Wayward Beginning (Wayward Saints MC Book 3)

The Wayward Saints, MC

Book Three

K. Renee

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Epilogue

Sneak Peek: Wayward Son

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Copyright

Wayward Beginning

© 2015 K. Renee

Published by K. Renee

1
st
Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

Published: K. Renee - 2015

[email protected]

Cover Design: KLa Boutique

Formatting: K. Renee

Cover Models:

Front Cover: Stephen Hughes-Landers

©
Kruse Images & Photography: Models & Boudoir

Back Cover: © Dollar Photo Club

Inside Photos:
© Depositphotos

Editor: Kim Young

ISBN-13: 978-1508552703 

ISBN-10: 1508552703 

Dedication

To my amazing street team!

Thank you for always standing behind me and promoting my books. Without you, I wouldn’t be doing what I love.

Prologue

Growing up in a motorcycle club probably wasn’t the best way to be raised, but my parents did what they could. A few years before I was born, my old man and a few of his buddies started the Wayward Saints. They wanted a place they could hang out with their friends, party, and have an extended family.

They always had each other's backs. Their brotherhood was admirable, which was why I joined when I turned eighteen. My mom didn't really want me to follow in my dad's footsteps, and part of me understood that. She thought the club would change me, like it did my old man, so she begged me not to join.

However, joining the club was one of the best days of my life. I prospected for a year, which was hell. I had to do everything the members didn't want to do. I hated doing laundry, cooking, running errands, cleaning up shit, and being their bitch but I sucked it up and continued to do as I was told with no complaints. 

The day I was finally patched in was awesome. There was a huge party and more pussy than I knew what to do with. I think
this
was really the reason my mom didn't want me in the club. The day I was born, she had my life planned out for me, which didn’t include joining the club.

The club never had much trouble, but when we did, it was war. Other clubs didn't like the way we ran things so, on numerous occasions, they tried to take us out. My mom begged me to give it up, but I couldn't. This life was in my blood and I hoped that, one day, I would be the one sitting at the head of the table, making decisions.

Little did I know that, in a few short years, I
would
be the one sitting at the head of that table, and making decisions wasn’t as easy as I thought.

Chapter One

The day my old man died from lung cancer was one of the hardest days of my life. I'd never seen my mom so torn up before. When he took his last breath, she was screaming and crying. I tried to soothe her, but she pushed me away.

"Cason, you’re going to turn out just like your father! How can you follow in his footsteps knowing that, one day, you will leave a family behind? If he cared about us at all, he would have given up the club, the whores, and the smoking when I asked him to."

Her sobs could be heard down the hall. It killed me to see the strong woman who raised me becoming bitter and resentful.

After that day, every time I saw her was like going to war. She would tell me how much she hated the club and everything for which it stood. She hated that I slept with club whores, and was always trying to fix me up with her friends' daughters.

Don't get me wrong. Some of the girls were smoking hot, but they weren't cut out for my lifestyle. They would complain when I had to leave, or when they saw another girl look at me. I didn't have time to fight about the small shit. At twenty-two, I still had my whole life ahead of me and a MC to run, so I wasn't looking for a lasting relationship. I just wanted a warm place to stick my dick from time to time.

A year into my presidency, I started Wayward Cycles, which became a place of employment for all the guys who couldn't find work outside the club. They thrived on building and repairing bikes that came through the doors. A year later, we opened up our first bar, Wayward Tavern.

The prospects were great at taking care of the bar, so it left the rest of us to do what we wanted and plenty of money coming into the bank every month.

I never expected to go to the bar one night and meet the girl of my dreams.

Walking into the bar, I scan the room to see if any of my boys are around. I see a few of the guys sitting at a booth in the back, so I make my way over.

Walking by one of the tables, I notice this beautiful brunette sitting there with some douchebag, and it looks like they are arguing. When I am just about to walk past the table, she looks up and our eyes lock. Holy fuck. This girl is hot.

Making it to the table, I shoot the shit with the guys, keeping an eye on the girl the whole time. I watch her get up and try to walk away from him, but he grabs her arm and forces her to sit back down. Typically, I don't get involved, but there is something about her that makes me feel like I have to. I watch her try to shrug his hand off, but he tightens his grip.

Walking over to the table, I can hear their conversation. "Stop, Mike. You’re hurting me. It's over. Please, just deal with it." She tries to jerk her arm away again, but he pulls her body into his.

Closing the distance, I say, "I suggest you let the lady go."

He turns to me and gives me a dirty look. "What are you gonna do about it, asshole?" he says, looking at me like he can take me. He has no idea…

"I'll be your worst fucking nightmare if you don't leave her alone." I smirk. The brunette's eyes meet mine. She looks scared, and part of me wants to be her hero.

"You don't fucking scare me. You have no idea who my parents are,” he huffs out. I just laugh. Is this guy for real?

"Luckily for you, motherfucker, I won't beat the fuck out of you in front of this pretty lady. But this is
my
bar, so you can either get the fuck out, or my boys can take you out. Your choice."

I watch his eyes widen. Some of the guys get up from the table and start to make their way over to us. The whole bar has gone quiet, everyone watching the scene play out before them.

Looking over at the brunette, I ask, "Sweetheart, do you want to go with this asshole, or do you want him to leave you alone?"

Her eyes widen and she takes in the scene around her. Six of my guys are surrounding the table and I can tell that the preppy little bastard is getting nervous.

Shyly, she answers, "I want him to leave me alone." I smile at her and wink, causing a blush to creep across her cheeks.

Looking back at him, I state, "You heard the lady. Get the fuck out of my bar."

Before he starts to walk off, he looks like he wants to say something, but decides against it. When he passes her, I hear him whisper, "You'll regret this."

Without even thinking about it, I move around her and hit the guy in the jaw. As I watch him fall to the ground, my best friend and vice-president, Nick, steps between us.

"Prez…,” he warns.

I turn and come face to face with her. I can tell she’s terrified, but she asks if I'm okay. Grabbing my hand, she checks it for cuts.

That definitely wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.

Typically, women get all freaked out when men fight over them, but not this one.

"What's your name, darlin'?"

Looking up at me, she blushes. "Avelyn." Her smile is like a punch to the gut, and I know I am in trouble.

I miss that girl every day. She helped me through so much and always stood by my side. Hell, even my mom loved her…until she found out she backed me as president of the club.

She lived and breathed the club just like I did.