Wayward Son (The Wayward Trilogy Book 1)

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Wayward Son (The Wayward Trilogy Book 1) Page 1

by Mandi Konesni




  Wayward Son

  Mandi Konesni

  Dark Leopards MC West Michigan Book 3

  Wayward Souls Trilogy Part 1

  Copyright © 2021 by Liliom Press

  ISBN 978-1-946021-08-3

  Cover Design by Soxsational Cover Art

  All rights reserved

  Dark Leopards Characters are copyrighted to original authors and used with permission from Darlene Tallman, Maria Vickers, and Christine Michelle.

  This one goes out to all the black sheep, the misfits, the ones that don't belong. You'll find your 'normal', everyone does. Be unique. Be beautiful. Be you. Love yourself and fuck the rest.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Wayward Son (Wayward Souls Trilogy, #1)

  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

  Epilogue

  Read on for a Sneak Peek of Part 2... | Wayward Soldier | Coming Soon!

  Chapter One

  About The Author

  Other Releases

  Acknowledgments

  This novella was first published in the Dark Leopards MC- Tall, Dark & Dangerous anthology, benefiting a children's charity. It has been reworked and expanded to flesh it out into a full story while staying in the same universe, and there will be two additional books from me for this series.

  You can keep up with all the authors as they explore new heartbreaks, loves, and troubles in the Dark Leopards world and bring new characters to life at https://darkleopardsmc.com/

  Don't worry, you'll keep spotting your faves lurking around too! There's always something going on with these blasted cats and assorted other creatures. You won't want to miss a second! :)

  Chapter One

  Fingers loosely wrapped around the neck of a bottle of Jack, he scowled, watching the small crowd in front of him. His 'family', if you could call it that. They'd been estranged longer than they'd been together, or at least it felt that way. Thian had always been the black sheep of the group. His siblings had kids, houses. They'd gotten degrees and were excelling in their fields.

  On the other hand, there was Thian. The loner, the social outcast. Spent too much time making money in various legal and illegal ways to pay much attention in school, meaning he barely earned a diploma. It wasn't that he wasn't intelligent, he just didn't care about schooling all that much. It wasn't like he was going to use any of that shit in his daily life. No, he'd needed instruction on survival.

  When he'd gotten arrested just out of high school on a gun charge, almost all of his family had abandoned him. He'd served his two years, emerging bitter and angry at the world. He still was, in some ways. He'd matured in other ways, however. Swigging another drink from the bottle, he scrubbed a weary hand over his face.

  “How long do I have to play this goddamned charade? Ain't a single one of them paying attention to us, we said our hello's, we might as well just go.”

  His uncle was the other misfit of the family, with much the same life Thian had lived. When forced to attend the family gatherings to keep up appearances, they sat on the outskirts, alienated from the very people who'd demanded their presence. He didn't know why they even bothered. It wasn't like their presence or absence made much of a difference to anyone. Few noticed they were there. Those that did, did their best to skirt around their location, to avoid getting close enough to risk notice.

  “I'm giving it another half hour, then I'm headed up to Crystal Lake for the week. Fishing, camping, off-grid... that's the life. These fuckers can't get ahold of me if the cell ain't working. You should try it sometime.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “Ah, I wish I could, Uncle Jake. I got a meeting to attend for the club, one I can't miss. Feel free to have a few drinks for me, though. Maybe next time I'll tag along.”

  His uncle sobered, watching him with careful eyes before he spoke. “You be careful, Thian. I know they took you in when the rest of the world cast you out, but you and I both know loyalty can be bought and sold just like anything else. Watch your back. I don't want to have to visit you behind bars again, son.”

  Thian sighed, sitting down the bottle he'd been drinking from. He understood his uncle's concerns, truly. The shit he did now was even shadier than what he'd gotten charged with in his late teens. Still, he had a family behind him. What they did, in the end, they did for good reason. They never went after someone who didn't deserve it. People may look down on them or judge their methods, but the fact was, in a lot of cases, they ended up saving lives. You couldn't argue with the results.

  He knew his uncle was worried, but he didn't have cause to be. The club had rescued him before he'd gotten himself into some deeper shit. They'd held out a lifeline, and he'd taken it.

  “I promise, we're careful. I trust them at my back, and they trust me at theirs. We may not be a family in the traditional sense, but we're family in the ways that matter. They ain't gonna let me get caught up again, I promise you that. Hell, one of 'em would take the rap for me if it came to that, same as I'd do for them.”

  He meant it, too. After the fiasco in his teens, he'd realized he didn't want to stay in Grand Haven. Why bother? His family didn't want him, the town didn't want him. There was nothing there to keep him hanging around. He'd drifted through the US, finally landing himself in Texas. It wasn't where he planned on settling, but it was a decent distraction for a while, and that's what mattered at the time. Somewhere to stay a bit, think about his future and where he went from there. Figure out his plans.

  As expected, when you're a drifter, honest employment doesn't come easy. He had very few options, and washing dishes under the table didn't appeal to him in the slightest. Thian had gravitated to what he knew... the outcasts. The edges of society people pretended not to see until they ended up on the evening news. Then they sniffed in distaste, saying they'd known all along that person was no good. Or that they'd gotten what they deserved.

  Hypocrites, the fucking lot of them. Thian didn't know a single person who hadn't done something they were ashamed of at some point in their lives. Hell, most didn't even have the decency to be ashamed, but still judged others. He'd learned the true irony there in Texas. The group he'd been running with sold whatever they could get their hands on. Drugs, guns, liquor. Even women.

  He found selling women distasteful, so he didn't participate, but he knew they did it. It wasn't like they'd hidden it. They'd pressured him to join in, but he'd told them to fuck off, in no uncertain terms. It wasn't his business what they did on the side, but he wasn't getting involved. Drugs, guns, and other illicit shit, he didn't mind. What was it to him, if a few assholes got their kicks as long as they paid good damn money for it? He lined his pockets with his share and ignored the parts of the business he didn't want to participate in.

  Until one day he'd seen the gang 'leader' dragging a slight female across the room, towards the basement where they kept their goods for sale. She couldn't have been even sixteen. He'd guess thirteen or fourteen, if he had to pick an age. Thian had seen red. Grown women were one thin
g, they'd chosen to get into the life and chosen to get into the fucking cars with strangers. This was a child. Someone's daughter.

  He couldn't sit by and watch as they held her in the rank ass room awaiting a buyer. Knowing what the buyer would likely be interested in made him sick to his stomach. He'd put up with a lot of bullshit and overlooked a lot of things, but this was his line in the sand. He wasn't crossing it.

  He didn't give a fuck about the women, they were grown enough to make stupid damn choices that got them into their predicaments. Children? Nope. No deal. The choice to intervene had begun the trajectory of his life from that point on, he just hadn't realized it at the time.

  Thian had stood up to his group, demanded they let the girl go, and gotten shot for his troubles. The pain was indescribable, worse than anything he'd felt before. The force of it had thrown him to the floor, leaving him a bit out of it, but he hadn't been so far gone that he didn't feel and see the changes his body had gone through. His fingers had clenched tight, claws springing forth from between the knuckles.

  He saw the skin split, the way it turned white from the pressure before the lethal points broke through. His hair on his arms lengthened, becoming thicker and darker as pain wracked his joints, his spine twisting. It felt like every part of his body was breaking, realigning itself into something new.

  When it was all over and the pain had retreated, he was staring at a cat's forelegs where his hands and arms had been just moments before. The shock must have done something, as he felt the strain of his body shifting once more, leaving him panting on the cement floor.

  It was only then that he realized he could hear shouting and gunfire. What the fuck was going on now? Dragging himself up, clutching his side where the bullet had gone through, he glanced around, spotting a group of leather-clad men taking on the bumbling group of fools he'd been with. They were obviously losing. Fucking good. He wasn't gonna weep for 'em.

  As he watched, the young girl was led up from the basement and ushered out of the house by one of them, as a final gunshot silenced the leader of their little gang, sending the rest running. Thian would laugh if shit wasn't so dire. They talked a lot of shit, but in the end, they were a goddamn bunch of fucking cowards. As one of the men turned to Thian, he froze, forward momentum stopping. He wasn't ready to die, but he'd be damned if he'd do it while fleeing like a little bitch. He'd had nothing to do with them bringing the girl here, hell, he'd gotten shot for attempting to rescue her himself. If it was his time to go, so be it.

  Chin lifting in defiance, he met the steely gaze of the first person's eyes as they stared him down. He could feel the warmth of his blood pooling through his fingers, dripping onto the floor. Every instinct told him to run, but he ignored it. He wouldn't get very far, not bleeding the way he was. Depending on how long they'd been spying on them from outside, they may very well know he wasn't involved. It was a slim chance, but a chance nonetheless. He was the only one who'd had lead in him before they started shooting, if they'd noticed.

  It'd explain why they hadn't riddled him with their own bullets yet, at the very least. He felt unsteady on his feet, but wasn't sure if it was smart to simply turn and walk out the door. Hesitantly, he moved to do just that and test the theory, when a large hand on his shoulder stopped him.

  “You're not going anywhere like that, boy. Sit.”

  The male was older than him, more solidly built. As he pushed him into the battered chair behind them, Thian couldn't summon the energy to fight much. He was damn tired, and they didn't seem inclined to shoot his ass, so he'd rather sit before he did something foolish like attempt to run and look guilty. Someone broke off to search the place, returning with a small first aid kit, handing it to the first man silently.

  Stunned, Thian lifted his arm when directed, allowing the male to pull the fabric from the wound. He inspected it to make sure the bullet had gone straight through before he poured alcohol over it, laughing as Thian cursed and nearly bolted upright from the chair before being not-too-gently pushed back into it.

  “If you're going to take a bullet for your principles, son, you gotta deal with the consequences. Looks like it went straight through. Gonna hurt like a bitch for a few days, though, until it heals up. Can you stand?”

  A few days? A gunshot wound wouldn't heal in a few days. Especially not one that'd gone under his ribs like this one had. He was damn lucky it hadn't hit anything vital. A few days? Try a few damn weeks, at least.

  At the man's question, he nodded. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be steady on his feet, but he wasn't going to lie here and whine, either. If the group of men with guns who'd taken over their base of operations wanted him to stand, fuck it, he'd be standing. Glancing around, he realized he hadn't heard movement from any of the others since he'd realized they'd been infiltrated. He doubted any of them had made it and he couldn't dredge up much sympathy.

  Getting to his feet, he allowed them to lead him from the building. Well, allowed was the wrong word. They had split up into two smaller groups. One was in front of him, the other at his back, with two at his sides. He really didn't have much of a choice in the matter, so he walked in the middle of them, wondering what the fuck was going on.

  Once outside, the one who the others seemed to defer to turned and looked at him for long moments, before glancing at another behind him. Some silent conversation seemed to be going on, before the older male clasped his shoulder, almost in companionship.

  “We're taking you to Six.”

  Chapter Two

  Turned out, Six was the President of the local motorcycle club, the Dark Leopards. He hadn't been imagining what he'd seen when he'd been in agony after the bullet struck. He'd changed from human to animal, then back again. He'd felt it. He had to come to grips with the idea that he was a shifter, a human that could take the form of an animal at will.

  With that came the knowledge his uptight mother, who had disowned him for his misdeeds, must have had her own skeletons hogtied in her closet. He snorted. Go figure. He'd always felt like the black sheep of the family, now he knew he was the black leopard. Quite literally. He had no idea who his father was, nor would he bother to ask. His mother would likely shut the door in his face regardless, unless it was at a function she'd demanded his appearance at.

  Didn't really matter, one way or another. Either way, it irrevocably changed his view of his family, the world, and his place in it. The male who had been the first to step up and help him ended up being called Knox. Eventually, Thian had grown to see him as sort of a surrogate father within the club. When he became a Prospect, Knox vouched for him. When he needed to learn about being a shifter, to handle learning what he could and couldn't do, Knox was there with a guiding hand, if somewhat exasperated patience.

  Thian had grown up pretty damn quick, all things considered. Once he'd learned he was demonstrably not human, he'd had to learn a new way of life. A new way of communicating. Some shifters could talk with their cats, carry on conversations. They could feel each other's emotions, the cat would protect the human as much as the human would protect the cat.

  He wasn't so lucky. His cat was a fickle sonuvabitch. Thian supposed he shouldn't have expected anything less. Most days, he could manage to get a growl out of it, but that was pushing it. The only time he ever heard the cat audibly was when it was demanding something... a run, food, sleep. In general, they had a claws-off relationship. They were each aware of the other, but preferred to be left alone.

  When it came to work, the club was sprawling, with their hands in various legal and illicit enterprises. Thankfully, there were none Thian found personally distasteful. It was easy for him to fit right into the club business as if he'd been there all along. Eventually it'd been decided that there needed to be a Dark Leopards presence in Michigan, to be closer to Canada where they could then funnel things across the border between the two sections of the club.

  Several chapters were formed from the original, some staying in various parts of Texas, others shift
ed to areas around Michigan. They'd be two separate arms of the whole, staying in contact with each other and working together, simply moving supplies through different states. It'd broaden their reach, certainly. Together, this would open both Canada and Mexico for their needs.

  Thian had elected to follow Knox, as had a few others. His decision had been no surprise to anyone, really. They ended up in Kalamazoo. It was a bit too close to Grand Haven for his liking, but his loyalty to his chapter and Knox was paramount. He doubted any of his family would migrate this far. If they did, he certainly didn't have to entertain them. He couldn't imagine they'd be impressed with his new life here, or the club. They'd be scandalized.

  He'd been patched in Texas to become a full member of the club after doing his time as a Prospect. When they'd moved to Kalamazoo, roles had to be redefined. Knox became the President, Gray took on the VP position. Snow was the Sargent at Arms, and Thian himself was promoted to Enforcer. It was a role he didn't mind in the least. He was the one most likely to resolve situations with fists before words, the one to shoot first, ask questions later... sometimes never. Protecting the club, the members, and their assets came easily to him.

  As he'd grown in his role, he'd switched from the beat-up bike he'd been riding across the country to a custom Night Rod, sleek and fast, entirely done in black chrome. As the black leopard in their ragtag pack, he felt it suited him just fine. Didn't help that it drew attention. When he pulled up, people noticed. If there was bad blood, they left. It was easy to tell who to keep a closer eye on in the city, you just had to watch who scattered in their presence.

  Generally, those who didn't have a problem didn't need to run at the sight of them. Thian tended to be antisocial when he was out of the clubhouse itself, but it wasn't that he didn't want to interact. He was just more focused on observing. Silently listening to the conversations around him, taking mental notes of those to monitor, situations to be leery of.

 

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