MARK OF A SCARRED WARRIOR
IRON DOGZ MC BOOK FIVE
RENÉ VAN DALEN
MARK OF A SCARRED WARRIOR
Iron Dogz MC Book Five
Copyright © 2020 René Van Dalen
ISBN 978-0-620-89723-5
Cover Design Danielle Burrows Art
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Cover Copyright 2020 Danielle Burrows Art
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All rights reserved. In accordance with the U S Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author's rights.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons living or dead is coincidental.
Warning: This book contains graphic language, violence, abuse and sexual content. Intended for mature audiences, 18 years and older.
DEDICATION
Close to my heart as always
13 1 13
Turbo
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
The Hollow Men
By
T S Elliot
AUTHOR’S NOTE
As with my previous books I want to warn you, my reader, that this book has triggers for sensitive readers. It contains graphic language, sex, violence, human trafficking, animal abuse and a traumatic pregnancy loss.
Please, be aware of the above triggers before you continue.
I’ve translated most words as the book unfolds, but some might have slipped through. Please check the glossary at the back of the book if you find one of those slippery little words.
So many things are happening around the Iron Dogz right now. I hope it doesn’t confuse or irritate you that more than one point of view is being used in the book. The voices in my head were very insistent on being heard.
And that’s my job, isn’t it? To tell the stories of a group of rough, raw and wonderfully flawed men and their women. I love my job!
Come and enjoy a walk on the dark side with me.
AND FINALLY
The big, dangerous and slightly unbalanced dog in this book was modeled on our Turbo. We lost him in March, and Brutus is his alter ego. Turbo loved his family but hated everyone else, human or animal he didn’t discriminate. We belonged to him and he refused to share. Very few people made it onto his friends list.
We miss him every single day.
Rest Easy Baby Dog.
CONTENTS
DEDICATION
AUTHOR’S NOTE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
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
COMING UP NEXT
OTHER BOOKS BY RENÉ VAN DALEN
THE IRON DOGZ MC
PLAYLIST
GLOSSARY
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CONNECT WITH RENÉ VAN DALEN
PROLOGUE
Scar
Grateful to be finally home Scar slowly rode up his driveway, frowning at his brother’s bike parked under the carport.
What the hell was he doing here? Parking behind him he kicked out the kickstand, settled his bike, unstrapped and pulled off his helmet then swung a leg over and stretched his aching muscles.
“What the hell is he doing here? He’s supposed to be on duty at the compound.” Claw growled as he unstrapped his helmet and got off his bike.
“No idea. Let’s get in there and find out.” Scar sighed. “I wouldn’t put it past Gigi to call him to fix whatever she’s broken again. Anything electronic she touches she fucks up.”
One step inside his house and anger started burning like wild fire in his gut. There were bottles, glasses and take away boxes scattered around his usually spotless lounge. It was very fucking obvious there had been a party, and the panties hanging from the light fixture and the used condoms discarded on the floor told him it had been wild.
That’s when he heard it. The sounds of fucking and whoever it was they were loud. He knew what he was going to find. He fucking knew. With his gut clenching and breathing like he had just swum kilometres out to sea and back to the beach he stalked down the passage to the bedroom.
Claw tried to hold him back but Scar ripped himself away from his Road Captain and continued down the passage. The door was partly closed and he shook his head when Claw once again tried to pull him back. His RC gave him a long stare, nodded and pulled his phone out, why he did Scar didn’t know and didn’t care either. Quietly pushing the door open he stalked into the bedroom, a bedroom he had been sharing with his wife for the last three years. What met his eyes was like something out of a porno movie.
Gigi was on her elbows and knees, ass in the air. Pesto, his own fucking brother, was kneeling behind his wife, fucking her hard and fast while shoving a pink dildo in and out of her ass. Gigi was howling and shoving her ass back hard. They were so into what they were doing they didn’t realise they had an audience. He stood frozen as he watched his brother and his wife. Claw stepped up next to him and that’s when he realised his RC was recording it. Evidence, he realised. Looking at the shit happening on the bed the last tiny bit of affection he had felt for Gigi shrivelled up and died and became ice cold disgust. He had never loved his wife but he had liked her enough when he married her. Now…nothing, nothing at all.
He was done, so fucking done. And this betrayal by Jeremy was just the latest in a long list of betrayals by his younger brother. He was done with him too.
Stepping up to the bed he grabbed him by the hair and ripped him off Gigi, throwing him on the floor. His glistening cock was another insult to Scar.
The fucker wasn’t wearing a condom. He had been fucking the bitch bare.
Rage unlike he had ever felt before boiled over. Leaning down he grabbed the bastard up off the floor, again by his hair. The piece of shit dared to laugh at him.
Laughed. At. Him.
Staring into the bastards’ eyes he watched as bravado and laughter became fear. He enjoyed seeing it. Relished it. He could almost taste the fear as he dragged in a breath. And then the man who was his brother by blood, and he had just caught fucking his wife, smirke
d and winked.
The wink tipped him over into the dark place he had been avoiding for a very long time. Not anymore.
A hand on his shoulder drew him out of the killing haze he had sunk into. Drawing in a deep breath he looked down at the battered piece of shit on the floor then looked at his bloodied fists. Fucking hell. He hadn’t lost his mind in years and now this. There was going to be hell to pay over this. He just knew it.
The whore’s swearing and screaming finally stopped and was no longer hurting his eardrums. However, her screams were now replaced by the sounds of sirens.
“You need to stay calm, brother. I called prez and he made some calls. The club’s got your back on this. All we have to do is give the pigs a statement. Prez says to not give them an opportunity to lock you up. Answer their questions. Fuck, anyone with a woman will understand why you lost your mind.” Claw said quietly and Scar nodded.
Claw was right, he had lost his head. Shouldn’t have put his hands on the bastard. But it was too late now, shit had gone down and he would deal with the fallout.
Looking over at the bed and the obscene whore crouching on it he shook his head. In the back of his mind he had suspected the bitch was fucking around on him but he had been so busy handling things for the club he hadn’t had the time to investigate his suspicions.
Scar ignored the sirens, the people in the room, as he worked hard at shoving the rage down deep. He knew he had to control himself or he would be spending time behind bars. He heard Claw’s voice in the background as he made a decision. He wanted out. He wanted them out.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing?” Claw growled down at Jeremy or Pesto, his road name with the club.
“What the fuck do you think I was doing? I was fucking my woman.” Pesto grinned, his teeth were covered with blood and a line was dripping down his chin.
“I have a problem with that, you little punk, seeing that she’s your brother’s wife, not yours.”
Pesto laughed, he fucking laughed. “Ask her whose woman she is. Go on, ask her. He can’t give her what she wants so she came to me to give her what he can’t. He shoots fucking blanks, man. One fuck, that’s all it took, and she’s pregnant with my kid.” He boasted.
Scar ignored them all as he walked over to the glass sliding door, unlocked it and slid it open. Turning around he walked over to the cupboards that stretched the length of one wall and was filled with crap the bitch had sworn she needed. Pulling the doors open he started throwing her shit out of the sliding door. He ignored her screams of outrage and his brother’s laughter. He just kept emptying the cupboards. Clothes, shoes, handbags, fucking anything and everything he could get his hands on, it all went out the door.
He was still throwing shit out of the door when two pigs came running up. They looked at the shit on the lawn, looked at him then looked at the two naked people on the bed.
“Sir, please stop what you’re doing. We had complaints about screaming coming from the house.” One of the officers said in a very reasonable voice. Obviously they took in his kutte and were playing it safe.
“I’m helping the whore over there, also known as my soon to be ex-wife, to move out. Came home from a trip unexpectedly. Walked in on her and my brother fucking.” Scar stood with his arms crossed over his chest as the pigs stepped up onto the deck and into the room.
Their eyes went over everything then zeroed in on the pink dildo lying on the floor by the side of the bed. It was very obvious that it had been in use.
“Sir, do you need medical attention?” One of the officers asked the little bastard. But he immediately shook his head.
“No, no officers. It’s just a disagreement between brothers. Nothing to worry about.”
Gigi was not on board with that explanation and started screaming again. “He tried to kill him! He’s just jealous because he can’t get it up and I had to look elsewhere for sex.”
Scar shook his head and laughed. And the pigs’ eyes were back on him. He just shrugged.
“Sir, do you want to press charges of assault?” The officer pushed again. Why?
Pesto shook his head. He knew not to involve pigs in club business, and this definitely fell under club business.
Eventually the pigs left and Scar threw the last of her shit out the door while she complained bitterly. Pesto stayed quiet but the smirk stayed on his face.
Turning to the bed where the slut sat next to Pesto he met her narrowed sly eyes and smiled coldly. It pleased him when the look in her eyes turned into instant wariness. It pleased him even more when the wariness turned into horrified shock when he laid it out for her and the little fucker sitting on the bed with her.
“You signed an ante nuptial contract, remember? What’s mine is mine and what’s yours stays yours. You should have read the documents before you signed them. This is my house filled with my furniture. The cages and the bikes belong to me as well. Nothing in this house belongs to you. I bought it all, even the fucking clothes on your back. And that’s all you’re taking out of here. Your fucking clothes. Everything else stays.”
“Bullshit! She owns her cage and the bakkie (pick up/LDV) and half this house belongs to her and so does half your investments. Once we’re done with you we’ll have more than half of everything you own. We planned this very carefully motherfucker.” Suddenly Pesto was very much involved in what was going down and he was furiously angry.
Scar laughed as if he had just heard a great joke but the laughter died very quickly.
“She fucked you over, you stupid fuck. She owns nothing. Not a damned thing. Our ante nuptial contract has a very specific cheating clause, whoever cheats loses her or his claim on whatever was accrued during the marriage plus, the cherry on the cake dickhead, no fucking maintenance. That means it’s all mine, motherfucker. Everything is in my name anyway. I paid for every-fucking-thing. She spends her money on clothes and shit. And here’s some free information, all her credit cards have been maxed out and I won’t be paying them off. All she’ll get out of the divorce is her personal shit and not a single cent from me. You’re welcome to her, Jerry, very fucking welcome. Let’s see you try and keep up with her spending money like water and fucking any dick that points her way. Exactly like the fucking club slut she started out as. I’d be fucking surprised if that kid is even yours, it sure as fuck isn’t mine. Good luck with your new life motherfucker.” Scar snarled at his shocked silent brother.
“Now, take your newly acquired slut and get out of my house before I throw your naked asses out on the street and call the pigs on you for trespassing.” When Gigi started to protest he raised a hand and she instantly fell silent. “Don’t test me bitch, I’ll do it, you know I will.”
Claw clapped a hand over Scar’s shoulder and spoke softly. “Go, brother, get a beer or something. I’ll stay here and make sure they get dressed and get out.”
Scar nodded, turned around and stormed down the passage to the kitchen. Jerking the door of the fridge open he hoped the beer he had bought before going on the run was still in there. He didn’t have much hope with the detritus of the party all around him.
Thank fuck, there were two left. Grabbing one he twisted the cap off and threw it towards the overflowing bin in the corner of the kitchen. It fucking stank because it hadn’t been cleaned for a while. Gigi had never been the best at cleaning up behind her ass, which was why he employed a cleaning lady, but this shit was an eye opener. Looking around at the empty bottles, take away boxes, dirty plates and glasses littering the lounge, dining room and kitchen he shook his head. The kitchen basins were overflowing with dirty plates, mugs and glasses. The worktops didn’t look much better. He had been gone for two weeks and it was obvious they had been partying since the moment he had gone on the run. Why hadn’t Johanna come in to clean? Or had she been told not to come in? Was this what happened every time he was on a run? Was this why he was constantly on the roster for the long runs? Was his prez in on this shit?
Holding the cold beer bottle against his aching hand he closed his eyes and shook his head.
When had this mess become his life? Why had he let this shit continue for so long? He hadn’t stuck his dick in her for longer than he could fucking remember. Was his suspicions part of the reason?
He had married her when she fell pregnant with his kid. But she had lost the baby while he was on a run and blamed him for not being home when she needed him. Even though they had tried she hadn’t fallen pregnant again. Gigi had insisted on tests and crap after years of nothing and he had gone only to hear he was at fault. Low sperm count apparently. Now he was fucking thankful they didn’t have a child. It would have tied him to her for life.
And apparently she was now pregnant with his brother’s kid, if it was even his. Stupid fucking bastard.
Two weeks later.
Scar walked out of their Chapel shaking his head. He couldn’t fucking believe what had gone down in Church. According to their bylaws Pesto should have lost his patch and been punched back down to prospect for fucking a brother’s wife. He didn’t. Instead he got a slap on the wrist and the fuckers voted that he wouldn’t be eligible for promotion for the next two years.
The fact that Scar had been betrayed by a brother meant nothing. It meant fucking nothing.
He couldn’t handle being around the men he had thought of as his brothers. They had betrayed him today. But not only today, most of the bastards had known about Gigi and Pesto and said nothing. Now he knew what all those sly looks and sniggers had been about. So much for fucking brotherhood because in this club it didn’t fucking exist.
Walking over to the bar he grabbed a beer then went over to wait for Hotdog outside his office.
He was done with the Durban chapter. After today he would not be coming into the clubhouse or going on any runs unless his president ordered him to do so, and even then he would have to have a fucking good reason to call him in. As soon as he had his shit sorted he would be hitting the road and going were ever it took him.
Mark Of A Scarred Warrior (Iron Dogz MC Book 5) Page 1
