Claiming Crusher: Savage Brothers MC (37 page)

“Hey!”

“What’s up?”
Maybe she decided to give me her number after all.
She rounds the front of her car and comes to stand in front of me.

“Why did you call me Layla?” She has her forehead scrunched up and she looks adorable.

“It’s your name right?” I ask her seriously. I know it used to drive her crazy when people would call her Layla because someone would always end up singing the song with it.

“Yo Cain! You just comin back from town?” I look over and Ares is walking towards me. Ares is a big motherfucker, I’m talking 6’6” and built like a brick house.

“Yea man, just hit up H.E.B. why?” I check him over, he doesn’t seem to be pissed about anything. Yet I’m one of the few he actually let’s see him get pissed. He likes to blank out on anyone else if something bothers him.

“Nothin bro, just need some smokes. I’ll ride in, get some gas too.” He gives me a chin lift and sits on his bike.

“I thought you quit man? Your ass is gonna get Cancer with all the road fumes!” Yes I am conscious about health, I may not make great decisions but I do try to take care of myself when I’m not partying. The only time I touch any drugs is before I brawl. Hence my name: “Cain.” I like a little cocaine before my fight, it helps get me hyped up and ready to rip a fucker apart.

“When did you grow a pussy? I left my momma a long time ago, but if you wanna do some dishes go on in and let Candy know. She’ll be happy to let you help her clean up.”

“Fuck you man, we both know my dick’s bigger than yours! Don’t say I didn’t worn your ass, when you’re hacking up like an old fucker.” He starts laughing and flips me off at the dick comment. We’ve both fucked bitches out in the bar so he knows my dick is bigger. I turn back to London,
shit I got sidetracked.

“Your name’s Cain?”

“Yea sweet cheeks. Why’d you follow me? You know you’re in the lion’s den coming onto the compound.” She gives me a little smile and shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s ok darlin’ I’m not scared of cat’s.”
Oh man, this chick is pretty fuckin perfect!
I can’t help it I bust out laughing. She’s in the middle of a biker compound and she’s calling us a bunch of cats. If she only knew. The prospect looks at me and I give him a chin lift so he knows she’s ok. Doesn’t matter the douche shouldn’t have let her through the gate in the first place.

“So how did you know my name?” She smiles at me but looks curious now
. I’ve got her interested. I bet Layla was the last thing she expected to come out of my mouth.

“Well we went to school together but I’m guessin you don’t remember me?”

“Trust me Cain, I would remember you if we went to school together. I’m pretty sure I would have rode on the back of your bike a few times if you had.” She gives me a cocky grin.
Yea I bet you were the fuckin cat’s meow to all those boys not knowing how to handle someone like you.

“Ah no, when I was in school I didn’t have my bikes or my car. I think the last time I saw those icy blue eyes I was in 7
^th
grade. You were always a cute little thing, but I must say I’m really appreciating this grown up version of you a lot more.” She looks towards the sky like she’s thinking really hard.

“I know a few boys who moved around that time, but I never knew a Cain. Did I ever talk to you?”

“Yea actually you used to ask me to help you with your math, I don’t know why though. You were really smart, it was almost like you were just fuckin with me.” Her eye’s light up and she looks me over slowely from head to toe.

“I can take my clothes off if you wanna get a better look?”

“Were you this cocky back then? Cause I’d definitely remember you. The boy I remember always asking for help, I was in 6
^th
grade and he moved, and his name was not Cain.”

“I know sweet cheeks, my name is Brandon Meeks. I go by Cain now.” Her eyes bug out and she looks at me from head to toe again. Just to be a bastard I reach back and start to pull the back of my shirt off at the nape of my neck.

“Eeek! What are you doing?” she yells.

“I told you I’d take them off so you can get a better look.” I give her my panty dropper again and she returns it with her own sexy smile.

“Oh you’re a bad, bad boy. Your straight trouble now aren’t you?” I throw my shirt in my back pack and wink at her.

“I don’t know what your talkin bout, I’m over here sweatin like a sinner in church, just tryin to cool off. What about you? You wanna take yours off and cool down too?” She beams a wide smile at me.

“Oh My God! You are bad! You were so sweet and shy back then!”

“Yea and you were short and didn’t have a juicy ass either. I see time’s been good to you though.” She just smiles wide and shakes her head as I try to get into her pants.

“I gotta go Brandon, it’s so awesome to see you though.”

“All right London, give me your number so we can keep in touch this time, yea? And it’s just Cain.”

“Alright Cain, type your number in my phone.” I grab it and enter my digits then quickly press the call button, in case she tries to sneak off without giving me hers. My phone vibrates and I hands hers back.

“Safe drive and text me sometime.” I lean down and kiss her right on the lips. It was chaste but she clearly was not expecting me to just go right in. I’m not a pussy, I’ll eat some, but I won’t be one.

“Have a good one, oh and Cain? It’s not baby.” She says as she’s getting into her car. I walk around to her window and she rolls it down. I lean on the car and put my face close to hers.

“Your only baby because I think you’re as sexy as my bike. I told you, she’s the only other one I’ve ever called baby before.” I kiss her on the lips quickly again and walk towards the door to the club.
Yea she’ll be back or text me.

Available now:

Secrets
(A Russkaya Mafiya Novel)

Book 1 Tate and Emily’s Story

Exposed
(A Russkaya Mafiya/Oath Keepers MC)

Book 2 London, Cain and Cameron’s Story

Relinquish
(A Russkaya Mafiya/Oath Keepers MC)

Book 3 Avery and 2 Piece’s Story

Corrupted
(A Russkaya Mafiya Novel)

Book 4 Viktor and Elaina’s Story

Coming soon:

Friction
(An Oath Keepers MC Novel)

Twist’s Story

Forsaken Control
(An Oath Keepers MC Novel) Ares Story

Unwanted Sacrifices (
A Russkaya Mafiya Novel) Nikoli’s Story

Unexpected Forfeit
(A Ground and Pound Novel)

Stay up to date with Sapphire:

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Gods of Chaos MC

By:
Honey Palomino

Ryder

We’re not called the

Gods of Chaos for nothing.

T
he glare of
the streetlights hit the chrome on my bike as I turned off the freeway and onto the unpaved road that led to my clubhouse. Dirt flew up on both sides of my thick tires. My headlight cast shadows of the tall, towering pine trees of the Tillamook Forest across the road; the only thing lighting my way through the heavy darkness of the woods. Five curvy miles later, I was separated from all civilization, and the familiar peacefulness washed over me.

I was home. I was right where I belonged. I might have outgrown all the partying a little over the years, but it was all I had ever known. That life out there? Away from the clubhouse? I didn’t belong there. I never had, and I never would.

As I roared up to the rundown cabin, the never-ending party was at its peak. Deafeningly loud music poured from the open doors and windows, and a glowing amber light spilled onto the dirty bikes parked out front. Each person that trailed in and out of the door had a drink in their hand and most had a smile on their face. The women all had a wiggle in their step, as they sashayed past leather-clad, drunken hell-raisers, flirtatiously batting their eyes and swinging their voluptuous hips.

The sun had set, and just like it did every night, the wildness began seeping out into the darkness at the God of Chaos MC Clubhouse like a slithering, evil snake.

In the corner
of the parking lot, a circle had formed around Riot and Slade, two of the Gods. They were in their usual fighting stance, playing a game they both seemed to enjoy immensely, for whatever perverted reason. Both shirtless, their dirty jeans and boots were the only protection that stood between their flesh and the ground, or each other’s fists.

Slade was bleeding through his grin, while Riot danced around him, trying to get another hit in before Slade knocked him out. Slade always won. I didn’t bother to keep watching, because it always played out the same way. Slade would knock him out, then pick him up and take him inside and pour whiskey down his throat till he shook it off and they laughed about it into the early morning hours. They were both more than a little crazy, but I loved them.

Near the window to the right of the front door, I saw Zander, my VP. His old lady, Valerie, was on her knees, servicing him with a vigor that almost made me envious. I laughed when he caught my eye and winked at me as I pulled off my helmet and parked my bike. He gave me a thumbs up as I strode past him, shaking my head with a smile as he buried his hands in his old lady’s black curls and looked up at the shining stars sprinkled in the sky above us.

The sound of breaking glass and a string of words that would have made a sailor blush echoed out the window on the other side of the front door.

As I approached the door, I ducked just in time to miss the flying beer bottle that escaped from the doorway, followed by Thorn, our prospect, – one hand gripping his girlfriend Tiff’s ass, and the other outstretched and reaching for a wall to steady them both on. His hand missed by two inches, and they both tumbled to the ground in front of me, their tongues still firmly tangled together.

I stepped over them, picked up the surprisingly still intact beer bottle, and headed towards the bar to find a fresh one for myself.

This place was hardly what any normal person would consider peaceful. But that was just it. It wasn’t normal.

And my brothers here? The outliers? The fringe of society? The partiers? The survivors? They weren’t normal, either.

All we knew was chaos. The only way we knew how to live was on the edge.

We were born in it. We were raised in it.

It defines our very existence in this world.

Hell, every day we continue to create it, just by being alive.

We’re the Gods of Chaos.

And we love every fucking chaotic second of it.

Grace

D
o you ever
wish you could change the channel on your past? Give yourself a whole new identity, and lay down the unfortunate baggage you were assigned to carry into your future?

You do your best to leave it behind, but the memories stay with you. Indelible. Unforgettable. Unforgivable.

The best thing you can do is carry on and figure out how to cope when the memories sneak up on you unexpectedly. I should know. I’ve tried everything to forget. I’ve turned my back on the places, the people, the pain. But it’s always there. Lingering, like a disease.

You can’t pick where you came from.

But, eventually, when you get old enough, you can choose where you’re headed.

And that’s what I did. As soon as I could, I left all the dysfunction of my family behind, and I ran towards my future.

Unfortunately, it stays with you, and you quickly learn you can’t forget it, no matter how much you try. If I couldn’t forget, as much as I wanted to, I could use the past and everything I survived to make a new life of my own, and hopefully save some others in the process.

My name is Grace. Grace Evans. I used to be Grace Faith Taylor. But I escaped that life, and changed my name. Unlike a lot of people with similar histories, I was able to get out alive.

The key to surviving was simply leaving. As long as I wasn’t around my family, I was safe. It was the opposite of how it was supposed to be. I didn’t have a normal home.

Now that I was out, now that I was an adult, I set out to turn it around.

I survived hell, and I knew there were others still living in it, and a lot of them had it even worse than what I went through.

My goal became
to get them all out, one by one, if that’s what it took. No matter how long, or how hard or dangerous it became, it was worth it if I saved just one girl from one more day of suffering.

I grew up, I told my story, and I put my abusers away. The trial was torture, but I got what I wanted. Ten years each. I did my best to put it all behind me after that.

I changed my name to give myself a little distance, a little autonomy.

Then, I worked my ass off until I got into the exact position I needed to be in to do what I had decided I was put here on this Earth to do.

Stop the madness. Stop the abuse of women and children by predatory monsters that wanted only to use them up and spit them out.
To do so, I became a monster myself. A one woman army fighting day and night, living and breathing my mission until I
was
the mission.

There was no personal life. There was just my life. And all the others I planned on saving along the way.

I was determined to let nothing get in my way, and so far, nothing had.

Not until now. Now, I had a problem. An obstacle.

And it was standing over me, watching the blood stream out of my mouth with a joy so evil that it was oozing from him. The thick, heavy strike of his leather boot on my ribs pushed me back six inches in the dirt and my eyes began to blur as the flesh around them began to swell from the impact from his fists moments ago.