Demented Sons Series Volume One: Books 1-4 (Demented Sons MC Iowa)

by Kristine Allen

  “You coming to the birthday bash tonight?” he asked.

  “Yeah, Sam is dragging me and Sean with him. I really wanted to spend my weekend chilling out at the farm, but you know how it is. Sam doesn’t take no for an answer.” I smiled as I prepared to climb in the big Ford F350 Dually. Erik gave me a big bear hug, and I noticed the patch on his vest read “Hacker.”

  “What’s up with that?” I poked the nametag.

  “Well, I went away to college for computers, but I got bored, dropped out, and joined the marines for a bit.” He shrugged. “I joined the MC when I got home and I do computer and security systems now. It’s fun and pays good,” he said with a crooked grin.

  Pecking a quick kiss to his cheek, I smiled.

  “Thanks for your help, Erik. I guess I’ll see you tonight!” I said as I climbed in the truck. I closed the door, started the big diesel up, and slowly pulled out of the lot.

  Singing at the top of my lungs, I drove the few miles home with the windows down and the radio blaring an old KISS song. For a farmer, my dad sure loved his classic rock. I snickered at the thought of Dad jamming out to his old rock in the farm truck and out on the tractor.

  It really did feel good to be home.

  “Sure. We’re on our way back to the clubhouse now.” I hung up from the call with Snow in time to see Hacker getting a kiss on the cheek from a homegrown farm chick in short, cutoff jean shorts.

  As usual, it made my heart jump when I saw the curly blonde hair. It had become a habit to tell myself it wasn’t her.

  After she drove off, he walked back to the bikes and climbed on his, sliding on his shades. Once I was seated on mine, I looked over at him with a teasing grin.

  “Sooooo… that one of your old hos from the day, Hacker?”

  “Fuck no. I wouldn’t be alive if it was! That was the little sister of my old buddy from high school. Sam would’ve strung my fucking ass up if I would’ve messed with her. Besides, she was a year behind us, and I was too busy chasing college pussy my senior year.” He laughed as he started up his bike.

  The rumble of our pipes as we pulled out of the lot drew the attention of people walking down the sidewalk of Main Street. Hacker gave a casual low wave to those who waved to him.

  This was his stomping ground. People still loved him as a war hero and the high school football star that took the team to state his senior year. I shook my head with a smile. Hacker had grown up in Grantsville. Hollywood was from a small town down the road about an hour from there.

  They’d met during football and had been friends ever since, even with them joining two different branches. At times, I was jealous of their ties to family and community, but I was thankful they pulled me into the fold. Thanks to them, I at least had the club family.

  We pulled up to the clubhouse, parking in line with the rest of the bikes. I grabbed my Gatorade and energy bar from my saddlebag and headed into the dimly lit interior of the clubhouse. The murmur of voices and the music on the jukebox hit me, wrapping around me like my mama’s arms welcoming me home.

  Pulling up a stool, I sat at the bar and cracked open my Gatorade. Half the bottle was gone in one long swig, and I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. It had already started to warm from the short ride in the July heat, but it was cold enough to hit the spot.

  “Church!” yelled Snow, heading to the old boardroom that was now our “chapel,” or meeting room.

  Draining the last of my Gatorade, I got up from the bar and set the empty bottle down. Cammie, our bartender, grabbed it and wiped down the counter as I climbed off the barstool.

  “Thanks, doll.”

  “No problem, hon.” As Snow’s old lady, no one fucked with her. Period. But she was a sweetheart and looked out for us sorry fucks. She gave me a sympathetic smile as I stretched my left leg out to work the muscles again. Almost three years and the fucking thing still sporadically got tight if I sat or rode too long.

  “Reaper!” Gunny shouted as I entered the chapel.

  I grinned and hugged him, then sat in my seat as the rest of the brothers filed in. Some laughed and joked while others were quiet.

  A banging resounded through the room.

  Fuck.

  Snow pounded his fist on the old, thick wood table to get everyone’s attention. Vinny, the VP, sat to Snow’s left. The remainder of the officers, Cash and Dice, flanked them.

  “All right, all right. Come on, boys, we have a lot to discuss before we head over to the Oasis for Mama’s birthday,” hollered Butch, our sergeant-at-arms. That brought a fond smile to Pops’s face. Damn, he loved that woman.

  The thought of having that someday made me smile for a second before I beat it back, telling myself that shit wasn’t for me. Some of the brothers had old ladies, and most of them were devoted and faithful to them, though there were a couple who still fucked around with the club whores. Deep down that pissed me off, but it wasn’t my place to tell someone else how to live their fucking lives.

  I looked around the table at the men who had been my brothers for over a year since being patched. We were a smaller club, but our chapter was tight. We had four other chapters—one each in Montana and Nebraska and two in Missouri. They were looking at branching into Texas too. We were the original, or mother chapter.

  The majority of the founding members had been prior service and formed the club to recreate the brotherhood and comradery they experienced in the military. It was no surprise that the club ran its businesses with military precision.

  “We’re set to meet with the Black Souls MC in two weeks in Des Moines. I don’t fucking trust them, but we promised to help with this delivery as a courtesy to our chapter up in Montana. They’re hoping this will help create a truce among us. I don’t know if I’m in total agreeance, but our Montana prez and I go back a long way, so I agreed. We need to be on our toes during this drop-off. We’re getting a 20 percent cut of the profits from the deal for our escort and delivery. We’ll meet up with the Montana delivery crew in Sioux Falls, where we’ll take possession of the truck. From there we’ll drive straight through to Des Moines. We don’t want to draw attention to the truck, so the bikes and our van will keep a fair distance in front and back. We’ll be running slick. We want to appear like random weekend warriors in a couple of small groups in front and back of the truck. Three riders in front, then the van, followed by the truck with four riders in back. Dress like a group of civie riders out riding for the weekend would. Reaper and Hollywood, you two will be the advance party to set up as our eye in the sky to make sure the drop-off location is secure.” Snow continued with the remaining details of who was riding where, looking each member in the eye to try to read them for dissention.

  “All right then, any other issues or concerns anyone has to bring to the table?” Snow patiently waited for anyone to voice their bitches or questions. No one spoke up. “Next meeting we’ll discuss more about the status of our prospects. Soap has been prospecting for almost nine months, and he has been a kick-ass fucking prospect. He’s done everything we’ve asked without complaint, and he’s had every member’s back at some point or another. Think about your feelings on it, and we’ll vote on patching him in at the next church.”

  Everyone nodded, and Snow brought an end to church.

  We all stood and bullshitted in the room for a few minutes before Hollywood shouted, “Come on, fuckers! What are we waiting for? Let’s go party!”

  Everyone shouted, laughed, and hugged with slaps to their back patches as we filed out and climbed on our bikes. The prez started his up, followed by the rest of us. We pulled out of the lot in formation as a single unit, two by two, with the gate sliding closed by remote sensor as the last man pulled out.

  Music blared on the bikes that had sound systems as we rode to the downtown square. We were the only vehicles allowed within the barriers blocking the street. We all backed in as one so we were lined up in front of the Oasis.

  I grabbed myself a Corona and turned, crushing Mama
in a big hug. “Happy birthday.” She kissed my cheek with a big smile and raised her glass to my Corona to clink them together. I usually kept my drinking to a minimum, but shit, I was looking forward to letting go for a little bit.

  THE PARTY WAS IN full swing by the time we got there. Even though I hadn’t been home in forever, the number of people that showed up for Mama Jean’s birthday bash each year never ceased to amaze me.

  “Let’s get a drink,” said Sean. We pushed our way into the bar to order drinks and then fought our way through the crowd to go outside to listen to the band.

  The night air was sultry, and people all around us were laughing, drinking, dancing, and having a great time. The laughter was infectious, and soon my brothers and I were taking turns dancing in the street while one of us watched our drinks at a picnic table.

  While Sean and I were dancing with some friends, I looked over to see Sam standing in the shadowy outskirts, talking to Erik at our table. When they looked my way, I waved. They smiled, returned my wave, and resumed their conversation. Likely it was reminiscing of their football exploits.

  The next time I looked over, I saw Sam shaking hands with the hot-ass biker I’d ogled in the grocery store.

  Looking back on it, my blatant ogling was embarrassing. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed me making a fool out of myself. Sheesh, I had actually sniffed him.

  Someone danced up behind me, placing their hands on my hips. A glance over my shoulder revealed my old friend Chas from high school.

  “Chas!” With a huge smile, I reached my arms up over my head, tousling his hair in a teasing fashion. Slowly, I slid lower against his body as I swung my hips from side to side.

  Letting my hair down, I was so glad I’d let Sam talk us into going, because I was having a blast.

  As I glanced over to the table again, I noticed the sexy biker looking toward the dance area. I’ll never know what came over me. Maybe it was the alcohol—no, it was definitely the alcohol as I began to dance for him. Poor Chas became a mere prop.

  From where I was, and with him obscured by the shadows, he reminded me of Colton. So I pretended.

  “Get it, girl!” Chas joked in my ear, aware of what I was doing.

  The closet wanton was coming out again.

  That hadn’t been such a great idea the last time, no matter how hot the memories were. I just couldn’t seem to help myself. I was drawn to him in an insane way.

  Maybe it was the dark hair and fantastic build. Hell, I’d always been a sucker for the tall, dark, and handsome ones. A bead of sweat ran in a slow trail down my spine as I slid my hands from my hips, up my sides, along the sides of my breasts, to my neck, and into my hair. Seductively, I lifted the heavy curls above my head as I continued to sway and grind.

  When I looked over again, he was gone. Damn. I scanned the crowd but didn’t spot his considerable height anywhere. Losing my mojo, I looked up at Chas, “Thanks for the dance, hon. Call me and we’ll have lunch!”

  “You got it, babe,” he replied, and I bussed his cheek.

  Weaving through the crowd, I tapped my brother on the shoulder as he danced with a cute but young-looking brunette. When he looked at me, I yelled in his ear, “I’m going to the bathroom and then to grab another beer.”

  He nodded with a smile, giving me a thumbs-up; there wasn’t much worry of me walking by myself since we had known everyone there forever. I then wound my way through the crowd into the bar.

  For the first time that night, I saw Mama Jean alone with Pops and went up to give her my birthday wishes. She hugged me and, to be heard above the crowd, exclaimed in my ear, “Girl, you’re all grown up! Are you back in town for good or just to visit?”

  “I actually wish I was back for good, but I have a place and a job back in Des Moines.”

  She pulled me off to the side to sit at a tall table, and I noted Pops kept a fond eye on her from where he stood drinking and laughing with another man from his club.

  “So what are you doing down in that big city anyway, sweetie?”

  I explained what I had gone to school for and what I was doing. She got a speculative gleam in her eye when I told her my dreams of running my own restaurant someday.

  “Would you stop by tomorrow? I have something I want to run by you.”

  “Is it okay if I bring Remi?”

  “Of course. No one will say anything about her being there in the day. Besides, we’re slow after the lunch rush.”

  “Cool! See you then. I’m sorry, but I really have to pee, and I still need to grab a beer.”

  She hugged me again, and we separated as she went back to Pops, where he folded her in his arms, kissing her head while his long, thick gray beard must have tickled her nose. I saw her laugh and brush it out of her face. I prayed for a lasting love like that someday, but my heart was heavy, as I doubted I would find it.

  Figuring I should go pee before I got my beer, I walked around the corner. When I saw the long line for the bar bathrooms, I quickly made my way out to one of the porta-potties.

  As quickly as I could, I finished, smothered myself in the hand sanitizer, and flung the door open. Because I was rushing to get out, I ran smack-dab into a solid wall of leather with a patch against my lips that read “Reaper.”

  When I stepped back to apologize, my smile melted away and my vision went cloudy.

  Because I was staring into the same crystal blue eyes that’d haunted my dreams for the last three years.

  The same eyes I looked into every morning in my little girl’s face.

  “Colton?” I started to shake and my knees buckled underneath me as the music and laughter became muffled and slipped away.

  Hacker had asked me to grab him another beer when I went to get my own. When I returned, there was a guy standing with him.

  “Hey, Reaper, I want you to meet my old high school running buddy, Sam.”

  “Nice to meet you.” We shook hands and talked for a bit.

  I liked Sam straight off. He seemed like a cool fucking dude, and I stuck around while Sam and Hacker shot the shit, telling tales of their glory days on the football field. I’d played football in school as well, but after my experiences over the last several years, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Out of habit, I was scanning the crowd, trying to account for all of my brothers and ensuring their safety.

  Of course I noticed the curly blonde dancing almost immediately. Like always, I told myself it wasn’t her. No way was I going through that same shit of getting my hopes up again. That didn’t mean I couldn’t admire her long, tan legs topped by short frayed denim shorts. They sat low on her hips, and a snug peach-colored tank top accented the swell of her magnificent tits.

  She’d work as a fill-in tonight for my memories. A slow, predatory smile spread over my face.

  Blondie actually looked like the chick Hacker was talking to earlier in the day at Fareway, but I wasn’t sure. Wished I had gotten a better look at her. If it was, maybe he’d give me the hookup.

  “Hacker,” I started without taking my eyes from her.

  “What’s up, bro?”

  That was when her dickhead boyfriend came grinding up on her. Figured someone like her would be with a pretty-boy douche like that. She looked over her shoulder at him, grinding and swaying against him. Crazy thing was, after she looked my way, I could have sworn she was dancing for me.

  “Never mind,” I muttered.

  He looked confused but shrugged and resumed his conversation.

  Jesus. What. The. Fuck. My cock jumped in my jeans.

  What a little fucking tease.

  She ran her hands along her body in a sensual dance. Then she held her hair up over her head, raising those glorious tits up like an offering.

  Damn, did she remind me of my angel. Experience told me it was an illusion of the flashing colored lights and the same trick my eyes always played on me.

  Jesus, I couldn’t take it anymore. Trying to discreetly adjust my wayward cock, I turned around an
d walked off to find someone who could help with the ache in my balls. Since it wasn’t going to be her.

  The thought of that preppy puke with his hands, mouth, and cock on her tonight just plain pissed me the fuck off.

  “What the fuck is wrong with me?” In disgust, I shook my head.

  Hollywood intercepted my prowl around the crowd. “Hey, Reaper, play a game of darts with me.”

  Pops and Jean had a row of dartboard games set up along the side of the bar for the night, and we headed over to wait for one to open. I figured it was as good a distraction as any from the sex kitten on the dance floor. There was plenty of time to find a willing chick for the night.

  We stood by a tall table, drinking our beer and talking about a lot of nothing.

  Damn, I wonder if any of these fuckers are ever gonna finish their games.

  “Bro, I gotta piss. If one of them finishes, grab the fucking board. I’ll be back in a few unless I find me some warm legs to wear as a belt.” I laughed as I headed over to the porta-johns along the barrier between the bar and the building across the street.

  After pissing, I walked out of my john and turned to head back to Hollywood, but the door on the one next to me flew open and a sweet-smelling blonde chick slammed into me, smashing her face into my cut.

  I steadied her by the arms as she pulled back, and I realized it was the sex kitten. As her smiling gaze rose to mine, her apology died on her lips. Her beautiful face went white, her smile faded, and those eyes that had kept me going through mortar blasts, sniper missions, and the IED went wide. My name rolled off her lips before they went unfocused and her knees buckled.

  Heart pounding, I grabbed the body that was etched in my mind and lived under my skin. With trembling arms, I scooped her up, carrying her over to an empty table off to the side of the street.

  My heart was going to explode as one beat melded to the next in a rapid-fire succession. I was finding it hard to breathe as I smoothed her hair away from her brow, flicking the few strands back that were plastered to her forehead with sweat.