Fury’s Promise_A Motorcycle Club Romance_The Devil’s Kin MC Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

  Fury’s Promise: A Motorcycle Club Romance (The Devil’s Kin MC) (The Outlaw’s Oath Book 2) copyright 2017 by Nicole Fox. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

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  Contents

  Fury’s Promise: A Motorcycle Club Romance (The Devil’s Kin MC) (The Outlaw’s Oath Book 2)

  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

  Epilogue

  Books by Nicole Fox

  Ciro’s Promise: A Bad Boy Mob Romance (Santora Mafia) (The Outlaw’s Oath Collection Book 1)

  Made to Riot: A Motorcycle Club Romance (The Ancestors MC) (Beards & Leather Book 5)

  Meant for Sin: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Thunder Riders MC) (Beards and Leather Book 4)

  Born to Ride: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Midnight Hunters MC) (Beards and Leather Book 3)

  Built to Kill: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance (Moretti Family Mafia)

  Ride ‘Til Dawn: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance (Filthy Fools MC)

  The Traitor’s Baby: Reaper’s Hearts MC

  Filthy Nights: Demon Riders MC

  Filthy Sins: Sons of Wolves MC

  Knocked Up by the Killer: A Hitman Baby Romance

  Mailing List

  Fury’s Promise: A Motorcycle Club Romance (The Devil’s Kin MC) (The Outlaw’s Oath Book 2)

  By Nicole Fox

  I vowed to break her or die trying.

  We’re both loners with bloody, shattered pasts.

  She’s trying to escape the pain.

  But the curvy beauty awoke a beast inside me:

  A beast that’s about to put a baby inside her.

  FURY

  Some bad sh!t happened to me when I was a little kid.

  But I don’t talk about my past much anymore.

  All I’ll say is this:

  I damn sure don’t need any women or babies in my life.

  My club, the Devil’s Kin MC, rides hard and fights harder.

  I drink to forget the skeletons in my past.

  And I take a different girl to bed every night.

  That way, I don’t have to feel anything when I kick their a$$es out in the morning.

  But then I met Gloria.

  And everything I thought I knew for sure…

  Turned out to be nothing but dust in the wind.

  GLORIA

  There’s no room in my life for a man like Fury.

  But it doesn’t seem like that’s stopping him.

  I’ve spent years clawing my life back in order…

  Ever since a horrible car crash took my entire family from me.

  It hasn’t been easy, surviving on my own.

  I just put one foot in front of the other.

  Day after day, year after year.

  And then the outlaw Fury rode in like a bat out of hell and messed it all up.

  The tattooed biker showed me the wildest, most dangerous night of my life.

  I should’ve known better than to submit to him.

  But the truth is, I loved it.

  I loved serving him.

  Obeying him.

  I loved the way he pinned me against the wall and growled in my ear,

  “You’re mine now, kitten.”

  But afterwards, I’m left with an unexpected gift, and no one to turn to for help.

  Fury promises he’ll keep me and our baby safe.

  But aren’t promises made to be broken?

  Chapter One

  Fury

  “You’re right, boss, I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it.”

  I stand back as Butcher and the Kid and Jackson Caw pick over the remains of the clubhouse. There’s a spike in my brain. That’s what it feels like, a spike that’s rooting deeper and deeper each second. Our clubhouse, my home … the bastards.

  “Was this the Lady’s Death?” the Kid asks.

  “’Course it was.” Butcher shrugs. “Who the fuck else?” He picks up a shattered frame and holds it up to the Cali sunlight. “This could be anything. The picture of me and you, Fury, when we caught that monster out at the lake. Or a picture of the first president. It could be any damn thing.” He sighs, dropping it into the rubble.

  “Anything,” Jackson agrees. Jackson is the old man, the father figure, so I look to him to see what his instructions’ll be. They should be blood. I don’t see how they can be anything other than blood, the way things are right now. He rubs his hands together. He’s a tall, thin man, not as big as I thought he was when I was a teenager. He’s got a tattoo of a gun on his neck and his hair is silver, combed back. “I don’t know, fellas.”

  “Don’t know what?” Butcher runs his hand through his red hair. He’s a big bastard, even taller than me, and as wide as a vending machine. Strange to think he’s the most well-adjusted man in the club. “We need to deal with these Lady’s Death fuckers, boss, or else they’ll just keep coming. What’d they do to us if we burned down their clubhouse, eh? If they even have a clubhouse. Let me gather the men. There ain’t one who won’t want blood for this. I can promise you that.”

  “You have a wife, Abrahams,” Jackson says, turning on him.

  “Yes.” Butcher shifts uncomfortably. Only the boss calls him Andy or Abrahams. “What about it?”

  “And a child?” Jackson walks over the debris and stands opposite him.

  “I have both,” Butcher says.

  “What good would come of going to war—for them, I mean? Why are you so eager?”

  “Jackson,” I say. If Jackson is the only one who calls Butcher by his proper name, then I’m the only one who calls Jackson by his. “He’s loyal to the club. Of course he wants blood for this. Can’t blame him.”

  Butcher glances at me, thankful.

  “I know,” Jackson says, with a heavy sigh. “There should be a war, the sort of war that wrecks this town and ruins all our business. Is that what you want?” He turns to me. I can’t help but see him as he was when I was young, the tall savior, the father I always wished for. “Is that how you feel as well, Jack?”

  “Might be I do.” I shrug. “This club is our family, the way I see it, and when somebody goes after your family you don’t just lie down and take it.”

  “Lie down and take it …” Jackson’s boots crunches over glass and brick dust and shards of charred wood. He looks into my eyes. “Is that what you imagine I want to do?”

  “No, sir.” I stand up straighter, as I did when I w
as a lad and he was teaching me something. “I just …” I look to Butcher for support. He just shrugs. “I just reckon it’s time we taught these bastards who runs this town. This is our corner of Cali, is my reckoning, and if they’re gonna keep pushing and pushing, we’ve gotta make something happen.”

  “And we will,” Jackson says. “But we have to do it intelligently. I didn’t become president of this club by making stupid decisions. I taught you better than that, Wilson. Let’s imagine what would happen if we simply chased them down. All of us. Our entire club. We gathered our troops and we went to war.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Butcher mutters.

  Jackson looks at him, Butcher closes his mouth, and Jackson goes on. “We let our anger drive us to action. We attack en masse. Do you think that’d be a surprise to Big Loco? Do you think he doesn’t want us to do that?”

  “Fuck what he wants, with all due respect.” I roll my shoulders. “All the good memories in my life happened in that building, sir, so again, with all due respect, fuck what Big Loco wants.”

  Jackson claps me on the shoulder. “That’s admirable.” The way he says it, it ain’t a compliment. “But it’s not the smart move. We could chase after him, yes, and we could make this tragedy far, far worse.”

  “So what do we do, boss?” the Kid mutters. He’s shy of twenty with a mop of curly black hair and freckles dotting his cheeks. Recently patched and not taking to the club life as well as he ought to be. Which is why Butcher has taken a personal interest in him, training him up. “Do we just let them get away with it?”

  “No,” Butcher says, narrowing his eyes. “Surely not, boss?”

  “Big Loco is no joke,” Jackson whispers, loud enough for only me to hear. His eyes widen. His nostrils flare. Rage, the kind of rage I know well, is working its way through him. “But I can’t just think about revenge. That way leads to death, gentleman. That’s the way it always leads. We don’t let Big Loco get away with it, but we don’t sleepwalk into his trap, either. We bide our time.”

  “Bide our time.” Butcher sounds stick to the stomach. “So somewhere in Cali, maybe even in New Oak, Big Loco and his boys are having a good old time thinking about the shit cake they’ve given us, wrapped all in a bow, and we just have to eat it.”

  Jackson spins on his heels. He’s a president, a tough bastard. But he moves with grace, too. “Is there a problem?” He somehow makes Butcher small, the way he leans toward him. “I like you, Andy; you’re one of the best enforcers this club has ever seen. But I don’t like men who question my orders.”

  “I’d never do that, boss,” Butcher says uneasily. “You give me an order and it gets done. You know that. But it don’t mean I’ve gotta be happy about it.”

  “What are the orders, Jackson?” I ask.

  He takes several steps back, taking all three of us in. “Wait, for now. Don’t do anything until you get my go-ahead.” With that, he turns and paces to his bike, climbs on, and rides away, kicking up dust and sand and tiny black fragments that used to be the clubhouse.

  “Shit.” Butcher kicks a piece of wood, snapping it in half. “Fuckin’ shit. So what’re we supposed to do, Fury? Just sit here wanking ourselves off while Big Loco tells everyone in the State what he did to us?”

  “He knows what he’s doing,” I say.

  “Does he?” Butcher asks. “Really?”

  “I have to believe that he does. What else am I meant to think? That Jackson Caw has just decided to turn coward? I can’t believe that, Butcher. That ain’t true. He has a plan. And maybe he’s right. Maybe this is exactly what Big Loco wants. So far we’ve been dancin’ around each other. Maybe he wants to push us into a situation we can’t control.”

  “Seems to me he’s already done that.” Butcher nods at the wreckage. “And we’re just gonna let him.”

  “Yeah, well …” I sigh. “I don’t know what to say, Butch. You know he loved this place. He used to talk to me about it all the time when he first picked me up. Took me around back once and pointed to this brick behind the trash cans; smiled at me like it was the fuckin’ first brick of the Statue of Liberty. He built this place up himself with the old president. He ain’t taking this lightly. We can count on that. And anyway, ain’t you got one of those fancy family barbeques tomorrow? The fuck you wanna go to war for?” I try for a smile, but I ain’t feeling it.

  Neither is Butcher. He massages his jaw. “Yeah. But that don’t mean it sits right.”

  “No,” I agree. “That it don’t.”

  “About the barbecue. Sure I can’t twist your arm to come along? Might be what you need after this.”

  “Drinking warm beer with kids running all over the place, your old lady trying to set me up with one of her friends?” I grin at him; he grins back. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

  “I do,” he says. “That’s the problem. What if I make Kaylee promise not to play matchmaker?”

  “I’d prefer to drink alone or go for a ride.”

  Butcher sighs and shrugs. It’s an old argument that he knows he can’t win. “Fair enough. I better get going, then. Lily’s got a piano recital. Might be I can be a good father even if I can’t be a good enforcer.”

  “Yeah, man.” We bump fists. “Get to it.”

  Butchers rides off the same way Jackson went, kicking up more dust.

  “Are—” the Kid hesitates.

  “Spit it out, Kid.”

  “Are you all right, Fury? I know that’s not what you wanted to happen.”

  “You a fuckin’ mind reader?” I snap, feeling guilty almost instantly when he shrinks away from me. “Sorry, Kid. It’s just … yeah, you’re right. This ain’t what I wanted at all.”

  “What’ll you do? Tonight, I mean?”

  “Go someplace normal. Lose myself in the crowd. Get shitfaced.”

  “Want some company?”

  “Nah, Kid. Go and play your videogames or whatever it is you do.”

  He nods—gratefully, it looks like—and goes to his bike. He takes a long time adjusting his helmet and checking the bike before he rides off.

  I walk over the clubhouse one last time, mentally mapping out where my dorm was, the place I spent most of my nights, ’cause this is way more of a home than my apartment. Then I get on my bike and ride into New Oak, toward the Shining Star hotel. New Oak is a tourist town with a pretty high population, so losing myself in the crowd ain’t a hard thing to do. And the Shining Star is the best place to do it: folks are from out of town, so there’s a very small chance of being recognized. Just to be safe, I leave my jacket locked up with my bike and go into the hotel in my T-shirt.

  “A bottle of whisky and a shot glass.” I toss money down on the bar and pull up a stool. It’s a fancy place, chandelier and lamps set in the walls like old-school torches, the kind I remember from knights and ladies movies when I was a kid. Men in suits and women in nice dresses sit all over the place.

  The barman brings me the bottle and I sit there, alone, drinking. I don’t touch the shot glass, just swig from the bottle. This is really something, a momentous event, the sort of thing a man can’t just forget by disappearing into the bottle. How many parties in that place, how many games of cards, how many brawls, how many laughs? Man, the clubhouse, man …

  “You ever think life should just stop for a second?” I’m surprised to hear how drunk I am, my voice not slurred, but heavy with whisky.

  The barman nods shortly. He’s an old fella, pushing sixty-five I’d guess. “All the time, son.”

  “So what do you do?”

  “Just keep on. What else?”

  “Yeah, old man. Just keep on. I reckon you’re right there.”

  Somebody clears their throat behind me. Two distinct, birdlike noises. I turn. Goddamn.

  She’s around twenty-two and tall for a lady, but that don’t make no difference to me, seeing as I’m six and a half feet. Her hair is dark red and spills around her shoulders. She has a light dusting of freckles. She wears
a sparkling green dress the same color as her eyes, hugging her curvy-thin figure.

  “Um, hello,” she says.

  Chapter Two

  Gloria

  This is Alexis’ doing. We were sitting at our table when he walked in: the tallest man I’ve ever laid eyes on with an imposing demeanor to match, sharp features, and a clean-shaven face. He is covered in tattoos, skulls and snakes and spiders from his hands to his neck, and his body is muscled to the extreme. His veins stand out on his forearms as he rests his elbows on his knees, looking at me. I can feel Alexis’ eyes on my back, urging me on. You never have any fun. Let’s make a bet! I bet you won’t talk to that hunk at the bar!

  “Um, hello,” I say, wishing I sounded more confident.

  “Hello, miss.” His voice is deep, growling. And his eyes … bright, piercing blue. Almost like they don’t belong in that serious face. He turns to the barman. “Can you get this lady a drink, old man? What’re you drinking, miss?”