Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet

by Hayley Faiman

  He’ll do whatever he can to win.

  He’ll do whatever he can to hurt Brent.

  My poor tigritsa is going to have to fight.

  BRENTLEE

  “You had s-e-x with him, didn’t you?” Kent asks as she plates the sandwiches she brought with her for the kids.

  “I’m not talking about this right now,” I say as I widen my eyes and look down at Bear and Stella who are watching with rapt anticipation as Kentlee loads their plates with chips.

  “They are more concerned with these chips then what you’re saying,” she shrugs before handing them each a plate. “Go into the living room. You guys can camp out in front of the T.V.”

  I roll my eyes at my sister.

  “Now, tell me,” she orders as she sits down. I watch her take Ellie and place her onto her little portable high chair.

  Ellie is beautiful. Blonde hair and blue eyes, she looks like the perfect combination of both Fury and Kentlee. I see a little bit of Stella in her as well. I know she’s going to be gorgeous, and I can only hope that she is brave enough to stand up to her father, or the poor thing will never date, ever.

  “We slept together last night,” I confess as I watch Kentlee place some goldfish snacks in front of Ellie on the little tray.

  “Ha! I knew it. I could tell,” she says with a huge smile on her face.

  “What do you mean by that?” I ask, plating our sandwiches.

  “I mean, you look happier. Less stressed, and freshly laid,” she grins. I roll my eyes.

  “Shut up,” I mumble.

  We spend the rest of the afternoon talking about the kids and playing with the kids. Luckily, she doesn’t ask any real details about Bates and me—or our reunion.

  I leave her to watch the kids while I get ready for work, and I can’t hide my smile once I walk inside of the bedroom. I look around at Bates and my commingled things, and it makes me feel at peace.

  How on earth I can leave one tyrannical crazy person and practically hop into another man’s bed and be happy about it is beyond me. But I am. I’m so happy.

  If Bates was expecting me to carry that Old Lady status he speaks of, I don’t think I would be feeling quite as peaceful as I do. It would come with all kinds of emotions. But the way it is now, a physical exclusivity with nothing more—that, I’m okay with.

  “Brent!” Kentlee yells. I open the door with a towel wrapped around my body, in pure panic.

  “What,” I cry as I run into the living room.

  “I forgot to give you this.” She hands me a bag of clothes and my heart slowly chills the hell out.

  “First off, you scared the crap out of me. Secondly, what’s in here?”

  “I’m sorry, Brent, I just didn’t want you to get dressed without it. It’s stuff you can wear down to the clubhouse. Things my fat ass will never be able to wear again,” she grunts. I roll my eyes.

  My sister is curvier than I am, but she’s incredibly gorgeous. I wish I had all those curves she’s got going on. Boys and men have always admired her body over my more stick-figure-ish one.

  That’s just one more reason why I threw myself at so many boys after Bates left—validation.

  I wanted to be the one all the boys looked at, not my beautiful sister. I was young, and jealous, and hurt, and so very dumb.

  I shake my head of the past and thank Kent for the bag before I go back into the bedroom and finish getting dressed for the clubhouse.

  I slide on a pair of Kentlee’s skin tight leggings, they keep everything exactly where it needs to be and come up past my belly button. I put on a bralette top and sigh at my stomach.

  Not as flat as it used to be, but good enough for a room of hard-assed bikers.

  On my feet I slide on a pair of wedge booties. I keep my hair long and straight, and my make-up dark. I smirk after I’ve painted my lips red with lipstick.

  Scotty would really hate, I mean truly despise, what I’m wearing. I feel a wave of victory at that thought. I can do and wear what I want now—I love it.

  “Hot mama,” Kentlee says as I walk out of the bedroom.

  I roll my eyes but it doesn’t stop the smile on my lips. I haven’t felt hot in a long time, so I happily accept the compliment.

  A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. Buck announces that it’s Tammy to watch Stella for the night. Kentlee opens the door without hesitation and wraps Tammy in her arms.

  We spend the next few minutes talking as I help Kentlee pack up the kid’s toys and then kiss and hug my sweet Stella goodnight.

  “You’ll be good?” I ask.

  “I aways good, mommy,” she says with a smile. I shake my head and hug her one last time, inhaling her sweet little girl scent, and then I leave.

  I thank Tammy and tell her I’ll be home much later.

  “I got nothin’ else going on, honey. You just do your job; providing for your family is what’s most important.” I smile sadly and nod. I’m not really providing for Stella, yet.

  I hope that one day I will be. I hope to be a woman she can be proud of. But, for now, I’m going to keep going, keep working, and keep us both safe.

  Keeping us both happy and safe is all I really care about right now. Everything else will eventually work itself out.

  Kentlee drives me straight to the clubhouse. I’m lost in my own thoughts and not very talkative. When she pulls up in front, I tell her thank you. Before I can leave, she wraps her hand around my forearm.

  “I’m so proud of you, Brent,” she announces.

  “Not much to be proud of, but thank you,” I say sadly.

  “You’re getting out. You’re taking care of yourself and Stella. I’m so proud,” she whispers.

  “I’m just so thankful and lucky to have you and Fury and the club,” I say.

  “Those other people, our biological family, they can kick rocks, babe. This family, this family is the one that’s going to help you, be there for you, and, in the end, have your back.”

  I nod, noticing a fierceness in her eyes. I don’t know details of my sister’s life these past six years, but there’s something that has happened to her, or something she’s seen. She isn’t the same Kentlee she was all those years ago. There’s something else there.

  “What happened?” I ask, thinking out loud.

  “That, little sister, is a story for alcohol and dessert,” she smiles.

  I leave her in the car to go inside of the club and start my night.

  I have to make this dessert and booze night soon. I need to know exactly what my sister has been through. I need to understand everything. Maybe we aren’t so different, my sister and me.

  Chapter Twelve

  SNIPER

  I watch her from the corner. She didn’t see me slip in and I’m grateful for that. I’m not spying to be a dick, not really, I just like to watch her. She smiles at Grizz, who takes the offered shot glass from her hand and downs the jack.

  I can tell some of the heaviness is beginning to lift from her. Her smile is brighter. I feel like a fucking pussy, but all I have ever wanted was for Brentlee to be happy.

  My phone rings in my pocket and I slip it out. Mary-Anne.

  “Little sister,” I greet as a smile tugs on my lips.

  “I heard you have some news for me,” she says. I can tell she’s smiling on the other end.

  “I do?” I ask, knowing damn well she’s referring to Brent. Odds are, Kentlee called her the minute Brentlee moved in with me. Knowing my sister, she bided her time and now she wants details.

  “Don’t be an asshole,” she murmurs. It makes me laugh.

  “Don’t act like you don’t already know,” I point out, which causes her to chuckle on the line.

  “Okay, how about I just ask this. Are you happy?”

  I pause for a moment. Taking in the question. Truly thinking about it.

  Am I happy? Fuck yes, I am.

  Could I be happier? Always.

  That doesn’t mean that Brent doesn’t make m
e happy, because she sure as fuck does. But having her with my name inked on her body, my ring on her finger, and my baby inside of her—that would make me happier.

  For now, though, yeah.

  I’m fucking happy.

  “Shit’s goin’ good, Mary-Anne,” I admit.

  “Be good to her, Bates. She deserves everything you can give her. But don’t let her hurt you, either, because you deserve the best,” she says.

  “I’m not as good as I used to be, Mary. I don’t deserve her anymore,” I confess. She sighs.

  “You’re too hard on yourself.”

  “How’s Cali?” I ask, changing the subject.

  I don’t want to talk about how undeserving of Brentlee I am. Mary-Anne doesn’t need to know all of the truths that hide inside of my head; all the nightmares, and horror I’ve seen.

  “Awesome. I met someone. We’re going to come out there in a few months. I want you to meet him,” she says excitedly. As much as I want to warn her off of him, mainly because he has a dick, I can’t. She sounds good, happy, and after the hellish childhood she’s endured, she deserves all of the happiness she can get.

  “Can’t wait,” I say before we say our goodbyes and I hang up.

  My eyes go back to Brentlee, who is serving a beer to Torch. He grins at her, but he doesn’t look anywhere but her face. He doesn’t touch her or flirt, he just talks and laughs.

  I don’t mind that.

  I have to let some shit go.

  So she fucked him ten years ago, what kind of asshole am I to hold that over her head? As long as he keeps his dick away from her now, I can’t get too fucking pissed about it.

  Even though I want to beat the shit out of him, nobody can predict the future, and how would he or I have known this is where we’d end up?

  “Hey, baby,” a sweet voice from my left whispers.

  I look down and notice it’s Star. Long dark hair, big fake tits. The girl I’ve fucked so many times I’ve lost count, mainly because she reminded me of Brentlee.

  Though in reality, Star couldn’t hold a candle to Brent in any way, shape, or form. She just resembles her, slightly.

  “Star,” I grunt.

  Star, aptly named because she became a star in the clubhouse within days of her arrival. She sucks good cock, spreads everything, and she’s good at it all. She also rivals anything Kitty, our old clubhouse slut star, ever did. She loves giving us a show with the other sluts, and is always down for whatever. She’s my favorite whore.

  “She’s really pretty,” Star says, wrapping her red painted fingernails around my forearm.

  I can’t help my cock from stirring. Those fucking fingers always feel good on my dick; he totally knows what’s up.

  “She is,” I grunt.

  “You know I’d be willing, Sniper,” she offers. I look down at her, lifting a brow.

  “Yeah, that’s kind of your job,” I say, smirking.

  “You want us both, right here, in front of everybody. I know your kink, baby. Does she?” she asks. My back goes straight.

  My eyes go back to Brentlee, who is busily serving drinks to my brothers, oblivious to this conversation I’m having with Star.

  I turn my head back down to look at her. Innocent looking, but far from it, Star is one of the dirtiest bitches I’ve ever fucked.

  “You won’t be able to have that sweet closed-door-bedroom fucking for very long, Sniper. What happens when you have a nightmare? Is she going to let her use you the way I do?”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I grind out, hating the fact that she’s right.

  I can’t do to Brentlee all the things I want to. She’s been violated and hurt, no way is she going to let me use her body to cope with my own hell. I would never ask her for it, either.

  “You know where to find me when you need me,” she purrs as she slides her hand down my arm and over to my dick, cupping me and squeezing over my jeans. I couldn’t hide the semi I’m sporting even if I wanted to.

  “Yeah, I know exactly where you’ll be,” I grunt.

  Star walks away from me, her ass swaying in her mini skirt. Every now and then, one of her cheeks peeks out the bottom and I can’t stop my groan of appreciation. She’s pretty, not as gorgeous as Brentlee, but there’s no denying Star isn’t a hot piece and a hot fuck.

  “Playin’ with fire, brother,” Dirty Johnny says, walking up to me with a cigarette hanging from his lips, as always.

  “Yeah?” I halfheartedly ask.

  “Star wants to be your Old Lady. She sees Brent livin’ in your pad. She’s gonna try and get between you both and she’s going to try her damndest,” he says, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

  “Don’t matter. I only want Brent,” I say, not believing my own fucking words, and feeling like a prick for it.

  “Yeah, okay,” he says, taking a step away from me. He stops and tips his head to the side, his cold eyes focused on mine. “Brentlee’s eaten shit for a while, brother. Give it to her straight. You want her, that’s cool, make sure she’s getting all of you at the same time.”

  I watch Dirty Johnny as he walks away from me and toward another whore. He grabs her hand without missing a beat, and then they disappear toward the rooms.

  I shift my gaze back to Brentlee, who is now looking at me, a look of confusion plastered all over her features. My breath hitches and I panic at what she could have seen.

  I push off of the wall and make my way toward her.

  Apparently, I have some fucking shit to come clean about. This conversation is better had in my room here, not at home, and not in front of my brothers.

  BRENTLEE

  It’s hard not to feel Bates when he walks through the door. There is a charge in whatever room he enters. It follows him. I know the exact moment he slips inside of the clubhouse, and I can feel his eyes on me, watching me.

  I pretend not to notice him leaning against the wall. It’s hard, but I succeed for the most part. My eyes fail as they keep drifting over to him for a glimpse every so often.

  I watch as he talks on his phone. He’s all smiles, and it makes my belly quiver. How can he be so damn gorgeous?

  Then, my belly falls to the floor when one of the clubwhores walks over to him. Star. I’ve heard her praises sung throughout the clubhouse the past two days. She’s their pride and joy, or at least her mouth, pussy, and ass are.

  I hold my breath as she talks to Bates, her hand on his arm. He’s looking down at her, conversing. He smirks at her and there is a familiarity I hate in their actions.

  They’ve fucked.

  Of course they have.

  She’s a whore and that’s what she’s here for. I grind my teeth together as her hand goes to his dick. Bates makes no move to remove her from his body. I hate it. I am so jealous that I see nothing but red.

  “That don’t mean a fuckin’ thing, darlin’,” Grizz says to me.

  I turn to face him, willing myself to get some fucking control.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.

  “These whores, you’ll learn, they don’t mean shit,” he states. I gape at him.

  “So Fury? Even though he’s married?” I ask in shock.

  “Fury? Fuck, no. Kentlee wouldn’t be down for that. Me? Shit’s happened. My wife has always known the way it is. Kind of like Vegas around these parts. What happens in the clubhouse stays in the clubhouse. Maybe you think that’s wrong? But here, the rules are different. This isn’t like civilian life out there,” he motions at the doors that lead outside to the parking lot.

  “My soon-to-be ex-husband fucked who he wanted, when he wanted,” I admit.

  Speaking that out loud is still hard for me. But there is also something freeing in accepting that he cheated on me. He fucked around, and he fucked me up, and I’m still here to tell the tale.

  I close my eyes for a second and try to gather my thoughts. Can I live to tell the tale if Bates fucks around? He wanted exclusivity, but how long will that last? A week, a month, a year
?

  “Then you know the score right, dalrin’? What happens in here, it doesn’t mean he don’t love you. It doesn’t mean he don’t want only you. It just means he needs to get laid. Can’t fault a man for having a good time,” Grizz shrugs before he taps the bar top and walks away.

  I hate his words.

  Every single one of them.

  I look back at Bates and our eyes lock on each other. I can’t read his expression, but I don’t care. I don’t want to. I’ll never be more than a burden, dependent on him, on any man.

  I’m Bates’ whore at home. Nothing more. He’ll come here when I’m not working and fuck Star, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll have to accept it. Take it. My price for protection against Scotty.

  “C’mon,” Bates murmurs to me, holding out his hand.

  I don’t respond as I place my own hand in his. There’s nothing to say, not really.

  I let him lead me toward the bedrooms without protest. Once we’re inside of his room, I look around. It’s messy and unkempt.

  Clothes strewn about and trashcans overflowing. A complete bachelor’s pad. It even smells, and I wonder when the last time he cleaned was. Gross.

  “We have to talk,” he says, locking the door behind him and wrapping his hands around my bare waist.

  The touch of his warm hands on my sides sends a thrill through me. His touch, anywhere on my body, will always do that to me.

  It doesn’t matter how my brain and my heart feel, my body will always want him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  BRENTLEE

  Talk.

  That word. It never means anything good.

  It never has. And it never will.

  “Is this about Star?” I ask out of pure need. I don’t want him to beat around the bush.

  “What about Star?” he asks, looking down at me. He’s too close, he smells too fucking good. I want to lick and bite and suck.