Mike (Devil's Tears MC Book 2)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Mike
By
Daniela Jackson
Devil’s Tears MC Book 2
Copyright © 2017 by Daniela Jackson
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Description
Mike
Daisy is my president’s daughter.
She’s eighteen.
I’m twenty-eight years older than her.
***
An old wolf seeking redemption.
A young wolf seeking love.
The Devil’s Tears MC will shatter and rise.
Explicit and dark content that may not be suitable for some readers. For adult audiences only.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Excerpt
Excerpt
Prologue
Mike
“A trained woman,” I say.
Thunder’s eyes gleam as he lights a cigarette. “How old is she?”
“Twenty-seven.”
Lizzie wriggles like an animal with rabies so I hook the back of her neck and squeeze. She groans and falls to her knees. The sticky tape on her mouth wavers in rhythm with the movements of her cheeks.
“I’m forty-seven,” Thunder says with a hint of humour.
“She’ll entertain you, brother.”
“I’ll bet she will entertain me.”
I slap a wad of money into his hand.
“I’m buying her,” Thunder says as his bushy grey eyebrows raise a notch.
“Yep, but I’m paying to keep her mouth shut. Forever.”
“We’ve got a deal,” Thunder says firmly and we shake hands.
It’s done.
I should be relieved, but I’m not.
My friend asked me for a big favour.
My friend is a Russian mobster who once saved my ass. He took me out of jail. I would have been sentenced to life in prison if Dimitri hadn’t helped me—
A job came in—that was when I was a young private investigator—a job called ‘a cheating husband’—that one fucking job. His wife was a psycho, but I didn’t realise it until we fucked and I wanted to leave her house. The bitch wanted me to marry her and she accused me of raping her when I refused. She was very convincing and I ended up behind bars.
Dimitri visited me in prison. I’d never seen him before.
“Did you do this?” he asked instead of saying ‘hello’.
“No,” I said.
He looked at me and nodded. “I need you.” He nodded again. An evil grin crossed his face. “You know who that woman was? The one who put you in jail?”
“A crazy bitch?”
“A very crazy bitch. My business associate’s relative. She tried to do this to my brother, Kolya. Suka yebana.” He grinned and chills went down my spine. “You know who I am, son?”
“A crazy dick?”
“They call me Samael, but you can call me Dimitri. I’m taking you out of here.” He ran his fingers through his short black hair. “From now on you’re in the deep shit on my side.”
I knew my life was going to change forever.
He took me out of jail and I found his daughter.
A few years later, his toy, Lizzie, started causing trouble so he asked me to off her.
I threw her into the boot of my car and sold her to the Devil’s Tears MC instead.
She will be alive. She will keep quiet.
I slap Thunder on the back and ride off, but I know I’ll be visiting the Devil’s Tears’ compound regularly.
Each time, I see Lizzie, an ulcer on my heart reopens and oozes poison into my veins.
I lied to my family. I failed them.
I couldn’t off a woman.
I never regretted that Dimitri had taken me out of jail. He gave me a home. He gave me a family. He gave me a purpose.
He will give me something else.
Chapter 1
Mike
I breathe in the mystical harsh aura of the Pyrenees as my eyes sweep over the house in front of me. The white exterior walls reflect the bright sun’s rays, and the windows armed with brown shutters stare back at me like real eyes. If I remember correctly, the house is three-stories high and has eight bedrooms and five smaller rooms in the basement with three more in the attic. Bikes and cars are parked around it. I see plates from the UK, Spain and Greece.
I run my hand down the front of my cut. It’s old. Worn out like me. I’m forty-six. I feel like I’m sixty-six.
A smile parts my lips. The name ‘Shadow Wolves MC’ suits us perfectly. We are scattered, hidden in the shadows but at the same time, united like a real pack of wolves.
I jump off my bike. My plate is from the US. Somebody has to keep an eye on the Voronin Bratva residing there, after all.
I walk towards the front door, huff out, and knock on it. Zane opens it for me.
“Long time no see,” he says and waves his hand at me, a wide grin crossing his face.
“Four years?”
“Something like that.”
The sound of laughter and chattering settles in my ears as I walk in and Zane hugs me, slapping me on the back. I squeeze the soft toy under my arm.
“How old is your daughter now?” I ask.
“It’s Daisy’s eighteenth birthday today.”
Ice fills my veins. “Fuck, Zane. I bought her a toy. I didn’t realise she was so big.”
Zane chuckles. “She’s not very big, but yes, she’s eighteen.” He huffs out. “Daisy loves those rats from you. She keeps them all in her bedroom. Don’t worry, man. She’ll be happy with another plush rat.”
Relief washes over me.
I’m not good with kids but surprisingly, my brothers’ kids have always been excited to be around me. I have no children of my own; I never wanted any. Or maybe I haven’t met the right woman who could make me want that whole shit called a family with two kids.
Another reason is that maybe my life is too shitty to even think about having kids. I’m an old broken mess.
Zane guides me along the corridor as my eyes sweep over Sive’s paintings interrupted by the photo frames on the white walls. Then we enter the living room. My whole family has gathered there under two majestic crystal chandeliers that cast rainbows on the walls. They rumble their greetin
gs like a horde of old lions as I stand in the middle of the room and roam my eyes over them. Boulder and Blaze look like Santa Claus’s brothers. Axel could still play a villain in a horror movie. Gunner Senior seems to be even longer than he was and Dimitri’s hair resembles salt and pepper mixed together.
The women are beautiful as always.
Rey is sitting in an antique armchair. She flashes me a smile, pale, ghost-like. Translucent like her fragile, unearthly beauty. If she’d been born in the Middle Ages, she could have been suspected of witchcraft. Sive looks at me like she’s a real Valkyrie, which contradicts her occupation; she’s our family lawyer. I’ve always wondered how Axel manages to keep her by his side. They’re like an inferno clashing with God’s legion, like darkness and light.
Athena smirks at me like she’s a real goddess. I’ve always liked her curves. I don’t like her obsessions though.
Brianna smiles at me like a hot fairytale princess as always. I wonder how many sarcastic comments I will hear from our family humanist tonight. Carrie’s red hair burns like a real fire. Gunner Senior is a lucky man. Redheads are hot. I like redheads and I like Carrie, but she’s so shy we never talk much. Amanda and Maria are bustling around the guests as always. Hell yeah. I can smell the food they’ve been cooking. There’ll be a royal feast.
Yep, every woman is unique. I’ve spent enough time talking to Sive so I could adopt her visualisation of our family.
The kids have grown. I barely recognise them.
Jax slaps me on the back.
“Like a fucking circus?” Jax says.
“Sort of,” I say.
“Good to see you, man,” Jax says.
“Mike,” somebody squeaks behind me.
I recognise that thin annoying voice at once. It belongs to Daisy, the Squeaker, or Daisy, the Rat.
I turn around and step back. My eyes fix on Daisy, my hands spread, palms facing the ceiling. My jaw drops. I’m staring at Daisy. Except she’s not Daisy.
A piece of red fabric mimicking a dress barely covers her body instead of a pair of jeans and the oversized hoody she always wears. She has beautiful tits, hinted by the plunge neck, but, fucking hell, she shouldn’t have any tits. She’s too young to have tits. Something is also wrong with her lips. She shouldn’t have such full seductive lips.
I’m stunned.
“Mike,” Daisy squeaks and her grey eyes fill with joy.
She moves closer to me and kisses both my cheeks. Her smell hits me hard, engulfs me like a tantalising shawl. Vanilla and her own musk, sweetness and fierceness; the vibes of her scent make my skin prickle.
Her lips curl into a bright smile that pisses me off like never before.
Daisy has always been the most annoying kid in the family. The nosiest kid in the family.
She demanded that I played with her in the sandpit in Chaviva’s garden and if I refused, she’d plead to the point where I wanted to throw her into the basement and leave her to rot.
She wanted me to read books for her and I learned all the rhymes and lullabies, even though I had a hangover most of the time.
At the age of twelve, she announced that she’d marry me.
At the age of fourteen, she started avoiding me.
Then I went travelling.
“You bought me another rat,” she says with humour, her light olive cheeks tinged with redness.
I hand the toy to her. “A plush rat for a real rat. Happy birthday, Daisy.”
Daisy tosses back her long brown hair, and I stifle the urge to throw a blanket onto her. Or to twist her neck. Or to bend her over the table and drive my cock into her cunt from behind.
I didn’t just think about it.
“Thank you,” she says and beams at me.
Our glances meet. Her eyes darken like a storm cloud similar to Zane’s eyes when he is pissed off. She has Brianna’s thick asymmetric eyebrows, but Zane’s shade of hair—with an ashen tinge—a waterfall of hair. I shouldn’t have noticed that. Fucking hell. I need a drink.
Zane hands me a can of beer and I settle myself into the red leather couch between Boulder and Blaze. A perfect seat for such old gits as us.
It’s nice as always. There’s a beautiful birthday cake, blowing out candles, singing in four different languages, laughter and love. The food arrives on the table and we reminisce about old times. Then it stops being nice because my personal rat sits beside me and starts asking me questions.
“Where have you been, Mike?” Daisy twitters. “Four years. Where did you travel?”
“Here and there.”
“So where, exactly?”
“Peru, Thailand, Russia. The US.”
I was in the army for six months, but she doesn’t need to know about this. I don’t want to remember this either. I hid this deep in my mind—they kicked me out for drinking while on duty. It’s called a dishonourable discharge—another stain on my almost non-existent honour.
“I’ve always wanted to visit Peru.” She sighs and pulls the edge of her dress to cover her perfect thighs.
I haven’t seen her thighs. She has no thighs. She can’t have nice thighs. She’s no woman, after all.
The women decide to go for a walk and I exhale with relief. The rat is not going to annoy me for an hour or two.
I want to get drunk, but my beer somehow tastes like urine and vodka makes me feel nauseous.
Zane and I move to the kitchen and we stand at the door leading to the balcony.
“You okay?” Zane asks.
I salute him, but the truth is, I’m not okay. Something is wrong with me, but I can’t tell what exactly.
I should say my goodbyes and leave the house as soon as possible. Zane is my best friend, my club brother, and his daughter is pissing me off to the point where I want to hurt her.
“Visit us more often,” Zane says.
“I hate your kids. No offence.” I huff out. “How is Rey?”
“She’s fine for the majority of the time. Nights are sometimes difficult. She’ll wake up and scream and only Brianna can soothe her. Dimitri is kind of impatient with her. You know how he is. Everything must be his way. But Rey and he are good now.”
“They’re old.”
“We’re old too.”
I chuckle. “Did you think about the place for our final rest?”
“Ma wants to build a tomb here. Like a creepy family tomb.”
“I don’t know yet whether I want company in my grave or not, but the place is beautiful.”
“How’s your divorce?” Zane changes the topic abruptly.
“Fine. I’m happy I don’t have to see that bitch ever again.”
Yep. I’ve tried to live like a normal being and I put a claim on one of the club whores from the MC I once visited.
I tried really hard to make our marriage work, but my ex wife was always unhappy. I didn’t communicate enough, I had too many secrets, I drank too much alcohol. I wasn’t emotional enough, I wasn’t gentle enough. I wasn’t interesting enough. She hated travelling and I loved it. Fuck her.
“Let’s have a drink to your divorce then.” Zane slaps me on the back.
“I’m actually going to clear off, Zane.”
I know he is disappointed, but his face does not betray any emotions. I’m a Nomad, and I watch over my family this way. This is how things are.
I dig my hand into the pocket of my cut and hand him the white envelope with the letter I wrote for him. “The reports. No need to be concerned at the moment.”
He nods at me several times. “Brianna will pack some food for you.”
“That’s a good idea.” I slap his arm and go to say my goodbyes to the boys.
Ten minutes later, Brianna hands me a plastic food container and I walk out of the house. The sky is grey. Delicate streaks of silver mist layer the ground as a chill creeps under my cut. I jump on my bike and start the engine then pull forward along the asphalt road. Farther and farther from the yearning such gatherings always bring to my heart.
I love them all.
I grew up in six foster families and I’d always craved to be a part of such a family as Zane’s.
A tiny form crosses the road in front of me, making me brake abruptly. My bike lies down on the side as I fling myself towards that person.
“Are you fucking mad?” I yell.
“I’m sorry,” Daisy shrieks.
“Go back to the house. For fuck’s sake. I could have run you over.”
“I just wanted to say my goodbyes.”
“Goodbye. Now go back to the house.”
She shakes like a leaf in autumn, but doesn’t move.
“For fuck’s sake. You are always so annoying, Daisy.”
“And you’re always so mean, Mike.”
I’m speechless. My hands spread as I step forward and she steps back. Then we stand in an awkward silence like two predators ready to rip each other’s throat out at any moment as something thickens between us. It grows in strength, boils and threatens to explode.
“Go. Home.” I roll my fingers into fists.
“Why don’t you want to stay for a while like all the others?” she hisses.
“Maybe I hate your never ending questions, huh? Jeez, Daisy, you’re even more fucked up than I remember.”
It’s not true. She’s not fucked up. She’s like a refreshing breeze, light and full of joy. Absolutely adorable.
“How can you even remember anything,” she says with anger. “You were either drunk or away.”
“That’s enough,” I say.
She cringes into herself at the harsh tone of my voice and my insides melt.
“I’m sorry, okay?” I step forward and put my hands on her arms, stroking them up and down. “Go back to the house. It’s very cold.”
She sniffles. “Stay, Mike. For a day or two. Please.”
“Why?”
She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she raises her palm and cups the side of my face, and I feel like a saint is touching me. It’s almost physically painful to me, but liberating at the same time.
“Don’t do this, Daisy.”
“Why?”
I don’t answer. Instead, I lean in and cover her mouth with mine. My whole world shatters. I die to be reborn at once. Everything changes forever.