A Lil' Less Hopeless Read online

  A Lil' Less Hopeless

  Book Three

  The Kingsmen MC

  TARA OAKES

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  First edition. December 3, 2014

  Copyright c. 2014 Tara Oakes

  Written by Tara Oakes

  Published by Smashwords

  Book Cover: Image by Tatiana Vila, www.viladesign.net

  TO MY LAMBCHOP, MY LOVE

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook 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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  It’s thank you time again! Yay! I have such a hard time writing out my acknowledgments. In some ways, it’s harder than writing the book. Simple words are sometimes not enough to express the thanks and gratitude I have to all of you that have helped turn simple ideas, into the book you are about to read.

  To my editor, Laura Classi, thanks once again for all the red pen love. Whether it’s dealing with last minute deadlines, sharing puppy advice or sending dozens of photo messages of edited pages back and forth... you came through like a champ. Now if only I can keep my past and present tense in check, we’d be golden and we’d save a hell of a lot of red ink.

  To Desire’, my personal assistant, thank you so much for keeping me on my toes and putting up with all my forgetfulness and late night bimbo-ness. And thank god she can decipher my crazy, error filled speed typing.

  Thanks to both Claire and Alicia, my international chicas for all of their support and tech savviness. To all of the girls in my street team, the trollops.... thanks so much for being such an active and wonderful group to come to. I don’t get to stop by as much as I used to, but it always brightens my day when I do.

  Thanks to CBB for all of your help and support. You are the teaser queen! We bow down to you.

  To all of the blogs that support everything from my cover reveals, takeover events, book releases and everything in between... thanks so much, guys. Indies and blogs go hand in hand. We both love books, whether we are writing them or supporting them, it’s a beautifully interdependent relationship.

  Thanks to Tatiana for another great cover.

  Thanks to all of the readers for your unending support. I love the feedback, and hope I’ve given you all the conclusion to Jay and Lil’s tale, that you’ve been wanting.

  And finally.... to my Lambchop. Happily ever after doesn’t just happen in romance novels. It happens in real life, too. There are chapters, and cliff hangers... high points, and lows. Our story is still being written, but it’s more epic than any I could even attempt to put into words.

  BIKER FRIENDLY REFERENCE

  The life of a biker, although foreign to most of us, is a very intriguing subculture with its own laws, rules, language, and traditions. Hopefully this reference will help the rest of us get to know a bit more about them before we take a peek into the lives of Lil's and Jay, two people born and raised in the secret world of the M.C., full of passion, loyalty, fierce family bonds and... danger.

  TERMS

  1%er -

  The small population of biker clubs that consider themselves outside the law. They often run operations in gambling, guns, prostitution, smuggling, paid protection, drugs, and more. They are considered to be the baddest of the bad, and the roughest of the rough.

  Brother -

  Club members within the same club refer to each other as “Brother.” They have made a vow to protect and take care of each other as family.

  Cage—

  An automobile, usually a van.

  Church –

  A club meeting to be attended by patched brothers only. Most clubs run as a democracy and important matters are voted on during meetings.

  Club Mama –

  Women who regularly attend events and interact with the M.C. They may aspire to become an Ol' Lady one day but do not yet have a patch holder. They may spend time with many different bikers within a club but have loyalty to the club first before a man. They are considered to be a little bit more respected than a “Sweet Butt”.

  Cut -

  Refers to the the leather vest worn by most bikers in a club.

  MC—

  Acronym for Motorcycle Club.

  Ol' Lady –

  A term of affection used for the main woman, or wife of a club member. She is given his protection and is considered off limits to any other biker. Women are not considered club members, but rather have associations to the club through their ol' man, or their patch holder.

  Nomad –

  A member of an MC that is currently without a specific charter. They are still considered a brother but they choose not to offer specific allegiance to a designated charter; instead they are loyal to the club organization on the whole.

  Patched in –

  When a prospect completes his initiation period and is voted in to become a full-fledged club member, or “Brother.”

  Patches –

  The cloth patches or embroidered designs added to bikers’ vests, or cuts, that identify which club they belong to, the location of their specific charter, and their position in it. Other patches can be added to signify milestone events. Example: If the member has ever served prison time for his club, or killed for it.

  Piece –

  A gun.

  Pig -

  A law enforcement officer.

  Prospect –

  Those who desire to become full-fledged patched members must complete an initiation period as a prospect before a final vote is taken as to whether or not they can fully join. Prospects usually are given the worst assignments and must prove their loyalty and worth to the club.

  Rag –

  Another term for a leather vest, or cut, but worn by a woman, given to her by her ol' man to signify that she is his “property” and is off limits. An ol' lady's rag does not usually bear the club name, logo or charter as she is not a club member. It simply states “Property of_____”.

  Sweet Butt –

  A term used to describe a woman who is “used” by members in a club. They are usually welcome at club parties, or “Brother only” parties, but they are never allowed at family events. It is a derogatory term and there is very little respect for these ladies by club members.

  Tat –

  A tattoo. Full-fledged club members, or brothers, often have the club patches permanently tattooed on their bodies to signify they are members even if they’re not wearing their cuts. An ol' lady will usually have a tattoo to honor her ol' man to signify that she is his property even if she is not wearing her rag.

  CHAPTER ONE

  *** IF YOU WOULD BE SO KIND AS TO LEAVE A WRITTEN REVIEW ON AMAZON.COM WITHIN THE FIRST WEEK OF RELEASE, AND EMAIL A LINK FOR THAT REVIEW TO [email protected], YOU WILL BE ENTERED INTO A RAFFLECOPTER RAFFLE FOR A $20 USD AMAZON GIFTCARD.

  LIL'S

  I'm no girlie girl. I was never one to play dress up as a little kid, play house, or fantasize about marrying some handsome prince one day. I swore off pink at a pretty early age and was less concerned with carbs and calories than I was about my tomboy-induced scraped knees as a teen. I've been accused on more than one occasion of having the mouth of a truck driver...well, more like the mouth of a biker. Kind of came with the territory, I guess. It gives some credence to the whole “nature vs. nurture” argument.

  So... sitting and playing with my ring
finger in the stream of sunlight casting through the window, and watching how it sparkles and reflects off of the stone, was just not something I should be doing... you know... with the whole “not being a girly girl” thing. So why was I?

  “Julia!”

  My attention breaks from the shameless display of overt femininity.

  “Huh?”

  Jessica, my college friend, is sitting behind the wheel, looking for some interaction with her passenger. I can't blame her really, it's been a long car ride so far, capping off an even longer day. She was just looking for something to break the silence. It's not her fault I'm not in the mood for conversation.

  I break my mini trance and raise my slightly heavier left hand to knead at my neck, tending to the stiffness setting in from the two-hour-long car drive.

  Jess looks over, glancing back and forth between the twenty or so motorcycles riding in uniformed precision ahead of us, and then at me.

  “You ok, Jules? You need me to pull over or something?”

  No one ever tells you that the moment you disclose the fact that you are pregnant to someone... they start to treat you like a wounded kitten.

  “Jess. I'm fine. I was fine the last two times you asked, I'm fine now, and I can guarantee you I'll be fine the next time you ask.” I look to her, exasperated. “Don't make me regret telling you.”

  Jess’ eyes roll back toward the windshield. “Alright. Sheesh. It's just been a really hard day. It can take a toll on anyone, especially one who's....”

  “Pregnant?” I offer.

  Jess takes in the description of my situation and ponders it thoughtfully for a moment, the crease lines on her forehead giving her away. “I was going to say knocked up, but sure.”

  We break out in a fit of laughter.

  It feels good to laugh. The pleasant involuntary spasming of my stomach muscles releasing some of the tension that's been storing up for the last two weeks. I can always count on Jess to bring a certain level of humor to things. We were very different, but she seemed to offer a little bit of ying to my yang. Where I took things too seriously at times, Jess was there to offer just a little bit of silliness to ground me.

  “In all honesty though... are you OK, Jules?”

  I sigh deep, slowly exhaling my answer to her. “I'll be fine. I'm just not ready to talk about it.”

  She releases one hand from the steering wheel and covers mine with it, squeezing reassuringly. “OK. But, I'm here when you're ready.”

  I smile at her, thanking her silently for her understanding.

  It was true... I wasn't ready to talk to her about it yet. I had talked endlessly about the whole thing to Jay, Vince, Pop, and even the cops. I wasn't ready to throw another person in the mix. Especially another person I’d have to lie to.

  ******

  The hardest thing about talking to someone about what happened is remembering which version to tell them. Jay and the guys in the club, my dad included... we all know the truth. Everyone else, though, they are fed what they think is the “official” story:

  My friend Em came to Chisolm to visit me. We switched cars for the afternoon so that I could bring hers into the MC's repair shop to look at her “check engine light”. While she was out and about driving my car around town, she was carjacked, taken to an abandoned factory and killed. Rumors had gotten back to my mother, who called the police and gave a tip that I was also taken in the carjacking and was being held against my will at Hyde Park. The police found nothing there, but they were able to track me down at the clubhouse the next day where I was mourning my friend.

  The truth, though? That was a lot uglier and a hell of a lot more painful to tell. Em had actually come into town to surprise T.J. She had gotten lost on some of the back roads and managed to find herself in Slayers territory. Seeing a bunch of bikers hanging around, she assumed they would know where to find T.J. She couldn't have been more wrong. They kidnapped her, dumped her car in a parking lot where Jay, my then boyfriend (or ‘ol man) and now fiancee, was able to find it a few days later, took her to the old run down plastic factory and called me to make a trade. When I got there, Shade crossed me and his own MC, the Slayers, by having one of his assholes shoot Emily in front of me. I was taken to an old farmhouse and kept, while Shade worked out some sort of deal with Jay and the club that I am certain he had no intention of carrying out.

  Jay and some of the boy's ran an undercover attempt to rescue me, but it got all fucked up when someone jumped the gun and killed Shade, setting off a massive gun fight.

  So far, the two crimes... Emily and Shades murder are unrelated in the news, and as far as we could tell, in the eyes of the cops. But, they've been popping up asking more and more questions lately. Jay wasted no time in getting me lawyered up, so that's been buffering some of the harassment, but Detective Flattery is like a fly on shit. He doesn't seem to stay away for long.

  Not only was I never going tell Jess the truth about what happened to Emily, how it was her unlucky association with me that was the main factor in her murder, but, I wasn't too keen on spewing the cover story to her either. I'd never lied to Jess... I didn't want to start now. Better to just hold off and avoid telling her anything as long as I could.

  Letting her in on the pregnancy secret offered a great way to shift her attentions. Not only that, but it gave me another person to be able to confide in about it. I don't want too many people knowing yet, with it being so early on and everything. Besides Jay, his mom Jean, her ol’ man and Jay’s dad Vince, Charlie and now Jess.. no one else knows yet.

  I won't be able to keep it a secret long, though. My man was in his rightful place, riding his bike in the front of the club with his dad, his president. Here I am, his woman, his ol' lady.... his fiancee, riding in a car following behind them instead of straddling him, and holding on where I should be.

  Jay set down the law a little while back, in keeping with the club's rules. I can't ride with him until after the baby is born, not that I'd want to and take the risk, but there is something about someone else telling you, you can't do something. It just kinda pisses you off, even if you know it's for your own good.

  No one would be asking any questions today, though. No red flags being raised about why I was riding in a cage with Jess instead of with Jay. We were on our way back from Emily's funeral service. The club had come to pay their respect to the young woman who had lost her life when she got tangled up in theirs. I had lost one of my best friends. Truthfully, even though I wouldn't be expected to leave Jess alone for her drive, I just don't even feel like riding right now.

  ******

  There isn't much left of the drive home, rolling into town just as the sun was setting. The long line of bikers driving in the direction of the clubhouse, the loud roaring of their collective engines offering an intense but all-to-familiar rumble to these small-town streets. Once word had gotten out that there had been a carjacking and murder, the town started to get a bit spooked. The Kingsmen had always offered a sense of protection and renegade justice around here. The boys have since stepped up daily patrols of the neighborhoods, increasing their presence to try to quell the fears. Hopefully it was helping. One of the reasons the club has been so successful through the years is that they had the support of the town. I've heard enough chatter around the clubhouse that they were doubling their efforts to make sure to retain that support.

  The group of bikes veers over to the side of Main Street, with several of them breaking rank and backtracking toward us. I twitch my pointer finger visibly for Jessica to follow suit and pull over behind them.

  The roar of a Harley is very specific, each one having it’s own... kind of like a fingerprint. You spend enough time around them, you can pick up on the subtleties. My pulse begins to quicken as I hear Jay's bike close in on us.

  I exit the car and meet him just as he stops, pulling off his helmet and beginning his dismount.

  “Problem, officer?” I tease.

  His eyes roam over me, standing in fr
ont of him, and settle on my chest. My ever-growing chest, that is. I swear, my boobs have grown a damn cup size in the last few weeks. No one could claim I was ever small chested, but damn, I was practically busting out of my tops now.

  Jay licks his lips ever so noticeably as he reaches me, closing the distance between. He wraps one arm around me and pulls me in, using his other to trace his fingertip over the entrance to my ever present cleavage, the shadowed line above my heart.

  “Yeah... I think this qualifies as indecent exposure.” He smirks.

  My eyes widen, and instinctively shoot down to assess the severity of my situation. Ah... it wasn't too bad. Strictly PG 13, all good. He was toying with me. Jerk.

  That's OK. I can play dirty, too.

  “Hmm... well.” I look up into his eyes, soaking them in. I exhale slowly, dramatically. “I'll just have to start covering them up now, won't I?” I smile wickedly to him.

  Some men are ass men, some legs... but Jay? He was all about the boobs. He was happier than a kid in a damn candy store just to get lost in my tits. They're like crack to him. If he could snort them, he would.

  He grumbles deep while grabbing my ass, intensely enough to make me perk up.

  “Not a chance in hell. Those babies are mine now. You keep 'em where I can see 'em.”

  He pushes his lips onto mine before his last word is barely out, not giving me anytime to think of a retort before I am lost in him. Jay isn't necessarily one for exhibitionism, but we are about to come damn close. We haven't been able to spend as much time with each other these last few days with everything that's been going on. His need is strong. I can feel it, sense it in the urgency behind his kiss, the demanding strength his tongue is exerting on mine, compelling it to consent.