Notorious Devils MC Complete Collection: BoxSet

by Hayley Faiman

  “Remember what we said. Free training session for your girls,” Chad announces.

  I watch them walk out of the clubhouse and it dawns on me that I didn’t thank them for watching after my woman the way they did. I make a mental note to pay them a visit once this shit settles down a bit, and properly thank them.

  We wait for the doctor to appear for what seems like an hour. Ivy chats to a few of the other women, staying close to Mary-Anne and her posse. I don’t blame her, they’re probably both going through the same types of emotions.

  MadDog is bellied up to the bar with his son, Fury, and his brother-in-law, Sniper. I decide to observe. Not feeling much like conversing with much of anyone right now.

  My mind keeps drifting back to those little pricks hanging in that metal building. I can’t wait to make them fucking suffer. First, we need to find out what exactly they thought they would gain by taking our girls.

  The doctor appears and makes a beeline for MadDog. I jump to my feet and am at his side as soon as the doctor arrives. “I’d like to talk to you privately, Mr. Duhart,” the doctor murmurs.

  “I’m joining, my daughter was there too,” I announce.

  MadDog stands and the doctor opens his mouth, he raises his hand and the doctor snaps his lips closed. “Fury and Camo are joining me,” MadDog announces. He stands and walks away toward his office. We all follow behind him, and the doctor brings up the rear.

  MadDog walks behind his desk and I walk in as he sinks down into his chair. He looks fucking wiped and that doesn’t surprise me, but he looks like he’s also aged about ten years. I wonder offhandedly if I look the same—God knows I feel it.

  “The girls, they were dehydrated and hungry,” the doctor begins.

  “Just fuckin’ spit it the fuck out,” MadDog demands on a growl.

  The doctor nods. “Riley and Rosalie weren’t harmed much more than being slapped around a little, and of course the rope burns on their wrists. You’ll need to keep those clean. Unfortunately—”

  MadDog interrupts. “Finley was sexually assaulted?” he guesses and I watch in horror as the doctor nods.

  “Yes, Finley was indeed sexually assaulted. Her body will heal, in time,” he murmurs. “There was a little tearing, and a small amount of loss of blood as she was a virgin,” he explains, and my stomach roils.

  MadDog nods but doesn’t speak, his eyes close and he turns his head away. Fury steps up to the doctor. “Is there anything she needs?” he asks.

  “I administered the morning after pill for her, and have taken samples to test her for any STI’s,” he mutters softly. “She said they used condoms, but I prefer to be overly cautious,” he explains.

  “Thanks, doc,” Fury murmurs.

  “I gave her some pain meds to ease her discomfort. If you need anything else, please feel free to call. My only other advice would be to get her someone to talk to about her experience,” he states before he walks out of the office, leaving the three of us alone.

  We all stay silent for at least a minute. MadDog rises and the anger and pain swirling in his eyes is too much to fucking bear. He leans forward and places his balled up fists on his desk before he speaks.

  “I get the one who hurt my baby. I’m going to fucking cut his little dick off and make him eat it,” he growls.

  Fury lifts his chin. “Fuck yeah, let’s go torture some little boys who thought they could fuck with the Devils and live to see another day.”

  We file out of the office and MadDog calls for Sniper and Grease to join us. Once we’re outside, I see Dirty Johnny standing against the building smoking a cigarette. “You guys need any help?” he asks, arching his brow.

  “Fuck yeah, we do,” Fury growls.

  Dirty Johnny pushes off of the wall and throws his smoke to the ground before he steps on it with a twist of his heel. He follows us and I hear Fury telling him exactly what the doctor said. Johnny growls and it sounds purely animalistic.

  The warehouse is dark when we walk inside. I laugh to myself, those little fuckers are probably terrified being strung up in this dark as fuck building. MadDog flips the overhead lights on and sure enough, all five of the fucks have pissed their pants and are crying.

  “Lookie what we have here, boys,” MadDog barks. “Some little piss-ants that thought they would play at being men. Bit them in the ass, now didn’t it?”

  “We won’t say shit,” the obvious leader of the group, Benny, announces.

  We all let out low chuckles at his brave words. Oh, they’ll be talking, or screaming rather. I decide to make my first move, and it’s on the little boy who was apparently supposed to be for my daughter.

  Taking my favorite knife out of its holster, I walk directly up to him. He’s hanging by his wrists, his feet dangling in the air and his arms probably numb by now.

  “One of you needs to tell us what you thought you were going to accomplish by kidnapping our girls,” I shout out, but my eyes stay connected to this kid.

  His bottom lips wobbles but he shakes his head.

  “If any of you talk, you’re dead,” Benny announces.

  MadDog lets out a loud bark of laughter. “Boys, you’re already all dead. At this point, what information you come forward with will determine the amount you suffer before you die.”

  “How old are you?” I ask the kid.

  He lowers his eyes to look at the ground. “Eighteen,” he whispers.

  He doesn’t look eighteen, but fuck, maybe he is. “Pretty fucked up you let your brother get you killed. Mind telling me what was goin’ through your head?” I murmur.

  His eyes ignite and I swear to fuck they look like they could shoot fire at me. “You’re old, worn out, and a bunch of pussies. It’s time for new blood to come in and take control,” he spits.

  Fury wraps his hand around his stomach letting out a full-on belly laugh. I watch as he wipes fake tears away from his eyes. “You hear that, Pops? We’re old, and worn out, and pussies.”

  “Guess these little fucks sure showed us,” MadDog grumbles. “Though, I don’t feel like much of a pussy right about now,” he shrugs.

  “Funny you mention it, me either,” Fury murmurs.

  MadDog steps up a little closer to the prisoners before he asks which one violated his daughter. Stupidly enough one of them actually fesses up. “It was me. Never had a tighter snatch in my life,” he boasts.

  I think MadDog is going to kill him quickly when he grabs a knife from the side table that is loaded with weapons. He doesn’t. He cuts the kids clothes off, his shirt first, then his pants and boxers.

  The other boys gasp when MadDog grabs ahold of his minuscule cock. All of this he does completely silently. Then, he slowly saws off the guy’s dick.

  The boys all around their friend start to gag and then vomit as his blood-curdling screams meet our ears, and his dick is removed from his body.

  “He passed out,” MadDog murmurs. “Guess we’ll wait for the rest of it, then. I really don’t want him to miss anything.”

  “What’re you gonna do to him?” the kid in front of me asks.

  I turn my head to him and grin. “He’s gonna make him eat his own cock, kid.” He gags and turns his head to puke again. “You know, I thought it would be kind of hard torturing kids young enough to be my own,” I announce to the room.

  “Me too,” Fury states. “But it’s really not,” he shrugs.

  “Not in the slightest,” I grin. I press my knife against the boy’s stomach. “Anything else you need to tell me?” I ask him.

  His eyes water and he sucks in a breath. “They thought you’d make a bargain with them. They were going to contact you by tonight,” he whispers. “They just wanted you to leave us the club, let us take over,” he confesses.

  I shake my head. “Boy, that ain’t how it works.” He nods and for whatever reason, I feel the need to end his life quickly.

  I shove the knife into his gut once. He makes a gasping noise before I wrap my fingers in the back of his hair an
d tug his neck back, slitting his throat. His blood squirts everywhere, but his death is swift and virtually painless.

  “You did that quick,” Sniper mutters from behind me.

  Turning around I give him a shrug. “He gave me more information than the rest of the pricks.”

  “You forgot a couple important details,” he says, and I look at him in question, waiting for him to continue. “How many more are there? And who is, they?”

  I blink at his words. He’s fucking right.

  “You’ll never know,” one of the other boys says with an evil grin.

  “Maybe not, but we’ll make sure to leave your little friends a reminder of what happens when you fuck with our old asses,” MadDog says.

  We spend the next two hours torturing the assholes. The kid who hurt Finley wakes up in the middle of it and I watch as MadDog actually makes him eat his own cock. It’s fucking disgusting but deserved. When all of the boys are dead and hanging lifelessly from hooks, Fury turns to me.

  “Now we show any of their little friends exactly what happens when you fuck with us,” he states.

  I lift my chin and help him take the guys down from the hooks. We toss them into the van. MadDog had one of the prospects line it with plastic before we got started. We load into the van ourselves as we can’t bring out bikes, we’re trying to be inconspicuous.

  Dirty Johnny has the least amount of blood on him so he’s our driver. It doesn’t take long to get to our destination, the rental house we picked these fucks up from. We quickly unload their bodies from the van and dump them on the front lawn. Then we climb back inside of the van and Johnny takes off.

  “You got your cops on payroll?” Johnny asks as he drives down the street.

  MadDog grunts. “Boy, been in this town for a long ass time, everybody’s on my fuckin’ payroll.”

  “Christ, MadDog just making sure,” he murmurs.

  The rest of the drive to the clubhouse is in silence. We’re all lost inside of our own heads, something that happens when you end the lives of five men who are really just boys. I didn’t know all of their names, and I don’t care.

  All I know is that they tried to play a game, a game that they thought they could win. It was a game they fucking lost, but in the end our girls, are the ones who suffered. All because we are members of this club, brothers in this group.

  Chapter Eighteen

  IVY

  I was thankful when MadDog sent a message to the entirety of the club canceling lockdown. Tinker brought us home. I hadn’t showered in a couple of days, and neither had Rosalie. I set her up with a bath and then took a long, hot shower myself.

  Once I was clean, I decided to make a good, traditional home-cooked meal. The kids almost wept, it’s been months since I’ve cooked something akin to comfort food.

  Tonight, Rosalie’s favorite meal of chicken, rice, broccoli and cheese casserole. I haven’t heard from West, but I don’t expect to either.

  I can only assume that he and the other guys are taking care of the men who took our girls. I know one thing is certain when it comes to West. He’ll do whatever it takes to protect our family from outside danger.

  “I’m tired,” Rosalie admits when dinner has been consumed and the boys have run off to play PlayStation.

  I look at my girl, who now, has a shadow in her eyes that makes her appear at least five years older than she really is. “Bailey was sure glad to see you,” I murmur with a grin.

  Rosalie’s face pinks and she looks down at her lap. “He said he was really worried about me. He asked me to call him tonight so that we can talk a bit,” she admits.

  “You know, your father probably wouldn’t like that,” I say. She nods, and I stand up as I walk over to the vacant chair next to hers. Slipping my arm around her shoulder, I exhale before I speak again. “But, I think tonight, it would be okay.”

  “Really?” she breathes.

  I nod, giving her a small smile. “Just tonight, Rosalie. He was very concerned and he just wants to make sure you’re okay. Plus, it’s only over the phone,” I shrug.

  “Thanks, Mom,” she beams, throwing her arms around me. Then she stands and rushes upstairs.

  I watch her as she disappears into her room and let out a sigh of relief. All of my babies are in one home, and they’re safe.

  As many times as we’ve had to be on lockdown throughout the years, I’ve never had anything happen to me, or my children, personally. I can completely understand the dangers of this life, of our lifestyle. I never imagined that something this bad could ever happen to us, but it did.

  As much as I would like to tell West to leave the club, I know that he won’t. Bad things happen to people all of the time, with or without being involved in a club like we are.

  When we were young, I wanted nothing to do with a member of the club, but it had nothing to do with safety, and more to do with the way some of the men treat their women.

  Isn’t it a fucking hoot that I ended up being the one to cheat?

  The front door opens and I jump when I see West enter. He’s wearing his cut, but the rest of his clothes are different. I don’t ask him why, I already know he had to wash the blood away I’m sure.

  “There’s some leftover chicken and rice casserole if you want it,” I murmur pointing to the dish that’s still in the middle of the table.

  “Where are the kids?” he asks.

  I explain that Rosalie is tired and wanted to sleep and that the boys are playing video games. He sits down in Rosalie’s now empty seat next to me and throws his arm around my shoulders. “We got them handled, we can all rest easy tonight,” he murmurs.

  His hand wraps around the back of my neck and his thumb starts to massage me. We sit in silence for what seems like a lifetime, then he finally speaks. “We’ve been through hell the past couple of months,” he says quietly.

  I nod, unsure of where this conversation is leading. “I love you, Ivy.” I wait for him to add a, but, and when he does my entire body deflates. “But we can’t go on like this. Neither of us is happy.”

  Lifting my gaze to meet his I turn my head. “So, this is it? This is the end of us?” I ask, trying to fight back the tears.

  “Never, baby,” he murmurs. “This is only the beginning.”

  “West,” I whisper.

  He grins and leans forward, his head pressing against mine. “We aren’t perfect, neither of us are. We’ve both fucked up, but baby, there’s too much here to just walk away.”

  “Too much of what?” I breathe.

  He leans back and lets his hand fall away from my neck, his eyes focused on me and nothing else. “Too much of everything. Too much history, too much love, just too fucking much.”

  “And what I did?”

  He shakes his head. “What you did, it’s nothing more than what I wanted you to do, except I wasn’t there to watch,” he shrugs. “Next time, I’m there.”

  My eyes widen and my mouth falls open slightly in shock. With shaky fingers, I reach up and grasp his forearm, squeezing him, trying to imagine both him and Derek, and me—together.

  I can’t pretend that the thought doesn’t intrigue me, it does, very much so. I just don’t want it to come crashing down around me.

  Moving my hand up his forearm to his bicep, I keep my eyes on his and I let out a trembling whisper, “Okay.”

  “Tonight, we put our boys to bed. We put our girl to bed, and we just breathe and sleep. Fuck, I feel like I haven’t slept in a fuckin’ year,” he grunts. “And I need to eat.”

  West turns to the table, grabbing the entire casserole dish and I watch as he starts to shovel food into his mouth.

  Deciding it’s creepy to sit and watch him eat, I start to clean up the dinner dishes. West hasn’t eaten at home in probably months and if I could get away with just watching him at our dining room table, I would.

  CAMO

  I watch her move around our home, clearing the table and picking up the house. I can’t believe I almost walked
away from her, that I actually pushed her away.

  She’s my Old Lady, my woman, and I was willing to keep her up on some pedestal, afraid to dirty her up, all the while willing to lose her because of it.

  Fuck that.

  She’s made herself dirty, and I should fucking be pissed, but I’m not, in fact, I’m the exact opposite.

  Once I’m finished eating, I drop the dirty dish and fork in the sink before making my way over to my boys. They don’t even realize I’m home, they’re so focused on their game. I leave them to it and walk upstairs to see my Rosalie.

  When I reach her bedroom door, I wrap my hand around the knob and close my eyes. She could have been lost to me forever, or she could have been hurt the way Finley was and forever damaged.

  There are so many variables of what could have happened to her, and all because some punk ass kids wanted to prove they were men. They wanted to make some kind of statement that we are old, washed-up, has-beens.

  They didn’t succeed in that, but they did take our daughters, and they damaged them, forever ruining an innocence that they can never get back.

  I knock once before turning the handle and walking inside of her room. She’s lying in bed on her side and her eyes are closed. I can tell she’s not asleep though. Making my way over to her bed, I sit down and rest my hand on her thigh from the top of the covers.

  “Daddy,” she whispers.

  Clearing my throat, I squeeze her leg gently. “You doing okay?”

  She shifts beneath her covers to sit up and my hand falls from her as I watch her. She gives me a sad nod and then tips her head back to look at the ceiling of her bedroom. “I feel guilty,” she admits.

  “Why?”

  Rosalie shakes her head and then drops it to look into her lap. “Finley, she was hurt, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I tried to break out of the restraints they had my arms and legs in but I couldn’t.”

  Anger fills me at the mention of her being restrained, but I tamp it down as best as I can. “Don’t feel guilty for a fucking thing. Those pricks are to blame for everything. Not you, not Riley, and not Finley.”