Duke (The Black Hornets MC Book 3)

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  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

  THE END

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  Copyright © 2018 by Savannah Rylan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Chapter 1

  Duke

  “So, when are we going to retaliate against them?” I asked.

  “Damn, Duke. The hell’s wrong with you today?” Jagger, our new prospect, asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just sick of the cartel thinking that they have the upper hand.” I said.

  “Do you guys think we need to fill in the High Rollers on what’s going on? You think this shit will come back-lashing on them because of the work we do for them?” Jace asked. “Hell, it’s obviously backlashed on the Dead Souls.”

  “No,” Dean said.

  “It’s a good question,” Maverick said.

  “Finally. Someone’s got some sense about them,” I murmured.

  “Who dug a stick up your ass today?” Jagger asked.

  “Shut it, prospect. You’re not even supposed to be speaking during these meetings,” I said.

  “Enough!” Dean exclaimed. “If you can’t be like Thor, then shut the fuck up so I can speak.”

  Everyone peered over at the behemoth man in the corner. If people thought Maverick was massive, then no one had truly met Thor. He was a functioning mute, stood at a whopping six-foot-six, was stacked to the brim with muscle, and needed all of his damn clothes professionally made and tailored to his stature. The man grinned in the corner, like he had been let in on some sort of joke taking place. I was ready to get this damn church meeting over with. We’d all been gathered for over an hour and the only thing that had been addressed was that Diesel got jumped and that Thor was back from his assignment with the High Rollers.

  Instead of taking action, we were just fucking stuck here talking about it.

  “Okay. Here’s what we need to address really quickly. The issue with the cartel has spiraled. We have one of the assholes dead, and a head honcho on the run. Then this shit with Diesel happened. They are trying to spook us, which means we need to stay alert,” Dean said.

  “And again, my question stands. Should we inform the High Rollers as to what’s going on?” Jace asked.

  “No,” Thor said.

  We all flickered our gaze over to the rumbling voice before turning back to Dean.

  “I side with Thor on this one. We don’t have to tell them yet. Right now, the issue is contained. Right now, the cartel’s issue is with us. Well, us and the Dead Souls. If we catch wind that they’re trying to branch out beyond Redding, we’ll call a meeting with the High Rollers. Otherwise, we keep it under wraps as best as we can,” Dean said.

  “So, what’s the plan then?” Rock asked.

  Yeah. Dean didn’t just call this meeting with us. He called this meeting with all of the Dead Souls as well. Mostly to keep his daughter, Brynn, safe. Partially because Diesel was beat up. A little bit to make sure things were going smoothly in their area and that the bullshit he was pulling wasn’t affecting his daughter like he feared.

  “The plan is to be prepared for anything. That’s what we’re doing, and that’s what you guys need to be doing as well. We might need you guys if things get ugly and this mess turns into an all-out war,” Dean said.

  “Yeah I’d like to find out how they knew to come after me to get to you guys,” Diesel said.

  “I can start out that story,” Jace said.

  “And Maverick can finish it,” I murmured.

  “There was a young woman that walked into one of our bars a few weeks back wanting help. Said she trafficked drugs for the cartel and wanted out. Wanted help trying to save her brother. We took on her case, I sheltered her until we could get things figured out, and the man Dean is talking about that was killed was her handler. Sebastian,” Jace said.

  “The girl’s name?” Rock asked.

  “Oh, it was Leti,” Jace said.

  “Wait, your Leti?” Diesel asked.

  “Yes. My Leti.”

  “How’s she doing, by the way?” Colt asked.

  “Eh, the pregnancy’s kicking her ass. She’s been pretty sick throughout it. Doesn’t seem to be letting up much,” Jace said.

  “Anyway,” I grumbled.

  “Who pissed in his Cheerios?” Thor murmured.

  “If you’re whispering, you’re not very good at it!” I exclaimed.

  “Duke, do you need a nap?” Dean asked.

  “What I need is for this meeting to wrap so we can actually do something,” I said. “We are just sitting here chatting instead of doing anything.”

  “Fuck, Duke,” Dean said. “We are trying to work through all of this.”

  “It’s not my fault Maverick decided to attach himself to someone associated with the cartel,” I said with a laugh.

  “What now?” Diesel asked.

  “That’s the other part of this story,” Maverick sighed. “We had a young woman infiltrate our ranks before turning on her father. He’s a higher-up on the cartel chain. Manages not only the ins and outs of the U.S.-side of operations, but controls who is killed and how. The thick of it is the daughter wanted out, the father held her mother and sisters hostage while trying to get her to come back home, and when we went to go save the family, he got away,” Maverick said.

  “And let me guess. This ‘young woman’ is also your Gabby,” Diesel said.

  “Yep,” I said, popping my “p”.

  “Then, yeah. Sounds like we need to be prepared for anything. And the rest of your guys,” he said pointing to me, Colt, Thor, and Jagger, “need to keep your pants on.”

  Dean let out a laugh.

  “You may be beat to shit, Diesel, but you at least still have your humor.” Diesel shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

  “All right, Jace, get with Rock and see what else you can find. I want to know everything we can about this fucking Rojas Diablos cartel,” Dean said.

  The meeting wrapped up shortly after that and the “men with women” stayed behind to shoot the shit. Probably about how they had their balls in cups on their shelves at home. Me? I wasn’t sticking around for the sausage fest. I was exhausted after being out all night and all I wanted to do was crack open a beer, flop down onto my couch, and pass the fuck out. I rode through the neighborhood and got onto the back roads of our hometown. Redding. The place I’d called home more times in my life than not. It had taken me in when I was a prospect and kept a tight hold on me ever since. But slowly, it was becoming infested with the one thing I couldn’t stand.

  Relationships.

  “Fuck relationships,” I groaned as I parked my motorcycle in the garage.

  It was ridiculous, really. The club was in the throes of the biggest fight they’d ever seen, and the men I called brothers were whipping their dicks out whenever they got the fucking chance. It was sickening, really. How they were prioritizing their sexual desires over the safety of the club. And then getting pissed off at me that I went out partying the other night! The hell’s up with that shit?

  “Can’t even keep their dick in their pants,” I murmured as I grabbed a beer from the fridge.

  I cracked it open with my hand and made my way to the couch. I eased myself down onto it and tipped the bottle up to my lips, chugging as much as I could. I couldn't believe the shit we had gotten ourselves into. The steaming pile of bullshit that had dropped onto our doorstep was too much to believe at times. We weren’t even involved with the fucking cartel in the first damn place until Leti showed up. With her seductive stare and her innocent features that forced Jace’s damn cock right from his jeans. Dean should’ve known better. Someone should’ve put their damn foot down when he announced that Leti was staying at his fucking place. We all knew Jace better than that. And now, the girl wasn’t just living with him. She was knocked up!

  “Fucking figures,” I grumbled.

  And Maverick! Maverick’s bullshit didn’t shock me in the slightest. My issue with him was his absolute idiocy. You mean to tell me one of the smartest men in our damn club didn’t see that she was trying to slip some information off his ass? That’s what men got when they were entranced by women. They got stupid. Sloppy. Messy, in all the wrong fucking ways. That’s why I left shit behind when I was in high school. That’s why I broke my girl’s heart. The life we led isn’t a life for women. For children. For any of that bullshit. It’s why I fucked around without getting attached. With condoms. Always.

  The hell were Jace and Maverick thin
king?

  “Idiots,” I sighed.

  I drained my beer and set it on the table beside my couch. I laid myself down onto the cushions, readying myself for a nap. I pulled the blanket over my legs I kept tossed over the back of the piece of furniture, then closed my eyes and waited for the alcohol to take me under.

  Then a knock came at my door.

  “For fuck’s sake!” I exclaimed.

  Throwing the covers off my legs, I pulled myself up from the couch. Now, I was tired, pissed off, and ornery. What a fucking brilliant combination. A faster knock came at the door and I gritted my teeth, trying not to throw every damn cuss word I had at the door. I didn’t know who the fuck was standing on the other side, but they were about to get a slice of me most people never saw. The knocking continued and continued, rattling my damn brain and rushing anger through my veins I’d need another beer just to tame.

  “What the hell do you—”

  I ripped the door open and stared out into… my front yard. There was no one there. Until I looked down. And when I looked down, I found myself staring into the eyes of a young girl. She stood about to my waist. Maybe a little shorter. And she fire in her eyes. Attitude in her downturned frown.

  Huh. That frown looked familiar.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Are you Duke?” the young girl asked.

  “And if I am?”

  The young girl stuck her hand out.

  “Do I owe you money?” I asked.

  “No. You owe me a handshake,” she said.

  I snickered. “And why is that?”

  “Because I’m your daughter, and I’d like to shake the hand of my father.”

  Chapter 2

  Eden

  “Sierra! Get back here!” I exclaimed.

  But all I heard was the front door slam.

  “Sierra! Where do you think you’re going!?” I yelled.

  I ran downstairs in my bathrobe with water dripping from my untouched hair. She always did this. Always trying to corner me in the bathroom or the shower or the kitchen. Places where she knew she could catch me off guard.

  Lately, my daughter had become curious about her father ever since that stupid father-daughter picnic in the park on the other side of town. Her school had thrown it. Her insensitive, idiotic, dumbass school. I had to call and ask permission to see if I could take her since Sierra didn’t have a father—or even a father figure—in her life. And once we got there, she started asking all sorts of questions about him.

  Questions about the boy that got me pregnant in high school.

  She had incessantly been asking about him ever since that damn picnic. And while I kept telling her that her father had left us, it didn’t seem to be enough any longer. She wanted to know what he looked like. What he sounded like. What he was like. What his likes and dislikes were. Why did he leave us? Did he know I was pregnant at the time? Why hadn’t I tried contacting him over the years?

  Him leaving us wasn’t one hundred percent true, but her father was dangerous. He lived a very dangerous life. He had been a crass young boy, and I knew him well enough to know it’d never get better. Only worse. I didn’t want Sierra involved with her father. Not with the life he had chosen to run just before we graduated high school. But because my daughter had his curious wit and his unfailing desire to know answers, she kept cornering me in places I couldn't get away from.

  And this morning, it had been in my shower.

  I looked out the window as I held my bathrobe closed. I saw her walking up the street, heading to her best friend’s house. I wanted to go after her. I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her that details of her father didn’t matter. He might not have left us, but he chose the life he did over me. He chose to be part of the danger instead of at my side. And that showed me exactly where he stood as a man. I watched her walk up the hill and round the corner. Disappearing out of sight. I knew she needed time with her best friend, but I’d worry about her until she got back.

  I always did whenever she was out of sight.

  I made my way back upstairs and got ready for my day. Granted, there wasn’t much to get ready for. It was a random Saturday, and one I had off work. Being the manager of a restaurant wasn’t glamorous, but I was able to work my way up from a waitressing gig that didn’t require me to work weekends. I worked like a dog during Sierra’s school hours, brought her to the restaurant to hang out and do homework while I picked up another shift some nights, then we came back home to our small townhouse and lived our lives. It wasn’t a great life. Then again, there wasn’t much out there for teenagers that got pregnant right before graduation.

  But it was a job that afforded me time with my daughter. That enabled me to get to her doctor’s appointments and school functions and still be the mother I wanted to be. Because Sierra deserved that. She deserved for at least one parent to be there for her.

  Well, that wasn’t quite accurate, either. I had technically left him. I had been the one to break things off. But that was after sitting on the decision he had made for his life for two weeks without telling me. Two weeks of rushing or whatever that nonsense was with that stupid club without telling me. How could I trust him with a child if he couldn't even tell me about his decision to fraternize with something like that? With a motorcycle club?

  I didn’t even know he owned a motorcycle back in high school!

  In the middle of getting prepared for my lazy Saturday, I fell asleep on my bed. My hair dried in an absolute rat’s nest and my drenched bathrobe stank with the subtle smell of mold by the time I woke up. I pulled myself upright and groaned. I looked over at the clock and saw that I had slept for almost two hours.

  Shit.

  “Sierra?” I called out.

  I slipped my robe off my shoulders and quickly pulled on some clothes. Just a set of underwear, sports bra, some yoga pants, and a t-shirt that was too big for me. Nothing special.

  “Sierra?” I called out again.

  I went and checked in Sierra’s room, but the light wasn’t even on. She must not have come back from her best friend’s house yet. I made my way downstairs, resolving myself to a cup of coffee. Or possibly a pot. I needed something to help me wake up. I couldn’t just sleep my Saturday away. I made my way into the kitchen and plugged in the coffee pot. My eyes were barely open as I filled the compartment with water and poured ground coffee into the filter. I just… dumped it in. Didn’t measure. Didn’t dig it out. Just tipped up the can and dumped the grounds in until it looked like enough.

  “There. That should do it,” I sighed.

  I turned the pot on and eased myself around. I was so tired that I hadn’t even gotten hungry yet. My head fell back and I stared up at the ceiling, groaning to myself. I couldn’t believe I’d fallen back asleep on the bed. It was almost ten in the morning. I had things that needed to get done. Sierra and I needed to head to the grocery store. We needed to get to Walmart. I needed to take her clothes shopping after this last growth spurt had left her looking very odd in her clothes that were a little too small now.

  So much money, left and right.

  My eyes settled onto the refrigerator, reminding me that I still needed to get the creamer. But as I made my way for the fridge, I noticed a note tacked up onto it. Well, a sticky note rather, practically falling off the cool fridge door as I approached it. I held out my hand and the note fell into my palms, but my eyes bulged the second I read it.

  If you won’t talk about him, I’ll find him.

  My head whipped up and I took off from the kitchen. If I wasn’t awake beforehand, I was at that moment. I barreled up the stairs, taking them two by two. There was no way she knew. There was no way in hell she knew where to find her father. Right? I blasted into my room and dropped to my knees. I pulled out the tin box I kept underneath my bed. Where I placed my journal.

  A journal filled with letters from him.

  I pulled out the journal and sifted through them, counting to myself. One. Two. Three. Four. I knew exactly how many letters he had sent me over the years. I knew exactly how many of them I had received before he had stopped writing. Detailing his life. What he was doing. How happy he was. How he wanted to see me again. I never wrote him back. Well, I did. In my journal. I stuck each letter and each envelope against the letter in the journal I had written back, but never had the guts to send. I don’t know why I never responded to him. Why I never reached back out. Maybe part of me was ashamed for leaving him in the first place. Maybe part of me was mad that he chose that lifestyle over me. Maybe it was because I was mad at myself for leaving Redding. For leaving him behind. For never telling him about Sierra in the first place, wondering if that would make him stay.