Magnolia's Fall From Grace

by Zara Teleg

  Magnolia’s Fall From Grace

  Cajun Kings MC - A Stained Souls Prequel

  Zara Teleg

  Free Spirit Indie Publishing

  Copyright ©2021 by Zara Teleg

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the author. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  Magnolia’s Fall From Grace is entirely a work of fiction. All names, characters, organizations, events, and places portrayed in this novel are of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, localities, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First edition

  Editing by Ritchelle Buensuceso

  Cover design by Zara Teleg & Les

  Cover photos by Shutterstock & Deposit Photos

  Created with Vellum

  For Mya, my beautiful, strong daughter, who I can’t imagine my life without. May your life be full of adventure, love, laughter, freedom, and pure happiness. Do not settle for less, you deserve it all. I am so proud of you!

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Please and Thank You

  Author Notes

  Playlist

  Also by Zara Teleg

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Venom drove us through the bayou and down a long, deserted road that had me worried we were going to get stuck and eaten by gators. When he came to a stop, he pointed out the window, but I saw nothing.

  “The path.” He pointed again. He got out and walked around the back of the vehicle, popping open the trunk. My hands felt like they were shaking. I had zero bars on my phone. I jumped when he tapped on my window. He was holding up a pair of rubber boots. I opened the door and took them.

  “Why do I need these?”

  “You want the whole story, I will give it to you. Now let’s go. We got to get out of here before dark.”

  I followed him down the path, which made this feel more like a swampy, terrifying horror movie in the making. Venom was two feet in front of me with a gun on his hip and a large knife in his hand as he cut away any overgrowth that got in our way.

  We finally came to a small cabin. Venom’s face was relaxed, and a smile was beginning to form.

  “This is it, our spot. Maggie and I. Our secret hideaway.”

  He pulled my hand to the area beside the cabin. Just beginning to sprout for spring, a magnolia tree was there.

  “It all started the summer of 1993…”

  Chapter 1

  Venom

  I felt like I was slowly being choked to death in the collared shirt and tie I was forced to wear. My feet were accustomed to motorcycle boots, not these tight, pointy shoes. My brother had a wicked smile as he returned from the restroom just in time for the judge to call us into his chambers. I didn’t even want to know what stupid thing he had done.

  “This way, boys.” The bailiff held open the door to the private room and followed us in. He was a menacing six-foot-four bald man with a permanent scowl as he stood across from Judge Madison with his arms crossed.

  Judge Madison’s eyes rose from the papers in front of him. I nudged my twin’s arm so he’d stand a bit straighter. Thankfully, Viper and I weren’t identical, or I would be in a hell of a lot more trouble.

  “Virgil and Vincent Landry. Again.” He rubbed at his temple. His white combover suited his stuffy appearance.

  “You two aren’t minors anymore. There is only so far the long arm of your daddy can reach.” He pulled his wire-rimmed glasses down his nose, his eyes shifting between us.

  He began to read the statement involving the vandalized police car. My brother stupidly didn’t want to throw away a full bottle of spray paint and got us both caught with the evidence.

  “Boys, you are veerrry fortunate.” His Louisiana accent was thick, and he drew out “very” as he looked at us, pressing his fingers together. “I was able to secure you two a spot on a ‘summer vacation’ that doesn’t include three months in County Jail.”

  Judge Madison lifted a paper from his desk. Volunteers Needed was bold across the top; in smaller writing below: Help rebuild hurricane-devastated St. Martin Marsh. He pointed to “Spend your summer making this community whole again. St. Martin needs you!” and handed the flyer to the now grinning bailiff, who then gave it to me. Viper and I looked at each other and then read down the entire page.

  “Are you kidding me? No way,” Viper spat at the judge, causing the bailiff to take a step toward us.

  “Son, do you have a problem? I could help you solve it with a few months in County Jail if you disrespect this court.”

  “No, Your Honor.” Viper’s response was forced.

  “Well, I would hope not. I understand your ‘club,’” he said with air quotes, “has some issues with the Devil’s Damned group, which has more than a few members in County right now. Since your father and I had a chat about guaranteeing your safety in County, we thought this would be a better alternative. Besides, your granddaddy and I go way back, and I understand he retired close to there, am I right?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” I said while stepping on Viper’s foot before he landed us both in County.

  “We understand, Your Honor, and would be much obliged to take the community service option.”

  “I hoped you would say that. But, boys, this is the last time I can help you like this. Your daddy has run out of favors, and those boys in County, I hear, are just chomping at the bit to find the delinquents that stole that red Camaro and landed it in Copperhead Creek.”

  Viper tried to hold in the smirk, and I stepped on his foot again. “Ow,” he grunted.

  “Do I make myself clear?” The judge’s eyes shifted from me to my brother.

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Now, you have a few days until that bus leaves. You think you two can stay out of trouble until then?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “This is not a prison camp. You will have freedom aside from work. I best not get word of any trouble, or you will be going straight to County for the full length of your sentence.”

  Judge Madison stood and pointed to the door. The bailiff moved toward us and began ushering us out.

  “Be sure to say hi to your granddaddy for me.”

  I could imagine they were betting on how quickly we would land ourselves back here and in County.

  The moment I pushed open the doors, thick Louisiana humidity greeted me and had my shirt nearly soaked in seconds.

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Viper mocked me.

  “Fuck, Viper, you saw what those boys did to Johnny in County.”

  “Yeah, and how did Voodoo respond?” He tossed his jacket and shirt the moment we were in the lot and pulled his Cajun Kings cut from his bag. He tucked a smoke bet
ween his lips, lighting it as he climbed onto his bike.

  A few days later, we met with our father, Voodoo. He and several ranking members of the Cajun Kings called us into the meeting at the end. Six of the baddest men I knew were around that table. Glasses of whiskey sat in front of each as they passed a blunt and took notes. Everyone around these parts thought they were a bully outlaw motorcycle gang, but really, Voodoo was smart. He had been buying up property for years and growing his reach.

  “Venom, Viper, glad you boys could join us.” Big Daddy, the oldest man at the table, passed the cigar-wrapped weed our way. Both of us took hits.

  “We understand you are going to be spending the summer in St. Martin’s Marsh, a stone’s throw from our chapter in St. Genevieve.

  “Yup.” Viper coughed out smoke and passed the dwindling blunt back to Big Daddy.

  “We have some business down there. Some coastal properties took quite a beating when the hurricane winds came through. We intend to acquire some of that property. You two will be helping out in that acquisition. Vicious will be staying at the club, along with Holly, for the summer.” I was shocked to hear my older brother, his wife, and their newborn would be coming along. “We’ll arrange what you’ll be doing around your work schedule.”

  Voodoo was a massive man whose power radiated from his nearly black eyes that matched my brothers’. “I spoke to Judge Madison. You two better not do anything to fuck up and land your asses back here in County. We are counting on you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Viper straightened as he did whenever he had a brief opportunity to gain Voodoo’s attention.

  “Yes, sir,” I followed.

  “Get yourselves packed, and be ready to get on that bus in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir,” we said simultaneously.

  There wasn’t much for us to pack. We didn’t have much anyhow.

  “Viper, you should give that to Vicious. We can’t get caught with weapons at the mission campground.”

  “Fuck, yeah, I guess I will give him this whole bag.”

  I rolled my eyes and continued to pack up.

  “Well, it will be good to see Sissy again.” Viper looked at me.

  “I forgot she’d be there. I wonder how the little runt is doing. It’s been over four years since we saw her.” I chuckled, remembering the punch to the gut the little redhead gave Viper for continuing to call her Pippi Longstocking because of that one time her mama made her wear pigtails.

  “Come on, boys, you don’t want to miss your going-away party.” One of the brothers came to our room, holding a bottle in the air.

  The next morning, we joined the group of other troublemaking “volunteers” who would be spending the summer at the mission. Once we boarded the bus, a guy who looked too proper to be riding with us misfits gave us instructions about how to behave and the ground rules. Rules? Yeah, right.

  Magnolia

  I placed the suitcases on the bench at the foot of my queen-sized bed. It felt like I had just unpacked my bags after returning from St. Bernadette’s Catholic Boarding School for Girls. I looked at the piles of neatly folded clothes spread in specific order covering the entire pink and white duvet. According to the mission’s recommended packing list, I would need various work clothes durable enough to work in but light enough not to pass out in the Louisiana heat.

  I rolled several church-appropriate sundresses together, hoping they wouldn’t get too wrinkled. A smile spread across my face when my eye landed on the steel-toed boots that my big brother, Daniel, left for me. Mama would flip if she saw them. I picked up the heavy boots and placed them in the bottom of the bag, followed by my canvas sneakers, flip-flops, and church sandals.

  “I hope you’re prepared for the blisters that those monstrosities are going to give you.” My shoulders tightened at the tone of my mother’s disapproving voice. Of course, she saw them. I didn’t face her as I continued to pack.

  “Magnolia, look at me when I am speaking to you.” Her heels clicked with each step across the gleaming hardwood floors of my bedroom.

  “One would think spending thousands on Catholic school would have bought you some manners.” Even with her sweet Georgia accent, her words cut me.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I placed the dresses in the larger bag and turned to face my mother. She was the epitome of the perfect, rich Southern belle. Not a single piece of her platinum-blonde hair was out of place. Her makeup was flawless and made her blue eyes sparkle. Even in her mid-forties she had not a line on her face, maybe that was because she only smiled among her high-society friends, or the Botox. Her couture dress skimmed her knees and outlined her perfect figure. Even her stockings matched her porcelain skin.

  Shaking her head, she picked up the lightweight cargo pants and tossed them on the bed before moving to the toiletries and vast assortment of sunscreen, bug spray, and the first-aid kit.

  “Honestly, Magnolia, are you just doing this to anger your father and me? We hoped you would spend your last summer before college at the country club, getting to know some of the other girls and going to events with Spencer. I can’t imagine what the Andersons think of you spending your summer in the slums of Louisiana.”

  I took the poncho from her hand and placed it back in the bag. “Mother, they are not slums. I’m volunteering to help a community devastated by a tornado during a hurricane. The community lost everything.”

  I could feel the stinging in my eyes as I recalled the images of the grief-stricken families sorting through debris and children’s toys in trees. It broke my heart. I closed my eyes—I knew she would disapprove no matter what.

  “Did you need something?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.

  “Well, you don’t have to be so cross.” She tilted her head back, nose in the air. “I wanted to let you know I’m going to the club, and I won’t be back until late. I likely won’t be up when you leave. Frederick offered to drive you tomorrow morning.”

  Of course, she wouldn’t give up her beauty sleep to see her only daughter off. In twenty-four hours, I’d be in Louisiana, and I’d be free. For the first time in eighteen years, no one would be making decisions for me.

  “Is Daddy going to be home before I go?”

  Her lips formed a line, and her tone was full of annoyance. “Of course. He has to see you off tonight before meeting me at the club. We were due to go together.” She let out a long breath. “Anyway, have a safe trip, dear. I really wish I could understand why you’re going.” Her eyes fluttered as she leaned in and kissed my cheek like I was one of her friends.

  “I wish you could too.” I closed my eyes and uttered under my breath as I watched her perfect hourglass figure walk out the door in four-hundred-dollar pumps.

  An hour later, I was packed and getting ready to shower and turn in for the night; I had to be up and out by 5:30 a.m. My father’s signature knock sounded on my bedroom door before he began to open it.

  “Sweet pea.” He entered the room with a wrapped box in his hand. He only used that nickname when he felt guilty about something. It was his way of pretending he was a caring father.

  “Come in, Daddy.” I smiled. My father was a handsome man and looked dazzling in his summer suit. His eyes scanned the packed bags, then his eyes met mine.

  “I can’t believe you are really going. I thought this was the summer that we would finally spend some time together, and now you are grown up and trying to save the world.” Even in summers when my parents were home, I might not have been alone, but I sure was lonely. I tried to remember he meant well.

  “Daddy, I have to do this. In a few years, when I’m a doctor, I will have this great experience that I may never get again.”

  “You know, I’m just getting used to the idea of you going to medical school. Your mother’s not happy and hopes you change your mind. But, if I know one thing about you, it’s that you are pigheaded like your daddy. Here, I got you a little graduation present.”

  I looked at the small box perfectly wrapped in pin
k paper with curled ribbons and wondered whether he or his secretary got it. “You didn’t have to—”

  “Just open it.”

  I pulled on the dark-pink ribbon and opened the lid. Inside was a gold Our Lady of Lourdes necklace.

  I pulled the slender gold chain from the box and held it in the air. The setting sun streamed an orange glow into the room, illuminating the beautiful medal. On the other side, it had a magnolia flower engraved and the words “Sweet Pea” below it.

  My eyes filled with tears as I stood and hugged my father. He was not an affectionate man, but he certainly cared much more than my mother ever did. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “Are you sure you won’t change your mind? The club has some fantastic events happening this summer, and I am sure Spencer would love to have you on his arm.” His eyebrows raised in hope.

  “Sorry, Daddy, but you know I can’t.” Both my parents always had an agenda, but he at least tried to make it less obvious.

  “Well, I hope this medal would remind you of all you learned at school and keep you on the right path. I just hate the idea of you spending your summer where I’d like to forget I grew up.” He did not hide his disappointment.

  “I have to get going, but if you go downstairs, there is someone else who would like to say goodbye.”

  My eyebrows knitted together as I wondered who it could be. “Give me a minute and I’ll be right there.”