Bayou Devils MC: The Complete Series

by A. M. Myers

  “I swear, I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” I whisper and she nods, clinging to me as her tears seep into my t-shirt. Fuck, I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost her. She pulls back and meets my eyes.

  “Where’s the ring?”

  I search her eyes for a moment before grinning. I set her on the ground and pull the ring out of my pocket before slipping it on her finger. Once it’s on, she launches herself at me again and presses her lips to mine as I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her off the ground.

  “Is this enough of an answer?” she asks in between frantic kisses. “Or does it need to be official?”

  I shake my head and kiss her again. “Naw, angel. I think I got the message.”

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  Juliette

  Big, white fluffy clouds, the kind you only find on a perfect summer day, roll across the deep blue sky and the sun shimmers on the surface of the lake just through the trees, beckoning me to dip my toes in the water. Rubbing my hands over my expanding belly, I take a deep breath, obsessed with how peaceful I feel out here. Sawyer walks up beside me and sets the box in his hands down before slipping his arm over my shoulder and pulling me into his side.

  “You did real good, angel.”

  I beam as I stare up at the stately southern style home we’ve spent the last year designing and building as pride wells up in my chest. Before Sawyer suggested that we build our dream house out here on the same land he proposed to me on, I never even thought about designing a house but looking out at our surroundings, I knew just what this place needed. It’s elegant without being too flashy or over the top, homey despite its size and the kind of place that I can see all our friends and family hanging out around for years to come.

  Glancing over to the spot where Sawyer dropped down on one knee and popped the question, all I can do is smile. Some people can’t understand how I can still live here after being held at gunpoint by someone I thought was my friend but for me, after everything else that happened, it was a nice little piece of closure. After that night, for the first time in a month, I knew I was safe. Gavin, or Jason as we later found out, and Nico were both charged with my father’s murder as well as the two attempts on my life and the attempt on Sawyer’s life in addition to a slew of lesser charges they managed to rack up during their little scheme and they accepted plea deals for twenty-five years each, which means I don’t have to worry about them ever again.

  I suck in a breath and scowl, pressing my hand into the side of my belly as our son delivers a swift kick to my ribs and Sawyer glances down at me.

  “You need to go sit down, baby. I’ll take care of the last of these boxes.”

  I nod and release a breath. As much as I want to yell at him for trying to tell me what to do, my feet are killing me right now and it’s a billion degrees out here. “Okay.”

  I turn to him and he gives me a quick kiss before picking the box up off of the ground and carrying it into the house as I waddle behind him. As I turn to the water, I smile. The lake is one of my favorite things about this property and I can’t wait to sit out on the back porch with a big glass of sweet tea to watch the sun set over the water.

  “Woman,” Sawyer calls, stepping out onto the porch. “Hurry your ass up.”

  I level a glare at him. “You try carrying this linebacker around, you ass.”

  “Fine,” he says with a shrug as he jumps down the stairs and runs over to me. I scream as he picks me up like I weigh nothing at all and carries me to the house. “Doesn’t seem that bad to me.”

  “Let’s trade, then. You can be pregnant and I’ll just run around, drink beer, and make jokes.”

  He grins. “Have I mentioned today that you’re absolutely stunning, Mrs. Michelson?”

  “Don’t you try to butter me up!” I yell, twisting my lips to try and hide my smile. He laughs.

  “What if I tell you that I love you?”

  I nod. “You damn well better. Your son is boxing my bladder.”

  “Is he now?” he asks as he carries me into the living room and sets me down on the couch. Kneeling in front of me, he presses his hands against my belly.

  “Franklin,” he says, his face serious and I smile. As soon as we found out we were having a little boy, Sawyer suggested we name him after my father and I fell in love with the man just a little bit more. He said he owed his whole life to my dad’s sacrifice so it only seemed right that his grandson carry on his name. “I know you haven’t seen your mother yet but just take it from me, son, she’s an angel which is why I can’t have you being so mean to her, you hear?”

  I run my fingers through his hair and shake my head. “I love you.”

  “I love you,” he answers, smiling up at me and I lean down as I cup his face in between my hands and press a couple of quick kisses to his lips. As he pulls away, his arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me to the edge of the couch. “I’ve got two more boxes out there and then what do you say we go grab some pizza?”

  I moan and my eyes roll back as I nod. One of the things I’ve been craving the most during this pregnancy is this bacon cheeseburger pizza at this little place downtown - honestly I could eat it all day, every day. “Yes, yes, yes.”

  “‘Kay. You rest until I get back,” he instructs and I nod, giving him a mock salute and he shakes his head as he stands up and walks back outside to get the last of our boxes. We really didn’t have much to move in since we moved into a furnished apartment while this one was being built but I did have fun dropping some cash on all new wardrobes for both of us and the baby. Plus, we got a lot of stuff at the wedding that needed to be packed and moved over here. Turning my head to the side, I smile at the photo from our wedding that Sawyer already set up on the end table. We got married in the little park where Sawyer first dropped down on one knee in front of me, the same park where we had our first date, three weeks after we proposed. Neither one of us wanted to wait and I didn’t want to have a big flashy event so it just made sense to choose the place that was so special to both of us.

  Sighing, I lie back on the couch and rest my hand on the top of my belly as I gaze around the house, noticing all the little details that I painstakingly picked out to bring everything together. It’s everything I ever imagined my home being and I can’t wait to see kids playing and running through the hallway or my family gathered around the table for dinner. Franklin kicks me again and I rub my hand over the spot as I realize I haven’t seen his room yet and try to get up.

  Sawyer walks back into the house with the last two boxes as I collapse back onto the couch with a huff and he narrows his eyes at me. “What were you doing?”

  “I was going to look at Franklin’s room,” I say and he shakes his head as he sets the boxes down and comes over to me, holding out his hands.

  “No, no, little lady. We’re going to get dinner.”

  I take his hands and groan as he pulls me to my feet. “Well, I’ll just go look at it real quick.”

  “No can do,” he shoots back, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and steering me toward the front door. I scowl.

  “Why don’t you want me to see his room?”

  He shakes his head. “No reason.”

  “Liar.”

  Stopping right in front of the door, he sighs. “It’s a surprise, okay?”

  “I don’t like surprises,” I answer, remembering how stressed I was as I rode in the truck, blindfolded, on the night he proposed and he laughs.

  “Yes, I know but I’ve got like a whole thing planned so maybe you could just go with me on this.”

  I turn to look down the hallway before turning back to him with pursed lips. He studies me for a second before rolling his eyes.

  “You’re not going to be able to go with it, huh?”

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “Okay… I’ll show you now but I get husband points for the romantic plan I had for later.”

  “Deal,” I say with a n
od. “You get all the husband points, now show me.”

  Nodding, he leads me down the hallway to our son’s room and makes me face toward the slightly open door before covering my eyes. His breath brushes along my skin and I suck in a breath as my nipples pebble.

  “You ready?”

  I nod and I hear the door open. “Okay, open your eyes.”

  My eyes blink open and I take it all in, the navy blue wall behind the white crib, the paintings of baby animals up on the wall, the plush rocking chair in the corner and Franklin’s name spelled out in gray letters, as I gasp.

  “Sawyer,” I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes. It’s absolutely perfect and I can’t wait to bring our son home to this room. Turning to face my husband, I slip my arms over his shoulders and press a kiss to his lips. He hums as his arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me as close as he can with my belly in the way. Pulling back, I look up at him and smile.

  “I’m the luckiest girl in the whole world and I love you.”

  He smiles. “I love you more.”

  I scrunch my nose up and tilt my head to the side in protest and he laughs but I have to admit to myself that he just might be right. My man is all heart and I wouldn’t have him any other way.

  Every Little Thing

  Bayou Devils MC

  Book Seven

  Chapter One

  Wyatt

  My eyes burn as I scan over the file in front of me again. It doesn’t matter that I have read this same information a hundred times in the past week, I still search for more. There has to be more, something I missed along the way that will finally make all of this make sense. Sighing, I run a calloused hand over my face and grab my beer off the table as I lean back in my seat and take a sip. It’s warm now but I don’t give a shit. To be honest, I can’t even taste it because I’m consumed with these cases. When I wake up in the morning, I look over the files. Before I go to bed at night, I look over the files and anytime I find a spare moment in my day, I look over these goddamn files. It’s become my obsession and I know there is something here. I just need to see it. The rest of the Bayou Devils MC might like to believe that this is all just bad luck but I refuse. Three girls are dead, girls that we helped, girls that we were responsible for and there is no way in hell their deaths are simply a coincidence. No matter what my brothers think.

  Leaning forward, I slam the bottle of beer back onto the table with too much force before scooping up the top file and scanning it again. Girl number one was Dina. She came to us for help to escape her piece of shit husband who liked to talk with his fists instead of his words. When she ended up in the hospital with bruises all over her body, a nurse slipped her our card and she gave us a call. We couldn’t let her go back home to him so the nurse agreed to shelter her until we could get her to safety. Chance and Storm were on that run and shit went bad when her husband, Mitch, showed up at the nurse’s house and tried to take her back by force. In the end, it all worked out and we took her to a hotel to keep her safe but almost two weeks later, we got the news that she was dead. At the time, we all assumed it was her husband but now… I just don’t know.

  Flipping the page, I read over the crime scene report Detective Rodriguez was able to give me and blow out a breath. A maid at the hotel where she was staying found her when she came to clean the room and called an ambulance. When paramedics arrived, she was barely breathing and they rushed her to the hospital. The doctors ran numerous tests before it was determined that there was no brain activity and her mother decided to turn off life support. She slipped away a few hours later. We were all hit hard by her death but we understood that it was a part of what we did, a sad reality of helping women and children in these volatile situations.

  The Bayou Devils MC used to be a real outlaw club, running guns and drugs, just out to make a quick buck but after one of our members, Henn, was sent to jail and our President, Blaze, was shot, things started to change and when a frantic woman crashed into Blaze at a gas station, everything changed. We started helping people and we opened up a legitimate business. This is all secondhand information, of course, since I didn’t join until after the club started down the straight and narrow but I have heard enough stories from the guys who have been around longer than I have to know how chaotic things used to be. For me, joining the club after years of aimless wandering was like finally finding the place where I belonged and I loved being able to use my skills to help people without the restrictions that held me back in the past. Although, I can’t help but feel like I am failing them now.

  Barely holding back a growl, I toss the file down on the table and grab the next one before flipping it open. The second girl was Detective Rodriguez’s girlfriend, Laney. We first met Diego Rodriguez a few years back when Blaze’s son, Nix, and his girlfriend, Emma, needed our help and ever since then, he has helped us out on cases when he could and we return the favor. When he called us in to help on Laney’s case, he had just started digging into it and all we knew was that she had been getting weird phone calls from a man. At first, all he did was breathe on the other end of the line to scare her and when that wasn’t enough anymore, he escalated to commenting on her outfit that day or the errands she had run - anything to let her know that he was watching her. Just before we were called in to help watch over her, he told her it would be such a shame when he had to kill her. While Rodriguez dug into the case, we kept an eye on her and made sure she was safe until he tracked down Owen, the man responsible for harassing her. But just a couple of weeks after he was locked up, Rodriguez came home and found Laney in a pool of blood. After that, he kind of lost it and our main focus was to keep him from spiraling out of control.

  As I scan through the facts of the case, I notice a note scribbled at the top of the page about a man that Smith saw at Laney’s funeral and scowl. It would be incredibly moronic for the killer to show up there but that doesn’t mean he didn’t do it. Then again, it could have just been someone visiting a dead relative. I read over the note again and me knee bounces underneath the table as I sigh.

  Average white guy, kind of tall, brown hair, slim.

  Shaking my head, I flip through the file and pull out the dark, grainy photo Rodriguez got off of a surveillance camera near the pay phone this guy used to call Laney when he was stalking her. You can’t see his face, but he matches Smith’s description from the funeral to a T which is the biggest problem. He’s perfectly average, the kind of guy you don’t even notice, the one who can slip through a crowd without a single person remembering the features of his face. The kind of guy that can get away with murder. Shaking my head, I toss the file down on the table and grab my beer before finishing it off.

  “You need another one, Fuzz?” Cleo, our bartender, asks and I nod. She flashes me a coy smile as she fishes another bottle of beer out of the fridge and opens it. Her hips sway back and forth as she walks over to me and normally, I might be interested in what she’s offering up tonight but with the cases on my mind, there is no way in hell I can focus on anything else. She sets the beer down in front of me and I nod as I scoop the third file off of the table.

  “Thanks, Cleo.”

  She winks. “Anytime, babe.”

  I watch her as she sashays back behind the bar before taking a sip of my beer and flipping the third file open. Girl number three, Sammy, was just killed a little over a month ago and her death was the catalyst for my newfound obsession. In the first case, it was safe to assume that Dina’s husband came back to finish the job and for Laney, I suppose we were all too busy looking out for Rodriguez to put the pieces together but with Sammy… it was different.

  The club first got into contact with Sammy through her sister, who asked us to help her break Sammy away from her insane boyfriend. We later realized that her boyfriend was Biche, the guy who was responsible for Henn going to jail, but before we could do anything, we lost contact with her. She resurfaced a couple of years later, called us and we swooped in to get her away from him. The plan went off without
a hitch and Sammy was starting a new life on her own when we got the call that she had been killed. Normally, we would assume that Biche got to her again but with him not in the picture anymore, it’s just not possible. Which left me wondering if there was more going on here than any of us realized and started my trip down this demented rabbit hole.

  “Church!” Blaze calls from the door to the war room and I release a breath as I close the file and toss it on the table. Grabbing my beer, I run my hand over my face and stand up, taking a sip before I follow the rest of the guys into the room. We all file around the table to our regular seat before Blaze grabs the gavel and bangs it on the table, nodding to Streak. Streak stands up and passes a sheet of paper to each of us.

  “First up this week, we have Marina who hired us to investigate the man her father went into business with. Her father has run a very successful Italian restaurant for many years and took on a partner last year to lighten his workload but Marina is concerned that Mr. Girouard is taking advantage of her father. Fuzz and Smith, this case is yours.”

  I glance over at Smith and nod.

  “Second up is a security detail for Mikayla Silva. She’s a witness to a murder and Rodriguez has requested our assistance in keeping her safe through the trial.”

  “Storm, Chance, Kodiak, and Henn, y’all will rotate shifts round the clock to keep her safe,” Blaze says and they all nod in agreement. “Anything else we need to go over?”

  Nodding, I sit forward and meet Blaze’s eyes. “We need to talk about the cases I’ve been looking into.”

  Kodiak sighs from his spot two seats down and I flick an annoyed glance in his direction before focusing back on Blaze. From the very beginning, Kodiak has been adamant that there is nothing going on and I’m afraid that other people are starting to believe him but I know there is something here. Call it experience or intuition but either way, I’m convinced that the death of these three girls aren’t just coincidence.