BROKEN ROAD (A Back Down Devil MC Romance Novella) Read online

  “Right,” Jake said.

  A minute later, a black car appeared in the distance. Then came the rumble of more motorcycles. Jake thought it was too ballsy to go right into the middle of the meet like this, but Apollo insisted. He didn’t want to see any more proof. Apollo had made his decision.

  Jake could only respect it.

  The car came down a little more and then stopped.

  “They see us,” Apollo said.

  To their left, the two motorcycles - Petey and Pitt - came into view. They didn’t stop. They kept coming. Right up to the rest of the motorcycles.

  They had the nerve to stop and Petey even took his helmet off.

  “What’s up?” Petey asked.

  Before Apollo could say a word, Kami dove forward and punched Petey right in the mouth. That dropped Petey and his ride.

  Pitt quickly took out a gun.

  Hell had officially broken loose.

  *

  Jake dove forward and tackled Pitt to the ground. They tangled up and started to roll on the ground. Jake grabbed Pitt’s wrist and held it tight, trying to keep the weapon under control. He slammed Pitt’s hand on the ground, sending the gun sliding on the ground. Pitt then threw his head forward into Jake’s shoulder. Jake fell back, screaming in pain.

  Pitt got on his hands and knees and went for the gun. As he reached for it, his head exploded into pieces.

  “Fuck!” Jake yelled.

  He looked up and saw Kami. There was so much rage in the VP’s eyes.

  “Get Petey up!” Apollo ordered. “Prepare for this…”

  Slaughter and Ax grabbed Petey.

  “You’re fucked,” Ax said. “You rat piece of shit.”

  “They’ll fucking take us all out,” Petey said.

  The car up ahead started to move. It started to turn, getting sideways, looking to make a run for it. Right on time, a split second before it all could have gone bad, there was a sight that made Jake smile ear to ear.

  Back Down Devil MC rolled up out of the horizon like outlaw demons looking for a fresh meal. It was Landon, Erik, Jace, Blaine, and half a dozen prospects.

  The car turned left and started to fly toward the Rusted Devil MC crew.

  “Take them out!” Apollo ordered.

  Kami, Slaughter, Ax, and Apollo all lifted their weapons and shot. The windshield of the car stood no chance. The bullets ate through the glass and ate the driver and his passenger. The car swerved left, right, and then went off the road, the opposite side. The car hit a couple rocks, bounced, and started to roll. It kicked up a mess of dirt and dust, settling only to then catch on fire.

  “Fuckers,” Apollo said.

  Ahead, the guys in Back Down Devil MC started to ride toward the Rusted Devil MC crew. A car followed the MC; Jake knew it was a prospect who would take another prospect back to the clubhouse so Jake could properly ride back.

  When the guys stopped, Blaine jumped off his motorcycle. He ran to Jake. “What the fuck?”

  “I’m good,” Jake said. “Help me up.”

  Blaine pulled Jake up and hugged him. “You made it.”

  “You fucking made it,” Jake said.

  “Always, bro.”

  “So what’s the game here?” Kami asked. “Why the fuck do this?”

  Jace took his helmet off. “The cartel is your fucking problem up here. We don’t need that shit down in Frelen. Be smart and keep them under control.”

  “On it,” Apollo said. “This club will rebuild as needed.”

  “We’re broke,” Kami said.

  “No, you’re not,” Jake said. “Petey has all the cash he’s been collecting. I’m sure he’ll tell you.”

  “Come on,” Petey said. “I’ll give you anything, man. Okay? I was working them. I was working the cartel. For you, Apollo.”

  “Shut him up,” Apollo said.

  Slaughter grabbed a bandana from his back pocket.

  “Wait,” Jake said. “Give me that.”

  Jake took the bandana from Slaughter and handed it to Blaine. He grinned and Blaine nodded.

  Blaine opened his jeans and stuck his hand right down in them. Right in front of everyone. He dug around, bent his knees, and kept going. He shut his left eye and bit his lip. He took the bandana out and held it up by the corner.

  “That’ll do it,” Blaine said. “Piss, shit, and jizz. My kind of combo.”

  “What the fuck…,” Kami said.

  Apollo let himself slip a little and he smiled.

  Slaughter winced as he put the bandana around Petey’s mouth and tied it tight. Petey tried to scream and then threw up. Slaughter pushed Petey away, letting Petey fall to the ground. Slaughter turned his head and groaned.

  “That’s disgusting,” Slaughter said.

  “I think we’re done here,” Jace said. “Keep the cartel away from Back Down Devil and keep everyone away from Frelen. Understand?”

  “We got it,” Kami said. He turned and walked to Jake. “You came through, brother.”

  “I said I would.”

  “I’d kill everyone behind me to get you to wear our cut.”

  “There’s only one cut for me, Kami,” Jake said. He put his hand out and one of the prospects tossed him the Back Down Devil cut that had been buried. Jake put it on and finally felt right at home. “Sorry, brother.”

  Kami put his hand out and Jake took it. They then hugged.

  “Hey,” Kami said. “You take care of her.”

  With that, Kami pushed away and walked away.

  Jake turned and saw Keira getting out of the car. She walked right up to him and put her hands to his leather.

  “I’ve never touched another cut before,” she whispered.

  “Listen, babe, we can work something out here…”

  “No,” Keira said. “I know what I want.”

  “Keira…”

  She then clawed at his leather cut. Her other hand slipped around to Jake’s back and grabbed his gun.

  “Whoa,” Jake said.

  All the Back Down Devil guys brought their guns out.

  “What are you doing?” Jake said.

  Keira stared at Jake and reached back with the gun. She shot out of the front tires of her car with precision.

  “Holy shit,” Blaine said. “She’s got great tits and can shoot a gun.” He looked at Apollo. “Hey, Prez, got anymore pussy we can have?”

  “Shut up, Blaine,” Jace said. “Get on your ride.”

  “What the fuck are you trying to prove?” Jake asked.

  Keira dropped the gun and jumped into Jake’s arms. She kissed him wildly and then grabbed his face.

  “My car has two flat tires. Can I have a ride?”

  Jake smiled. “Yeah, babe, you can have a ride. I’ll take good care of you.”

  “I think I’m in love with you, Jake.”

  “Don’t think. Just be it. Because you got me fucking in love with you, Keira.”

  They kissed again.

  Then Jake gave Keira a ride… an outlaw wearing a leather cut on a long and winding road, with a beautiful woman clutching at him as he rode.

  It was all Jake could ever ask for.

  Thank you for reading BROKEN ROAD! I hope you enjoyed the novella as much as I did writing it. If you did enjoy the book, then please rush over to Amazon and leave your review for the book. Reviews are your chance to voice your opinion.

  Go to my Amazon page, find BROKEN ROAD, and please leave your review:

  http://amzn.to/1i2eT2e

  ~

  KEEP GOING FOR YOUR BONUS NOVELLA – RIDING DARKNESS!

  Ready for more BACK DOWN DEVIL MC?

  Read the entire series today!

  (Note: all the books are stand alone novels and do not have to be read in order!)

  Novels

  OUTLAW REVENGE

  CRASH & BURN

  DARK FALL

  SECRET MAYHEM

  TWISTED PIECES

  STEEL TEMPTATION

  SAVAGE LOVE

&
nbsp; VIPER’S KISS

  Novellas

  RIDING DARKNESS

  WILD BLAZE

  EMPTY SECRETS

  BROKEN ROAD

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  First electronic edition January 2016

  Copyright © 2015 by London Casey

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part of any form.

  AND NOW… YOUR BONUS BACK DOWN DEVIL MC NOVELLA… RIDING DARKNESS!

  *** Thank you for being a loyal and awesome reader! ***

  RIDING DARKNESS

  A Back Down Devil MC Novella

  Ares Rhyne has worn a leather cut with a patch before, but the pain that came from having it taken away almost killed him, so he has no desire to accept the patch that Back Down Devil MC keeps offering. Living as a prospect allows him time to heal his wounds and the quiet chance of survival.

  On a mission to break up an underground gambling ring, Ares gets caught in a bloody and deadly shootout. When he escapes, he doesn't expect to have a passenger on the back of his ride...

  Desperate to finally escape the hell she has been living in, Brooke Danyers was supposed to put the gun to the sexy, tough biker's stomach and pull the trigger. Instead, she froze... and then left with him.

  There's revenge to be had, but when Ares discovers who is behind it all – and that his fate with Back Down Devil is on the line – will his steamy romance with beautiful Brooke finally destroy his ties to the club forever?

  one.

  Taken him out, man. Hurry. Fuck, Ares, hurry, bro. They’re coming. They got the first door down. What are you waiting for? You said you had this. You said you wanted this. You said you wanted… oh, fuck… they’re here, man. Ares, we’re going to die.

  Ares opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling of his rundown apartment. There were brown spots scattered like stupid polka dots thanks to water stains and who knew what else. The smell of burnt food and hot water filtered throughout the place from his neighbor up too damn early cooking her damn soup.

  On his chest, Ares held his gun tight. He looked down at it and let out his first waking breath of the day. That was how he judged his life these days, taking that first breath in the morning and then taking that last breath at night. While sleeping, he didn’t give a fuck what happened. Breathing or not. Hell, if it were possible to choose, wouldn’t everyone choose to die in their sleep? That would be peace. That would be the end. That would be true closure in life.

  But it didn’t happen like that all the time. And Ares knew it wouldn’t happen to him. Not in his life. Not with the decisions he’d made.

  He ran a hand down his leather cut. He touched the spots where there used to be patches. Patches of his success as part of another crew. He used to sit at a table. He used to smoke and drink, listening to the President talk about what the club needed to do. He used to vote on everything that came across that table. When he spoke, people gave a shit.

  That all came to an end with death at his fingertips and death within his soul.

  Ares sat up and looked to his right. A woman lay in his bed, naked. The covers were pulled down to her legs. She was on her stomach, head facing the other way. The curve of her ass was nice. There was a faded looking tattoo on her ass, something like that maybe once resembled a set of lips. If so, time hadn’t allowed that tattoo to keep its nice look.

  Shaking his head, Ares smiled and swung his feet out of the bed. He was fully dressed, as he always remained while he slept. Never knew when the time would come to fight or run. His black leather cut gave notice to everyone that he really didn’t have a club. He wasn’t quite one of the Lost Men, but he wasn’t fully patched into Back Down Devil MC either. Sometimes it mattered to Ares, sometimes it didn’t. Being part of a club meant having rules and responsibility. It meant appreciating life in a way that most people couldn’t grasp. All of that Ares had and all of that he lost.

  Ares turned and kicked the bed.

  The woman’s head popped up. She turned her head, hair covering her face. “What the fuck?”

  “Wake the fuck up. Take a shower. Make coffee or something. Then get the fuck out.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “You’re not my wife, babe,” Ares said. “You’re nothing. Just like me. We’re all nothing. So be nothing. Be gone.”

  Ares walked out of the bedroom and through the apartment. It was a crash pad and nothing more. He could have had a nicer place, but what would that prove? Miller had always taken good care of Ares, calling him the best prospect he’d ever seen. Ares never thought he’d be a bitch prospect again, but the cards life dealt were as such. But it kept things quiet on the outside. Inside, Ares fought a war nobody could quite understand. If anyone from his old club tried to come and fuck with him, they’d see him as a prospect and back off. Not that something of that nature truly worried Ares; he paid his debt to his old club and was sent off with nothing except a black leather cut and a scar on his chest.

  When Ares opened the door to his apartment, the smell of the rotten soup made his eyes water. For a split second, it made him think of the night before, with that woman from his bedroom. He licked his lips and cringed. He wondered what he had licked and what he had tasted.

  “Should have brushed my teeth,” he whispered.

  The neighbor’s door opened and a short, old woman stood there. She smiled a toothless smile and held a metal pot by its handle. The liquid inside the pot - considered to be soup - danced close to the edge of the pot.

  “Ares, there you are,” Mrs. Harrinberg said. “I made you some soup.”

  Ares leaned over and looked into the pot. It was cloudy water with something that maybe was a mushroom floating on top. If faced with a choice of eating the soup and eating the chick in his bed, Ares would take his chances with the woman again.

  “Thanks,” Ares said. “That looks… like something…”

  “Have some. Look at you. You look so hungry.”

  “I have to get going,” Ares said. “Will you save some for me?”

  Mrs. Harrinberg nodded and smiled.

  Ares knew she would never save the damn soup. In fact, by the time Ares made it to the door to the landing, Mrs. Harrinberg was already knocking on another door. She would do this for a good hour until the soup was too cold. Then she’d go back and reheat the nasty stuff and try again.

  It was a wonder someone in the building hadn’t killed her yet.

  Ares took the steps two at a time, his hands balled into fists. He was in the mood to kill. The mood came in waves and lately there had been some serious talk within the MC about problems with other clubs. Eight Under MC were gearing up quite a bit, seeking revenge. They were moving in silence, waiting for the right time to strike.

  Ares welcomed it all.

  The good, the bad, the bloody. Whatever the hell it was, he wanted it. He wanted the missions from Miller. He wanted the bitch work to keep his mind focused on something else. Because when Ares closed his eyes, all he saw was…

  Ares, we’re going to die.

  Ares opened the door to his apartment building and was faced with two men. One had a gun pointed at him. The other one stood with a fist cocked back. Before Ares could make a sound or a move, something hit him in the face. He wasn’t sure if it was the gun or the fist. Either way, it knocked him out cold.

  two.

  Brooke stood on the balcony that overlooked most of Frelen and enjoyed the last few drags of her cigarette. She stared east, looking at the city and then what had the appeal of a desolate desert. If it were the other side of the building, she would have
been able to see the ocean. That was the good view. That was the expensive view.

  Armen would never spend that kind of money, not for a view. Hell, Brooke was surprised he even paid for this room as it was. The last time they had been moving around and trying to set shit the fuck up Brooke slept in an abandoned building using newspapers as some kind of blanket. That meant this hotel was a goddamn luxury right now. And the cigarette tasted great. All Brooke needed was a cup of coffee.

  The door behind her slid open and Armen stood holding a steaming cup of coffee.

  “You have to taste this,” Armen said. “This is good shit.”

  “Perfect,” Brooke said. She took the mug and smelled it. She loved the smell of fresh, hot coffee. She sipped the coffee and then took a deep drag on the cigarette. With her eyes shut… “Perfect…”

  A calming sense came over Brooke, but it lasted all of a few seconds before Armen spoke and ruined it.

  “We’re close,” Armen said. “We have to get through tonight and then we’ll run again. Okay?”

  Brooke nodded. The coffee mug in her hand shook. “Why? I mean, I get why, but I just…”

  “Brooke, we have to do this. Someone in one of these dirty motorcycle clubs is the enemy. Remember that. These guys like money, booze, and pussy. I’ve got four other girls lined up for this one. I offered to give them a cut.”

  “But you won’t.”

  “Fuck no. They’re fucking whores. They don’t need a thing.”

  “And I’m doing this too?”

  “Yes,” Armen said. He walked to the railing and stared out to the horizon. “Yes. I need you there, Brooke. I need you to look like a whore. Just like the rest of them. You’re smarter and you’ll collect a lot of cash on this. Then we shut it down and run like hell.”