Angel of Darkness (Sinners Blood MC Book 1), page 1
Angel Of Darkness: Sinners Blood MC
D. Elyse
Darkbuggy Publishing
Copyright © 2024 D. Elyse
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or where permitted by law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
ISBN-13: 979-8-89298-650-2
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
AUTHORS NOTE
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Books In This Series
AUTHORS NOTE
Angel of Darkness touches on domestic violence, abuse, and sexual assault. If these are a trigger for you, please proceed with caution.
Thank You!
Prologue
Jessie
5 and a half years ago...
Pregnant.
That’s what this stick is telling me. Two blue lines stare back at me and yet I’m struggling to believe it.
How the fuck could this have happened? I mean I know how it happened. But for God’s sake, why him? The thought brought tears to my eyes as I continued to stare at the pregnancy test.
He’ll never love this baby. He’ll never be the father it deserves. Knowing him he’ll ask for an abortion, and when I refuse, he’ll just beat it out of me instead.
There’s no way I’m letting that happen. I have to run.
I put my hand on my stomach and made a promise. “No matter what little baby, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe. You’ll be loved and cherished. We’ll be okay.”
At least…I hope we will.
Chapter 1
Jessie
“Mommy, are we there yet? My tummy keeps making noises,” Danny grumbles from his booster seat.
We had been on the road for nearly ten hours, only stopping for gas and emergency bathroom breaks. Both tired and hungry, I know we aren’t going to make it much longer without having to pullover for the night.
This isn’t the life I wanted for him. Being only four years old, my son should have a safe place to call home. He should have friends to play with at a daycare he’s at without having to leave it behind six months later. Hell, he should have that fucking dog he’s been wanting but instead we’re having to leave another place, another life, another home behind because of my ex. Again.
Fucking Zeke. I should have walked away long before I did.
A pain in my chest brings tears to my eyes as I look in the rearview mirror at the only good thing that ever came out of that relationship.
My little boy is one of the only things I will never regret. And believe me I have many. I regret listening to the hellish words my demon of a mother told me all my life. She would spew everything she could my way to tear down my self-esteem, to make me feel small and worthless.
Nothing I did was ever good enough for the great Pamela Valetti. It didn’t matter that I was ahead of my grade in school. To her I was wasting my brain on meaningless books and schoolwork because I will never amount to anything. It didn’t matter that I got a job at fifteen when I graduated high school because according to her, I was just going to end up a whore spreading her legs for money.
For the longest time, I never understood why my own mother hated me so much. I did everything I could to please her. After a while I just stopped trying. I stopped hoping I’ll be good enough for her to show me love and affection. I just stopped.
If it weren’t for her name on my birth certificate, you’d never know we were related. Complete opposites. Where her hair was short, blonde so pale it’s nearly white with waves, my hair was down to the center of my back, as black as a raven’s feathers, and completely straight. Where her eyes were a dark chocolate brown, mine are a bright blue-green hazel with small gold and gray flecks in the center. Just like my dad’s. And where my egg donor stood at 5 foot 6, I towered her at 5 foot 9. I was thin with a larger than average rack while she was wider with a small one.
I thought her insecurities would have gotten better when she married my step-shit Luke. I refused to use the words father or dad for him. He never deserved to be called them.
Luke wanted to marry my mom for one thing and one thing only. Me. And eventually he got just that, no matter my non-consent. Disgusting piece of shit.
The day I turned sixteen was probably the second-best day of my life compared to Danny’s birth. I had quit my job at the diner I worked at, packed all my shit that was important to me, bought my neighbor’s 1970 Chevelle SS 454 with most of the money I saved up, slapped my emancipation papers to the Wicked Bitch of the West’s chest, the ones she signed when she was blitzed out of her mind on vodka, and left the only place I knew as home. Not one tear shed over it either.
I didn’t care about sleeping in my car all those nights. I didn’t care I had to work odd jobs to make enough money to go to school, feed myself, and pay for a gym membership just to be able to use their shower. I was free. I was happy.
By the time Zeke came into my life I had accomplished almost everything I wanted by my nineteenth birthday. I was a college graduate, had an apartment of my own, a job as a nurse during the day and bartending at a karaoke bar at night. That one of course was my favorite. Though it was hard work, it was a way to destress from my day. Listening to people singing and having a kickass time was always entertaining.
I would stand there and picture myself with the same confidence these people have on that stage and singing my heart out. My voice carrying out all my trials, my hardships, my pain and soul bared to anyone and everyone who was listening. But I could never do it. My fear of never being good enough and disappointing my dad, the man who taught me to sing and play anything, in his memory kept taking over my want to give in. To sing.
The closest I came to singing on that stage had been when everyone was gone and the bar empty…or so I had thought.
6 and a half years ago…
“Goodnight Jeff,” I say to the owner and cook at Mic Drop Karaoke Bar.
“Don’t stay too late darlin’. I’ll take the bags to the dumpster on my way out.”
I smile at him. “You’re a peach. Now get out of here before Laura gives your meatloaf to the dog for being late.”
He chuckles. “Ha, you got that right darlin’. There ain’t no way I’m sharing that woman’s meatloaf with old Bruce. That old hound can kiss my ass.”
I laugh. “That dog is giving you a run for your money to be the top man in that saint of a woman’s heart, old man.”
“Watch who you callin’ an old man kid,” he says with narrowed eyes and a pointed finger. His mouth fighting a smile.
“Alright, alright. Shoo.” I waved my cleaning rag at him. “I don’t want her mad at me for keeping you any longer and taking away those godly chocolate chip cookies promised to me.”
Jeff leaves, laughing as he shuts the back exit door.
As I was closing up the bar, I realized I didn’t turn the karaoke machine off. Before I knew what I was doing I hit play, grabbed the mic, and began singing the notes to Get It Right by Lea Michele.
I closed my eyes and let the memories of my past fuel my voice as the words sink into my heart. The memories of my dad and his smile. His talent and passion for music. His love for me. The memories of my mom and Luke. Her anger and hatred. His creepiness and defilement. The pain.
I didn’t open my eyes when the song ended. I just stood there until my mind returned to the world around me by someone clapping. I look around to see a man I didn’t know would become my nightmare standing against the bar.
I stared, mute and frozen in place, at a tall blonde man wearing an expensive looking suit, staring right back at me with gray eyes.
Before I could say anything about the bar being closed, he steps forward while clearing his throat.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Miss. I came in to use the restroom really quick after getting my buddies in a cab.”
“O-oh…uh i-it’s fine. I thought I was alone.” I couldn’t help but stutter. I was more shocked I sang in front of someone, though I didn’t know he was there. It’d been years since I’d done that. Not since my father died when I was ten.
“I didn’t mean to stay,” he said.
I shrugged and looked at the floor. “In my free time,” I said as I grabbed the cleaning rag and bucket from the high table next to the stage.
“You got a name of the places you like to perform at? I’d love to catch another tune sometime.” He sat on a stool and leaned back against the bar.
“Oh, you know places like the kitchen, the living room, and the most popular one called the shower. Very upscale place,” I winked. “All patrons need an invitation for entry.”
He chuckled, flashing a charming smile. Little did I know the darkness that sat behind it.
Present day…
We began dating after that night. And everything was going so well, I thought I found my happily ever after.
What a crock of shit.
Chapter 2
Jessie
I made it another two hours of driving before I had to pull over for the night. Danny had fallen asleep just after finishing his chicken nuggets.
I didn’t know where I was, so I pulled over to look up the closest motel. Apparently, there was only one in this town.
Rock Springs. By the looks of things, it’s about as small a town as small towns get. Much smaller than Wichita. When I drive towards Main Street it only verifies how small it is. Everything is within walking distance. From office buildings to clothing stores, it’s all here on this street.
I started getting a feeling in my chest as I looked around the lit-up street. A feeling of familiarity and comfort. But also, strange déjà vu.
I parked in the motel lot, grabbed my bag and a sleeping Danny and walked into the check-in office. After paying and getting the key for the room I heard a loud rumble that reminded me of my dad’s old Harley. I looked around just as three guys on motorcycles pulled into the spaces next to my car.
Danny began to stir in my arms to face where the noise was coming from, causing me to drop the small duffel in my hand. I cursed under my breath and went to pick up the bag while trying to keep him balanced on my hip. I ended up setting him down on his feet. That split second was all it took for him to notice the shiny bikes, and he took off towards them.
“Woah! This is awesome. Mommy look,” he says with excitement as he starts to reach for the bike on the left.
“Daniel Maxwell Valetti,” I raised my voice so he could hear me over his own excitement. His little hands froze as they were about to touch the handlebars.
The bikers turned around and looked directly at my son. The guy on the right, a tall redheaded guy with a goatee, smirked at me as he puffed on his cigarette. “Uh-oh little man. Better listen to your mama. Only big boys are allowed to touch these.”
“But I am a big boy.” Danny stood in a matter-of-fact position with his hands on his hips, and a cute little scowl on his face. I bit my lip and tried to keep myself together and not laugh. For only being four he’s pretty tough and determined for a kid. And he never wasted an opportunity to show that.
My face dropped as I looked at the guy standing in the middle. He was just staring at me, giving me a look I couldn’t decipher.
My attraction to him was immediate. He was tall, easily 6 foot 4. His body perfectly broad and muscular like he was cut and shaped by Greek gods. He had tattoos on his arms and peeking out from under his black t-shirt around his neck. His hair was a gorgeous walnut brown, cut short on the sides and longer on top. But it was his eyes that drew me in. Piercing blue with a haunted darkness behind them looked at me like he was looking into my soul.
I had to rub my thighs together to control the surprise ache in my core and the little pool of wetness in my shorts. I looked away from him back to Danny. These are not the feelings I should be having when my son is 3 feet away from me. Especially not when I’m trying to get my life, our lives, back on track. I need to focus on us and not a hot adonis biker I can picture fucking me into oblivion. Hell, that’s probably his favorite sport.
“What’s your name kid?” the red-haired guy asks Danny, pulling my mind back to the present from my naughty thoughts.
“Mommy says I’m not supposed to give my name to strangers,” Danny says cautiously, taking a small step backwards in my direction.
The third guy, a tall blonde guy with a lip ring, tattoos running down his arms and across his hands, and black framed glasses showing off his green eyes, held out his hand to Danny slowly and calmly. My son stared at it then looked at me until I nodded my okay to introduce himself.
“My name’s Danny,” he says proudly as he shook blonde guy’s hand. He turns to look at me with a smile. “And that’s my mommy,” pointing right at me.
“And what is Mommy’s name?” This coming from the dark-haired god. “Someone with a body like that, it’s got to be something stripperish like Angel or Candy,” he says as his eyes slowly peruse my body.
My jaw drops for a second at his words.
Who the fuck does he think he’s talking to? He doesn’t know me or the shit I’ve had to deal with. And to have the nerve to say something like that in front of my son. In that moment I wanted to do nothing but punch that stupid smirk off his face. Never mind that his voice was deep and smooth like honey, making my heart do a flip in my chest.
Squaring my shoulders and putting on a blank face, I stepped forward. Far enough he can’t touch me, but close enough to smell his cinnamon and sandalwood cologne. Fuck he smelled amazing. It took everything in me not to take a deep inhale.
“Name’s Jessi,” I say coolly. “I like candy sometimes. And sorry, but I don’t see any angels here, do you?” I give a small shrug and cross my arms. His eyes immediately went to my tits, which showed a little cleavage in my V-neck blue t-shirt. He could see the sparrow tattoo peeking out on my right collarbone. I had several more tattoos I’d gotten over the years. Most to cover the scars left by Luke or Zeke.
When his eyes came back up to mine, he gave me a small half smile that showed a dimple on his left cheek.
“You’re right. No angels, just sinners.”
The other guys chuckled. I didn’t understand until Mr. Cocky turned to his bike, and I see the patch on the back of his cut.
Sinners Blood MC.
Chapter 3
Ryder
Who is this woman? And why the fuck does that smart mouth of hers turn me on so much? I had to turn away from her before she could see the wood I was sporting.
I started to get hard the minute I saw her. To say she was pretty was so low on the scale of words I’d use to describe her. She was fucking smokin’ hot. Long dark hair, amazing tanned legs, perfectly plumped pink lips, and eyes that made me think of stars and the ocean all at once. I couldn’t tell if they were blue, green, or gold.
Then I noticed she was standing there with a small kid who was a spitting image of her. I assumed he’d be her son. Couldn’t be more than five years old.
The look on his face when he saw the bikes was so full of wonder and interest. And when he talked, you would have to do a double take from not believing he was so small. The way he talks and acts would make you think he’s a few years older.
“That’s Hawk,” nodding to my best friend. I wish he’d shave that thing off his face. I swear it’s like he’s trying to have that gruff pornstar look.
“And that’s Zeus,” I say while looking at our enforcer. For a guy who looks so intimidating, you’d never know he’s the best guy to call when our MC brothers need a babysitter for their kids. He’s got a soft spot for the rugrats.
“And you?” Jessi stares right at me with a raised eyebrow.
“I can be anyone you want Angel,” I smirk as I say the nickname, enjoying the subtle clench of her jaw. I lean back against my bike as I look over at the kid to see him talking to Zeus. Lowering my voice I say, “Your wet dream if that suits you.” I winked.
She tapped her finger to her chin like she was deep in thought. “Hmmm…nah. I prefer my wet dreams to be orgasmic and satisfying. Not cause me to shrivel up and go dryer than the Sahara with shitty Hugh Hefner styled come ons like that. Sorry there playboy, better luck on someone else.” She shrugged and walked away towards the kid while I was left with my jaw on the floor.
