a product of the author’s own thoughts, and imagination. As such, any resemblance to persons living, or dead, actual events, or incidents, past, present, or future, is purely coincidental, and is not in any way intended to offend, upset, or disturb person/s reading its content.
This book is intended for mature audiences aged 18 and over. It contains content that may be viewed as disturbing for some readers, graphic sexual scenes and references, coarse language, and violence.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To my remarkably sexy husband; if you can’t see any of yourself in Tank you need to re-read the book. Your support, control of your endless frustration with me, lack of bed warmer, the need to become a more involved sous chef, and your tolerance of the fact that it is indeed ok to go without boxers for one day because I forgot to wash them is inspirational. I love you more than the words on this page and can only hope you continue to love me even when you have the overwhelming urge to throw my laptop out the window.
My three beautiful children; what can I say, you still annoy me as much as you did yesterday, more than you will today, and I’m sure tomorrow you’ll take that to the next level veering away from annoyance directly into the I’m-going-to-tear-my-hair-out category, but I love you all regardless.
To my sensational cover creator Monica Langley Holloway; again you’ve proved to be supremely talented and irreplaceable (as always), and I’m deeply grateful for the suggestions, edits, teasers, song links, and the hours of patience while I bitch about anything and everything book related and of course everything else under the sun as well.
An extra special thank you needs to be given to the wonderful Mary Orr who tirelessly works to promote and share Indie authors works far and wide. You are a true gem and I can’t thank you enough for all of your hard work and dedication. To all the Facebook pages, and groups that have supported, pimped, uploaded, and encouraged me; thank you. Without you this wouldn’t have been possible.
PROLOGUE
Hunter
Boulevard of Broken Dreams – Green Day
Have you ever kept a secret? One you know will without a doubt destroy your relationships, and with it the trust of the people you care about the most? A secret that you’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t confess to? That’s the position I find myself in now and I’ll be fucked if I can find a way out of it that doesn’t end in pain and suffering for everyone involved.
I promised to tell you how I got myself in this situation, and I will but first you have to know how it got this far in the first place, why I kept my secret instead of just putting it all out there. What drove me to do what I’ve done? I need you to understand and believe me when I say it was never my intention to hurt her. All I wanted to do was love her. But I should have left her alone, that would’ve been the safest thing for both of us, and it might have spared our hearts in the process. The sad thing is; was willing to risk it because I couldn’t bring myself to go the safe route for her, or me.
When I met Priscilla Walker, ait didn’t resemble the love you find in those stupid fucking romance books her and Kendall read. I didn’t fall instantly in love with her. I didn’t know that she would become the centre of my universe, the person I automatically turn to when I need someone to guide me out of the shit-fight in my head. I didn’t want to date her, put her on the back of my bike, or claim her as my ol lady. No. I didn’t see any of that when I looked at her the first time. What I did feel was; lust. Simple all consuming, wet dream inducing, lust. I wanted to rip the clothes off her delectable fucking body and skim my hands along her flesh. Flesh that looks so soft I can only fantasise about how good it feels, using it as jerk off material while I’m in the shower. I wanted to suck on her nipples that top what I can only be described as the most perfect set of tits I’ve ever seen. And I felt an almost a primal desire to taste her mouth, sample the perfect pink lips that taunt me in my dreams making me ache for her day and night.
The thing is; Priscilla was seventeen when I met her and at twenty-seven years old I had no right to be looking, let alone touching the gorgeous teenager. It was a feat in self-control, but I kept my hands to myself and my eyes off her unless I knew she wasn’t watching. After catching sight of Priscilla the first time at the clubhouse just before I was patched in it became automatic to seek her out in the crowds of people at parties and hog roasts. It was rare, her being allowed to attend but that didn’t mean I didn’t look because I did, often. The day she turned eighteen, finally becoming a legal adult, made me feel less like a fucking creepy old man, but regardless that she was no longer off-limits I’d seen too much, done too much in my lifetime, to mean that I had no business getting involved with someone innocent. Someone untouched by the pain and cruelty of human nature. Someone too good for a broken down soldier like myself. Her faith in the world was one of the first things that attracted me to her, it was something I didn’t ever want her to lose, but like everything, that too had an expiration date.
Her outlook on life changed dramatically when a little over a year later her mom and dad, Sally and Jones a member of Devil’s Spawn MC, were killed in a car crash leaving Priscilla and her sister Tilly alone in the world. It was a hard lesson to learn for both of them, losing the two people they loved most in the world. And grief has a way of changing people, and not for the better. I hoped like hell this didn’t happen to either of them but there was no way of knowing until the dust settled and we saw if they came out the other side relatively unscathed.
Priss as she became to all of us, wasn’t the naïve eighteen-year-old college freshman, destined for greatness and more than Blackwater could offer; overnight she matured into a woman with responsibilities, because she had someone depending on her it wasn’t the other way around anymore. She dropped out of college g
etting a job to provide for herself and her sister and the easy-going, laid-back Priss of the past was no more, it was like she morphed into someone completely different and the transformation scared the shit out of me. Don’t get me wrong, Priss can still light up a room, she’s still as extroverted as ever, her sense of humour was alive and well, but she became more serious and a hell of a lot more determined. It wasn’t an altogether bad change; the woman she became was a fucking turn on with her air of authority and take no prisoners attitude. But there were times where I longed for the girl that first caught my eye.
Around this time my interest in her turned from vague curiosity mixed with excessive amounts of fascination to intrigue, admiration for her devotion to her sister, and full-blown attraction. And when I says attraction I really mean desire to make her mine. Yes, she was still only nineteen but in the two years since I’d first taken notice of her Priss had become a woman. One that captured my attention like a moth to a flame, my magnetism to her was that intense. It probably bordered on obsessive at times, the amount of time I spent thinking about her, what she was doing, where she was, but I was getting used to the fact that most likely it was always going to be like this when it came to her. And I was okay with that.
Doing the noble thing, staying away from her got more than a little complicated when I was assigned by Priest to arrange the prospects taking care of her house. The place was too much for her to upkeep while she was seeing to her sister and the club was happy to help. Well most of us were, I was resigned at this point that my lot in life was never going to be easy, and this was just another test. But in the end having to be around Priss almost daily only deepened the feelings I had for her, which was not what I needed, far from it and made it almost impossible for me to keep my hands to myself.
Intrigue developed into desire to be around her more often. My admiration grew to a deep respect of what she was selflessly doing for her sister. And the fact that every day I got to see her in her tiny sleep shorts and tank top, braless was just another check in the positive column. However I may have reconsidered that being a positive when I caught some of the prospects getting a free show of what was without a doubt becoming mine; with my consent or not, that’s what was happening. I pushed it to the back of my mind, ignored it, and hoped it’d go away so I didn’t have to deal with it. And that worked for a while, until it didn’t anymore.
Over the course of the next few years Priss became my best friend, and the woman I yearned for day and night all rolled into one fucking delicious package. In my opinion you’d have to blind not to see how I feel about her, it isn’t like I hide the lingering looks I give her, or can stop the effect she has on my cock. It’s impossible to hide an erection 24/7. I didn’t openly advertise it either but it was plain to see for anyone paying enough attention. The way Priss reacts blushing, giving me shy smiles when I catch her off guard staring at me opened my eyes quickly to the fact I’m not the only one struggling with whatever’s going on between us.
Neither of us has acted on the growing attraction we’re both feeling. We haven’t taken it past platonic friendship which to my disgust is making me have to take three cold ass showers a day, at least to stave off the need to bend her over and fuck the ever loving shit out of her. And even though I haven’t done anything about it doesn’t mean my actions, the way I run off her potential boyfriends, and my need to spend time with her every day doesn’t send mixed signals. And it definitely doesn’t change that my feelings are growing by the day. They’ve gone from all-consuming desire to be near her at all times, to it being a necessity so I can breathe normally.
I have a good reason or two for not diving headfirst into a relationship with Priss, no matter how much I want to. I have a major complication I need to sort out before I can even consider exploring what’s going on between us. This is going to take time, time I don’t want to waste when I don’t hold out much hope of it being resolved quickly, peacefully, or at all actually. There are so many hurdles when it comes to starting anything with Priss that some days they overwhelm me, make everything seem all too hard. There’s so much I have to tell her. Come clean about. Priss needs to be able to make the choice for herself whether she wants to be with me or not, and she can’t do that without all the information. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to say fuck it and claim her without telling her, without laying it all out on the table, because I do. Every day. And now I’m royally fucked. It’s my own fault and it’s all because I pussied out on telling her what she should’ve known all along.
It’s been more than a year, fourteen months if I’m in the mood to be specific since I’ve spoken to Priss. Tilly’s getting more and more pissed at me by the day over the rift between me and her sister. Without being able to tell her exactly why I can’t bring myself to fix this shit between us Tilly and my relationship is deteriorating too. My brothers, blood and club, are asking questions about what happened, what I’m going to do to fix it, not able to answer them either is creating animosity I don’t need and neither do they. Trust is fucking integral between brothers, and in some way they think I’m breaking theirs. I can feel a storm brewing. This shit is about to get ugly, the worst part of it all is, there’s going to be nothing I can do to stop it…
So now the groundwork’s been laid, you’ve got the history, I’m going to give you the rest. I’m not going to start with inflection, maybes or what if? I’m going to lay it all out for you no holds barred. That way you can decide for yourself if I’m the asshole everyone makes me out to be or not. Because there’s no point defending my actions. I made decisions, they hurt people, they were in my complete control, and how I dealt with them is on me and me alone. There’s also no point going all the way back to my childhood, trying to dissect my family, if any traumas I suffered led me to become the man I am today, because there aren’t any.
In short; I come from a family with a mom and dad that are happily married to this day. I’ve got five brothers; one older, four younger. How I feel about them ranges from I want to kick the shit out of them, to them being my best buddies depending on the day. And I lived a life raised in the wealthy Chicago suburbs among the ranks of the elitist upper class. There were no scandals, and no family rifts. For fucks sake, my grandpa lives with my parents’ we’re that tight knit a family. That’s it, the extent of my privileged upbringing. No issues in sight. I’m not a product of my circumstances, or lifestyle. I’m not an innocent bystander, and I wasn’t coerced into anything.
The simple truth is; I hid who I am, and then lied to protect myself. One lie turned into dozens, which turned into completely erasing portions of my history. I became a different man. One based on half-truths, deceit, and manipulation. And is also how I find myself in the unenviable position I’m in now. The position where I might stand to lose everything I love with no recourse but to watch it walk out the door, never to see them again.
Breaking it down; I joined the United States Navy straight out of high school much to my dads’ horror. He wanted me to join the family business, become a lawyer, carry on the family tradition. Yeah, no. He already had one son, my brother Brody on that bandwagon, he wouldn’t get me on it too. Ending up a Navy SEAL and doing four tours of duty was not my original plan. I would’ve been happy with being a grunt, but during selection week I was singled out and the rest is history. As commander of SEAL Team 3, we were deployed to Afghanistan during the ‘War on Terror’, later discharged after a mission went fucking horribly wrong. Something that still has me losing sleep over.
I went home after being discharged, to Chicago bumming around until an agent in charge of a Special Operations Task Force for the FBI tracked me down wanting to recruit me for a undercover work, which would ultimately lead me to Devil’s Spawn MC. Apparently the task force was formed in order to carry out the U.S governments RICO act, (racketeer influenced criminal organisations). In short; the RICO act is a bullshit law created to prosecute, extend penalties and sentences for what they believe to be ongoing criminal or
ganisations, like MC’s for example. It doesn’t matter whether the crime is minor or not, if they can use RICO they will, looks good on the closed case sheet. It can be as simple as having one unregistered firearm and they’ll pin the entire MC on weapons charges, prosecuting heavily under federal law’s so biased against one specific group of people it makes the Nazi reign look like summer camp for Girl Guides.
Before calling the lynch mob hear me out. I didn’t infiltrate Devil’s Spawn with the intention of bringing them down, far from it, they didn’t directly factor at all other than a way into a lifestyle with access to knowledge that wouldn’t have been possible to get otherwise.
My objective was to gather as much information from inside the MC as I could in order to put a stop to the drug-pipeline Satan’s Sons were in the midst of getting off the ground.
I was sought out, due to my background, the fact that I could get in and out undetected, and my ability to assimilate to different situations quickly was paramount to the bureau. Basically I fit the bill better than the paper-pushers the FBI had available at the time, or they couldn’t find anyone else willing to take on two clubs worth of bikers for shit pay, and for even shittier legislation.
I could have left Devil’s Spawn MC free and clear two years into the op with all the Intel I’d collected. It was a fucking goldmine of information. But I didn’t, I stayed and I haven’t regretted it. There’s only one reason for that, the one that keeps me going on my darker days, the times I feel like packing it all in… Priscilla Walker. Later Tilly became almost as important a reason for staying put but that wasn’t until I was already hooked on the bombshell blonde that unknowingly stole my heart, and with it a piece of my soul.
Saviour: A Devil's Spawn MC Novel (Savior Book 3) Page 1
