Albert: The Perished Riders Mafia Spin-off, page 1
Albert
The Perished Riders MC - Mafia Series
Nicola Jane
Albert: Copyright © 2023 by Nicola Jane. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews. For information, contact the author.
Meet the Team
Cover Designer: Francessca Wingfield, Wingfield Designs
Editor: Rebecca Vazquez, Dark Syde Books
Proofreader: Jackie Ziegler, Dark Syde Books
Formatting: Nicola Miller
Disclaimer:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any similarities are entirely coincidental.
Albert is the second book in the spin-off series from The Perished Riders MC, where he appears throughout their books as an associate of the club. Therefore, it can be read as a standalone.
Books in The Perished Riders series:
Prequel - Riding Home
Maverick
Scar
Grim
Ghost
Dice
Arthur
Albert
Spelling Note:
Please note, this author resides in the United Kingdom and is using British English. Therefore, some words may be viewed as incorrect or spelled incorrectly, however, they are not.
Trigger Warning
The material in this book may be viewed as offensive to some readers, including graphic language, sexual situations, murder, violence, and references to historical sexual assault. (The author does not go into great detail).
Also avoid if you are easily triggered by trivial matters, such as the use of certain words, or how a character behaves.
Contents
Playlist
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
About the Author
Social Media
Also By Nicola Jane
Playlist
Don’t Blame Me – Taylor Swift
Anti-Hero – Taylor Swift
Made You Look – Meghan Trainor
CUFF IT – Beyoncé
You Know I’m No Good – Amy Winehouse
Helium – Sia
Bad Thing – Jesy Nelson
Hold On – Chord Overstreet
You Only Love Me – Rita Ora
Falling – Harry Styles
Stay – Rihanna ft. Mikky Ekko
Feels Like Home – Matt Johnson
Chapter One
ROSEY
The grass crunches under my boots as I make my way through the large cast iron gates. I weave through the eerily quiet church yard until I come to the gravestone, the reason I’m here. I lay the single red rose on the ground. It stands out against the dullness of the stone and almost makes it look pretty along with the twinkling frost.
It’s too cold to sit down today, so I remain standing, staring down at the weeds growing up through the soil.
“I’m sure you haven’t missed me,” I say out loud. There’s no one around, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from years of coming here, no one minds when you talk to the dead. Usually, it’s saved for loved ones, but trust me, he’s not a loved one. Not by anyone, least of all me.
“But, Eagle, I couldn’t miss the opportunity to update you on all the wonderful things you’re missing.” Eagle, the man I’ve hated for most of my life, was the president of The Perished Riders MC when I was younger and my mum was a club whore. Back then, the club liked their whores, and they dripped off the members like gold. But Eagle wasn’t entirely happy with using just my mum. His attention turned to me when I was in my late teenage years. He’d told me I should have been grateful, that having the attention of the club president was an honour. It didn’t feel that way.
“Meli is so happy.” I smile at the thought of my best friend and Eagle’s daughter. “She and Arthur are practically joined. You never see one without the other. She plans on having his kids.” I laugh. “Bet you’re turning in there at the idea of your little princess with a gangster. You’d have had him killed.” I try to kick the dirt under my foot, but it’s solid from the frost.
“Everyone at the club is happy. Mama B is looking after us all. Who would have thought she’d be so kind after everything?” I sigh. “I’m training someone. He seems okay, and it’ll mean I can take a break from . . . my career. I’m going to spend more time with Ollie. He’s getting big now, and he asks a lot of questions. That’s when he’s talking to me because, let’s face it, teenagers hate their parents, right?” My heart twists a little.
“And he hates me. He wants answers, and I don’t want to give them to him. He knows about you, of course he does, but he doesn’t know what really happened.” I groan. “I fucking hate you, Eagle. More than I hate anyone. I sometimes pray you’re not dead, just so I can kill you all over again. I picture creative ways to make you suffer. I thought that’d stop after I ended you.”
“Mum?” I spin around and stare into the eyes of my twelve-year-old son, Ollie. No one knows about these visits except Dice, and especially not Ollie.
“Why are you here?” My question comes out harsher than it should.
“Why are you here?” he counters, arching a cocky brow.
“I’m the one asking questions,” I snap. “You should be in school.”
“Free period,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“We’re not in America, Ollie, you don’t get free periods.”
“Like you’d know,” he scoffs, and my heart twists again. He likes to pull the shit parent card a lot.
“Let’s go. I’ll take you back to school,” I mutter.
“Aren’t we going to discuss this?” he asks, waving his hand around. “Why you’re here, standing over Dad’s grave? I thought you hated him.”
“I do.” I begin to walk away, hoping he’ll follow and change the subject.
“Bullshit,” he snaps, and I spin back to face him.
“Don’t use that kind of language around me,” I hiss. “You’re twelve, it’s not appropriate.”
“I’ll tell you what’s not appropriate, you visiting Dad and not telling me about it. Do you come here a lot?”
I hesitate before shaking my head. “No,” I lie.
“You were talking to him.”
“I was singing,” I snap.
“To Dad?” he asks, smirking.
“To myself. Just stop, Ollie, okay. Stop. You need to be back in school. I’ll drive you.”
We get back to the car, and I pull out onto the main road before he’s had chance to get his seatbelt on. “I would have come with you,” he mutters.
I grip the steering wheel tightly. “How long have you been coming here?” I ask.
“A while.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because,” I mutter, “it would upset Mav and Mama B.”
“Until you all tell me why he’s so hated, I’ll continue to see him.”
I sigh. “No, Ollie, you won’t. I forbid you to.”
He laughs, and I bite my tongue so I don’t say something I can’t take back. “Since when did you forbid me to do anything?”
I glance over at him, frowning. “I forbid you to do a lot of things. Like smoking, drinking, swearing.”
“Mum, you’re raising me in an MC, hardly a place you should want me to be if you don’t want me to do all those things.”
“Christ, are you doing those things?” I ask, realising I have no idea what he does when he’s away from me.
“You’d know if you were around more.”
I drive in through the school gates. “Well, that’s going to happen soon enough. I’m reducing my hours at work so I can be home more.”
He rolls his eyes and gets out of the car. “Go, before my teacher—” It’s too late, his head teacher rushes out the door waving like a crazy witch. “Great,” Ollie mutters.
“If this is about today, he had an appointment, I just forgot to tell you,” I say as she leans into the car through the door Ollie exited.
“Actually, it’s about Ollie’s behaviour. I have tried to call you several times, and you haven’t got back to me.” I wince, remembering the voice messages. I had every intention of getting back to her . . . eventually.
“Right, sorry, I’ve had a lot on at work.” I turn off the engine and get out the car. She closes the passenger door. “Ollie, go to class. We’ll talk tonight,” I add.
Once he’s gone, I smile at Mrs. Ball. She’s an odd-looking lady who dresses like she’s in her eighties, but I have a sneaky suspicion she’s a lot younger. “His behaviour?” I prompt.
“He’s had several detentions, missed more lunchtimes than I care to remember, and he’s not handing in any of his homework.”
I nod. “I’ll talk to him.”
“And then he walked out of his lesson today without an explanation. Quite frankly, I’m sick of hearing his name from his teachers. He shows no respect for the staff or his classmates, and he’s always in some kind of scrape with other boys his age. We’re very concerned.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you’d like me to do?” I ask.
“I think we should work together to understand why he’s behaving this way.”
I sigh. “He’s a typical boy, Mrs. Ball. It’s a stage they go through.”
She smiles awkwardly. “You don’t need to tell me, I’ve been teaching them for almost twenty years.”
“Look, let me speak to him tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow, and we can discuss it.”
She nods stiffly. “Okay, but I should warn you, this is his last chance. So, we’ll need to work together quickly if Ollie wants to remain at this school.”
Mav sits across the main room watching me. I try to ignore him, but eventually, he comes over to where I’m sitting on the couch. “Okay, spill.”
“Huh?” I ask.
“You’re not skipping around, and you haven’t annoyed Dice once since you got back. He even walked past you extra slow to give you a chance. Something’s wrong.”
I contemplate not telling him. He hasn’t exactly taken an active interest in Ollie, even though they’re half-brothers. “Stuff with Ollie,” I mutter.
He takes a seat. “Is he okay?”
“The school’s on my back about his behaviour. He looks at me like he hates me. I’m having a parent guilt fest right now.”
“Have you talked to Mama B?” he suggests.
I frown. “You want me to ask her for advice about her dead husband’s secret love child?”
He smirks. “When you put it like that . . . but seriously, she’s good at that sort of thing. She raised me, didn’t she? And I don’t think she struggles with you both like she did when you first returned.” He’s right, Mama B treats me the same as everyone else here, and she treats Ollie like she does her grandchildren.
“It’s just hard sometimes, yah know. I still feel like a teenager myself most days, and I hate that we’re not close like we used to be. Before I came here, it was just me and him against the world and it worked. Now, I’m lucky if he even looks in my direction.”
“Isn’t that just teenagers for you? They’re all like it. I could speak to him for you, if you like. He doesn’t usually backchat me.” No one talks back to Mav—he’s the club President.
“It’s worth a try.”
ALBERT
I stare wide-eyed at Archer. He’s taking over from Rosey, and she’s been showing him the ropes, but I have to admit, as much as she annoys the hell out of me, I prefer her way over Archer’s. “What?” he asks innocently.
“It’s not a clean kill,” I say like he’s stupid, which right now, I think he is.
“It’s still a kill,” he replies, shrugging.
“Arthur won’t be happy,” I mutter, looking around at the mess in the shop. We’ve been trying hard to pull ranks back on the streets after recently acquiring a new area. It’s been run by street gangs for a long time, so getting on top of the thugs who think they still run those streets is a pain in the arse. It’s a job we passed to Rosey and her sidekick, Archer. “Where is Rosey anyway?”
“Problems with her kid, apparently.”
I shake my head in irritation. This is why we shouldn’t hire people who are not one hundred percent invested. I throw Archer a burner phone. “Call the clean-up and get this sorted. I’ll update Arthur, but he won’t be happy.”
My older brother, Arthur, lives in a newly built house right at back of the MC’s clubhouse. Since he got with the President’s sister, Meli, he’s done everything in his power to make her happy, including moving her closer to her old home.
I spot Rosey outside the clubhouse, sitting on the wall, looking lost. I march over. “Where the fuck were you today?” I snap, bringing her from her daydream. “Archer caused a right mess, blood everywhere.”
She inhales and releases it on a sigh. “I was busy.”
“Busy?” I yell. “You let me down and you don’t even have an excuse ready?”
She jumps off the wall. “I don’t work for you, Albert. And right now, you’re pissing me off,” she snaps. “If Arthur’s got a problem, tell him to put it in writing.”
I grab her arm, pulling her to me. It’s risky given her quick reflexes and short temper, but she doesn’t react. Instead, she crashes against my chest, placing her palms against it and resting her head on her hands. I frown. She’s acting odd. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t be nice,” she whispers. “Whatever you do, don’t be fucking nice. It’ll tip me over the edge.”
I glance around to make sure we’re alone before gently tucking her hair behind her ear. “Anything I can help with?”
She shakes her head. “Nope.” She looks up into my eyes, and I see the sadness that’s usually well hidden. “I should get back inside. I’ve left Mav to talk to Ollie. I couldn’t be in there while Mav had his President head on. It makes me wanna jump in and defend the kid.”
“Ollie’s in trouble?”
She nods. “With school. Mav’s pulling rank.”
“If you’re free later . . .” I begin, but she’s already shaking her head. We’ve hooked up a couple times in secret, a no strings kind of deal, but if I ever try to arrange it, she always turns me down. It’s on Rosey’s terms completely, and I’m okay with that. “Well, the offer’s there. I’ll be at Bertie’s most of the night unless I get called out to help your protege.”
She smiles. “Archer’s not so bad.”
I roll my eyes. “If you don’t mind paying for an extra clean-up team every time he does a job.”
Chapter Two
ROSEY
I tap lightly on Mav’s office door, and he barks, “Come in,” from inside. When I enter, Ollie looks to be in full-on sulk mode, and Mav looks ready to rip his hair out. “Everything okay?” I ask.
“Ollie’s got something to say,” Mav replies, glaring at my son.
“Sorry,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.
“Boy, I know you didn’t just roll your eyes,” Mav roars, making both me and Ollie jump.
He sits straighter. “Mum, I’m sorry for my behaviour. I’ll get it in check,” he says, this time more genuinely. I nod. “Can I go now?” he asks, looking to Mav for direction. Mav also nods, and he wastes no time escaping the office. I sit on the seat he vacated.
“Fuck, is this what I’ve got to look forward to?” Mav asks, flopping back in his chair.
I laugh. “It’ll be worse with Ella. Girls are way worse than boys.”
“Ella is bad enough already and she’s only eight. Can I send her to boarding school?” he jokes. Ella is his stepdaughter, but you wouldn’t know because they’re both so comfortable around one another. She even calls him ‘Dad’. And now, Rylee’s given him a baby boy, Reuben.
“Did he give you a clue as to what’s going on in his life right now?” I ask hopefully.
He shakes his head. “But honestly, I wouldn’t worry. It’s just teenage boys. He’ll grow out of it.”
I shouldn’t take Albert up on his earlier offer. I know as I sign my name in the guest book it’s a bad idea. But Ollie locked himself in his room, and Mama B gave me a lecture on making more time for him. I just felt the need to run, so here I am, standing at the bar of Bertie’s. He refers to it as a prestigious club, but it’s basically a strip bar that men pay a fortune to be a member of.
The barman smiles, recognising me instantly. “Cherry sours, right?” he asks. I smile, nodding. It’s not the sort of drink they stocked here until I asked for it. He hands me the glass and adds, “I’ll put it on Mr. Taylor’s account.”
“Have you seen him?” I ask.
“He was heading for the black room last time I saw. He might have a meeting,” he says. I drop him a text.
Me: I’m here, at your bar, like you requested.
A few minutes pass before he replies.
Albert: I’m in a meeting. Hang around?
