Rage: Royal Bastards MC Read online




  RAGE

  ROYAL BASTARDS MC #2

  KER DUKEY

  Contents

  Rage

  ROYAL BASTARDS CODE

  Royal Bastards Mc Series List

  Note from Ker

  1. Prologue

  2. Willa

  3. Willa

  4. Willa

  5. Gabe

  6. Willa

  7. Gabe

  8. Gabe

  9. Willa

  10. Gabe

  11. Gabe

  12. Willa

  13. Gabe

  14. Willa

  15. Gabe

  16. Willa

  17. Gabe

  18. Willa

  19. Gabe

  20. Willa

  21. Gabe

  22. Willa

  23. Gabe

  24. Willa

  25. Gabe

  26. Willa

  27. Gabe

  28. Willa

  29. Gabe

  30. Gabe

  31. Gabe (RAGE)

  32. Gabe

  33. Gabe

  34. Gabe

  35. Gabe

  36. Gabe

  37. Willa

  38. Willa

  39. Gabe

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Ker Dukey

  Rage

  A Royal Bastards MC Title #2

  By Ker Dukey

  RAGE

  Copyright © 2020 K Dukey

  Photo: Adobe Stock

  Editor: Word Nerd Editing

  Formatting: Book Design Formats

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ROYAL BASTARDS CODE

  PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else, and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.

  RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.

  HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.

  OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Ol’Lady. PERIOD.

  CHURCH is MANDATORY.

  LOYALTY: Takes precedence over all, including well-being.

  HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.

  TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.

  TRUST: Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.

  NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.

  Royal Bastards Mc Series List

  Erin Trejo: Blood Lust

  Chelle C Craze & Eli Abbott: Bad Like Me

  K Webster: Koyn

  Esther E. Schmidt: Petros

  Elizabeth Knox: Bet On Me

  Glenna Maynard: Lady & the Biker

  Madison Faye: Filthy Bastard

  CM Genovese: Frozen Rain

  J. Lynn Lombard: Blayze’s Inferno

  Crimson Syn: Inked In Vengeance

  B.B. Blaque: Rotten Apple

  Addison Jane: Her Ransom

  Izzy Sweet * Sean Moriarty: Broken Wings

  Nikki Landis: Ridin’ For Hell

  KL Ramsey: Savage Heat

  M.Merin: Axel

  Sapphire Knight: Bastard

  Bink Cummings: Switch Burn

  Winter Travers: Playboy

  Linny Lawless: The Heavy Crown

  Jax Hart: Desert King

  Elle Boon: Royally Broken

  Kristine Allen: Voodoo

  Ker Dukey: Animal

  KE Osborn: Defining Darkness

  Shannon Youngblood: Silver & Lace

  Royal Bastards MC Facebook Group - https://www.facebook.com/groups/royalbastardsmc/

  Website- https://www.royalbastardsmc.com/

  For those that lived through darkness and survived.

  Note from Ker

  If you haven’t read ANIMAL (Royal Bastards MC #1) please read before starting Rage to better understand the story.

  Thank you.

  &

  Enjoy

  One

  Prologue

  Willa

  I can’t even remember the first time my brother used me as a tool to make money. Being traded for favors to make rent was such a regular part of my teen-hood. I didn’t realize how abnormal I was until I met the man who saved my life.

  Gabe Cohen crashed into my world, obliterating the foundations to rubble. He built me a new life. A safe one. A protected one. The kind fairytales are made of. But fairytales don’t last, and like a cruel, twisted villain creeping out of the shadows, the old life found me and set fire to my happily ever after.

  I was left dying in the embers.

  My prince couldn’t find me amongst the ashes. His Willa died that day…but my heart kept beating.

  Stories don’t always end once the final page is turned. There’s so much more left to be written. Sometimes the final page is just the start, and it’s up to us to determine whether it remains a fairytale or a tragedy.

  The essence of the true love stories, the big ones, the beautiful, bright, epic loves, are always grown from the darkness of a fucked up beginning.

  This is ours.

  Two

  Willa

  Fifteen years old

  Fear trickles into my veins. My heart quickens as my eyes plead with my brother to release me.

  “Who takes care of you?” he demands as three of his friends gather around to watch the show. His fingertips pinch into my skin, his grip on my jaw punishing. They were waiting for me when I walked through the front door. I’d only been gone thirty minutes, but it was enough time for him to notice my absence.

  “You do,” I grit out through clenched teeth, trying not to look at all the other eyes on me. It’s an odd thing to feel both invisible and under a microscope.

  “Don’t you ever leave this house without my permission again.” He shoves me backward, relinquishing his hold, and my body hits the wall, my hair whisking around my face, offering a veil to conceal the tears threatening to fall. My chest heaves with anger and sorrow. I’m a prisoner in my own home—my own life. I’m running in place, being held down while silently screaming into a void.

  Since my father walked out on us, Milo has had to provide and take care of us. He was sixteen. I was nine. Crime was how he kept a roof over our heads and food on the table. I became a possession. The deeper into crime he delved, the more he began to see himself as a king while everyone around him became his lowly subjects. Many-feared Milo, and he fed off it, breathed it into his lungs, and expelled it into those who surrounded him. Including me. It’s been six years since my father ditched and never looked back. I can’t even blame him. If I had the means, I’d run too.

  Milo turns his attention to Anton, one of his boys who does errands around here—and who happened to come across me sneaking out the back door. “Where the fuck have you been with my sister?”

  Anton’s face turns whiter by the second, his teeth puncturing his bottom lip. I feel bad for him, but he insisted on coming with me when I tri
ed to leave, so he got himself into this situation. I have one brother, but all his sheep think they have a right to keep me locked up inside this godforsaken house.

  “She was creeping out. I thought it best someone be with her,” Anton offers, but it doesn’t matter what he says. Evil screams from within Milo’s eyes. There’s no getting out of this without violence.

  “I wasn’t creeping out. I needed something from the store,” I fume in defeated misery.

  “Why didn’t you just go get what she needed?” my brother asks him, like my voice isn’t even being spoken into the room.

  Slipping his hands into his pockets and shrugging his shoulders, Anton says, “She wouldn’t let me. Said it was personal stuff.”

  My brother’s eyes cut to me, narrowing. I grip the shoulder strap of an old purse I found buried in dad’s closet. I’d convinced myself it belonged to my mother, but it was probably one of the one-night-stands he used to bring home regularly. I don’t remember our mother. My father said she’s dead, but I’m not sure if he just wished that was the case. Milo said he doesn’t ever remember having a mother, but it didn’t make sense. He was seven when I was born, surely he would have some memory of her.

  My body stiffens under his glare. Storming over to where I stand, he snatches the purse, causing the strap to scrape down my arm, burning a path across my skin.

  “Ouch,” I whine. “Give me back my purse.” My hands swipe out attempting to take it back, but his sneer is like a snake hissing in warning before he strikes, and I curl inward.

  Opening the purse, he tips it upside down. All my belongings fall to the wooden floor beneath his feet as humiliation scolds my neck and cheeks.

  His foot kicks my wallet, keys, and tampons before he bends to pick up a packet of birth control pills. “What the fuck is this?” he booms.

  Sickness pools in my stomach. I got my period three years ago and have managed to keep it a secret. I didn’t like the thought of my brother knowing I was becoming a woman. The more I grow up, the tighter his leash on me becomes. Like he’s frightened once I’m grown, I’ll leave him too. Where the hell would I go? Anywhere else.

  A hand grips my throat, his thumb pushing against the artery in my neck. “Milo,” I choke out. My fingers claw at his hand, my feet rising to tiptoes as he pushes against me, his strength overpowering my ability to breathe.

  “Who are you fucking!” He lifts the box of pills into my face before smashing them off the wall beside my head. Speckles of black smear my vision as I attempt to shake my head.

  “Milo, man, you’re going to kill her,” Anton intervenes. He releases me abruptly, I’m sliding down the wall as air rushes into my mouth, setting fire to my throat, the oxygen like acid. A flicker of silver flashes from Milo’s pocket, and before anyone can move, he whips his wrist forward and stabs—one, two, three. Anton grunts out in pain and curls over, his body falling to the ground in a heap.

  No.

  “Fuck,” someone groans, like it’s an inconvenience and not someone’s life ending right here in the living room.

  My heart pounds in my ears. Tears track a path down my cheeks. The pool of blood leaking out from Anton’s lifeless form spreads toward my outstretched legs. Anton isn’t a friend, but he’s a human being murdered because of my actions.

  “Why?” I cry, my voice hoarse.

  “You fucking him?” His fist still clenches the bloodied knife, his eyes large and wild as he paces the floor between us. When did he become this monster?

  “What? No! God, Milo, I just wanted not to have periods anymore!” I screech.

  Marching toward me, he grasps my hair and jerks me forward, making me cry out in pain. “This is what happens when you try to leave me. This is on you,” he sneers, then releases me and storms through the kitchen.

  Climbing to my feet, I race down the hall to my room and slam the door before leaping under the covers on my bed.

  I’d read taking the pill stops your periods. That’s all I wanted, not to worry about them coming. The pharmacy clerk took pity on me this time, but said I’d have to go to Planned Parenthood for future prescriptions, which I’d never be allowed to do, so it was all for nothing anyway. Anton died for nothing.

  It’s dark when I open my eyes. I must have cried myself to sleep. Sensing movement in the room, I kick the covers back, ready to jump up if I need to. Life with Milo has never been easy. It took violence and darkness for him to rise in the ranks of the drug world. People have tested him over the years, attacking the house we managed to keep living in despite it not belonging to us. I’m always on edge. Always wary.

  “I’m sorry about earlier. You know how rough it can be out there, Willa. I fucking worry,” Milo speaks from the shadows before stepping into view, the light from the moon dancing across his face from the drapeless window.

  “You killed Anton.” I sniffle, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

  “Were you fucking him?” His voice is quiet, nothing like the boy from hours ago. The boy who robbed another of his life for something so minor.

  “You know I wasn’t,” I snap. He would know if I was doing that stuff with anyone. He keeps me by his side most of the time, and when I’m not, I’m here in my room slowly wilting inside. I hate my life. I hate him. I hate me.

  “Why would you need birth control?”

  How the hell does he even know what they are? He’s never had a steady girlfriend. Girls waltz in and out on rotation.

  “Because it’s easier than getting a period in a house where I’m not allowed to leave to buy my own tampons,” I grind out, getting to my feet to kick off my shoes. I was in such a state earlier, I got into bed fully clothed.

  “You’d tell me if any of my boys…”

  For god’s sake. I turn on him, poking a finger into his chest. When the anger subsides, and the irrational, terrifying side of Milo recedes, he’s a needy, vulnerable boy whose parents abandoned him. Only I get to see this side of him, and it’s always after he’s been a jerk to me or done something deplorable I’ve witnessed—and I’ve witnessed a lot of his darkness.

  “What would it matter to you if all your boys were fucking me? You pimped me out years ago when it suited you,” I sneer.

  Grabbing my wrist, he pins my hand to his chest and grips the back of my neck with his other, dragging me closer to him, his breath warming my face with each exhale. “I’ve never let anyone take you that way, and I’ll kill any of my boys who even try to fucking touch you.” His tone is deep and fierce, like he really believes he’s kept my innocence safe. I was eleven when I first had to “help” pay our rent. “It’s just modeling, Willa. Only…you’ll be naked.”

  I am a virgin in the technical term, my hymen is intact, but my innocence was stolen a long time ago.

  “I’m growing up. You’re going to have to get used to that and give me some freedoms, Milo,” I plead.

  “Why would I give you freedom? So you can leave me too?”

  “I will never leave you,” I grate out.

  I’m thrown to the bed, the door slamming behind him as he leaves. Just as I get up and make it to the door, the latch clicks into place from the other side. “Milo!” I scream, slamming my fist against the wood. “Milo! Let me out!”

  Arghhh! Fuck you, Milo!

  It’s almost twelve hours later when he finally unlocks the door. Dawn creeps over the horizon, the start of a new day. “Go eat,” he commands, nodding down the hall toward the kitchen.

  I know my eyes are red and swollen, but he pretends not to notice. Not one of the other guys in the house pay me any attention as I pass them, probably because of the fear Milo will gut one of them next.

  My eyes track the floor where Anton laid bleeding out. It’s as if it never happened. I pass the kitchen table, stacked with cash and Wesley’s girlfriend counting it.

  Wesley is Milo’s number two and best friend—if you can call loyalty through fear friendship.

  She tips her chin at me in acknowledgment, and I look at the c
lock above her head. It’s six a.m. The house isn’t usually this busy at this time. Pulling bread from the cupboard, I smear some peanut butter between two slices and slap them together, taking a desperate bite. Grabbing a glass of water to wash down the sandwich, I move toward the table, my eyes roaming over the cash. It’s a lot more than I’ve ever seen, and a knot turns in my stomach.

  “Where did this come from?” I whisper.

  Wesley appears beside me, shaking his head. “Maybe you should go back to your room, yeah? Before you cause more problems.”

  His body stiffens when Milo enters the room, his eyes jumping between us. “What’s the verdict?” he asks, looking to Wesley.

  “Twenty K short. We have a couple days, but we’ve exhausted our avenues. We could maybe do ten by the time the deal goes down, but...”

  “Fuck,” Milo growls, picking up a glass from the table and launching it across the room. It splinters into a thousand pieces. Wesley’s girlfriend and I both cower from the shards spraying across the space between us.