Rage: Royal Bastards MC Read online

  “Call Monroe, Gabe,” he wheezes.

  “There’s no time.”

  “Don’t you put those gross brain fingers inside me. Gabe…Gabe…argh, motherfucking cuuunnnttt…” His eyes close as the pain knocks him out. I dig inside, feeling it at my fingertips. “Come on, you bastard.” I grip it with my edge of my fingernails, pulling the fucker until it squelches out of the hole. Blood seeps in its wake. I ball up part of his shirt and push it against the wound. Pulling my cell out of my pocket with the other hand, I call in the doctor.

  I need to move the body before she gets here or Willa sees. Laying Jameson’s cut over the ball of material to hold it in place, I grab Jameson’s feet, drag him to the doorway, lift him under the armpits, and wrangle him as delicately as possible into the truck. Fucker is heavy. His breathing is even, thank fuck. Next to his truck is the black sedan that has been following me. A spark of regret flares inside me. I could have ended that cunt months ago if I’d been more vigilant and caught him. Fuck him. Going back inside, I scrub down my hands in the ice bucket behind the bar and call upstairs.

  “Willa, it’s Gabe. I’m coming up.” She appears at the top of the stairs, a bat in one hand, our son tucked under her other arm. “It’s okay,” I tell her, hating the way she’s trembling. “It’s okay,” I reassure her. “It’s over—for good this time.” I keep my voice calm despite my heart racing. She practically falls into my arms as a soul-shattering cry rips from her chest. The sound will haunt me for the rest of my days on this earth. “You’re safe, I promise.” And I fucking mean it. Nothing will ever break that promise. I guide them out of the back entrance and into Jameson’s truck. “Is he okay?” the boy asks, looking up at me for the first time. An overwhelming heat blooms in my chest. Green eyes the same color as mine peer up at me. It’s like looking at a reflection of a much younger me. “He’ll be fine.” I ruffle his hair, not knowing how to be around him. What am I supposed to do?

  “James.” Willa smiles, her red eyes swollen. “Jameson is who you’re named after. Remember the stories I told you about your daddy and his best friend?”

  “Yeah, you said they were soldiers.”

  “They are.” She sniffles, cupping his face. “They are, baby. This is your daddy.”

  Twiddling his thumbs, the boy looks down at the dirt and kicks at a stone before looking back up at me and saying, “Hi.” It’s simple, so fucking simple, and it makes me the happiest I’ve felt in an age.

  “Hey, buddy,” I manage to get out, desperate to hold him, but knowing this is a fucked-up situation. “Get in the truck with him, Willa. I have one last thing to take care of.”

  I head back inside, coat the place in liquor, light a match, and watch it burn the fuck down with Milo’s dead body inside—a fitting end for the asshole.

  Epilogue

  Willa

  Jameson kicks the ball for James, who chases it across the gravel with some of the other brothers’ kids. It took him three weeks to heal and get back on his bike. Gabe says he has nine lives like a cat. I think he just has a lucky charm. His woman met us halfway from the burned-down bar and rushed to fix him. She’s his guardian angel. I tried to explain everything that happened to Gabe, but he just told me enough time has been wasted on Milo and he didn’t want to lose another second. It’s strange being apart for so long but never losing the intense passion, the fairytale, epic love so many only dream or read about. Gabe is my prince, and although we had to go through immense pain, we ended up right where we belonged. Together.

  Ink, one of Gabe’s brothers, had the police report corrected with the death of Wesley’s girlfriend, Kendra and mine removed. Her family doesn’t need to know she suffered for god knows how long before she was murdered, so they were informed about the accident. At least they have some closure.

  Gabe told me about Gracie, who kept him company and met a tragic fate at the hands of a serial killer. I thought my story was crazy. I know she will haunt Gabe until his dying day and always have a part of him. I can’t change that, and part of me doesn’t want to. It helps a little knowing he had someone in the more challenging times. For me, it’s always only been him. His memory alone kept me from fading into the darkness. Milo had some perverse possession over me, which turned into an obsession. He never touched me in ways he wanted to, but I’d often see him watching me with a longing that should never exist in your sibling. Just having me with him seemed to appease him enough not to try anything else. When he went to prison for disturbing the peace, I thought it might lead to him being discovered for who he was, but luck wasn’t on my side. He got ten months and was out in five. I had nothing. Milo didn’t let me work and made us move all over the place every few months. When he went to prison, he warned me he would find me when he got out and to remember my promise. He took a knife to James’ throat while he slept to prove his point, putting me in my place.

  I turned to Mr. Right for a handout. It was a miracle he still owned that apartment. He gave me cash and told me I could work at a bar he was waiting to sell.

  All the pieces were put in place to lead me back home to Gabe. People who don’t believe in fate should know our story.

  We’re soulmates—the happily ever after.

  Epilogue

  GABE

  James. She named our son after my best friend because she knew Milo would never allow her to use my name. It was her way of being close to me, and I love it. I watch our son race around playing football, my chest expanding with pride and love. Willa’s guilt is something we’re going to have to work on. She still apologizes to me every damn day.

  “Just hold on. The pain will fade, I promise. Then all there will be is new memories, new feelings.” She told me before I took her lips to shut her the hell up. She cried happy tears when I entered her body for the first time in a decade. Then cried with pleasure for the rest of the night. Discovering her body again, the old memories of every beauty spot and curve. Devouring new things, like the tiger strips flaring up from her pelvis up like fireworks in honor of our son she grew there. I want to fill her belly with more babies and her head with happiness and peace. “Dad, come play,” James calls out, and I beam with fucking pride. It took him a week to settle into the new house I bought, paying an extra fifty thousand to get the keys the same week. It needs a little work, but Willa wanted to be able to put her stamp on the place. Drew’s trying to convince her to renew our vows, but I don’t think we need to. Willa has always been my wife, even in death. She lived, bloomed in my fucking chest like she never left. We’re just picking up where we left off. I kick the ball, racing up toward the makeshift goal Jameson made using Idiot’s and Pretty Boy’s bikes. “Goal!” James calls out, running up to me with his arms raised in the air. I scoop him up and do a victory lap. “You going to be a soccer player when you grow up?” I ask him coming to a stop so Jameson can give him a bottle of water.

  “I want to be like you when I grow up—ride your bike.” He points to my motorcycle with a toothy, lopsided grin.

  “I’ll get you your own. The best one there is.” His eyes widen in excitement.

  “Promise?”

  Yeah, I fucking promise.

  “Promise.”

  A text from Copper comes through on my cell. It’s go time. I have one more thing to get done before I can rest fully. Dropping James back on his feet, I kiss his sweaty head and tap him to head toward Jameson, who nods back to me, then walk over to Willa, who looks absolutely fuckable in tight jeans, her natural curls, and her color back to normal. “I’ll be back tonight. Wait here for me, yeah? Then I’ll take you home and cook steak for dinner.”

  Her teeth bite down on her fat bottom lip, teasing me, making my cock jump in my jeans. “If you make dinner, I’ll do dessert,” she purrs like a fucking kitten.

  I need to get this shit done so I can come home and eat dessert.

  Pulling into a roadside diner Copper texted the address to, I cut the engine and go inside. I didn’t expect him to get me the informatio
n I asked for so soon, but he always comes through, and I owe him again. He looks different, rougher than his usual suited and booted self. Right now, he looks like one of us, a brother wearing his cut proudly.

  I slip into the booth he’s occupying and hold up a hand to the waitress, signaling for coffee.

  “You look good.” He grins, giving me the once over.

  “Feel it, brother,” I tell him honestly.

  “Koyn and I were happy to hear about what went down with your woman. After all the shit you went through…”

  “Appreciate that. Did you find anything for me?”

  “I did. A word of warning, this guy is not the top dog, he’s a working mutt. He works for someone you don’t want beef with. This can’t come back on the club.”

  Well, that’s intriguing.

  He pushes the file across the desk. “I can’t let you keep that copy. This can’t be out there, so look it over.”

  The waitress refills his mug and sets one down for me. “I’ll be back to take your food order in a couple minutes.” She smiles, but it’s forced.

  “What brought this on?” Copper asks, tilting his chin to the folder. “Who is he to you?”

  “Someone who needs to go to ground,” I grind out, seeing the picture of the fucker. He’s older and looks like a slimy cunt.

  “Mafia ties?” I look over to Copper, who leans back, an arm over the seat. “And political.”

  “Of course.”

  “I set up what you asked for. The power will be off for ten minutes before the backup generators kick in and the cameras re-boot. He’s ordered a car for six-thirty and is a punctual motherfucker.”

  I slam the folder shut, drop a twenty on the table, and offer my hand for Copper to shake. He’s a good man.

  “You know where I am if you need anything,” I remind him.

  “I will hold you to that.”

  One thing rich pricks like? Being chauffeured around in expensive cars. Copper did me a solid by having the car he ordered pulled over a couple blocks away. I sit outside his building in the service’s stead, waiting for him to appear. The doorman to his building opens the car door for him, and the arrogant fuck slips in like it’s obvious the car is for him. Grinning like a fool behind the dark screen separating us, I take off just as the power for an entire three-mile radius cuts out, killing all cameras so the car can’t be traced. We’re a shadow. He knocks on the screen as I pull into the dock and park behind a shipping container. Jumping out of the car, I open the passenger side, much to Mr. Right’s confusion to the situation. Real name: Mr. Cage. A pensive flicker in his eyes as he take me in.

  I take the seat next to him, and he warns, “I don’t respond to threats.”

  “I’m Willa’s husband,” I tell him, and watch him file through the many names logged in his brain. “I don’t know any Willa.” He waves his hand, as if to dismiss me.

  I pull my knife free and point the tip at his groin. “She remembers you, you sick fuck.”

  “Do you know who I work for?” he threatens, like his words are sharper than my knife.

  “I don’t give a flying fuck who you work for.”

  Luca Leto, some mafia boss in a city fucking oceans away from us. Is he really going to give that much of a shit if this pervert goes missing? I don’t care either way. He hurt my woman when she was a fucking kid. He’s going to die.

  “I helped Willa,” he sputters out.

  “Oh, you remember her now?” I scoff.

  “Because you helped her when she needed it, I’m not going to make this slow,” I offer him that little piece of solace.

  “Wait!” he cries out as I launch sideward, burying my knife into his dick. He wails, and it sates my soul. “I didn’t say it wasn’t going to hurt, though.” I pull the blade out and plunge it into his neck, wiggling it to cut through his voice box. Blood soaks us both, and I sigh as I sit back, watching him gasp for life until he slumps in his expensive car, ridiculous fucking suit, and gallons of his own blood. Opening the door, I hand the keys to Halo, who loads the car into a shipping container. One more demon sent back to hell.

  “You want to go grab a beer?” Halo asks, like I’m not soaked in blood.

  “No,” I grunt. I have a woman and kid to get home to, and if he was honest with himself and Mason about fucking his wife and fathering the kid who’s getting darker with each passing day, he could go home to his kid too.

  Laying in bed naked and sweaty with Willa tracing my tattoos with her finger, I smile knowing I just put another baby inside her.

  “What does this one mean?” She strokes the portrait of her face right over my heart. “Means you own my heart, woman.”

  “When did you get it done?”

  “Not long after the fire.” I frown as the pain I thought was gone picks open an old wound. The thought of her dying will never be okay, even if wasn’t real.

  “I’ve been with you all along. Right here.”

  “You’ll always be in here—and up here.” I tap to my head. “And in about two minutes, back on here.” I flip her on her back, soaking in the sounds of her giggles as I nudge her legs apart and slide into her warm body. “I want to live inside here forever,” I groan, thrusting my hips.

  “Oh, you visit often,” she groans, biting her lip. Swiping two fingers down my face, she pushes them into my mouth to get them nice and wet before gliding them between her legs and caressing her clit.

  “Fuck me, baby.”

  “I am, baby.” She wraps her limbs around me, giving me all of her and taking every fucking part of me.

  She’s here.

  She’s home.

  Everything is right in the fucking world.

  The End.

  (For now)

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to all authors involved in this great series. It’s so much fun to write in a joint world.

  Big thank you as always to the people who make it happen:

  My wonderful editor, Word nerd editing. Monica is always there for me when I’m pushing my luck with time and making sure I write to my best ability to bring my readers the titles they deserve.

  My proof queen AND beautiful friend, Teresa Nicholson, thank you for never letting me down.

  BLOGGERS! My rockstars, thank you for everything you do.

  Enticing Journey for a great service.

  K Webster & Kirsty Moseley my sister’s from different misters. I adore you guys. Thank you for always being my cheerleaders.

  My Hubby and amazing kids who put up with me zoning out when a story consumes me and gives up precious mum time when I need to work stupid hours.

  I love you all.

  Books by Ker Dukey

  Empathy Series:

  Empathy

  Desolate

  Vacant – Novella

  Deadly – Novella

  The Broken Series:

  The Broken

  The Broken Parts of Us

  The Broken Tethers That Bind Us – Novella

  The Broken Forever – Novella

  The Men by Numbers Series:

  Ten

  Six

  Drawn to You Duet:

  Drawn to You

  Lines Drawn

  Standalone Novels:

  My Soul Keeper

  Lost

  I See You

  The Beats in Rift

  Devil

  Dukey’s Dark Delight titles. (Bite sized dark reads)

  Stalk Her

  Muse

  Heart Thief

  Royal Bastards MC series.

  Animal

  Rage

  Co-Written with D. Sidebottom

  The Deception Series:

  FaCade

  Cadence

  Beneath Innocence – Novella

  The Lilith’s Army MC Series:

  Taking Avery

  Finding Rhiannon

  Coming Home TBA

  Co-Written with K Webster

  The Pretty Little Dolls Series:

/>   Pretty Stolen Dolls

  Pretty Lost Dolls

  Pretty New Doll

  Pretty Broken Dolls

  The V Games Series:

  Vlad

  Ven

  Vas

  KKinky Reads Collection:

  Share Me

  Choke Me

  Daddy Me

  Watch Me

  Hurt Me

  Play Me

  Joint Series

  Four Fathers Series:

  Blackstone by J.D. Hollyfield

  Kingston by Dani René

  Pearson by K Webster

  Wheeler by Ker Dukey

  Four Sons Series:

  Nixon by Ker Dukey

  Hayden by J.D Hollyfield

  Brock by Dani René

  Camden by K Webster

  The Elite Seven Series:

  Lust – Ker Dukey

  Pride – J.D. Hollyfield

  Wrath – Claire C. Riley

  Envy – M.N.Forgy

  Gluttony – K Webster

  Sloth – Giana Darling

  Greed – Ker Dukey & K Webster

  Titles found here:

  Amazon

 

 

  Ker Dukey, Rage: Royal Bastards MC

 

 

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