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

by Kristine Allen

People wanted to argue it was a gateway drug, which was bullshit. I’d never had the desire to use anything else in my life. What for? What I used worked. The people who wanted to say it led to them using other things probably had addictive personalities to begin with. Hell, to my knowledge, my parents never progressed past weed either. Of course, I wouldn’t really know since I hadn’t heard from them in years. I knew they were still alive because my uncle Gunnar talked to my mother periodically. She could call her brother but not her fucking son.

  As I sat smoking, I made a mental note to call Snow in a bit. He was usually an early riser, so I shouldn’t have to wait too long. I would thank him for keeping everything between the two of us, and bounce some ideas off him. Not that I didn’t trust my brothers, but I wanted as few people as possible to know Sera and Ty were here. Hacker had too much on his damn plate right now, so I wouldn’t even tell him.

  Taking another hit off the quickly dwindling joint, I gazed around the backyard, checking for anything out of the ordinary. After sitting there in the quiet for a few minutes, I stubbed out the last of it, leaving the roach, which I brought in and flushed. No need to leave evidence on my back porch since it was still illegal here, right?

  Pouring another cup of coffee, I sipped the black brew and scrolled through the news on my phone. Nothing exciting.

  It was probably late enough, so I dialed Snow and waited for him to answer.

  “Joker. Everything okay?” Snow wasted no time on small talk.

  “Yeah, Prez. Just wanted you to know I’m back.” Filling him in on what had transpired, I also thanked him for keeping everything on the down low.

  “Not a problem. So, is she staying or is this temporary?” Leave it to Snow to cut to the chase and the bone.

  “Shit, I don’t know. I’m hoping she’ll stay, but I guess time will tell.”

  “Think she can handle club life?”

  Honestly, I didn’t know. I’d like to think she was tough and could handle anything, but after what she’d just been through, who the hell knew.

  “Of course. She’s tough.”

  “Okay, because we don’t need a repeat of Hollywood’s situation. I love that girl, but sometimes I’d still like to kick her ass for putting herself, and in turn the club, on the line.” He was referring to when Becca had tripped out, thinking Hollywood was messing around on her because he was pulling security at the strip club we owned. Of course, it was partially his fault because he didn’t want to tell her where he was pulling duty because it was club business. It would have been okay for him to tell her they’d had some issues and the members were taking turns as extra security, without giving details. But who was I to judge?

  “I hear you, Prez. But I need to tell you, if that asshole shows his face up here, he’s dead. I will not think twice. I just wanted you to know. I’m not saying I’ll be stupid about it, but if he shows up, he won’t be leaving the area unless it’s in a body bag.” Just thinking about it was starting to piss me off. I knew it was time to change the subject.

  “Son, all I ask is that you use some common sense and keep me in the loop. Don’t do anything to jeopardize yourself or the club. While we have a good relationship with the cops around here, we don’t need a spotlight on us, if you know what I’m saying.” It cracked me up that he referred to me as “son” when he was only in his late thirties to early forties.

  “Roger that, Prez. I’m totally tracking.” We spoke a little longer before he ended the call and said he’d see me Monday. By the time I hung up, the sun was just starting to shine through the windows.

  The door to the guest room opened quietly before I heard soft footsteps on the wood floor. “Mmmm, do I smell coffee?”

  My eyes raised to see Sera walking into the kitchen. Still a sight for sore eyes, even bruised all to hell, my heart thumped in my chest. It took every bit of restraint I had not to touch her. So badly, I wanted to push her against the counter, drop her little pink sleep shorts, and fuck her through the wall.

  Goddamn, I need to get a grip! I was losing my ever-loving mind. She wasn’t anywhere near up for that, and I’d likely traumatize her for life if I did.

  “Uh, yeah, it’s not super fresh, but help yourself. I’m going to get dressed. Whenever y’all are ready, let me know and we’ll head out to the furniture store. Well, first to grab some warmer clothes for you and Ty.” I couldn’t get away from her fast enough. The X-rated thoughts in my head were on the verge of making my sleeping pants tent embarrassingly prominent.

  Jesus effing Christ, how was I going to survive having her living in my house and not being able to touch her? This had to be the worst form of torture imaginable.

  “Get to You”—Michael Ray

  THE FURNITURE STORE WAS closed on Sundays, so we headed over to the next bigger town, I guess. It still didn’t seem very big to me. This area of the world was small. It was hard to wrap my head around Kayde moving from a place as big as San Antonio to this tiny corner of the world.

  We went to a chain store, and I’m not gonna lie, I was like a dang kid in a candy store. It was tough to reel in my tastes and things I would want and just get a few necessities. Kayde insisted he didn’t care and to get whatever I felt he needed. We found a couch and love seat set that we both loved. It had power recliners built in and a cubby for a TV remote or whatever else you wanted to shove in it. He got a big-ass man TV, a dining room table, and tables for the living room.

  Then he said he needed to get a bed.

  Oh sweet baby Jesus, that conjured up images best left in my head. All it took was for him to say “bed” and I was imagining him naked and me doing very bad things with him on said bed. My face had to be flaming as bright as Dorothy’s ruby red slippers.

  Despite my ordeal with Lawrence and the savagery he subjected me to, I still wanted Kayde something fierce. Obviously, he didn’t feel the same way though, and it made me feel dirty and ruined. Despair swirled through my heart, circulating through my body at the painful realization that I disgusted him now. Wrapping my arms around myself, I watched as Kayde laid on several different mattresses with Ty. Each time, he’d look over at Ty, asking him what he thought. Ty, in his young mind, thought they were all perfect.

  Watching the two of them interact was so sweet, and it made me realize, once again, how much Ty had lost out on by losing his father. Having a father figure was something he was soaking up like a little sponge. There were little things Kayde did that Ty imitated, whether consciously or by rote.

  Kayde’s hair was always in a sexy, haphazard mess because he had a habit of running his hands through it when he was angry, nervous, or thinking. Ty had begun to randomly run his hands through his own dark locks, leaving them a hot mess.

  Then he chewed on his lip. I’d noticed it was more prevalent when he was trying not to smoke, so I guessed it may have been from when he was on duty and couldn’t smoke. Then again, I had no idea how long he’d been smoking, because he didn’t when we were young. That was something I really wished he could quit, because the nurse in me went crazy every time I saw him light up.

  That got me thinking about how much we had changed from those young idealistic kids we once were. He and I had been friends for over fourteen years before he left. Then, outside of when we had that one amazing experience when Tyler died, we pretty much went our separate ways for eight years. People could evolve a lot over eight years, and we had. Though I had been dealt a really shitty hand, I got Ty out of the whole thing, and if we could get past this, maybe I would get Kayde.

  Shit, I didn’t mean to allow myself to think that way. It was like a tug-of-war within myself. Wavering back and forth from wanting him and wanting to allow myself to open my heart to him, then feeling unworthy and distrustful. When I thought I had come to terms with the hurricane that was my life, and feeling I could move on, it was like my subconscious self said, “Nope! Just kidding, you can’t have him because he’ll just leave you as soon as he knows you love him.”

  Then ther
e was that inner voice telling me that there was no way he would want to be with me now that I was soiled and fucked up. I mean, really, what guy wanted to be intimate with someone who has been raped? Used and abused by another man?

  If I sounded like I was all over the place with my emotions, it’s because I was. Sometimes I felt like I had no idea which way was up. Like life was tossing me about willy-nilly and I was spinning and swirling in an endless vortex. Sometimes I hated myself; others I was content in my skin.

  And the nightmares. Oh my God.

  It was like reliving that shit every damn night. The first night I slept like a log because I was so exhausted. The next few nights were awful.

  The furniture was delivered early in the week, and it had included a full-size bed for the third bedroom. It was a total surprise, because I hadn’t realized he ordered it, which was another big clue that he didn’t want me in his bed. What a kick in the gut. It was becoming more and more clear that he no longer felt the same way about me as he had before when he told me he loved me and wanted me to move up here with him.

  My first night in the bed, I woke soaked to the skin with sweat, heart thundering, and shaking like a damn leaf. It was so bad, I had to change the sheets. Disgusting.

  Each day, he left for his shop and we were left at home. We had talked about not having me out and about too much in case Lawrence had tracked us here, but I was going stir-crazy in this house, no matter how beautiful it was.

  Being financially dependent on him sucked too. My brother had helped me close out my account, so it wasn’t like I didn’t have money, but without knowing when I would be able to go back to work, I had to be frugal with it.

  If I was honest, I was more than a little miserable. It seemed we hardly saw Kayde anymore. He was always gone, either working or doing stuff with the club. Several nights he had to work late doing extra security at an exotic dance club they owned. Part of me was eaten up with jealousy at the thought of him watching strippers, but then it wasn’t like we were in a relationship, so I had to tamp that shit down with a quickness.

  One night he didn’t come home at all. That had me climbing the wall. Yes, he had texted me to let me know he was staying at the clubhouse because he was exhausted after working all day and then pulling security, so he was going to crash in his room at their clubhouse. Not being familiar with motorcycle clubs, in my mind I pictured a treehouse or the Mickey Mouse clubhouse, and it seemed weird that a bunch of grown men would have one. Anyway, the worries were there, wondering what he was doing. Was there a woman with him? Did he just not want to be around me at all?

  It made me want to leave. Not that I could, and I understood that. But I had begun to pray that they found Lawrence so I could go home and end this purgatory-like existence.

  Christmas was in a few days, and I hadn’t been able to go out and get gifts. We had gotten a tree that first day, and Ty and I decorated it. Kayde had brought home several gifts, already wrapped, and set them under the tree. One was labeled for me; the rest were for Ty. But I wanted to get some gifts for Ty, and I still needed to get his gifts from Santa. And I really wanted to get a gift for Kayde.

  Reaching a decision, I pulled out my phone and opened the Uber app. Holy shit, this podunk area actually has Uber. Requesting a car to take me to Spirit Lake, which seemed the best option for shopping possibilities, I put Ty’s shoes on and zipped him into his cool little winter coat Kayde had insisted on getting him. It was an actual leather jacket with a zip-out quilted liner. For a three-year-old kid, it was insane, but cute as all get-out. It was a miniature of the one Kayde wore. It was more than cute; it was a-fricking-dorable.

  The Uber was driven by a sweet older lady who talked my ear off the whole way, while Ty sat quietly playing on my phone. Thankfully, she had recommendations of where I could get what I wanted, because I had no idea where I was going. Mabel, that was her name, even waited for me without charging me.

  Kayde’s gift would be ready later today. It had cost me extra to have it rushed, but it was worth it. Next, we hit Wally World where I was able to sneak gifts in the cart, hidden under my coat, while Ty played on the phone again. People could say what they will, phones made great babysitters if they were used for short periods of time and safely. To use as a distraction to buy gifts right under his pert little nose, it worked great. I would never leave him unattended with it.

  Some things for dinner completed my shopping experience. Mabel was still waiting when I exited the front doors and was more than happy to bring me home, stopping by to pick up Kayde’s gift on the way.

  When she dropped us off at the front door, even helping me carry my bags in, I gave her a generous cash tip. Maybe this small-town living wasn’t so bad. People were much more personable than in San Antonio, where there were so many people, you just got lost in the crowd.

  Ty was tired and getting cranky by that time, so I put him down for a nap, set up dinner in the slow cooker, then settled in at the new table to wrap my gifts. Shoving them under the tree, I realized I may have gone a little overboard. Oops. Last, I put the Santa gifts on the top shelf of the entryway closet, hidden in a black trash bag.

  Feeling quite pleased with the results from my day, I was just congratulating myself on getting all of it done before Kayde came home, when I heard the voice that made my belly flutter.

  “What in the holy hell happened in here?” He came in looking like pure sex on a stick in his motorcycle boots, distressed jeans, black T-shirt, and leather jacket. Peering at him with wide eyes and pursed lips, I then glanced around and realized it looked like Santa’s workshop exploded. There were bits of paper all over every surface, rolls of wrapping paper unrolling across the floor, and empty plastic shopping bags spilling out of the trash can. There was even a string of curling ribbon hanging from the dining room light fixture. I honestly had no idea how that happened.

  “Oh! I’m cleaning it up, I swear! I didn’t expect you home so early.” Guilt at making such a mess in his beautiful home washed over me. Scrambling to gather up the bits of paper and ribbon scraps, I had just stood back up when I felt his massive hand wrap gently around my arm. It was sweet that he was so slow and gentle when he did deign himself to touch me.

  “Sera.” His brow furrowed in consternation. “Where did all of this come from?”

  “Oh! Well, I went out. I needed to finish Christmas shopping.”

  “You what? Sera, I specifically told you not to leave the house. What if he was out there and saw you? Or someone working for or with him? We talked about this.”

  “I can’t sit in your house twenty-four seven, Kayde. I was going crazy staring at the walls in here. I’m not used to just sitting around doing nothing. I’ve washed all the laundry, cleaned the house, and I’ve watched so much PJ Masks, I may have to have my head read. I was careful”—I really wasn’t and felt guilty because I hadn’t thought once about who could have followed me—“so there’s nothing to worry about.” That, I really did believe, because I knew it was highly unlikely Lawrence was still in the country, let alone able to find me all the way up here.

  “All you had to do was tell me, and I would have taken you.”

  “Really? When? Because you’re never here anymore.” He had the nerve to look guilty. It was quite evident he’d been avoiding me. “I might as well get a job and get my own place here if I’m just going to sit by myself all of the time. If we’re cramping your style, I wish you’d just say so.” The last came out a little childish and belligerent, but I was pissed and being irrational.

  Dropping my arm like it was a hot potato, he did the hair thing, leaving it looking just-fucked sexy. Damn him. Why was he making me want him even when I was pissed at him?

  “That’s not true. I’ve just had a lot of stuff I’ve been taking care of.” His voice didn’t ring true, and I was pretty sure it translated to “I’ve been doing lots of stuff to keep me away from you.”

  “I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to make you feel a
bandoned. Honest. I’ve had a lot of clients I had to squeeze in from when I left to get you. Not that it’s your fault, I’m just trying to get caught up.” In typical man fashion, he paused and sniffed the air. “Something smells good. You cooking something?”

  Preening that he thought my cooking smelled good, I couldn’t help but let a slight smile slip. “Yeah, I made stew. I thought it would be nice for you to have something when you got home, and since I didn’t know when that would be, I thought stew would hold over well.”

  The pitter-patter of pint-sized feet on hardwood floors preceded Ty’s excited realization that his new favorite person was home. I wasn’t the only one missing Kayde. Ty asked where he was no less than ten times a day. More often than not, he was sleeping by the time his large hero returned home.

  To his credit, Kayde scooped Ty up in the air. That’s when I saw he was dressed only in his T-shirt and Superman underwear. “Ty! Where are your pants?”

  “I taked them off!” Oh dear Lord. At least he left his underwear on.

  After getting him to the potty, Kayde brought him out, with pants, and set him at the table where I had dished up bowls for all of us. We ate in relative silence, broken by Ty’s occasional chatter.

  By the time I headed to bed, we still hadn’t really talked anymore. Thankfully, he either didn’t want to talk, or he knew I wanted to be mad for a while. Lying in bed, I stared at the wall, tears running down my face. How could he not know I just needed him to hold me? We’d slept in the same bed on the trip up and I’d slept like a baby, spooned close to him. There didn’t seem to be a problem then, but now I was suddenly a leper.

  The only conclusion I kept circling back to was that he must have someone here, despite telling me he didn’t. I just didn’t know what else it could be, unless he was completely and totally repulsed by me, but felt sorry for me on the road.

  I’d inspected myself carefully when I showered this morning and all my bruises were gone, with the exception of a few barely visible spots on my back. Outwardly, there was nothing the average person would notice different about me. Inside, I felt very different, but I looked the same. Mostly.