Love, Loyalty & Mayhem: A Motorcycle Club Romance Anthology Read online

  Prologue

  Dear Readers,

  Thank you for purchasing Love, Loyalty and Mayhem. We are so appreciative for your support. All proceeds from LLMA will be going to Bikers Against Bullies USA.

  Who are they? (From their website)

  We Fight Bullying in Communities Across the Nation

  Who we are: Bikers Against Bullies USA (BAB USA) is a national not-for-profit organization created by bikers to raise awareness and empower the community to fight the terrible effects of bullying on young people through education, community outreach and fundraising.

  Mission Statement: BAB USA is a not-for-profit group created by bikers -- but not limited to bikers -- that is committed to creating awareness and educating both children and adults on the benefits of living in a society of respect for each other combined with self empowerment. We strive to create a society in which our mutual respect will create a new role model for others, and through our actions enable others to have the confidence to emulate this behavior and reiterate its positive message to others.

  Our children deserve to be safe, to be empowered and to live their lives without fear.

  100% of funds raised by BAB USA at any event are be used to fund child-oriented charities.

  https://www.bikersagainstbulliesusa.com/

  Copyright © 2019 by Wicked Words Publishing, LLC — Ryan Michele

  Copyright © 2019 by Amo Jones — Sicko

  Copyright © 2019 by Autumn Jones Lake — Swagger & Sass

  Copyright © 2019 by Avelyn Paige — Voodoo Vows

  Copyright © 2019 by Bink Cummings — The Arrangement

  Copyright © 2019 by Chelsea Camaron — Breathe for It

  Copyright © 2019 by Glenna Maynard — Snow White & The Biker

  Copyright © 2019 by Kristen Hope Mazzola — Unkillable

  Copyright © 2019 by L. Wilder — Gus

  Copyright © 2019 by Laramie Briscoe — At Your Service

  Copyright © 2019 by Laura Kaye — Ride Deep

  Copyright © 2019 by M. Robinson — Creed & Mia

  Copyright © 2019 by MariaLisa deMora — No Man’s Land

  Copyright © 2019 by Mary Martel — Killing Time

  Copyright © 2019 by Nicole Jacquelyn — Mama

  Copyright © 2019 by Nicole James — My Brother’s Old Lady

  Copyright © 2019 by Nina Levine — Heart & Soul

  Copyright © 2019 by Ryan Michele — Bound by Chance

  Copyright © 2019 by Sapphire Knight — Blaze

  Copyright © 2019 by Terri Anne Browning — Prelude to Salvation

  Copyright © 2019 by Winter Travers — Forever Lo

  All Rights Reserved. This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction in whole or in part, without express written permission from every author listed above.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active characters portrayed in this book are eighteen years of age or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence and explicit language offends you.

  This is not meant to be an exact depiction of life in a motorcycle club, but rather a work of fiction meant to entertain.

  1st Edition; July 16, 2019

  Contents

  Prologue

  Sicko by Amo Jones

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Swagger & Sass by Autumn Jones Lake

  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

  Voodoo Vows by Avelyn Paige

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  The Arrangement by Bink Cummings

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Breathe for It by Chelsea Camaron

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Snow White & The Biker by Glenna Maynard

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Unkillable by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Gus by L. Wilder

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  At Your Service by Laramie Briscoe

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Ride Deep by Laura Kaye

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Creed & Mia by M. Robinson

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  No Man’s Land by MariaLisa deMora

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Killing Time by Mary Martel

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Mama by Nicole Jacquelyn

  Chapter 1

  My Brother’s Old Lady by Nicole James

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Heart & Soul by Nina Levine

  Introduction

  A Note from the Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Bound by Chance by Ryan Michele

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Blaze by Sapphire Knight

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

&n
bsp; Prelude to Salvation by Terri Anne Browning

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Forever Lo by Winter Travers

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Acknowledgments

  Sicko by Amo Jones

  Prologue

  He was my foster brother.

  He swore to protect me.

  He failed.

  They all failed.

  I’m an open box of passé photographs, snapped in chaste daylight, but filtered in sepia. I’m the past that he tried to forget, and he was the future I needed. When he left six years ago, I screamed for him every night. But then it all stopped. My screams were suddenly muffled by cruelty, and further coaxed by pain.

  But he has come back. He’s not the cute big brother I had a furtive crush on, or the bad boy, rich brat that I hated to love.

  He’s the ruthless vice president of Wolf Pack MC, and he doesn’t answer to Royce Kane anymore.

  He answers to Sicko.

  1

  They say if you struggle to sleep at night, that someone is thinking of you. Like an anchor, tugging on your soul to keep it in this world, as opposed to losing yourself in (basically), purgatory. Isn’t that what a dream state is? Purgatory for your head and the messed-up shit that happens inside of it? The place your demons meet with your sanity, and they fight about who will win. Will it be your nightmares or the actuality of peace? I like to think of my life as purgatory, where every day I struggle with both sides. The good, the bad, and the demons I can’t get rid of. Unfortunately.

  Sloan, my best-friend of too many years, drops down on the chair opposite me at our favorite coffee shop in the heart of San Francisco, right near The Market. After graduating high school a few weeks ago, it’s safe to say that we’re both hanging on the edge of our seat to start college.

  For Sloan, it’s to get out of San Francisco.

  For me, it’s to escape my house.

  “Are we going out this weekend?” Sloan asks, hiding her beautiful face behind a curtain of red hair. “You know, one last hurrah before we have plenty more hurrahs.” Her logic doesn’t make sense since we already spend a lot of time partying. Sloan was the most popular girl at Edgewood Academy. I did okay, but half of the reason why was because she was my best friend, and the other half, was, well—him.

  “Yes,” I answer quickly. “I need a distraction this weekend.” It’s Friday night, and that’s not the reason why I need a distraction. It’s the date that this Friday is. That today is.

  Her hand comes to mine. “I’m sorry. How long has it been now?” The waiter comes to our table.

  “Six years,” I murmur, my eyes going to the waiter. “Can I get a caramel latte, please.”

  Sloan orders hers before looking back at me. “Shall we change the subject?”

  I nod. “Yes. About this weekend…”

  Sloan starts yapping off about what she wants us to do and how we should go about it. I’m not surprised to hear that Matty, one of our close friends, was having a party. He’s the son of the senator, and a royal pain in my ass at times. We continue through our plans as I sip on two lattes, a bowl of chili fries, and a chocolate cake. When it’s time for both of us to head home, I kiss her goodbye and make my way out to my car.

  I pull my little BMW hatchback up the driveway of my home. Home. The large white pillars hold the old school plantation mansion up delicately. The manicured grass springs up to life and the scatter of vibrant flowers give the otherwise plain style multi-million-dollar property life.

  I sigh, reaching for my handbag and crawling out of my car. I can’t wait to not be here. Here.

  “Jade? Is that you?” Mom asks as I slam the front door closed. I was hoping to slip in discretely, but I’m shit out of luck.

  I drop my bags near the front door, removing my scarf.

  When I amble into the kitchen, I catch mom with wooden spoon in her fragile hand, stirring through a couple of large bowls. Her blonde hair is cut razor sharp and hanging around her jaw. “Will you be home for dinner tonight?”

  “Um.” My eyes fall to my toes. Bright blue nails. I like blue, it reminds me of the ocean. Of tranquility and the sound of angry waves crashing against the acquiescent damp sand. “I guess.”

  The Kanes. I was adopted into this family with open arms. For the most part, it was always okay. Great, actually. They had money. They offered me a warm home and food in my hungry belly. I counted myself lucky. I was well cultured on how adverse some foster children had it. Should we really compare our lives to the unfortunate occurrences of others? Has the human race really hit rock bottom?

  “Great!” Mom interrupts my coiled thoughts, smiling at me. “Because Royce will be home tonight for the weekend.”

  I freeze, my hands stilling over my water bottle. She didn’t just say what you thought she did, Jade. Your brain is in purgatory again. “What?” My tone is loud, the syllables sharp enough to slice whoever says that name again. I shake off my instant thoughts and bring my eyes back to hers. “He’s coming home?!” I swallow long gulps of water to stop from my panic illustrating over my face. No. No. No.

  “It’s his birthday, Jade. I thought you would remember. He’s your brother. Yes, he’s coming home. I’m just” —tears fall down her cheeks— “so happy, Jade. I thought. He was gone.”

  So did I. My brother who left me. He fucking left me. Abandoned me just like everyone else. He was no better. I squash the memories that begin to rise to the surface of my brain. I’m not feeling very nostalgic.

  “I haven’t seen him in so long,” is all I manage to say, unable to process what’s happening right now.

  Mom nods her head, going back to stirring. Cake. Vanilla, no doubt. Royce’s favorite. “I know. It’s been six years, so we want to welcome him home with open arms. God, Jade.” She turns to face me, tears filling her eyes. “I’m so happy that he’s coming home.”

  I want to be happy too, if he wasn’t such a piece of shit for leaving. I was six years old when I was fostered into the Kane family. They took me in as their own, and even Royce pulled me in and treated me like I was his real-life sibling. He was my everything. Being five years older than me, I already looked up to him like a god. He took care of me every single day that I was in this house. When he got his license and Mom bought him his first car—a fucking GTO—I rolled to school with him. He was the most popular guy in school. Every boy worshipped him, and every girl wanted him. I didn’t do either of those things. I just needed him. But he left me. Alone. In this house. I hate him.

  I drag my sad mood back upstairs, wishing I could fast forward this day. Or rewind back to when I was born and just not be born.

  As soon as I reach my bedroom door, I swing it open and fall onto my bed. The feathers inside my blanket curve around my petite body as my long brown hair sprawls out around my head. I’m going to see Royce tonight. I don’t want to see Royce tonight. I wanted him for so long, cried for him every night until the tears stung the corners of my eyes and my lips cracked from dehydration. Now that I know he’s coming home tonight, I don’t want him. I’m angry at him. It’s like all those six years did nothing to ease my anger. Time only bathed it, kept it under control.

  I sigh, pulling out my phone and flicking through my playlist. I hit an old school Guns and Roses song and slip into my bathroom, needing to scrub the day away from my skin.

  Black. It’s my favorite color. Not because it’s slimming—I don’t need to look slimmer. But because it’s the color you can wear when you don’t need to put in any effort at all. Like right now. I don’t want to put in any effort even though mom will no doubt be wearing Prada. Th
e prodigal son returns. I squeeze on a pair of tight black skinny jeans and a black shirt. It’s thin straps cling to my frail collarbones. I always wear makeup. I love everything about makeup and how you can artfully apply it to pull off a different look. But tonight, I only rub on some CC cream and light mascara, piling my long hair into a high ponytail. I just want this over with.