Thrash
JC Emery
Left Break Press
Men with Badges
Marital Bitch
The Switch
The Birthright
Series
Anomaly
Bayonet Scars
Ride
Thrash
Rev
(coming soon)
a Bayonet Scars novel
by
JC Emery
Copyright 2014 by Left Break Press
Smashwords
Edition
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the
right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever.
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Find JC Emery on the
web!
http://www.facebook.com/jcemeryauthor
http://www.goodreads.com/jc_emery
Cover Design by Brenda Gonet at Gonet
Design
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Edited by Rachel Bateman at Metamorphosis
Books
LONELINESS SUFFOCATES THE
HEART. ACCEPTANCE BREAKS DOWN WALLS.
As a Lost Girl to the
Forsaken Motorcycle Club, Nicole Whelan knows how to party. She’s
not cut-out for relationships and her life is way too complicated
for anything more than casual encounters. But one night when she
falls into Duke’s bed at the clubhouse, he sees something in her
that he can’t let go of—no matter how many times she tries to
run.
Having been left to raise
her teenage brother, Jeremy, she’s already got her hands full and
isn’t looking for anymore complications. But Duke’s just watched
his best friend fall for the only girl he couldn’t have, and then
almost lose her so shortly after, shaking him to his core. Faced
with his own loneliness, he’s more determined than ever to break
down Nic’s walls and show her that he can be good for her; but he’s
got a bad track record and she’s got a bad temper. Changing his
ways isn’t easy when he’s not sure what he’s even changing
for.
The violence and turmoil
are at an all-time high, and Forsaken is in a vulnerable place when
a twist of fate breathes new life into the club. It’s a much-needed
beacon of hope for the embattled biker family, even if everyone’s
not exactly on board. With Duke and Nic’s relationship already on
shaky ground, and something even more important at stake, the
Forsaken Motorcycle Club will fight like hell to keep their family
together and whole.
Love is never more
precious than when it’s new.
For
Dawn,
Because nobody else would
let me turn them into a total slut
Prologue
EVERYTHING IS
FUCKED
up.
The
room tilts slightly—or maybe it’s me—and the edges of everything
around me is fuzzy. Maybe I drank too much this time. No, scratch
that, I
know
I
drank too much this time. Being here, with him, should be my first
clue that I fucked up and went too far. I promised myself I
wouldn’t do this, not with him. This is what happens when I drink
too much. I make poor decisions. This time my poor decision has an
all-too-familiar name: Duke.
He’s been trying to fuck me for years
and I’ve always lied through my teeth and let him think that I
wasn’t interested. If he knew about the stupid crush I’ve been
harboring for him after all these years, I wouldn’t have been able
to keep him off of me for this long. He’s persistent, I’ll give him
that.
It doesn’t matter what-- or who-- he’s
doing. Every night we’re both here, we hang out for a while.
Usually, it’s me sitting in silence drinking my beer, and it’s Duke
telling me I should suck his dick-- to which I decline. But he’s
here and it’s a routine I’ve come to appreciate. It’s not much, but
it’s something. And until now, it’s always been enough.
Maybe just for one night I want to let
myself indulge in the fantasy.
He holds my hand in his,
atop his bent knee. I’m leaning into him, an arm on the top of the
bar to hold myself upright, my ass is scooted to the edge of the
barstool. Duke’s blue eyes are bloodshot and hazy. Small lines
appear on the sides from the smile on his face. I try to smile
back, but I probably look like a stroke victim. Everything keeps
tilting. It’s really not fair because it makes it harder to
really
see
him.
He’s all thick neck and goatee and short blond hair and sex. And
I’ve seen him make other Lost Girls come. They scream their brains
out as he fucks them hard. And tonight it’s my turn. Tonight, it’s
like Christmas and I’m about to get a present that is going to make
it hard to walk for the next two days.
I try to focus on the beer bottle as he
brings it to his lips. I can’t quite read the label on the side.
It’s less than a foot away, but everything I look at seems
backwards, but not backwards at the same time. Damn, I’m fucked up.
He tips his head back, and gulps down what’s left in the bottle.
Sitting the empty on the bar, Duke licks the beer off his lips.
It’s almost like he’s teasing me with every part of his body I’ve
fantasized about for so long, but have never given myself the right
to have. I don’t realize I’m biting my lip until it hurts. He
smirks and pulls my lip away from my teeth.
We’ve never been here before. This
close. It’s unnerving.
“
You’ve been a hard one to
catch,” he says. I purse my lips and smile at him. Duke has always
been the kind of guy that people are just naturally drawn to. Ever
since the first time I saw him freshman year of high school, I’ve
had a thing for him. But Duke likes to fuck around and play mind
games and that’s a surefire way to get my heart broken. So, no
thank you.
But right now he’s all muscles and
goatee and smooth talking, and I’m all drunk and relaxed, and up
for anything. So, yes please.
“
Let’s go,” he says,
standing from his position on the stool. He gives my hand a slight
tug, encouraging me to move. I’m not sure it’s such a good idea. I
list myself off the seat and move to step down, but somehow lose my
footing and slip toward the floor. A strong arm catches me on my
way down, pulling me against a mass of warmth wrapped in leather
and jeans.
Holding me up, Duke leads us through
the main room of the Forsaken Motorcycle Club’s clubhouse, and down
a long hallway with doors on both sides. At the very end of the
hall are the double doors to the chapel. I’ve never been in there.
If there’s anything sacred to an outlaw motorcycle club, it’s the
chapel. On the left side is the palace, which I admit with no great
amount of pride, that I’ve danced half naked in a time or two. The
other doors lead to bedrooms which serve as crash pads for club
members, and I know exactly which rooms belongs to which brother.
All Lost Girls know that.
We stop at the third door on the right
which Duke was gifted when he earned his officer patch as
SECRETARY. He reaches out, twists the handle and lets the door
swing open. The room is dimly lit and reeks of body odor, which is
not uncommon. With his hand on my lower back, he encourages me into
the room with a gentle push. I blow out a deep breath and walk in,
shrugging off my reservations.
This is what we do. It’s nothing
really. The club, the girls. We drink, and fuck, and pass out. But
Duke and I have a history, and I told myself I wouldn’t do this—not
with the man who used to be the boy who I once thought hung the
moon. But now I know better. He’ll be all about me for a minute
before he tosses me aside, just like he’s done to every girl who’s
come before me.