My Vice: Fallen Angels MC (Fallen Angels MC Series Book 1) Read online

  My head snaps up at that name. Her eyes plead with me to understand. To not blow the fuck up, like I want to right now. Not to go bat shit fucking crazy.

  I jump up out of the chaise and run my hands over my face.

  “You mean to tell me your father is the goddamn president of the fucking Strykers MC!” I roar.

  “Stop yelling at me right now, Stanton!” she yells back, standing up. She flings her hands to her hips and stands face to face with me. I see a fire in her eyes shining through.

  “You have to understand, Schuy. Your father’s MC is a fucking rival of my Angels.” I blow out a breath. I have to calm myself down. It’s not her fault who fathered her. But, holy shit, if the brotherhood knew this information, who knows what they’d do.

  “Like that’s my fucking fault!” she yells back at me, taking the thoughts out of my head.

  “I know! But, Jesus, Schuy! The Angels are one percenters! We do good in this county. We do good in this state, but we are not fucking pussies. Nor are we saints! We do everything your dad does, minus the drugs! Do you know how fucking mad he is with Chris, our president, because we won’t run drugs, and we won’t let him run drugs?” I run my hands down my face again, trying to figure out what the fuck to say. Can I trust her? Can I tell her anything? Or is she put here by her father to dig into us?

  My heart sinks at that idea. It hurts to even think of it, but it is possible. My gut says it’s not true.

  “Fuck!” I yell into the air.

  “Do you have a laptop?” she asks, her tone bitter and distant.

  “Uh, yeah, why?” I ask dumbfounded. Why the laptop?

  “Bring it to me, and I’ll show you,” she says as she sits down and shakes her head.

  “Show me what exactly what?” I ask again not understanding her.

  “That I’m not with him anymore,” she says, like she knows exactly what I’m thinking again.

  I turn and go inside to my office. I grab my laptop from the desk and rip the cord out. What could she possibly show me to make me think she’s not in with her father anymore?

  Chapter 6

  When I walk back outside, she’s sitting on the chaise with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her arms are wrapped around her knees and she’s resting her chin on her knees.

  I walk over to the chaise and set the laptop down. She leans forward and grabs the computer and blows out a breath as she logs into her email.

  “Here,” she says, sliding the computer over.

  I look at the screen. The email is from the police department in Stroh, Colorado.

  To [email protected]

  From [email protected].

  Subject: Case File 456781F4822

  Miss. Guiler,

  The requested files have been attached to this email. If you have any further questions or comments, please call my desk at 798-555-4679. If you would like to pursue charges on Mr. Lane, alert us at your earliest convenience.

  Thank you, Sgt Addams.

  Stroh PD

  I opened the attachment and the first photo I scroll to. I hiss a breath from between my teeth. Red, boiling hot, roaring rage pumps through my veins.

  In the picture, Schuyler was in a hospital bed, her face swollen beyond recognition. Both eyes swollen shut, a cut to her temple, a split lip and bruising around her throat.

  I keep scrolling because I have to. I need to know what happened to this amazing woman, so when the time comes, when I catch this motherfucker, I can do the exact same thing twice as bad back to him.

  The next few photos are of the same markings on her throat and wrists. Her ankles are the same, swollen as well.

  I would never have been ready to see the last two photos. Never, as long as I live this life and my afterlife, will I be able to get these images out of my head. These will be with me, always.

  They are shots of her hips and thighs with blood trails running down them. Her hips are fingertip bruised, along with random tiny cuts, from hipbone to hipbone. I furrow my brow as I try and figure out what the fuck they are.

  “When I stopped giving him the satisfaction of screaming for him to stop, he would stab my stomach, hips, and chest to hear my cries,” she states emotionless. Again, stealing my thoughts.

  I swallow the bile in my throat and keep scrolling to read the report.

  Victim was drugged to a party at her father’s house, resulting in her passing out, unconscious. Victim then woke up strapped to a table at an unknown location. Evidence shows that she was violated. Miss Gulier states she was raped by Mr. Nathan Lane of 4879 South Columbia Street, Stroh, CO 90845, where victim was found. Miss. Guiler does not wish to press charges. Case will stay open for ninety days from date report was made. After ninety days, a new claim will have to be made if under the statutes of limitation.

  Rape kit report is also attached.

  The undersigned officer states, under penalty of the law, that everything stated above is correct to his or her knowledge.

  I shut the laptop, and place it on the deck. I don’t even bother reading the report from the rape kit. I can’t. The murderous feelings flowing through my veins right now need controlled. Until I can get somewhere to expel some of this anger, I can’t do that to her.

  “So now you know. My father had his VP rape me,” she says.

  “Fuck, Schuy. I don’t even know what to say.” I blow out a breath feeling lame compared to how she must feel. “It’s okay. I get it,” she says, void of emotion.

  “Get what?” I ask, turning to her.

  “I’m damaged. I’m used. I’m literally someone’s sloppy fucking seconds,” she bites out. The fire I love blazed bright in her eyes.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I don’t yell, but my voice is firm. I will spank her ass pink if she’s talking like that about herself.

  “I can see it in your eyes, Vice! The look of disgust! I’ve seen it enough in my life to pinpoint it in others.” Her eyes fill with angry tears.

  “You want to know what I’m thinking?” I growl out while shoving my way into her personal space, making her fall to her back. I see her gulp at my nearness. “I’m thinking I’d love nothing fucking more than to take my knife and gut that motherfucker from here,” I point to the hollow in her neck, “all the way down…” I drag my finger down her torso, “..to here.” My voice grows raspy as I end my trail at the top of her hot heat.

  Her chest is rising and falling at the pace of her rapid breaths. I trail my finger all the way back up her body, stopping at her chin. I tip it up to bring her eyes to mine.

  “As for you being damaged? Used? And sloppy seconds? I will bend you over my fucking knee, and smack that perfect ass until it’s just the right shade of pink, if I ever hear you talk like that about yourself again.” I search her eyes, and notice they have gone dark with desire. “Because from where I’m standing, sweetheart, you’re more than fucking perfect. Your body has my cock hard as a damn rock every time you walk near me. Your eyes make me want to fall to my knees at your mercy. The fire I see blazing within them is nearly my undoing.” I take my thumb and rub it across her lips, “and these lips… I’ve never felt something so soft, so delicious, so perfectly made for me in all my twenty-seven years. You, my sweet Schuyler, are every man’s wet dream, and I’m laying my claim right here, right now. You. Are. Mine. And I will protect you with my life.”

  Her eyes fill up with tears and she blinks rapidly to make them go away.

  “I’m yours,” she repeats, “What about your brotherhood? The Angels won’t be as understanding as you.”

  “Let me worry about them, sweetheart. There are two things my Prez won’t stand for; drug trafficking, and forcing a woman. He ain’t gonna take to kindly to Nathan, I growl out.

  I run my hand over my face again to not show my anger. She’s been through enough to recognize anger when she sees it.

  Her delicate fingers grab my hand and her thumb runs across my knuckles ever so slightly.

  “You h
ave scars,” she murmurs.

  I look down at my knuckles and see the tiny scars all along them.

  “Yeah, I do. Each scar holds a story. Most of ‘em ain’t no good either, sweetheart. I’m not a good man. So, don’t get your ideas twisted. The only difference between my MC and your father’s is that we protect ours. We don’t sell them like slaves. Your daddy has a reputation, and, trust me; it’s not a good one.”

  “Trust me when I say I understand. You have just seen what he does to people who go against him.”

  “Will you tell me the story?” I ask as I push a strand of hair out of her eyes.

  “My dad wants to marry me off to his vice president Nathan in the Stryker’s MC, and I’m not sure it could be the same in yours, but the men are not faithful to their ol’ ladies. So, when my dad informed me he was giving my hand away, I fought it. No way in hell will I spend the rest of my life tied to a man who can’t be faithful to me. Not only that, but Nathan disgusted me. He gets all of his women hooked on heroin. It’s not their choice, either. He forces the drug into their veins, and repeats it, until they are needing him to get the next high. They would literally end up depending on him. So, they would do whatever he asked, whenever he asked. There was no way in hell I was going to put myself in that kind of a situation. Nope. No way. So, I thought I’d just move out of my father’s and he’d take a hint. It wasn’t that easy.” A bitter laugh escapes her. “He showed up at my apartment and told me I didn’t have a choice in the matter, ended up backhanding me. Forced me to leave to go to his clubhouse and talk. My dad has two clubhouses. One is a party house and one is only allowed for higher trusted patch members. Wives are not allowed in unless approved by my father. Same with kids. So anyway, he shoves me into his SUV and we ride to the clubhouse in silence. I never even wiped the blood off of my face from the split lip he gave me. I wanted everyone to see the monster he is.”

  Her eyes are blazing the fire I have grown accustomed to.

  “We pull into the drive and the one house has a party going on. My father pulled me from the backseat and started walking toward the party house. He told me he had some shit to do before he could talk some sense into me. So, he ordered me to go into the party and wait for him. I walked in and go straight to the bar. I ordered a drink to deal with the bullshit I know I’ll have deal with. Not all of his members are bad. Some have no clue, because my dad only tells a trusted few. However, they are one percenters. So, they know they are ruthless.”

  “I thought your father’s VP was Derrek. Who is this Nathan Lane?”

  “Derrek was shot and killed over a year ago. I know Nate had something to do with that, too. My dad kept it hush hush about Nate becoming the new VP. He wanted to use him to keep doing his dirty work. People are less inclined to tell a vice president dirty shit that’s going to get ‘em killed. The rule was, not a word got out to anyone outside of the MC.”

  My arm rested under her head as we lie there. I take my hand and intertwine my fingers with hers, lending her strength. I let her touch ease the anger inside of me, brewing like an uncontrollable storm.

  “I sat there, sipping my drink, and everyone was staring. The Stryker president’s daughter having a drink in their clubhouse with a split, bloody lip. Not one of the motherfuckers came up and asked me what was wrong. What happened? If I was okay.” She grips my shirt but I don’t think she knows it. “So, I climb down from my barstool and go to the restroom. When I come back, there is a new drink waiting for me. At first, I thought it was the bartender’s way of saying he understands, or something, you know. However, what it really was – wasn’t even in the same realm as that. It was loaded with date rape drugs. I was out for eighteen hours. When I came to, I was being kicked in the ribs. A big fucking, fat boot kept smashing into my ribcage.” Her hand goes to her side and I want to murder everything in the world right now, knowing that this perfect woman went through hell.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could take the pain away from you.”

  She looks up at me and I smile back at her.

  “Thank you, Vice.”

  “So, what made you tell me this?” I ask.

  “You know when that prospect came up to you before we left?” she asks, averting her eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, once you told him you were not meeting with the guy asking for you, and then we got on the bike and took off? The guy at the front of the club’s guest doors, walking to his bike; tall, blonde hair,. He has an ugly scar behind his ear going the length of his neck. His eyes hold no emotion, no feeling, no remorse for the actions he’s done. His smile is pure evil, and he has one tooth longer than the others…” She catches herself rambling and the eyes that had gone distant, flick back to mine. “I’m sorry; you wouldn’t know any of that. I’m just a little freaked out he is here. “

  “Mmhmm… a little freaked out?”

  “Okay, a lot freaked out,” she whispers. “Anyway that guy outside of your clubhouse today; that’s him.”

  “What?” I ask to make sure I heard her right.

  “That’s him.” She clears her throat, to sound stronger. “I don’t know why he’s here, or why he wants to see you. I’ve been here over a year without ever making a friend outside of the diner. I have never told my story to anyone. I never have had my father’s last name, so it won’t come up on a background check. He didn’t want me at first, because I was a girl. I couldn’t carry out his name. Then the idea of my mother leaving, and taking me with her, pissed him off. He didn’t like the idea of his property walking out. So, he beat my mom, and now keeps her locked up in his clubhouse. She isn’t allowed to leave without her arm on his. She’s not even allowed to fucking visit with me unless he’s there.” She runs her hand through her hair and then blows out a breath.

  “I don’t know if Nathan is here for me, or for MC business. But I’m 100 percent sure he saw me today. So that’s why I have to leave.” She rushes out.

  “The fuck you do,” I growl out. No way in hell is she leaving without protection. Leaving her life behind again. Leaving me.

  “I have to, Vice. My past is coming, if I want it to or not. Your brotherhood won’t accept me. They won’t overlook the fact of who I am, because you might like me. That won’t be enough. My father is ruthless. He’s cunning. He has no feelings. No morals. I can’t let my past hurt anyone. I care about you; therefore, I care about the Angels. I can’t let it hurt you, or them,” she rambles.

  “Woman, you have no clue who the Angels are, do you?” I ask her.

  “No, but I know who he is. My past can hurt you, Stanton! Don’t you get it!?” she jumps up from the chaise and throws her arms out. Her eyes blazing that fire I hope never leaves.

  "Are you forgetting what a past is, Schuyler? It's what was. What has been. Not what is now. Your past helps pave the road you're on, not what direction it travels. That's entirely up to you. I'm not going to hold it against you, so why hold it against yourself?" I ask.

  "It's not that easy, Vice. What if he comes back? What are you going to do? What if my past comes back for me? There is no stopping that monster. What he wants, he takes. What if he hurts you?" she ends on a whisper.

  I reach out and grab her hand and pull her to me. My thumb brushes away a tear that escapes her beautiful brown eyes. "I swear on my brotherhood, if he tries to take anything from me, or you, I will kill your father, slowly."

  Chapter 7

  His eyes are murderous when he says this. I know he’s serious. My heart is tethering to this man, and if I don’t watch it, he will own me before I realize it.

  I reach my hand out to his neck and pull his mouth to mine. It has been way too long since I felt wanted. Desired.

  His lips crash down on mine and my body instantly melts to his. It’s like my body was made to fit against his.

  I take my hand and slide it under the front of his shit, and my whole body shudders when I feel the rippling of his abs. His arms circle around to my backside and he grips m
y ass and brings me even closer to him. I gasp at the contact and his tongue sweeps in and takes control of mine. I let loose a tiny moan and circle my hips against his. I want him so bad it hurts. The months of subtle flirting in my diner has led to this. I can’t wait any longer, and if that makes me a hussy, then so what.

  “Please,” I murmur between kisses.

  “You are mine, Schuyler. And if you want to take this to the next level, then I’m warning you. You will belong to only me. My patch. No running. You stay here. Stand your ground. Let me protect you,” he growls.

  My heart cries for the protection he’s offering. For once, someone wants to protect me, for me. Not because of what my family is or has to offer. I’ve had bodyguards by whole life, but not like this. Not because of this.

  “Yours. Only yours,” I confirm.

  “What you just showed me, if you don’t want me to touch you right now, I’ll stop. Just say the word, Schuyler.” His raspy voice coats my skin in goosebumps.

  “No, Vice, you’re not him. I need your touch. I need it,” I plead with my eyes.

  “Thank fuck.” He flips me on the chaise to where my back is to his front. One of his arms is wrapped around my waist, and the other is on my thigh. “You sure, sweetheart? If I’m too rough, tell me.” His gravelly voice is next to my ear and my thighs clench at the heat of it.

  “Never too rough,” I pant out.

  His arm travels up my thigh, reaching the band of my pants. He slips his hand under my shirt and as his hand travels north as he takes my shirt with it. Once he gets to my throat, he stops and kisses it.

  He takes my shirt up over my head and leaves it on my shoulders, keeping my arms restrained. He runs his nose along my neck and gooseflesh ripple across my body. His hand comes across to my bra and unclasps the front of it and my more than handful size breasts spring free.

  “You’re fucking perfect,” he rasps as he grabs a handful.

  I rest my head back against his shoulder as I grind my ass into his hips.

  “So needy. I like that about you.” His hand pinches my nipple hard before it travels down my torso, causing me to whimper.