Authors: Hayley Faiman
Tags: #Notorious Devils MC #3
Rough & Rugged
Copyright © 2016 by Hayley Faiman
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Editor - Rosalyn Martin,
The Green Pen
Cover: Cassy Roop,
Pink Ink Designs
Table of Contents
To anyone who has ever fallen for the bad boy with a sweet soul.
Man is born to live and not to prepare to live.
—Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago
he clubhouse is wild tonight. I should be inside fucking a whore, maybe two, but I’m not. Instead, I walk outside and inhale the crisp air. Fall is coming to an end, and soon the snow will be on the ground. We’ll all be forced to drive cages instead of our bikes. I fuckin’ hate winter.
“Those things’ll kill ya,” Torch says, pushing off of the wall and walking toward me.
“Yeah? No shit,” I grunt, taking another drag from my cigarette.
“I gotta go into
, wanna join?” he asks.
The Devils Club is the only strip club in town; our Motorcycle Club owns and runs it. Sniper is the manager, but with a new baby at home, we’ve all pitched in, helping him out until he and the family get settled. I look back at the party behind me, but it doesn’t call to me. I have no desire to fuck any of the whores in there, to watch their shows, or to get shit-faced drunk.
“Sure,” I shrug, following him toward our parked bikes. We don’t say a word as we start our engines and take off down the road.
A few minutes into my ride, I notice I need gas and signal Torch toward the station. He nods, but we’re only a few miles from the club, so he rides on ahead of me. The gas station is isolated, as is usual for this time of night. Our little town rolls up their sidewalks when the sun goes down.
I walk into the station and pay the attendant. His eyes shift from side to side and nervousness is visibly apparent on his face.
“You all right there, bud?” I ask, taking some bills out of my pocket.
“Yes, everything is great,” he stutters. That’s when I know that nothing is
I hear a soft whimper from behind his counter, and I pull my gun out of the back of my waistband. I train it at his head before I order whoever is behind the counter to come out.
A girl stands up, and she’s a slip of a thing. Her hair is light brown and long; her eyes, big and green, stare back at me, wide and innocent. Though, I notice her innocence is overshadowed by the fear on her face, and I wonder what this fat fucker behind the counter has done to her.
“You okay, sweetheart?” I ask before I shift my eyes back over to the fat-fuck.
“No,” she whispers. Her sweet voice washes over me. Fuck, it’s sweet, too.
“What’d he do to you?” I ask, cocking my brow as the fucker starts shaking his head.
“He… he,” she stutters before her big green eyes fill with tears.
“C’mon, let me get you outta here,” I grind out as I hold one hand palm up toward her. She doesn’t hesitate. She crashes her tiny body into my side and buries her face in my shoulder.
“He told me I could use the phone, then he shoved me down and told me I had to suck his dick first. Then you came in,” she whimpers against me.
Instantly, instinctually, I wrap my hand around the back of her head, holding her closer to me, keeping her face against me.
I pull the trigger on the fat-fuck. I watch as his brain explodes against the cigarettes that line the back of the counter
. It’s a shame; all those smokes are ruined now
. I point my gun at the camera and pull the trigger on that too. The girl screams against me.
Quickly, I guide her out of the convenience store before pulling my phone out and making a call to a prospect. They’re going to have to get rid of possible evidence and clean up fat-fuck’s body. Once we reach my bike, I pull her away from me and look down into her frightened green eyes. My dick hardens at the sight of her. Fear fills her features and I fuckin’ love it.
“Get on,” I grind out.
I don’t wait for an answer before I get on my bike. Once I feel her fumble around and her arms slide around my waist, I take off down the road. I don’t have enough gas to go far, so I go back to the clubhouse. Once we pull into the lot, I nod to the prospects that are straddling their bikes to take care of my shit.
I pull the little thing behind me toward the bar, past all the partiers and into the hallway. We walk into my room and I lock the door behind us before I turn to face her.
I blink, looking up at him. I’m not sure how I got into this situation. No, that’s a lie.
I know exactly how it happened
. I got into a fight with Willa and she kicked me out of her car—told me to walk my ass home. She was just mad that Brandon was flirting with me at the party. She’s had a crush on him since we were in kindergarten.
When I walked into the gas station to use the phone, I thought it was the smart thing to do. I was going to call my big brother to come and get me. He was going to be pissed that I was even in Bonners Ferry. I don’t know why we all came up here to party, except that Brandon’s parents had a vacation cabin here.
I was supposed to be spending the night with Willa and she was spending the night with me. I was almost an hour from home.
There was no way I could walk, so I was going to call Andy to get me. He’d give me shit, but he wouldn’t rat me out to mom and dad.
“Who were you gonna call?” the sexy as hell biker asks me.
He’s tall and thin but muscular. I felt his muscles beneath his t-shirt as I held onto him. Abs. Real abs. Not like the boys I go to school with. No, this is a man. He looks rough, rugged, and mean—but sexy as sin all at the same time.
“My brother,” I murmur.
“Yeah?” he asks before slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, handing it to me. I take it from him and look from it to his dark brown eyes.
I don’t hesitate.
“Andy?” I ask when he picks up the phone.
“I need a ride home,” I whisper. He asks me where I am, and when I tell him Bonners Ferry, he starts screaming into the phone.
“Stop shouting,” the stranger says after he takes the phone out of my hand.
“I’ll keep an eye on her until you get here. She’s warm and safe at the
clubhouse,” the stranger says.
I don’t know what it means, Notorious Devils clubhouse. My brother must, because the stranger’s eyes turn black before he speaks.
“You better calm your shit before you get here, partner.” Without listening for my brother’s reply, he ends the call. “Your brother’s a dick, sweetheart.”
“Yeah,” I agree, nodding my head.
a dick, but he’s dependable and reliable and he’ll drive the hour to get me without telling mom and dad. He’ll make sure I pay him back somehow, but his payback is less than our parent’s punishment would be.