Big Dog

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Authors: Ryder Dane

BOOK: Big Dog
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Big Dog
Burning Bastards MC [1]
Ryder Dane

Warning: For Mature Adult Audiences.  Contains language and actions some may deem offensive.  Contains extreme violence.  MF with MFM scenes.

In book one of the Burning Bastards MC: Big Dog, Hugh Dougherty, was out for payback.  His only hope was to find the one thing to put an end to a rival club's treachery.  His future depended on something called the Oracle, and everyone around him was feeling his wrath.   

Future had been betrayed by the Burning Bastards once, she wasn't going to let it happen again.  She built a life without them, but when they come looking for the Oracle, she was left without a choice.  She confronts her past with the MC President by her side; however, is it enough to put her demons to rest were the club is concerned?

Ride along with the Burning Bastards MC as Big Dog struggles to obtain his Future and Future learns that personal demons can be put to rest with the right type of man.

 

Big Dog

Burning Bastards MC

Book One

 

by Ryder Dane

 

© Copyright July 2014 JK Publishing, Inc.

ISBN # 9781310431081

All cover art and logo © Copyright July 2014 by JK Publishing, Inc.

All rights reserved.

 

Edited by Caroline Kirby

Artwork by Jess Buffett

Published by JK Publishing, Inc.

 

 

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Dedication

 

My favorite Old Man

 

 

 

Table of Content

 

Dedication

 

Chapter One

 

Chapter Two

 

Chapter Three

 

Chapter Four

 

Chapter Five

 

Chapter Six

 

Chapter Seven

 

Chapter Eight

 

Chapter Nine

 

Chapter Ten

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Epilogue

 

Books by Ryder Dane

 

Excerpt from the Next Burning Bastards MC

 

Excerpt from Sharing Freedom

 

Excerpt from Bed of Roses

 

JK Publishing, Inc. Author List

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

9:30 p.m. Friday night…

 

Future was finishing her set on stage in the bar when three of the biggest men she’d seen in ages walked in. They looked around and walked to the bar to place their orders. From the way the room got quiet when they walked in, she knew the patrons were waiting for trouble to begin.

Her audience was lost before her music signaled the end of her dance, so she slid her feet back into the four inch heels and stomped to the bar. The skintight body stocking she wore drew admiring stares as she walked by the men in the bar. She grabbed the short barely-cover-my-ass skirt from the back of one of the barstools, and wrapped it around her waist, before lifting the hinged counter and walking behind the long, wooden bar. She didn’t normally pole dance, but when employees don’t show up, the Boss had better be willing to step in and do the job, or else. Kendal was one of the bartenders tonight and she was becoming flustered. She walked over to where the three roughly dressed men had the little woman standing.

“Hey, Kendal, there’s customers waiting, and you can’t stand around flirting with good looking bikers without starting a riot with your fan club over there. It’s about time for your set anyway, I’ll take care of these guys for you.” She smiled at the younger girl to let her know she was trying to help her, and she was rewarded with a tentative smile and shoulder shrug.

“I’m sorry, Future. I would appreciate it if you could help these gentlemen. They want to know where we have stashed the Oracle. I don’t know what they’re talking about, do you?” Kendal backed away and almost ran into the other girl slinging beer down the bar to a customer.

The three men looked even more dangerous than they did scary. They didn’t appear to be related, except by the colors they were showing on the back of their leather vests. “So, boys, now that you’ve scared the daylights out of her, what can I get for you?”

The man with the three day old beard and shaggy dark brown hair scowled at her, but tried to keep his temper in check. She knew men like these, she wasn’t going to burst into tears when one of them frowned at her. If she showed these men weakness, they would walk over her. She kept a polite smile in place, when she really wanted to lock the doors and hide in her closet. The Burning Bastards MC were a group she couldn’t trust. They’d betrayed her once, and she didn’t plan to allow it to happen a second time.

“We offer a wide variety of beer and wine is red or white. We have three whiskies for you to choose from, and we carry a lot of soda. So what’s your drink?”

Mr. Tall, dark, and scary rolled his eyes at her,
actually rolled his eyes
. She wanted to laugh, until he reached into the front of his jeans and pulled out a fat roll of money. He counted out five one hundred dollar bills, and put the rest back in his pocket. His big hand slapped down on the cash, and pushed it her way on the bar, keeping his fingers on the bills. “Like the girl said, we’re looking for the Oracle, you have it—we want it. It’s as simple as that. Nobody’s trying to scare the girl, and we aren’t here to cause trouble.”

Oh yeah, this guy had the voice to match the looks. It was a damn shame she was about to piss him off. It was probably the best though, she had a soft spot for men who looked and acted like he did, and they had both been pricks. It was better to get it over with and move on with the night. She leaned onto the bar with her ample breasts cradled over her folded arms, and looked up at him and his companions.

“Mr., if I had an Oracle, do you think I’d be here in this place, pole dancing and slinging beer to a bunch of drunk bikers and rednecks? I don’t know where you got your information, but I haven’t got shit that I haven’t worked my ass off for. I don’t have your Oracle. I told you, I have beer, wine, and whiskey.” Just for shits and giggles she threw in, “I’m afraid you boys are in the wrong place, I’m not sure where the Hobbit village is, but if you Google it, it should come up. They might have one.” She turned to walk away and a hand snagged her ponytail to stop her from leaving.

Dammit, she knew better than to taunt guys like these, she turned back to see the grim looks sent her way by all three men. “All right, I apologize, but you have to admit, it’s not every day someone comes in here and demands something that sounds like it came from a movie.”

The hand holding her hair pulled her closer, and his other hand tucked the bills he’d placed on the bar into her bra. “We’ll be back around later on, sweet cheeks, you keep that attitude, I like attitude. In the meantime, look around for the Oracle. We know it’s here, and we aren’t leaving town without it.” One of his fingers brushed her nipple as he moved his hand from her bra top. He let go of his hold on her hair, and she hated the knowledge that she was disappointed when he let go.

She had to shake herself a bit, and clear her head. He was right, he wouldn’t leave without taking the Oracle. Damn, just when she got comfortable thinking she was finally away from her past, they had to come looking for her. It had been this way nearly her entire life, and she was going to put a stop to it this time. She had roots here. She had made a few friends, and she liked her life.

At closing time, she locked the doors and made sure the serving glasses and dishes were put in the dishwasher, and the trashcans had the lids on them in the back storeroom. She learned her lesson about going out at three in the morning by herself, the creeps and lowlifes would love to catch a woman on her own with no protection, and no one around to hear if she had the chance to scream. So John or Wanda could take the trash to the dumpster in back, and do their usual clean up around daylight, so everything would be ready before they opened tonight.

She went into the basement and around the cases of beer and kegs for the taps, to the small panels on the far wall. The left one opened and shut behind her with a simple push of her hand. She walked through the short hallway that was actually a thirty-foot tunnel to go into her home. It had been one of the unknown perks when she bought the place.

The realtor hadn’t known about the tunnel; she sold the place to her on the condition she had to take both of the buildings, and it was only after they’d closed the deal that Mr.Brennbury had knocked on her door the day after closing, and showed her the passageway. The place was built in the 1920s and had been a speakeasy during prohibition. The tunnel had been built to sneak some very prominent persons out of the building, on the few occasions the place had been raided. The house wasn’t anything fancy, but it was comfortable, and they had left almost all of the furniture with the sale.

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