STEEL TEMPTATION (A Back Down Devil MC Romance Novel)

  Welcome to world of BACK DOWN DEVIL MOTORCYCLE CLUB

  ~

  A romance novel by London Casey

  London Casey is the pen name for bestselling romance author Karolyn James

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  STEEL TEMPTATION

  A Back Down Devil MC Novel

  She was told to get close to them. But now she’s in way over her head.

  Broke and desperate, Mia has no choice but to spy on the MC for her uncle. But when the MC realizes they’ve got their now most hated enemy’s niece in their hands, nothing can save her….

  Except one man.

  Nate has sworn off women altogether…and this girl’s the niece of the man who’d set him up and left him for dead. He should hate her. He should want to take revenge on her, just like the rest of the MC…but he finds himself drawn to protect her by an attraction he can’t control.

  The only time Mia feels safe is in Nate’s hands…but can she really love the man she’s been positioned to hate? Nate knows he needs to be with her…but how can he do that while protecting her innocence from the dark world he inhabits? As both sides prepare for war, the couple are about to find their loyalties tested to the limit…

  one.

  Night had finally settled upon the town of Frelen, but there had been darkness inside Nate for much longer than a night could provide. Standing in the lot to the Back Down Devil MC clubhouse, he looked out to the only town he knew as home. From the depths of hell to the most beautiful days at the beach, he’d seen everything the town had to offer. Hell, even recently with the MC needing to take out a business man and deal with some backdoor dirty deals, this was worse than anything Nate knew of.

  A rival club was smuggling drugs in and around Frelen. That was honestly just normalcy for the club, always someone wanting in to fuck things up. Then Back Down Devil would find out who and have to dig some holes for fresh bodies. This time it was Coast Road MC, a club that belonged on the beach in their cut off shirts, ‘roided up muscles, and pathetic images.

  They were suddenly smarter, able to move product.

  But they weren’t alone.

  Nate had seen it.

  The judge that tried to put Jace away for a long time had his hands in it. But even he wasn’t alone. The guy who was supposed to be the contact for Back Down Devil - Chief Jerry - had his hands in the mess. The betrayal was hard to comprehend.

  Not to mention, the second Nate saw what was happening he had been attacked. Something metal slammed to his head, knocking him out cold right on the beach.

  When Nate came to, it took him a few minutes to stand up. People had gathered around to help him. Most people were afraid of the guys in the MC. Rightfully so. After all, they were all a bunch of wild, murdering bikers. But without Back Down Devil doing what they did, Frelen would have been a shit hole of a town. Overrun by dealers, pimps, and whores, bodies showing up everywhere. The police department completely corrupt. Everyone in town with their lives on the damn line.

  People didn’t understand it. And that was fine.

  Nate touched his head and it fucking hurt. When he blinked, he still saw a little white spot at the right side of his eye. Gaige and Blaine forced him to the hospital where they told him he was lucky. His skull was unusually thick, meaning nothing broke. If whoever hit him had been an inch lower, Nate would have been dead.

  That’s how far away death was for Nate and the guys in Back Down Devil MC.

  Literally a fucking inch.

  With his hands balled into fists, Nate tried to figure out how to do this. How to make things right. He had watched Jace try to tell the Back Down Devil MC President, Miller, and the guys about Coast Road MC, but they were preoccupied. Now he was supposed to tell Miller that Chief Jerry was working against the MC? After all they had gone through with that businessman, Strokner.

  “Nice night out here, brother.”

  Nate didn’t realize Griffin had snuck up on him. He was holding two beers, both full.

  “What are you doing out here?” Griffin asked. He offered a beer to Nate.

  Nate pushed it away. “No need for that bullshit in there.”

  “What? You don’t want to see Blaine play pool with his dick?”

  Nate raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “You heard me. He’s having the relievers keep him hard. So he gets behind the cue ball and thrusts forward…”

  “Jesus Christ,” Nate said. “I’m never playing pool again.”

  Griffin laughed a rough laugh. “Brother, you know how much stuff that guy’s dick has touched in there? We’re better off burning it down than cleaning it.”

  Nate grinned. “Good to know.”

  “You gotta shake this one off,” Griffin said. “We’re just getting done with this Strokner shit. We have to make sure there’s no fall out from it, okay?”

  “You make it sound so easy,” Nate said. “You’re not the one who was attacked.”

  “Hey, we’ve all been attacked, okay?”

  “Not like this, man. There’s…”

  Griffin touched Nate’s arm. “What? You remember something?”

  Nate gritted his teeth. When the guys were hounding him about what had happened he made a comment that he didn’t remember much. That he saw the white seafood van and then someone attacked him. They said, “You’re fucking dead… and so is your entire club…” and then it was all darkness.

  If there was one thing Nate knew about life - in and out of the MC - was that sometimes dumping too much information at once could cause major problems. Griffin was right, the club was trying to get over the Strokner stuff.

  But this was worse.

  This was betrayal right in town. This could end the club.

  Nate shook away Griffin and went for his motorcycle. Some people had church, Nate had his ride and the open road. But tonight wasn’t about going out to find a religious experience or anything like that.

  “Where you going?” Griffin asked.

  “To the beach.”

  “Bro, do you remember anything?”

  “I want to see.”

  Nate started his motorcycle and gave Griffin a few seconds to decide what he wanted to do.

  Griffin dropped the beer bottles, letting them fall over, foaming out of their skinny necks. He hurried to his motorcycle, put on his helmet, and fired it up. He gave the thumbs up and Nate started to move.

  They left the compound and went right to the beach. Right to where Nate had parked his motorcycle that day, when he broke away from the guys. It was always risky and dumb to travel alone. Nate paid the price for that. Hell, going out tonight like this, there should have been more than just the two of them.

  But whatever.

  Nate turned off his motorcycle and just sat there. The moon bounced off the ocean with the waves.

  “Come on, brother,” Griffin said. “What is this? There’s naked women at the clubhouse. Waiting for us.”

  Nate climbed off the motorcycle and walked to the sand. He crept forward and stopped right where it happened. Of course he knew where it happened because he remembered every goddamn detail of it. He remembered the cocky grin on Chief Jerry’s face when he got out of his vehicle. They were all working together, behind the backs of Back Down Devil MC. Moving drugs around Frelen.


  “This is where it happened,” Nate said. “Fucking jacked in the head, man.”

  Griffin patted Nate on the back. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “It’s not that. Sometimes the truth…”

  “If you’re holding back, it’s going to piss everyone off. Miller will take your cut, Nate. You know that, right?”

  Nate looked at Griffin. “You know where I came from, right? Never needed a cut before to survive.”

  “Christ, man, I don’t know what…”

  Nate saw something move. Something in shadows, near the water. Damn near under the pier. Before he could process what it could possibly be, he was on the run. Charging through the sand, Griffin trying to stay with him. Face it, Griffin was a little portly and had a limp thanks to a motorcycle accident ten years ago. In other words, Nate could run in the sand and Griffin could be on flat pavement and he still wouldn’t have caught up to Nate.

  When Nate saw movement again, he took out his gun. His brain screamed at him, warning him not to do anything stupid. Christ, if it was the judge or the chief working a deal and Nate shot them, this would be a disaster for the MC.

  Nate held the gun tight but kept his finger off the trigger.

  “Oh, fuck!” a voice yelled as Nate got closer.

  He saw two figures start to run and growled, demanding his body to keep up with them.

  Under the pier through wet sand, the ocean trying to lick at his heavy boots, Nate kept running. He made out the figures and closed in even more. One was faster than the other. Just like a lion claiming its prey, survival of the fucking fittest for sure.

  Nate lunged forward off his feet, and brought the gun down to the neck of the closest person. The guy hit the sand, rolled, and Nate was on top of him. He came down with a right fist, smashing into the guy’s face.

  “What the fuck!”

  Nate looked up and pointed his gun, stopping the other guy in his tracks. He then punched once, twice, three more times to the guy on the sand.

  “Who are you?” the second guy asked.

  Nate gritted his teeth.

  The second guy then made a daring move and kicked sand at Nate.

  Well fucking played.

  The sand covered Nate’s face and eyes just enough for the second guy to make a move at him. Next thing Nate knew, he was the one on his back, in the sand, getting pummeled by two guys now. They were skinny little punks and Nate’s tree trunk like arms were able to wrap around them like two hungry boa constrictors. He absorbed their punches as his eyes burned and watered from the sand.

  “Motherfucker,” one of them said. “You gonna die now.”

  That’s when a gun went off.

  It stopped the entire scene.

  The two guys jumped off Nate and stood up, putting their hands up.

  “What the fuck is happening?” Griffin yelled, out of breath.

  Nate hurried to his feet. He shook his head and blinked away sand filled tears.

  “Who are you?” one of the guy’s asked.

  “Fuck,” Nate said. “You’re not them.”

  “Not who?” the other guy asked.

  “What were you doing down here?” Griffin asked the guys.

  “Who the hell are you? The police?” the first guy asked.

  “Maybe,” Nate said. “Answer the question.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” the second guy said.

  Nate came forward, without hesitation, and socked the smart mouth right to the jaw. The guy turned and dropped right into his friend’s arms.

  “Goddamn!” the guy yelled. “You knocked him out!”

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Nate said.

  “Or I’ll shoot you,” Griffin warned. “Got that?”

  The guy dragged his friend away, mumbling something the entire time.

  Nate found his gun in the sand and tucked it away. He turned and watched as Griffin came across with his own gun, hitting Nate in the face. Nate stumbled back and Griffin stayed with him. He put the gun to Nate’s head.

  “You stupid fuck,” Griffin growled. “Tell me what you goddamn remember. Or I’ll blow your brains out right now.”

  two.

  “Holy shit,” Griffin said and lowered the gun.

  Nate stood with his hands at his sides. There was a second he believed that Griffin would actually shoot him, but he figured if Griffin wanted the damn truth so badly, then he’d give it to him.

  Slowly, Griffin tucked his gun away and then stroked his chin. He looked around the empty beach. “You know, people should be down here. Not those punks we chased away.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Seriously, Nate. There used to be people. Hell, I came down to this beach one night, right under a pier, and fingered my first girl. The sounds of the waves crashing, salt water mist all around. And I dug into her.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “She screamed,” Griffin said. “Then slapped me. She didn’t like the way it felt.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Got a handjob from her though as a thanks for touching her.”

  Nate shook his head. “Memories.”

  “My point is, Nate, there should be people here. And there’s not. Do you know why?”

  Nate looked around too. He thought about it.

  Why the hell wouldn’t people be down here? It’s a beautiful night. Cool and comfortable. A soft breeze. Perfect for a romantic walk. Holding hands. Hell, maybe getting a little frisky and finding a secluded spot in the sand…

  Griffin clicked his mouth a few times and threw his thumb back. When Nate turned, he got his answer.

  There were signs posted along the edge of the beach.

  Simply put - no access to the beach after dark. Signed by the great folks at the Frelen Police Department.

  “Motherfucker,” Nate whispered. “He closed the beach.”

  “Do you realize what you’re trying to tell me?” Griffin asked.

  “I’m not trying to tell you a damn thing, Griffin. I told you. There’s no more telling. It was the judge, Chief Jerry, and Coast Road MC. All in a white van. Remember when Jace put his ass on the line and begged Miller to check out the seafood van?”

  Griffin nodded. His eyes looked as though they knew the rest of this story.

  “Who checked the van out?”

  “Chief,” Griffin said.

  “Yeah. The Chief. And he said there was nothing in it. That he looked stupid.”

  “So you think he made it up?”

  “He probably pulled the van over,” Nate said. “Searched it for good measure, appearances. Just in case we were watching. But he chose to find nothing.”

  “Fucking hell.”

  “He’s been on the inside of us for years, Griffin. He knows things. He knows how we operate. So much dirt…”

  Griffin pointed a finger. “That goes both ways. We know things about him that could put him away.”

  Nate laughed. “You fool. He’s got the badge. We have a patch. He protects from crime. We commit the crimes. It’d be nothing but a goddamn setup.”

  Griffin turned and faced the water. The breeze grabbed some of his loose hair and made it dance behind him.

  Nate stood tall and like a statue. He’d dealt with this shit before. Nobody could be trusted. Family, friends, blood, patch, badge, honor, or words. The world was a playground for betrayal. That’s just how it went.

  “We can’t say anything,” Griffin said. “Not tonight. Not with so much lingering from what happened.”

  “I know,” Nate said. “That’s why I’ve been quiet. On the outside. Trying to piece it together. All I know is that Chief Jerry wants out. This is his ticket. Cash in and then slip away. Probably move to an administrative role or just retire.”

  “New blood in the PD is bad for us,” Griffin said.

  “Bad blood in the PD is bad for us,” Nate said.

  Both men looked at each other. They both nodded. A silent agreement to one thing for sure - someone was going to have to take out the chief of p
olice for Frelen.

  Jesus. Christ.

  Nate put a fist out for Griffin to hit. When Griffin did, Nate grabbed his fist and held tight. “I came down here to relive it, okay? To see if there was possibly anything I had missed. You know? Like it couldn’t be true that our greatest ally was fucking turning on us.”

  “That’s why you attacked that guy?” Griffin asked with a grin.

  “I thought I could catch them. Right in the fucking act.”

  “Then what? I mean, if you did? You realize how fucked up this is?”

  Nate nodded. “I’ve been living in this nightmare all alone since the attack happened.”

  “Christ, Nate. Miller is on the hunt for some more Eight Under blood. Thinking they attacked you. You could have admitted to him it was Coast Road.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Nate said. “But I just… fuck. This is bad. How do we tell Miller?”

  “We?” Griffin asked with an eyebrow raised.

  “Yeah, we. Sorry, bro, but trying to remember wasn’t the only reason I came out here tonight.”

  “No?”

  “No. I was hoping you’d come with me. So I could drag you into this fucking mess. Now you know the truth. And you believe it. So we need to convince Miller it’s true.”

  “The club can’t take this right now.”

  “If we don’t, then what? Christ, Griffin, what if Chief Jerry has been waiting for this opportunity for a long time? I’m talking… fucking years… think about it.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  Griffin turned and started to walk. He threw his hands up, and the only thing Nate could do was nod. He knew the feeling. That hopeless dead feeling inside. From the second he came down to the beach and saw what he saw, that feeling had been going through him. Hell, it was a relief almost to tell someone. Better yet, to have someone believe him.

  When Nate started to move again, he scanned the beach. He looked at one of posted signs about the beach being closed. Gritting his teeth, he took out his gun and shot the sign. The gunshot might attract attention, but fuck it. Let the PD come down to the beach. Where the hell were the citizens of Frelen? Why didn’t they stand up and fight back against this? What about the business owners? Not that Frelen had been exactly safe lately…

  “What a mess,” Nate whispered.

  He found Griffin sitting on his motorcycle, ready to ride.