Duke: Fallen MC #1

Nicole’s life had never been easy. It was a mess. It doesn’t help that her Father uses her as a bargaining chip in his illegal deals. Now, she finds herself as collateral for the Fallen Motorcycle Club and in more danger than ever before. Will she ever catch a break and finally get the happy ever after she’s always dreamed of?

Duke is the VP for Fallen MC. His life is the club and he likes it that way. His brothers and his bike are all he will ever need. Women come to him easily and he likes variety. He’s got no intention of changing anything until the new collateral, a dark haired beauty, takes up residence in the compound.

Stand-alone read. For ages 18+ Contains violence and sexual content.

Nicole woke, drowsy with her shoulders aching. Her eyes were heavy and her mind was foggy like she had the flu. She was totally disorientated. She recognised the feeling. It wasn’t the first time she woke feeling like this. These numb, achy and bruised sensations marring her body were not alien to her. Nicole knew with certainty that she’d been drugged, the question swirling in her mind was why this time?

Trying to clear her head, she took a deep, cleansing breath only to be assaulted by the smell of smoke and mould in her airway. Well, she could rule out being at home in her rinky dink apartment then. A flash of a program she’d watched recently on the Crime and Investigation channel came to her. She was sure there was a warning about not allowing yourself to be moved to a secondary location or you’d be up shit creek without a paddle. She couldn’t remember if she’d fought or not. Hopefully, she’d managed to at least kick a few asses before whoever had her put her down.

She took stock of her body next. She was sat upright in what felt like a metal chair, her arms restrained behind her back with handcuffs securing her wrists. Her ass ached so she’d obviously been here awhile. Would have killed them to have put a cushion under her? Keeping her mind calm and far away from the encroaching panic as possible, she made sure not to move even though she was desperate to. Part of her brain was pushing at her to scream, thrash and cry with the injustice of it all but she kept reminding herself to play it cool. It would be just another crook, just another deal gone awry, nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. She had to get her mind set right before she revealed her wakefulness.

She longed to lift her arms skyward and do a full body stretch like she did every morning when she got out of bed. Then switch on her ancient TV, snuggle into her threadbare couch with a milky coffee and if she had the opportunity she would casually punch her Dad in the eye. This wasn’t her first rodeo with her Dad’s ‘associates.’ She wished this was the first time she’d found herself this way but she didn’t have that kind of luck. No luck at all if truth be told.

This had been a part of her life, on and off, since the day before her seventh birthday. She remembered walking by herself to school and a large, white truck pulling up beside her. The driver rolled down the window and asked her name. She didn’t answer - the week before Officer Hodds had been in her classroom talking about ‘stranger danger’. The man got out of the truck and she’d tried to run as fast as she could, just like Officer Hodds had told her to, but she only got a few feet away before he grabbed her. She screamed as loud as she could but a sudden pain in her head stopped her and she blacked out. She awoke terrified and crying for her Daddy until her captors silenced her again with a hard slap to the face. After that her tears stayed silent. Fear always came but she never let it turn into fright. Fear made her wary, fright made her rash and unstable. She had no control in this situation so she had to have control of herself.

Nicole forced herself back from her memories to the here and now when she heard a door click open and became aware of heavy shuffling feet and murmurs. She tried distinguishing how many people were with her by listening for different voices and which directions they were coming from. The more she could find out now while they believed her to be unconscious would make it easier to get a handle on the situation when it came to a head. Unable to glean much, she squinted her eyes open trying to see through the base of her lashes. This didn’t help. There was only a dim, single lightbulb hanging above her. It was the only source of light in the entire room and cast everything but herself in shadow. She let her eyes open fully, there was no point in delaying the inevitable anymore.

A large man walked into the light and the room instantly quieted. Nicole wished she could rub her eyes to clear them. Trying to focus, she concentrated on his face to see if she recognised him. She knew whoever he was, he’d be the boss; there was never a second chance at a first impression. It was always the same. The guy who she’d be dealing with would be the first to confront her.

He was certainly imposing just by his sheer height. She looked further up towards his face and her neck cracked. Yep, she’d definitely been here a while. His expression was menacing yet his features had been softened with age. He looked about fifty years old, if he was younger he’d definitely lived a hard life. He had short salt and pepper hair and brown eyes and a thick scar that ran from the corner of his eye diagonally to his neck. It pulled at his skin, distorting his cheek. This was his defining mark and although they’d never met, she knew instantly who he was. He was known as Reaper and he was the President of Fallen MC. Nicole knew instantly she’d have to show strength and respect. Bikers didn’t respond well to weakness, she’d be chewed up and spat out by the club if she gave them a chance.

“Hey bitch, you with us?” He had a gruff voice that sounded like a boom in this silence of the room.

She forced her eyes to properly focus and met his stare. She wasn’t submissive in nature and by holding his look and giving him a respectful reply, she would show that. This way the brothers knew not to try to take advantage of a weak personality suddenly in their midst. She knew her place but wouldn’t be pushed around. Her tongue was so dry it felt stuck to the roof of her mouth. She’d really like a drink before she spoke but that wasn’t going to happen.

Clearing her throat she responded, “Yes sir.” Her voice was scratchy but clear.

His eyes widened as he muttered, “You know who I am?” There was a start of whispered voices in the dark that she couldn’t see.

“Yes sir.” Her confidence was slowly surfacing as her fear loosened its grip. Her mind cast back to her time spent with another MC. She held onto a vain hope that maybe this MC would be different from the last one. At this point in the conversation with Riot MC she’d already been back-handed twice, leaving her lip spilt and the bitter taste of blood in her mouth.

“Good, then you know not to fuck with me. Your dear Daddy is on my shit list. He owes a debt to this club. What that debt consists of is none of your business. You know he’s as slimy as his deals but we’re giving him this one chance. I don’t trust him to pay up without having to send my brothers to hunt his fucking ass down. So, you, Nicole Fletcher, are collateral; a guarantee that the shit for brains pays up. Until then, we own you. Get it?”

It was exactly as she thought. “Yes sir.”

“You do not leave this compound. You do exactly what any brothers with a patch tell you. Add the old ladies into that shit too. You aren’t pussy for the brothers unless you’re into that shit but you are their gopher. Any problems you’ll answer to me or Duke, my VP.” She could hear the very real threat in his tone. There’d been no violence so far, yet his voice assured her that it hadn’t been ruled out.

Her heart rate slowed dramatically hearing him say she wasn’t here to be a club slut. Collateral wasn’t meant to be, but it was good to get it confirmed outright. Honor in deals and handling collateral greatly varied depending on who you were dealing with. No way would she have have allowed that to happen to her anyway. She would have fought tooth and nail and damned the consequences. She’d never been used that way and she had no intention of starting now. She liked sex as much as the next girl but she didn’t put out for just anyone and everyone who came on to her. Her plan up to now was to find her groove within the club and try to blend in best she could.

“This here is, Slam.” A man walked up next to Reaper. He was shorter than Reaper and lean with long blond hair and a rough beard. He had kind, blue eyes and looked approachable as he shot her a wink. She knew appearances could be deceiving and that underneath his charm and easy-going façade, he’d be made of steel, just like the rest of them. You didn’t become a full patched brother in an MC without a taste for violence and mayhem. He bent down and untied her legs.

“He’s gonna show you where you’re staying. One of the brothers’ll come get you in the morning and set you to task.” Thank god she wasn’t staying in this room. It had a definite prison vibe to it. She had no idea of the time but it felt late to her.

Slam circled behind her and unlocked the cuffs. She rubbed her wrists even though the cuffs hadn’t been too tight. She pushed herself up from the chair and staggered to the side. She’d lost feeling in her legs from sitting for so long and from whatever they’d obviously drugged her with.

“Whoa, girly.” Slam steadied her by holding her arm. “Not gonna smash up that pretty face on my watch. You must have really needed a good kip, you’ve been out for nearly twenty hours. I moved you from the chair to the bed, twice. Started me thinking I’d killed you.”

She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. She felt instantly comfortable with Slam. She’d learnt to read people quickly and she could tell that Slam wouldn’t harm her unless she deserved it. She felt relatively safe with him. She quickly glanced around to look for the bed he’d talked about. She spotted it in the corner but still couldn’t really see it. The room had lightened somewhat since Reaper had left the door ajar that he’d exited through, yet it was still far too dark to make out any details.

Dark, moving shapes of more men stood at the opposite side of the room drew her attention and a feeling of apprehension started to engulf her. She’d momentarily forgotten that there were others in there with her. She didn’t like the unknown and really wanted out of here.

Slam kept hold of her as they crossed the room. She still felt weak and was glad to be moving around, getting some movement into her weakened muscles. The door led to a narrow, battered staircase that looked like it would collapse under their combined weight. The plastered walls had scratches and gouges marking them. People had fought and even clawed the walls to try and keep from going into the room she’d just left. She’d seen them sorts of marks before and they weren’t a good thing on any level.

The stairs led to a large hallway with four wooden doors. One had a large picture of a male angel wearing a reaper’s cloak, looking menacing, its wings on fire. It appeared as though someone had burned the design onto the wood. It was beautiful really. She knew this was the Fallen MC emblem that all the brothers would be wearing on the back of their cuts. Slam told her that was where they held Church and that it was strictly off limits. The other doors led to a large kitchen, the bar and to a long corridor that held some of the brothers’ rooms. Hers was one that was usually assigned to visitors that wasn’t being used at the moment. She knew if they had need of it while she was there, she’d be sleeping on the floor somewhere. There was plenty of noise coming from the bar and she was glad they weren’t headed that way, she wasn’t quite ready to face that yet.