Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas

by Natasha Thomas

  Slapping my chest, Avery hisses,

  “You are such a shit. You’re lucky I love you Tanner or I’d kick your ass.”

  I’d like to see her try. Hauling around our unborn daughter is hard enough without her having to exert the amount of effort it would take for her to lift her leg. Since I value my safety, and my balls, I keep that piece of information to myself. But Avery knows me well enough to know what I’m thinking.

  “If you say it, then I’m going to smother you in your sleep. I don’t even have to roll over to do that,” she grins back at me.

  Loading Dex, Avery, and the sixty-two bags Avery is adamant we need to make the two-hour trip to see her parents in Blackwater, we’re on the road only fifteen minutes after we should have been. That’s got to be a new record for us. Usually, we’re running, at least, half and hour late for everything.

  This will be the last trip we make to see Saint and Tilly before Harleigh Blaine Scott is born. Avery finds it hard enough being in the car for twenty minutes without needing to stop and find a bathroom, let alone two hours. But this is a special occasion, one she refused to miss. And I don’t blame her. It’s not every day your sister gives birth.

  Neveah and Nick got married a month after Avery and I did. There wedding was a hell of a lot different to ours, though. Neveah had always wanted a big affair; flowers, church, bridesmaids, reception, the works. And Nick being the pussywhipped bastard he is, gave it to her. Not that I wouldn’t have done the same if Avery had wanted that, but that doesn’t mean I would have liked it.

  They weren’t as lucky as we were in the pregnancy stakes, however. Neveah suffered three early term miscarriages, one last-term one – she was six and a half months along – and one stillbirth before finally delivering a healthy baby boy yesterday. And if I know anything about, Neveah, Flynn Tobias Forbes is going to be the most celebrated baby in the history of all babies. Hence, the coming home party Nick’s arranged for her today.

  Looking over at my wife, who’s fallen asleep with her head on the window and her hands protective cradling our unborn baby, and in the rearview mirror at my son out cold in his car seat, I can’t help thinking about how fucking lucky I am.

  Years ago, I would never have imagined this would be my life, that I’d get a second chance at not only love but having a family too. Sure, I had the support and respect of my brothers, but it isn’t the same as having a woman who adores you and a son who thinks you hung the moon.

  If you’d told me then that Avery would be the woman who would give me that chance, I’d have said you’re fucking insane. I wanted this with her, I always have, but not once, then or now, did I think I deserved it.

  But if my wife has taught me anything, it’s this. People don’t deserve second chances because the number of chances you get at happiness should be infinite. And if you love someone, forgiveness isn’t an option, it’s a guarantee. Avery lives that philosophy and now, so do I. There will never come a time I won’t give what we have, her, our lives together another chance because if I didn’t, there would be no us. And that’s not a reality I’m willing to live with.

  Once I thought I lost it all. All of it gone in the blink of an eye. But I was wrong. Because here, in my truck is everything I’ve always wanted and never knew I would have.

  Fury’s Playlist

  Disparity By Design – Rise Against

  When We Stand Together – Nickelback

  Are You With Me – Lost Frequencies

  Hold Back the River – James Bay

  Freak Like Me – Halestorm

  Iris – The Goo Goo Dolls

  People Live Here – Rise Against

  My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark – Fall Out Boy

  Wrong Side Of Heaven – Five Finger Death Punch

  Going Under – Evanescence

  Live Like You Were Dying – Tim McGraw

  Awake – Skillet

  Jonas…

  A Vengeance MC Novel by ~ Natasha Thomas

  Copyright © 2016 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, April 30th, 2016

  Natasha Thomas

  Sydney, Australia

  Email:

  http://www.natashathomasauthor@gmail.com

  Facebook:

  http://www.facebook.com/NatashaThomasAuthor

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  http://natashathomasautho.wix.com/natashathomas

  Goodreads:

  https://www.goodreads.com/NatashaThomas

  Amazon author page:

  http://www.amazon.com/author/natashathomasauthor

  about this book…

  After losing the woman he believes was destined to be his in an act of senseless violence, Jonas Williams is spiraling out of control. With nothing left to hold on to, no anchor in sight, Jonas decides to put everything he’s worked for on the line to seek vengeance for the woman who stole his heart.

  Blaine Adams has never been accused of being a stupid woman, but she is beginning to question her sanity when it comes to the heavily tattooed, intimidating, volatile man she was bound and determined to save. Even if it meant saving him from himself, Blaine refuses to give up on the man in imminent danger of self-destructing.

  When history threatens to repeat itself, claiming Blaine as another one of its victims, Jonas is faced with startling realization that perhaps he hadn’t lost everything after all. Maybe there was still a beacon of hope just within his reach.

  But with time running out before Blaine too is lost to him forever, Jonas must choose between the lesser of two evils. Can he save himself and the woman he has come to care deeply about, or is it safer to live in the darkness that has become his only solace?

  PROLOGUE

  ~ Jonas Williams ~

  “My goal this weekend is to only move enough so people don’t think I’m dead.”

  - Quotes and Humor

  Not all stories end up being fairytales with happily ever afters for all.

  Actually, more often than not, the prince is a douchebag, the princess is a lying, scheming, manipulative bitch, and the story was never really a fucking story to begin with. Instead, it’s a nightmare in which none of the characters could find their way out of.

  You think I’m being melodramatic? Well, how about I summarize the clusterfuck that is my life for you and then you can give me your honest opinion? Don’t sugar coat it for me; I want the straightforward, no holds barred, God’s honest fucking truth.

  Once, I found a woman that meant more to me than any other woman ever has. Aside from my Mom and sisters, that is. I spent years convincing myself that it was only a matter of time before she came to her senses and realized the same thing. That’s not how it worked out, though.

  Just when I thought we were finally getting our shit together, she left me. Not because she wanted to, but because she wasn’t given a choice.

  Bec died in an act of heinous, cruel, senseless violence. She didn’t go quietly into the peaceful sleep that is death. No, Bec was tortured for hours before succumbing to her forever never after.

  I wish I was strong enough to accept her fate – be relieved that she didn’t fight harder to stay here with me for longer – but I’m not. To this day, I still curse God or whoever is listening for taking her from me, and in no small part, Bec too.

  When Bec was laid to rest, I believed I threw my heart in that coffin being buried beneath six feet of earth with her. I was wrong. It wasn’t until recently I learned I still had the capacity to feel. The ability to be broken by emotions I’d all but given up on.

  Now, I’m left with the burning desire to see where these unwanted, better left unearthed feeling lead me. I’ve b
een trying for months to quell the need to act on them knowing that no good can come of it, but for the life of me I can’t make myself hold back anymore.

  This is my story…

  CHAPTER ONE

  ~ Jonas ~

  “After Tuesday, even the calender goes W T F.”

  - Coffee cup

  For a long time after Bec died, I was pissed off at the world. Not with anyone in particular, just everyone in general. I took my feelings out on people who didn’t deserve it, became a recluse, and pretty much stopped going into work.

  That was until a few months ago when my sister, Bella, laid it all out for me, and I began to see what she calls ‘sense.’

  “Jay, you’ve got to snap out of it. The guys at the shop are counting on you, they can’t hold down the fort forever, big guy,” Bella whispered sadly.

  “Not yet, half-pint. I’m not ready yet.”

  Huffing, Bella pushed herself off my couch and came to crouch in front of me.

  “I understand that’s what you think, but it’s not true. You are ready. You’re more than ready to go back. Even if it’s only for a few hours a day, Jay, you have to get back to the real world, and with that comes work.”

  “You don’t understand shit,” I hissed at her. “All of you think you fucking know what I’ve been going through, what I feel, but none of you has the first fucking clue how much it burns her not being here.”

  Shaking her head, Bella’s eyes began to water, making me feel like absolute shit for causing more tears. But this wouldn’t be the first time, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last that I pissed my baby sister off enough to make her cry.

  “No, maybe you’re right, we don’t know, but that’s only because you won’t fucking tell us. I’ve watched you fade away for months, so much so, I can barely remember what the brother I used to love looks like. You’re drowning, Jay. Everyone who loves and cares about you has thrown you a life raft, but it’s like you want to sink. And I’m not the only one who’s gone out on a limb, big brother, and I think you know that too. If you’d just stop pushing everyone away for five seconds, you’d see you’ve got so many people in your corner, it’s impossible for you to fail in getting back to yourself.”

  I couldn’t make my mouth form words, or more aptly, I couldn’t make it form the words she wanted to hear. Why? Because she’s right. Part of me did want to drown in the overwhelming feelings of loss and despair that hammered me from the time I woke up at lunchtime until I finally fell into a restless sleep in the early hours of the morning.

  Standing up, Bella brushes her hands down the legs of her jeans and wipes the tears from her cheeks.

  “No one knows what to do anymore, Jay. We’ve waited, been patient, and tried to talk to you, but nothing’s working. The guys have been telling Blaine and I to leave you alone, give you more time, and if that’s what you need then we’ll do it, but I can’t bear to watch you get worse. If there is a worse, that is.” Taking my hand in hers, Bella waits until I’m looking at her. “I’ll leave you with this. Get your shit together and pull your head out of your ass, big brother. And for Christ’s sake do it soon. There are a hell of a lot of people who care about you, depend on you, and love you that want to see you live again. I won’t keep nagging you or show up on your doorstep to ream you a new asshole again if you promise to at least try. Can you do that; try I mean?”

  Squeezing her hand gently, I mutter,

  “Yeah, half-pint, I can try.”

  “Good, then I suppose I can call off the cavalry,” she grins.

  Groaning, I growl,

  “Who’d you enlist to kick my ass this time? Please tell me you didn’t call Ma again?”

  “Nope,” Bella shrugs. “I did one better. And don’t be such an asshole. Ma loves you and watching you hurt hurts her just as much as it does you.”

  “Who?” I asked with a grimace not wanting to address Ma and how badly I’m fucking up with her right now.

  “Blaine,” my sister offers offhandedly.

  Rolling my head on my shoulders, I consider the fact that it could have been worse. Bella could have called our Mom or Grandma, which would have earned her at least a month ban from my apartment. In the grand scheme of things, I suppose Blaine isn’t too bad of an alternative in the Kick-Jay’s-ass-stakes.

  That is until I see the glimmer of mischief in Bella’s eyes.

  “What are you not telling me?” I prompt.

  Bella snatches her purse up from the corner of the couch, making her way to the door before throwing over her shoulder,

  “I may have forgotten to mention that Blaine called her Mom, Dad, and brothers too, but that’s neither here nor there. If you don’t want to see them, you can just do what you’ve been doing to the rest of us and not answer the door. Up to you, though, big bro. I, however, wouldn’t trust that Tank won’t put his size fourteen boot through your door if you ignore him like you have us.”

  With that, Bella opens and shuts the door behind her with a loud bang, causing me to grip the sides of my poor hungover head.

  *****

  After Tank, Priss, Blaine, and her brothers’ visits – of which there were many in the week they were in town – they gave me a lot to think about. The first of which being; life goes on whether you want it to or not.

  The fact that no one was mentioning Bec’s name anymore wasn’t because they didn’t think about her as I had assumed, it was because they were moving on. Of course, I shouldn’t have been surprised they weren’t; it had been nine months after all. But to me, it felt as if everyone stopped talking about Bec the day we buried her, when in reality, they just didn’t around me.

  That also shouldn’t have come as a surprise seeing as my reaction to hearing it was violent, but, I can’t ignore the fact that it still fucking burns knowing I caused people to withhold their grieving for me.

  Strangely, it was Tank who helped me to understand that Bec may have died, but that doesn’t mean the memories of her did. He made me realize it was okay to close my eyes every night and think about her – something I still do ten months after she was taken from me.

  My dreams are consumed by Bec, and so is every waking moment I’m not consciously distracting myself. Her beauty, her laugh, the way she always knew when to call because I needed to hear her voice;

  I remember it all. I also remember how I found her. The pain etched in her unseeing eyes. The gray pallor of her skin. The lifeless, limp form I dragged from that dark, dingy basement will be forever burned into my brain. Nothing I do can erase those memories, and for the most part, I don’t want to. Reminding myself that life is fleeting and can be taken from us in an instant is all I have to console myself with. That and, using it as a reminder not to let anyone else get too close to me.

  When people look at me, I know they can see it too. I don’t try to hide the depth of my pain, and I won’t. But still, their eyes hold endless questions as to the seriousness of our relationship. None of them can understand why if we weren’t together I’m grieving the way I am.

  However, even though Bec and I weren’t together and we hadn’t been for a long time, it doesn’t mean I didn’t wish every day that was different. Our breakup years before was mutual, seeing as neither of us saw what we had going the distance. And to be honest, at the time, a relationship wasn’t what either of us was looking for. But just because we weren’t together, doesn’t mean her death didn’t destroy something in me; it did. I just don’t quite know exactly what broke just yet, and I’m not sure I want to find out if it hurts this fucking much.

  *****

  When I met Beth, Boss’ woman at a tattoo conference over a decade ago, we hit it off. For all of about five minutes, I considered seeing if she’d be up for a casual friend with benefits arrangement, but after talking to her, I knew we’d never be anything more than good friends. Just friends. Always friends.

  A few months after that initial meeting, I had business to see to in L.A., so I called Beth to find out if she wouldn�
��t mind me crashing on her couch for a few nights. We’d exchanged numbers and kept in touch – albeit sporadically – but Beth had said if I was ever in town to give her a call and she’d put me up.

  When the call came in, Beth didn’t think twice, she messaged me her address, and I was standing on her doorstep the very next morning. That was the day I met Bec. That was the day I met the woman I would use to banish the thoughts of someone else from my head. Someone I couldn’t have.

  Since Beth was working the early shift at the tattoo shop she was employed at, she was in bed by ten most nights, leaving me at a loose end. I’m a night person, not usually going to bed until one or two in the morning, at least. And thankfully or not, depending on how you look at it, I wasn’t bored for long. Bec came home that first night, dropped down onto the couch beside me, and told me to pick a movie.