Keeper: Avenging Angels MC Book 2

by Nia Farrell

  KEEPER:

  AVENGING ANGELS MC BOOK 2

  by

  Nia Farrell

  KEEPER: AVENGING ANGELS MC BOOK 2

  by Nia Farrell

  Copyright 2017 by Nia Farrell

  Edited by Anita Quick

  Cover Design by Crystal Visions

  Stock Photography from bigstockphotos.com

  Formatting by Anita Quick

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used without the written consent of the author, except for brief quotes in reviews. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or any other means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. Such action is in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law.

  Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Release Date September 8, 2017

  Length 42,925 words / 225 pages

  ASIN: B074MPTK5Q

  Long Branch Books

  Shattuc, Illinois

  Disclaimers

  This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The use of any real company, organization, and/or product names is for literary effect only. All other trademarks and copyrights are the property of their respective owners.

  Dedication

  To Natasha Hooks, personal assistant extraordinaire whose guiding hand has helped me navigate this new genre. Your tireless efforts to promote my books never cease to amaze me. I owe you more than I can ever repay.

  Love, Nia

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  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

  Author Bio and Links

  Previous Titles

  Prologue

  Saturday, July 16, 2011

  Isabella Castellari would remember this day for the rest of her life. This morning, her parents had finally seen that their firstborn Krissy wasn’t pageant queen perfect, and Isabella had realized that her sister wasn’t the only one with a taste for forbidden fruit.

  The difference was, Isabella would never yield to temptation. She wasn’t about to spend the night with one man, let alone four brothers. No, she’d leave that notched belt in her sibling’s wardrobe.

  Isabella could have been invisible to Luke, Sam, Dylan, and Richie McLanahan when they pulled their motorcycles into her parents’ driveway, with Krissy clinging to the oldest one’s back. Not that Isabella could blame the guys. Krissy was a barely legal-aged, drop-dead gorgeous blonde bombshell. Isabella, on the other hand, was a mousy fifteen-year-old nerd with nondescript dark hair, an intact hymen, and a very vivid imagination. Watching Luke help Krissy from his bike and hand her off to their parents, she found the perfect man to star in her future fantasies. Chris Hemsworth, Jonathan Rhys Meyers, and Henry Cavill had been replaced in the blink of an eye by a former Marine nicknamed Mad Dog.

  Until now, her parents had been deaf and blind to the fact that her sister was promiscuous, but it was impossible to ignore the four 1340cc bikes announcing her return after being gone all night. Jesus, the engines rattled windows hard enough that their neighbors all looked out and saw it, too. While everyone else speculated whether or not her sister was wearing anything beneath a borrowed tee-shirt, Isabella found herself obsessed with the instrument of her sister’s fall from grace.

  There was no mistaking Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan’s resemblance to Thor. He had the hair, the body, the confidence, and an animal attraction that made Krissy cling to him like a cocklebur. Maybe he hadn’t been around Miss Little Italy long enough to know that she was just as prickly. He’d be lucky to last long enough to learn it. There was no way that Uncle Giovanni would stand for one of his family to associate with a biker, let alone the Vice President of the Avenging Angels MC.

  Mad Dog stood like a stone wall when her father shoved Krissy at their mother and gave him a verbal dressing down. Krissy said nothing to defend him. Nor did she apologize for the sleepless night that they’d had when the clock struck two AM and she still wasn’t home.

  Not that she’d care. Prissy Krissy was the center of her own universe. She expected everything else to revolve around her.

  And now she finally had the gang bang that she’d been dying to try. Of course, Isabella could never tell her parents that, any more than she could tell them the reason why Krissy wanted to pull a train. But when three AM came and her mother was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Isabella had hacked Krissy’s message box and had seen what she’d planned—a visit to one of the local biker bars in search of three to six men who’d give her the experience that she needed and was missing on her resume.

  Krissy wanted to move to California and star in adult films.

  It was second on her list of career choices (the first one being a rich man’s mistress).

  Honestly, Krissy had what it took to do either. She had the looks, and she had a brain when she chose to use it. Unlike last night. What the hell had she been thinking? This day and age, with STDs and bloodborne pathogens, no one in their right mind would hook up with anyone on their first date, even if he looked like Thor and handled a monster motorcycle like it was nothing.

  Not that there was anything wrong with his brothers, but Luke stood head-and-shoulders apart from the pack. With his vein-roped, sculpted forearms, muscular thighs, and his towering six-feet, four-inch height, Isabella guessed that he could more than hold his own in a fight. Seeing him with Krissy was just what Isabella needed to keep her own fantasies from invading reality. Luke was off limits. Taboo, now that he’d been with her sister.

  She supposed she should be grateful. Otherwise, Mad Dog McLanahan might prove too tempting to resist.

  Chapter One

  Saturday, June 7, 2014

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Isabella Castellari didn’t look up at her dinner date just yet. She was too busy trying to keep her seafood down.

  The sleazeball.

  She folded her napkin and laid it on the table. The reappearance of their waiter delayed Dirk’s response. He put his credit card back in his wallet, added a gratuity to the bill, signed it, and slipped the printout back into the guest check holder.

  “I said, I know a quiet place where we can go and get to know each other…without interruption.”

  “No,” she said, keeping her voice deceptively soft. “You mentioned Krissy.”

&nbs
p; Dirk angled his head, eyeing her like a side of beef hanging in a butcher shop. “I said that I’d heard you were sisters. I just wondered if the rumor was true.”

  And there it was. The reason that she drove to every first date, and the second, and the third. If they hadn’t shown their true colors by then, then shame on her.

  Dirk’s “somewhere quiet” might or might not have room service, but she’d bet her last dollar that it had porn on demand.

  Isabella took her purse from the empty seat to her left, pulled two twenties from her wallet, and slid them across the table.

  “What?” The wolf in banker’s clothing actually managed to look surprised. Why had she hoped that he’d be any different than any other date that she’d had since she turned sixteen? Anna had warned her, but then Anna warned her about every man who asked her out.

  “This should cover mine,” she said, fishing out her car keys. “Have a good evening.”

  “Hey, wait!” Dirk actually had the audacity to follow her out the door. Turning to face him while they were still near the restaurant entrance, she was careful to remain beyond his arm’s reach, just in case.

  “Why?” she snapped. “You don’t want to be with me. You didn’t ask one single question about what I do. What I like. You talked about your job, your boat, your portfolio, thinking that I would be impressed. I’d be more impressed if you’d shown some interest in me apart from my sister.”

  “Well, God damn.” He whistled and shook his head. “Excuse me if I wanted you to be comfortable with me.”

  She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. He was so transparent, she could see right through him. “So that I’d agree to go somewhere quiet? On a third date, I might have considered it. Too bad you blew your chance to find out.”

  Dirk’s face grew flushed. He was not a man used to losing.

  Isabella reached in her purse.

  “Look,” he said. “I’m sorry if you took it that way. Why don’t you come back inside? Order dessert, or coffee. Whatever. Let’s talk about us.”

  Isabella felt one of the things that she was looking for, palmed it, and kept fishing. Pulling out her Mace and her TASER (purple to match her Kindle cover), she held them to her chest, in case he couldn’t see how serious she was because he was staring at her tits.

  They were C-cups, the same size that Krissy’s had been three years ago, before she left Diamond Springs in the dust and went in search of California gold.

  “There is no us.” She managed to sound more tired than pissed. “There will never be an us. I don’t do second chances.” Nor did she follow in Krissy’s footsteps. Some girls might agree to go out with their sister’s exes—hell, one of her classmates had married an old boyfriend—but that wasn’t her.

  It would never be her.

  “Not fair.” Dirk whined like a toddler denied his favorite toy.

  “Life isn’t fair. Accept it,” she said, “and leave me the fuck alone,” she added, holding up her TASER when he started to take a step towards her. “Come any closer, and you’ll wish that you hadn’t.”

  She wasn’t kidding. A jolt of electricity was one of the kinder ways that she could take him down.

  “Bullshit,” he murmured under his breath. “Go on, then. Go, and good riddance. I don’t need your fucking drama.”

  She remained on high alert until he’d cleared the corner of the building, headed for his car. It was early enough, he could still get lucky at one of the bars here. As for her, she was headed home, where she’d spend the rest of the evening, curled up with a book and cuddling Sophia, the cat that Krissy had left behind along with her old life.

  Just another Saturday night in the life of Isabella Castellari, living vicariously through her favorite novels and counting the days until she’d be free of this town, too. The local men were too intimidated by her Uncle Giovanni. Most of her other dates had only asked her out because they’d heard the same rumor as Dirk.

  Only it wasn’t a rumor. She was Krissy Kandle’s sister, and there was nothing she could do to wish it away.

  Isabella unlocked the driver’s door as she approached her car, after making certain that she wasn’t being followed. Krav Maga would only go so far if someone had a gun, and she sure as hell didn’t have bullet-deflecting bracelets.

  The day was warm enough to use her air conditioning, but she enjoyed the feel of summer. Twisting the length of her hair, she draped the long, black rope over her right shoulder, cranked up her car’s vent fan, opened the windows, and enjoyed the rush of wind as she headed back to Diamond Springs, taking the scenic route through the country.

  She was nearly there when an already shitty day got shittier. Her car engine just stopped, with no warning and no explanation. It wasn’t like she’d hit a deer. Her car had just given up the ghost.

  “No, no, no!” Isabella managed to pull onto the shoulder, clear of the traffic lane.

  Stranded, she approached her problem as she did everything else, with rational thinking. On the plus side, there was still quite a bit of daylight left. This time of year, it didn’t get dark until nearly nine PM.

  She had time, and a flashlight.

  A flashlight, and a cell phone.

  A cell phone…and no signal.

  Typical Southern Illinois, fuck it all.

  She heaved a sigh. So much for summoning help. Unable to call out, she was left with two options: stay in her car, or start walking. A spare pair of sensible shoes were in the trunk in a plastic tote, along with a change of clothes, a towel, garbage bags, a tire pump, a first aid kit, and a roadside emergency set. Opening the last one, she supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to put out the triangle reflector warnings. On this back road, it might well be dark before anyone came by.

  Warning signs in place, she popped her umbrella, stood in its shade by her car, and prayed for help to come.

  A good thirty minutes went by before she heard the unmistakable rumble of a motorcycle headed her way. Closing her umbrella, she jumped in her car, fished out her Mace and TASER, and prepared herself for whatever was coming her way.

  The motorcycle slowed upon seeing her hazard triangles. She thought the driver might pass her by and kept her eyes on him as he pulled past her and stopped on the shoulder in front of her car. That height. That hair. Those tats. Even before he took off his helmet, she knew exactly who it was.

  Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan. Vice President of the Avenging Angels MC and the star of her naughtiest fantasies. Thor reincarnated, he wore denim jeans that bulged in all the right places and a tight black tee shirt peeking from the opened front of his cut.

  For three years, she’d considered him the ultimate man candy. Six feet, four inches of blond-haired, blue-eyed, tattoo-labeled testosterone. Unfortunately, then and now, there wasn’t a damn thing to be done about it.

  She refused to be Krissy’s second.

  Chapter Two

  Earlier that evening….

  Mad Dog McLanahan had had enough. Enough of watching his pussy-whipped brother Richie with his girlfriend Anna wrapped around him. Enough of hearing Anna Khan talk about her best friend, hinting that he should give her a ride, like she was trying to play matchmaker and hook them up.

  Like he didn’t know who she was.

  If Isabella Castellari was anything like her viper of a sister, there was no fucking way he’d let her come to the Avenging Angels MC clubhouse with Anaconda, as he was beginning to think of her. Oh sure, Anna would kneel for Richie. She’d have sex or give him head in the clubhouse lounge with everyone else either looking on or getting some, too. But Anna and his youngest brother had been dating for weeks, and she still hadn’t told her parents. Fuck that. If she wanted to be Richie’s old lady, she needed to fess the fuck up.

  “I’m going out,” he told his uncle. Jack Daniels was anchoring the end of the clubhouse bar, in his usual seat, nursing his usual drink. “Try not to miss me.”

  He didn’t have anything in mind except escape when he took off. He wandered,
aimless, until he found himself in the parking lot of Paradise Found, one of the legitimate businesses owned by the Avenging Angels MC. Well outside Diamond Springs, the strip club catered to a clientele that was more blue-collar workers and businessmen than bikers.

  Used to be, he’d share his regular table with his best friend Michael “Crash” O’Flaherty…until Crash hooked up with his sister Rose, the princess of the Avenging Angels MC. Crash had been keeping his ass close to home ever since.

  Mad Dog put his kickstand down next to J.B.’s bike. He found J.B.—short for Jelly Bean—inside, nursing a beer and sporting a hard-on for his favorite stripper. Candy was on stage, grinding against the dance pole, squeezing her Double D tits, and playing with the crowd. By the time her song finished, dollar bills covered more acreage than her thong did.

  “The usual?”

  Mad Dog turned to see their most experienced waitress, Cricket, balancing a bar tray full of empties.

  “The usual. Thanks.”

  Dropping her voice an octave, Cricket gave him sloe eyes and a sultry smile. “Sure thing, Sir.”

  Well, well. The night just got more interesting.

  He’d played with Cricket before. She was a painslut, with a short list of hard limits and a willingness to please. Not that he’d taken advantage of that. Much. But she knew his tastes. Knew what he liked, and how he liked it.

  The trouble was, she didn’t challenge him. Cricket was the kind of submissive who’d agree to just about anything he suggested. He liked the sparks that came with conflict, the give and take of negotiation, finding a sub’s limits and helping her push past them. The honorific was clearly an invitation, but he just couldn’t get excited about it. He wanted a woman who could hold his interest, and Cricket was too predictable.

  He’d want a blow job to take the edge off. He’d see what toys called to him. Do some bondage and impact play. When her bottom was a perfect shade of red, he’d ream out her pussy and finish in her ass. He’d stay with her long enough to do aftercare and leave her smiling in her bed.