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

by Kristine Allen

  So, between my savings and him working, we had already decided I could quit anyway. Thank God. Because I swore, if I had to go in there and see Hacker one more time, I was going to break. He was killing me; each night he was there, a stab wound to my soul that wouldn’t heal.

  Scratching out a quick note changing my next—and last—song, I ran up and handed it to Jack, our DJ. Technically, I should’ve had another routine after this one before Cherry did the final number of the night, but Cinnamon would cover for me. She needed the extra tips anyway, thanks to some shit she had going on with her brother. Not my circus, not my monkeys. I was having a hard enough time keeping my own monkeys from turning into flying monkeys.

  With my final number coming up soon, I was starting to feel freedom beckoning. Jack nodded that I was good to go with the last-minute switch, telling me, “Don’t sweat it, I got you, girl.”

  Closing my eyes and taking a deep cleansing breath behind the curtain, I knew this was it. I would be free. No more feeling the need to scrub my skin raw each night.

  I got this.

  My costume, wig, mask, and as much of my “Sparkle” attitude as I could muster, were ready. The saxophone started, indicating my routine was starting. The crowd knew then I was coming up next, as this was one of my signature songs. Yeah, I had intentionally chose this to be my last song, because I wanted to tell Hacker that I was worth it but he fucked up. So, I strutted, shook, and was grinding my little tush off, taking an occasional quick peek at him in his usual spot back against the wall, as Fifth Harmony’s “Worth It” blared from the sound system. Tonight, it was Joker with him. Hacker’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes narrowed as Joker was talking to him. From Joker’s expression, he looked exasperated. Not my problem what their issues were.

  Bye, Hacker. Eat your fucking heart out.

  After I finished, I exited the stage for the last time, and promptly puked in the first trash I passed.

  Ugh.

  “I Stand Alone”—Godsmack

  COULD THERE BE ANY more ways she could rub salt in my wound? Fuck.

  It wasn’t bad enough I had to sit there and look but not touch her each night she danced. It wasn’t bad enough the fuckers around the stage got to touch her and I didn’t. It wasn’t bad enough she called me back there to talk to her and I couldn’t keep my fucking hands off her. And it wasn’t bad enough she told me she cared about me—that she fucking loved me—tempting me to go against every single rule I lived by.

  No. She had to dance to that fucking song as if I didn’t know with every fiber of my fucking being she was worth it? God-fucking-damn. The agony pouring from my chest was burying me. It was dragging me down and smothering me. Trying to crawl out of it was just making me sink deeper like quicksand. I could still smell her perfume, sweet and rich. I could still taste her lip gloss. When she exited the stage, I knew I should try to talk to her. Should being the operative word.

  Saying those cutting words to her when she called me back and said she cared about me was one of the most devastating things I had done in a long time. Each word was like razor-sharp shards ricocheting around in my chest cavity, slicing my heart and soul to fucking ribbons. Those words had singularly done what none of the IEDs in Afghanistan had been able to accomplish… they completely eviscerated me, leaving me a mutilated mess inside.

  “Goddamn, you fucking stubborn ass. You have been a miserable fuck since she got attacked and you took her home. The whole club knows something happened between the two of you, because you’ve been like a zombie since then. You’re fucking up shit that you normally could do with your eyes shut. You’ve rescheduled jobs over and over. If you’re not careful, the business you built from nothing is going to return to that—nothing. You sit here and stare at her like a lovesick puppy, or like you want to kill every poor bastard in here. Just go talk to her and work out whatever the fuck you have going on in that brain head of yours. ‘Cause bro, you’re gonna lose it, and you’re gonna jeopardize your place in the club if you don’t get your shit together.” He squeezed my shoulder in a show of support, but I shrugged him off and drank from my third Crown. What he was saying was not news to me. Snow had called me in his office twice in the last week to first chew my ass and then tell me to pull my fucking head out of it.

  “Whatever, man. I gotta piss. I’ll be back.” My chin lifted to him as he shook his head, and I walked off. Truthfully, I felt bad for being a dick to Joker. Deep down, I knew he was trying to help. He was here and in the club because of me. He and I had been brothers before the club, in the Marine Recon team. Much like Hollywood and Reaper, he and I had been through a lot of shit while we served. During long nights of recon and watching monitors for the fucking bad guys, when not a damn thing was happening or moving, we had talked. He was the only living soul who knew why I joined the Marine Corps, leaving behind my family and a promising future.

  Everything he said? It was all truth. The problem was, even if I wanted to take her somewhere to talk, I couldn’t leave him here alone. And that fucker, he was my friend and my brother… while everything he said was true, he should know. He should know why I couldn’t have her. I didn’t deserve her. Never would. He evidently didn’t understand like I thought he did.

  I gave up my chance at happiness eight years ago.

  However, I did feel like I owed her something to soothe the desolation I saw in her eyes after the cold words I used to slay her. Steeling my resolve, I decided I’d talk to her and tell her I wouldn’t come back after tonight. It was just too hard—no, that part I wouldn’t tell her.

  Aw, fuck it. It would be better for me to just leave her alone. After all, I had done what I needed to do—let her see who I really was. Right? A class-A prick. I hurt her bad enough she would hate me for a while and then get past this, past us.

  When I returned to the table, Joker was on his phone over near the front door where it wasn’t so loud. Sitting down with resignation, I absently drummed my fingers on the table.

  Joker came back to sit, silently, at the table, and a couple more of the girls finished up. It was just shy of midnight when Reaper came walking up to the table and leaned over to talk in my ear over the noise.

  “Look you sad-sack fucker, go talk to Kassi. You’re falling apart. We see it, you know it, but you’re too damn stubborn to fix whatever the issue is. I’m gonna be blunt. Do you love her?” Did I love her? Did I even know what that felt like anymore? I did once, but it was so fucking long ago. And it was the reason I vowed to never love again, because it had gotten me nothing but anguish.

  “I can’t.” My answer to both loving her and talking to her.

  “You can, and I’m pretty sure you do. I’m here to relieve you. Besides, Wyatt is teething, and I was glad for the break just to get away from the poor guy for a little while. His tears were gutting me, and Stephanie told me to go to give me a break. She sends her love, by the way. Look, come outside so I don’t have to yell.” He started to walk to the front door, leaving me no choice but to get up and follow him.

  “Shit. Be right back, Joker.” He tipped his chin at me and waved like the smug little motherfucker he was, as he sipped his beer. Narrowing my eyes at him, I knew then that the fucker had called Reaper.

  With a sigh of resignation, I headed to the door where Reaper was waiting for me. When we got outside, he turned to me with evident frustration.

  “Look, Hacker, trust me when I tell you life is short. Do you understand how damn lucky I was that I found Stephanie and Remi again? Because the night we met, my stubborn ass thought it was a ‘dumb idea’ to leave my contact information. I thought I wasn’t good enough, I didn’t need the complications, she didn’t need the possible heartache if I didn’t come back in one piece, blah, blah, blah. All the shit I thought I knew, just because we had known each other less than twenty-four hours. Little did I know, she was it for me. She had my beautiful little girl all on her own, and by the grace of God we found each other again. But not before things got so bad with
me that… fuck… I… well, you know Hollywood and Gunny saved me. And I know you’re aware of some of this story, but, man, I’m telling you, you will never know if you don’t try. I get that you have some shit you’re carrying with you and you keep it locked up so tight no one knows what it is, but you gotta live, man. What if she’s it for you? You gonna just let that go without a fight?” His eyes pled with me to understand. I thought maybe I did, but what if, in this case, he was wrong?

  “You know what, I’ll go try to talk to her. Okay?” I still wasn’t a 100 percent convinced he was right, but I was willing to try if nothing more than to get everyone off my back.

  We headed back inside, and he split off to go sit with Joker while I wound my way through the tables to the back hall leading to the backstage dressing area for the second time that night. Knocking on the door, I felt like my stomach was doing hula-hoops around my asshole.

  Candy answered the door, and her eyes lit up before they blatantly slid over me from head to toe. “Hey, sugar. What can I do for you? You want a private dance? Cuz if you do, I’m your girl.” She smirked, and I couldn’t help but chuckle a little. She was saucy, and I appreciated that, even if it did nothing for me.

  “Sweetheart, I appreciate the offer but I’m looking for Sparkle.” The disappointment was evident in her expression, but she covered it well and bounced back with a smile.

  “Nah, baby, she ain’t here. She left after her last dance. Said she was headed home, at least I think I heard her saying that to Cinnamon. Sure you don’t want that dance?” With a wink, she waved and closed the door after I politely declined.

  Heading to the back door, I entered the code and stepped out into the cold December air. Scanning the parking lot for her vehicle, I noted she was already gone. Nothing but an empty parking space surrounded by cars covered in winter road grime. Christmas was just around the corner, and all we had was sloppy, dirty snow left. Absently, I wondered if it would snow before Christmas to cover everything with bright, pure white. A fresh start.

  After the last snow storm two weeks ago, I broke down and bought my new Ford truck. After my baby, my rebuilt Challenger, was almost a goner when I lost control on the ice after a little old lady slid through a stop sign. Hello, big hint, nice to meet you. I had gotten lucky that time, and I wasn’t pushing it. So, the black 4x4 still smelled like “new” and leather as I started it up and waited a minute for it to warm up before taking off.

  The streets were pretty deserted tonight, and for that I was glad, because I made better time.

  Disappointment flooded me when I got to her place and her car wasn’t there. Maybe her brother had it. So I put my cut back on for a little extra windbreak and tromped up the stairs two at a time before rapping loudly on her door since the doorbell was dangling by a thin cord. What a fucking shithole. Surely, she made enough to stay in a better place than this…

  No answer.

  I pounded again.

  Nothing.

  Shit. Where was she?

  On my last round of rapping hard on the flimsy door with the side of my fist, her neighbor’s door flew open. A scowling, scrawny dude jumped out, and I damn near pulled my gun on the fucker. God, I hated it when people popped up out of nowhere. My heart was ricocheting off my rib cage.

  When he took me in, his eyes stopped on my hand where it remained hidden in my cut, gripping my pistol, and his expression changed from pissed off, “I’m a bad ass,” to “oh shit” in 2.2 seconds. I almost fucking laughed. Almost. Okay, maybe I did just a little.

  “They aren’t here.” Okay. No shit, Sherlock.

  “Do you know where they might have gone?” It was late for fuck’s sake. Where would they have gone at this time of night?

  “I didn’t ask. Sorry.” He looked over my shoulder, then down at the parking lot. Probably trying to see if there was a big bad “biker gang” with me coming to kill him. Dumbass. He abruptly closed his door, and I heard the chain slide.

  You know I had to laugh at that.

  Well, hell. I guess maybe this was a sign. Leave her the fuck alone. Tucking my hands into my cut, my trip down the stairs was a lot slower than the one on the way up.

  My talk with Reaper and Joker had me thinking. I hadn’t been myself lately, that was true. So that night, I made a promise to myself to pull my head out of my ass and move on. With time, she would get over me. A tiny little voice at the back of my head whispered, but will you get over her?

  “Drive”—Incubus

  SOMETIMES WHEN I COULDN’T sleep, I drove around looking at better places to live. My dream destinations, you could call it. When I got home after my last night, Matt was still awake, and I was too wound up after my last dance, so I knew I wouldn’t sleep anytime soon. Which is why, at a little after midnight, Matt and I were driving around looking at houses and nice apartments like neighborhood stalkers.

  “Man, look, Kassi, that one would be nice. All the houses are really nice looking around it. It even has a two-car garage. Maybe I could get an old car and work on it.” Matt was looking out with his nose against the glass, steaming up the window as he spoke. Sometimes he reminded me so much of when he was a little boy.

  It was a cute house. Older and kind of small, but obviously well taken care of. It even had a fenced-in backyard. I sighed, as much in love with it as Matt seemed. Maybe I should check into it. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to them. Maybe we would get lucky and it wasn’t ready to rent yet and would be available by the time we could move in. I jotted down the number on the “for rent” sign and tucked it in my purse without Matt seeing. No need to get his hopes up.

  “If I am able to get a nursing position right away, I’m thinking of getting me a small car and giving you this one. I want you to have a reliable car to take to college, not an old beater you have to work on every day just to keep it running.” Making a mental note to call the landlord tomorrow, I slowly pulled away from the curb. It had been warmer today and the dirty snow started to melt, leaving some spots on the road a sheet of ice after it froze with the dropping temps. I didn’t need to wreck the car before I could give it to him.

  “Kass, don’t stretch yourself to make sure I can take this car. We have a little time. We’ll worry about it later.” He smiled at me, and I had to smile at his endless optimism and maturity. While I still felt like he had to grow up too fast, I was so damn proud of him. “Think the Mickey Dee’s drive-thru is open still? We should get an ice cream,” he mused. Only a teenager would want ice cream in the middle of winter. Aw, who was I kidding? I wanted it too.

  “Let’s go see!” We laughed like two little kids and drove toward the golden arches.

  After a brief discussion with the woman who owned the little house, I was pulling up and parking in the driveway. My hands were shaking, and I was nervous going to look at this house when I knew it wasn’t in the budget yet. But I had dreamt of it all night, so after I dropped Matt off at school, I called the number I had scratched on the napkin in my purse. Now here I was meeting with Nancy, the owner.

  She stood at the door by the driveway and smiled at me as I parked and shut off my car. I waved at her before grabbing my purse and climbing out into the biting cold air.

  “Whoa! That wind is a killer!” I blurted out when the wind gusted and almost stole my breath.

  “Come on in. I keep the electric and heat on, so the pipes don’t freeze. It’ll be warmer inside.” She opened the door, and I followed her in, closing the door behind me.

  The house smelled of fresh paint, and there were plain-Jane, but new, white appliances in the kitchen we stepped into. The tags were still on them. Taking a glance around, she told me to walk around and check it out. So, I slipped off my boots and beanie by the door and stepped into the cute living room with a big picture window that looked out over the front yard. There was a small eating area with an opening that looked into the kitchen. The hardwood floors had been either well taken care of or recently redone as they gleamed in the sunlight streaming in through
the open blinds.

  “So, what did you say you do for a living, Ms. Donahue?” Ugh. I hadn’t. Clearing my throat, I thought about my answer, sure she was going to tell me to get lost.

  “Ummm, well, I was working as a waitress”—my official job title had been waitress—“but I’m graduating from nursing school in a few days.” I had taken one of my finals this morning after speaking with Nancy. “I’m hoping to get a job at Lakes Regional after I pass my boards. So, I have to be honest, Miss Nancy, I don’t know if I can afford this house right now.” My heart broke a little as I turned to look at her.

  “It’s just Nancy. Goodness, don’t make me feel older than I am! And what a small world, I just retired as a nurse! When this house came up for sale next door to me, I decided it was a good retirement investment since I could keep an eye on it myself rather than messing with a rental company. My sons helped me remodel it. So tell me a little about what you want to do as a nurse. How have your grades been?” She looked calculating, and I had to admit, this slightly Amazonian-looking woman made me a little nervous despite her steel-grey hair and kind eyes.

  Well, here goes nothing. “If my grades on my exams are good, I should graduate with honors. I know they say we should all work Med/Surg for a while after we graduate, but I have been hoping I could get one of the internships to work in the Emergency Department. I’ve already talked a little with Tom, the head nurse of the ED, and he said he couldn’t guarantee anything as far as my acceptance would go, but that they would have two openings for the internships starting the first of February. Of course, I would have to apply once I take and pass my boards, but I’m optimistic.” My heart was heavy, but I tried to smile.

  “Hmmm… well, would you be the only one on the lease?” That calculating gleam never left her face.

  “No, well, yes, ma’am. What I mean is, I would be the only one on the lease, but my younger brother will be living here as well. He’s a senior this year, and he turns eighteen in May. Ummm, our parents… passed away….” It was still so hard to say even years later. “I was able to get custody of him. It’s kind of a long story, but anyway, he would live with me until he left for college.” Just talking about my parents brought that oh-so-familiar pang to my heart.