Reckless: The Legacy Begins, page 1
Reckless
A Death Dwellers MC Novel
By Kathryn C. Kelly
ISBN: 978-0692-28091-1
© 2023 Kathryn C. Kelly
© 2023 Wander Aguiar
©2023 Mayhem Cover Creations
This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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 eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Blurb
Being the son of a legend isn’t easy…
And though CJ Caldwell idolizes his father, Outlaw, he’s not sure he’ll ever live up to the Caldwell reputation. Worse, he’s not sure he’ll get the chance. CJ must finish high school and attend college before he will even be considered as a prospect for the Death Dwellers.
There’s only one thing CJ wants more than his father’s approval, the only girl for him, Harley Banks.
But when he asks her to go steady, she shoots him down cold, breaking his heart. Now CJ faces becoming a man, coping with heartache, and saving his cousin, Ryan, from the wrong crowd.
Dedication
Chapter Fifteen is dedicated to Kate. She knows why.
I also dedicate this book to CJ’s fans. Thank you.
Death Dweller Families
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Death Dweller Families
Beginnings – Blood Ties
Act One – Betrayal – Tess
Part One – Growing Pains
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
Act Two – Birth – Patricia
Interlude – The Good Son – Simon
Part Two – Time Flies
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Author’s Note
Playlist
Connect with Kathryn C. Kelly
Bibliography
About Kathryn C. Kelly
Beginnings – Blood Ties
Logan Donovan didn’t give a damn how many corpses he’d leave.
One day, he’d be Heaven and Hell. A harbinger of death or a man of mercy. The Alpha and the Omega. Men would fear him and women would follow him.
Today wasn’t that time.
Today, he sat in Hell—metaphorically—power still elusive.
He swallowed tequila, then wiped his mouth and set the bottle aside, ignoring Cee Cee’s gun to study Sharper Banks while he focused on his theology textbook. Tall and lean, the beautiful man’s skin veered between medium brown to dark, depending on the time he spent in the sun.
Sebastian Caldwell, aka Cee Cee, drew on his cigarette and the cherry glowed bright red. “I need my cock sucked,” he said, flicking ashes onto the broken concrete floor. His startingly green eyes were frightening, his black hair recalling a Devil’s spawn.
Smoke and mustiness hung in the air. Not to mention musk. Cee Cee reeked of sweat, sex, motor oil, weed, and alcohol.
“Maybe, I should have sweet Patricia again.”
Cee Cee’s gun deterred Logan from lunging at the animal. He’d violated Logan’s precious Pattie and she was now four months pregnant with Sebastian Caldwell’s demon. He detested that unborn beast almost as much as he despised its father. “You’ve done enough,” he snapped. “Leave my baby girl alone.”
Cee Cee polished off the rum, then smoked his cigarette again. “You have another bitch. Send her to me.”
While Tess, his other daughter, was more expendable—she wasn’t Pattie—Logan loathed Cee Cee taking the upper hand again. To get Pattie away from Cee Cee, he’d had to send his wife to the man. Elmira hadn’t wanted to go, but, as much as it pained him, he’d beaten her into submission. She was a good woman and had stolen his heart the moment he met her. He cherished Pattie so much because she was almost a carbon copy of her mother with her brown hair and brown eyes.
“Where the fuck are your boys, Logan? If I don’t get a cunt to take the edge off while I’m waiting for my fucking money, I’ll lose my shit. You’ll never have a proper fucking club. You know nothing. You’re supposed to have bitches to keep visitors happy.”
Sharper raised his head and lifted a brow at Cee Cee, who flushed and looked away. Logan met Sharper at Cee Cee’s strip club on his very first visit two years ago. Often, he pondered if Cee Cee and Sharper were lovers. Sharper liked dick as much as pussy. However, Cee Cee loved quim so much he just took it if he wanted to fuck and found no willing females.
Cee Cee threw his used-up cigarette on the floor and stomped it. “Contact me when Patricia goes into labor.”
Logan wanted his girl to abort the lunatic’s monster, but she’d begged to keep it. She’d suffered enough, so Logan capitulated. Pattie giving birth would allow him to take care of the loathsome bastard himself, reclaim the dignity he’d lost when Cee Cee violated his daughter and filled her belly with his devil seed.
“You heard me?” Cee Cee stroked his gun. His .44 Magnum rested next to his almost empty bottle of rum. The barrel pointed toward Logan, by accident or design. But knowing Cee Cee, that fucking gun lay in Logan’s direction on purpose. “If it’s a son, I’ll claim it just as I have all the others.”
“How many children do you have?” Logan asked, curious despite himself.
Cee Cee shrugged. “Eight I’m aware of, but it might be more. Who cares? I can’t worry about the motherfuckers I don’t know.” Picking up the weapon, he offered Logan a half-smile. “I know my kid’s dropping out of Pattie’s pussy because you told me I knocked her up.”
Chilling madness sharpened the planes and angles of Cee Cee’s features. His eyes were cold and flat. The eyes of death.
“Why’d you tell me about her pregnancy again?” Cee Cee rubbed his chin. “Hoping to gain leverage? Wanting me to feel guilty? What, motherfucker? I’m clueless why you informed me I knocked her up. You don’t want my name on the birth certificate. You don’t want the kid, but I draw the line at harming babies and children. If I were you, I’d erase any motherfucking thought of harming my kid. Or else.”
Logan didn’t like ‘or else’. Nor did he want to piss off Cee Cee.
To someday wield the same power in his young club as Cee Cee did as founder and president of the American Scorpions, he needed the man. Logan’s own club, the Death Dwellers, floundered after only a year in existence. He’d turned Sharper’s brainchild into a reality. For all intents and purposes, the MC was Logan’s. On the surface, Sharper wasn’t involved with the club. Couldn’t have a man of God fraternizing with criminals.
“Does it matter why I told you, Cee Cee?”
What a fucking miscalculation he’d made. He regretted not listening to Sharper, who’d warned him not to inform Cee Cee of Pattie’s pregnancy. Logan hadn’t appreciated the likes of Sharper issuing orders. Another mistake. “I didn’t expect your pride over my daughter’s pregnancy.”
“Why the fuck not? My children are my legacy.”
“That’s why you’re so involved in their lives,” Sharper inserted with sarcasm, not bothering to lift his gaze from his textbook.
Slamming his gun on the table, Cee Cee glared at Sharper’s bent head. “Fuck off. I didn’t ask for your fucking input.”
“Tough shit,” Sharper said. “I gave it anyway.”
“Motherfuck you, asshole,” Cee Cee growled.
Sharper snapped the thick book shut. His teeth flashed white against his brown skin, his smile transforming his entire countenance. He transcended beauty to a magnificence Logan couldn’t describe.
No fucking way he’d ever reveal he had fallen in love with…Fuck…Not only with a man, but a Black. Logan hated anyone not his own kind. Sometimes, he hated Sharper for being so well-spoken and fascinating. He hated his brilliance that deviated between spiritual, philosophical, maniacal, and criminal.
“You still haven’t told me you’ll follow my orders, Donovan.”
Motherfucking Cee Cee was getting out of hand.
“My girl isn’t keeping your fucking monster. She’s been th
Shock darkened Cee Cee’s eyes. Satisfaction eased Logan’s stung pride and he swallowed more tequila.
The door to the small building blew open and Joe Foy sauntered in, Kaleb Andrews hot on his heels. Where one went, the other followed. Cee Cee grinned in Joe’s direction. He was tall and muscled, with true blue eyes complementing his golden hair. Logan had made a play for the young gun, but he’d backed off at Joe’s sound rebuff.
Reaching their table, Joe glowered at Cee Cee.
“Hello, Joe,” Cee Cee greeted, the light of insanity surrounding him, like an aura from hell.
Joe nodded, unafraid and unaffected. “Motherfucker.”
Sharper and Kaleb glared at each other, as little love lost between them as between Joe and Cee Cee.
The door opened again, bringing in Wally Bart. Black-haired and pig-eyed, he was one mean motherfucker and had a penchant for Medieval torture methods. If he ever patched in, Logan already had his road name: Rack.
Cee Cee smirked. “If this isn’t a nice little family gathering.”
“Fuck off,” Joe growled, turning to the crudely constructed bar, another source of Logan’s humiliation. The entire situation shamed him. Without family, he never would’ve gotten any members for the club Sharper wanted so badly.
The penniless Death Dwellers consisted of six members, with a metal storage shed for a clubhouse that was set up on overgrown land backing onto the forest for a clubhouse. He’d thought about having their meeting place on his dilapidated farm. Though Cee Cee’s fixation on Pattie came in handy, it also changed Logan’s mind about the location. Besides, having the clubhouse several miles from where he lived allowed him time alone with Sharper.
Joe sipped from a bottle of tequila; Kaleb Paul swigged hot beer; Wally positioned himself on the other side of Joe, the center of the universe, a radiant being amongst lowly men who pulled everyone into his orbit.
If only Logan had been lucky enough to have fathered Joe. Or if he’d taken an interest in Patricia. But at twenty-one or twenty-two, he had a conscience. Pattie was fifteen, a child in Joe’s eyes. Untouchable.
He’d only seen her from afar. If they met formally, Joe would want her. Yet, the kid refused all invitations Logan extended to visit the farm for dinner.
Joe tipped his bottle toward him. Licking his lips, Logan nodded.
Underneath the table, Sharper kicked his shin. Pain streaked up Logan’s leg, the point on Sharper’s Derby shoes an effective weapon. “I told you to stop looking at that motherfucker like the sun rises and shines in him. I think you want to fuck him, too.”
Leaning back, Cee Cee assumed a negligent pose in the uncomfortable wooden chair. “Too?”
Logan wouldn’t tempt fate and confront Cee Cee a second time. Instead, he faced Sharper. “Watch your fucking mouth.”
“Suck my fucking cock.” Sharper grinned. “Or maybe not. Withholding dick is a better punishment.”
Cee Cee’s wild laughter captured Joe, Kaleb, and Wally’s attention. Hot shame roared through Logan.
“As entertaining as you and your suck boy are, Sharper, where the fuck are his motherfuckers with my bitch? I’m here for her. Her pussy is my moneymaker and I think Logan and his boys are fucking me over. Our deal was five bitches. This is the third slut and every time, there’s a fucking problem. At least they arrived. This time…” His voice trailed off and he glared at Logan. “It’s my fucking money who’s fronting this shitty hole you call a club. I lose her, I lose dollars. I also lose fucking face. I already have a buyer for this bitch. I fronted your portion because of your fucking begging, Logan. Now, where the fuck is she?”
Sweat beading his brow, Logan glanced at the door. He’d sent his motherfuckers out hours ago to do a job and they needed to return now before Cee Cee lost his temper. Or overheard anymore damning information.
Resting his forearms on the table, Sharper grunted. “You have a fucking problem on your hands, Donovan.”
Logan glared at Sharper. A kernel of detestation planted in his gut. “Back off, boy,” he growled, still smarting from Sharper’s kick.
“You’re fucking with the wrong motherfucker,” Sharper sneered, hurt quickly morphing into anger. “You back the fuck off before you’re sorry.”
Logan snapped his mouth shut. Sharper, the holy man, was also a killer.
“You disappoint me, Banks.” Cee Cee grinned. “I’ve never known you to tolerate disrespect of this magnitude.”
Logan imagined gouging Cee Cee’s eyes out and wiping away that damnable enjoyment. Joe’s blue gaze caught and held Sharper’s dark one, his thoughts closed off.
The door flew open, and the five members of his club trooped in. Krag, Webster, Pete, Talbot, and Boyce rushed to the table. Blood and mud stained their denim cuts and torn jeans. Scratches marred their faces. Broken fingernails topped dirty hands.
The small, cramped shed couldn’t comfortably house the club’s minute brotherhood and their four guests.
Another nugget of hatred toward Sharper crystallized.
Logan had done all of this for Sharper—become a laughingstock, a weak motherfucker with a stagnant club. The Death Dwellers were just six fuckheads, too unorganized to be taken seriously.
“That whore attacked us. We had to chase her down,” Boyce growled, wiping sweat from his brow. “Left us no choice but to fucking bury her.”
Cee Cee roared to his feet and grabbed his .44. “What?”
Sharper rose too, while Joe, Kaleb, and Wally left their seats. The other four—Krag, Talbot, Webster, and Pete—shoved their hands in their pockets and shifted.
“Prez.” Boyce’s eyes implored Logan. “We didn’t mean—”
The report of the gun halted the words. Blood and brain spattered them, making mincemeat of half of Boyce’s face. His body dropped to the ground.
Krag pissed himself.
Cee Cee’s maniacal laughter rose up. “The rounds I got in the chamber can drop a fucking bear.” His humor dying, he shoved the gun against Logan’s temple. “I shouldn’t have ever trusted a fuckup like you to run bitches.”
“Drop that fucking gun, Cee Cee,” Sharper ordered.
“Fuck you.” Cee Cee’s hand shook. “You have the money to reimburse me for my lost bitch?”
“We’ll get more bitches,” Sharper promised, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone, as if he cared about what happened.
The fucking liar. He didn’t give a fuck about Logan’s well-being.
“That’s not fucking answering my question,” Cee Cee snarled. “I’m not a fucking bank. Defaulting on what you owe me is to your great detriment.”
“Fuck off, you sick motherfucker.” Joe stalked forward, stepping over Boyce’s body, unperturbed by the gore. He threw a wad of cash against Cee Cee’s chest.
Bills fluttered everywhere; Joe smirked.
“Take your fucking money and get the fuck away from me,” Logan ordered, appreciating Joe’s toughness. He’d put his money where his mouth was when no one else would.
Cee Cee dug the barrel deeper into Logan’s skin. “One of these days, I swear to fuck I’ll fuck you up, Joe.”
Joe ignored the impotent anger in Cee Cee’s promise. “Back the fuck away from Logan.”
At the hammer cocking, Logan closed his eyes, willing himself not to piss his pants like Krag.
“Money’s repaid,” Cee Cee started, mad dog furious and almost foaming at the mouth. “Balls still full of cum. Dick need a bitch.”
“Sounds like a fucking you problem, Sebastian,” Kaleb pointed out.
“Who asked you, Kaleb Paul?” Cee Cee questioned.
Dislike twisted Kaleb’s smile. “I’m all for blowing this dirty fuckhead away. But then, you and this motherfucker would still be around,” he said, pointing to Sharper.
“Fuck off.” Somehow, Cee Cee had enough focus to not pull the trigger. “One of these fucking days, you and Joe saving my fucking life won’t be enough for me not to cut your fucking heads off.”
“One of these days, I’ll stop kicking myself in the fucking cock for saving your fucking ass.” Joe reached inside his jacket, pulled a .357 and aimed it at Cee Cee. “Maybe, I’ll remedy my mistake tonight.”
“Your panties still in a twist because I fucked Patricia, Joe?”
