Knox (Knights Corruption MC Series - Laredo Book 3), page 1
Copyright © 2023 S. Nelson
Editor- Hot Tree Editing
Cover Design – CT Cover Creations
Photographer – Michelle Lancaster
Cover Model – Andrew Murray
Proofreader – Judy’s Proofreading
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Knox/ S. Nelson – 1st edition
For my mom, my biggest cheerleader
CONTENTS
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
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
Next book in the series
Original KCMC series
Stay Informed
Also Available
About the Author
Note to Reader
Acknowledgements
Books by S. Nelson
1
Without fail, the second I opened my eyes, all I thought about was the danger surrounding my club. Prez had been shot multiple times coming out of his house. He survived, albeit barely. It was touch and go for a while, but the hospital finally released him last night, and a few of the guys escorted him to the club’s safe house to recuperate.
Because of his vulnerability, he insisted his wife stay with her sister in Rhode Island until he was back on his feet. She agreed only when he assured her he’d have extra protection while he recuperated—the men taking shifts at the safe house to help watch over him.
We all knew who was behind the attempted hit. There was no doubt in any of our minds. Javier Carrillo. The nephew to Rafael Carrillo, the leader of the Los Zappas cartel. We were ready to strike back the moment we walked out of Salzar’s hospital room but were instructed not to retaliate until we had concrete proof.
But sitting around and waiting wore heavy on me and my brothers. We were becoming irritable and jumpy.
Marek, the president of our California charter, and some of his men were here in Laredo, had been since the shooting, which was five days ago. During our last meeting in Chambers, we were informed Marek was in contact with Rafael and that they were working out the details of a face-to-face meeting. Apparently, he had some sort of history with the guy.
I missed some of the specifics about how they knew each other because all I could think about was the safety of my brothers, my two sisters, and my mother. From what I understood about the cartel, no one was off-limits when it came to retribution.
Our club went into lockdown the day after Salzar was shot, but that ended yesterday with the stipulation we were to be extra diligent whenever we left the confines of our clubhouse, as well as our homes. We were given new phones, all equipped with tracking devices, compliments from Ford and Owen Massey. They were Hawke and Tripp’s cousins, ex-military who ran their own security firm. They’d helped our California brothers end the war with the Savage Reapers.
We weren’t told everything, but I overheard a conversation between our VP, Dax, and Stone—the VP of the Cali charter—about how Marek finagled a guarantee out of Carrillo that his nephew wouldn’t make another move against us for now. I didn’t trust anyone outside our circle, but there wasn’t much I could do about my suspicions that we still weren’t safe.
All thoughts of my club drifted away as the gorgeous woman lying next to me stretched her arms above her head, making the cutest sound. She was the best kind of distraction.
Kyla’s eyes found mine. “Good morning.” She flashed me a smile before rolling onto her side to face me, the slight indentation by her cheekbone deepening. “I thought you weren’t staying over.”
“I changed my mind.” I needed a diversion from everything going on, so I’d texted her last night and asked if I could come over.
As soon as my club went on lockdown, I’d called her to tell her I had to go away on club business and that I didn’t know when I’d be back. Luckily for me, she didn’t ask me a bunch of questions. There were a lot of things about the club I couldn’t tell her, which was for the best. If she found out what we were involved in, she’d run. And I wouldn’t blame her. A better man would cut all ties with her now, if only for her safety.
“I’m happy you did.” Kyla moved on top of me and pressed her lips to mine.
“You ready for round two?” I asked, my dick surging to life.
“Don’t you mean round three?” She rolled back onto her side of the bed. “Either way, it’ll have to wait. I’m gonna be late for work if I don’t hop in the shower.”
Before I could stop her, convince her she should be underneath me for the next twenty minutes, she strolled across the room toward her bathroom. She said something, but all I focused on was the sway of her hips and the glorious sight of her naked ass.
As I got dressed, waiting for Kyla to reemerge, my cell dinged with an incoming message. I was reluctant to read the text, fearful something else bad had happened. But my hesitancy only lasted several seconds before I scanned the four words displayed on my screen.
Evie: Mom needs your help
Me: With what?
Evie: Something wrong with AC
I glanced at the bedside clock. It was 8:15 a.m.
Me: Tell her I’ll be there by 9
Evie: K
Evie was the youngest, having just celebrated her twenty-third birthday two weeks ago. She was the calm one out of my family. Rational. A thinker, contemplating all sides of an issue before deciding what to do. Ria, on the other hand, was spontaneous, usually reacting before thinking. She was more like me in that regard, although I’d calmed down some during my twenty-eight years. “Some” being the operative word.
Ria and Evie were close, not only because they were fifteen months apart, but they were best friends. And while I didn’t have a biological brother—something I pleaded with my parents to give me when I was younger—I had plenty in the club.
I was the closest to Utah, but as of late, he’d been hiding something from me. He wasn’t his usual self these past few months, and whenever I pressed him for information, he’d tell me it was nothing.
He was a bad liar. But I gave him his space. I was here when he needed to talk. Not that he expressed himself all that freely. I knew very little about his past, other than he bounced around foster homes and had been on his own since he was fifteen. He was a man of few words. Intense at times. Ornery even. But every now and again, he’d let loose and relax.
Kyla reentered her bedroom in a towel, flitting around the small space as she gathered her clothes for work.
“Will I see you later?” She dropped her towel to step into her underwear. Next, she clipped her bra behind her back, her eyes on me the entire time. “Hello?” She waved at me to get me to move my attention from her tits to her face. When I still didn’t answer, her question barely registering, she rested her hand on her hip. “Grayson?”
Using my last name did the trick. “I’m not sure yet.”
Her forced smile diminished the hint of disappointment flashing across her face. Truth was, I had no idea what awaited me as soon as I got to the club, and because of the uncertainty lately, I shied away from making permanent plans with Kyla. Not only did I not want to put her in danger simply by being associated with me, but I wasn’t sure whether I wanted anything serious right now.
I liked her. A lot. She was the first woman in years I wanted to spend time with outside the bedroom. But with everything going on in my life, I wasn’t sure how committed I wanted to be. Was that a cop-out? Possibly.
I met her the night she came to the clubhouse ruckus with her friend, which was three and a half months ago. I almost came to blows with Miles because he wouldn’t leave her alone. I knew right away she wasn’t like the rest of the chicks who often came to the clubhouse, women we referred to as wannabes. Her friend Jackie, who had attended countless parties at our club, dragged her there under the premise it was like any other party. What she failed to tell Kyla was that the women were there solely for entertaining the men.
“It’s probably just as well,” she said, fastening the buttons on her pink dress shirt before tucking it into her black pants.
“What do you mean?” I asked, standing several feet from her.
“A few of us were talking about possibly going for a drink after work. Dr. Sanders said he would treat.” A hint of a smile appeared, and for some reason, it bothered me.
“He did, did he?”
I didn’t know anything about her boss or about any of the people she worked with, so why I was uneasy when she mentioned drinks with everyone, I couldn’t say. Maybe I was worried about her safety. Or maybe what I felt was akin to jealousy.
“Yeah. He’s nice like that.” Kyla secured her watch around her wrist and grabbed her purse. “You ready? I have to go.”
I walked behind her down the hallway and toward the front door to her apartment, considering finalizing plans with her later tonight. I wanted to see her again, but I also didn’t want her fraternizing with her boss after work.
After opening her car door, I kissed her before she slid into her seat. We stared at each other for a moment, but I didn’t know her well enough yet to read her expressions, so I didn’t bother to try.
As I headed toward my bike, swinging my leg over the seat and situating myself for the twenty-minute ride to my mom’s house, another text came through.
Utah: We’re up tonight
Two men were posted with Prez at the safe house until he fully recovered. Nash and Renner were there now. Utah and I would be relieving them this evening.
Good thing I didn’t make plans with Kyla after all.
2
“I told Evie it could wait. You didn’t have to rush over, sweetheart. I know you’re busy.”
“I’m never too busy for you, Mom.” She was seated on the couch. I leaned down and kissed her cheek. “What’s wrong with your AC?”
“It stopped blowing cold air yesterday afternoon.”
“And you’re just now telling me?” Irritation traveled through my voice. “It’s supposed to hit 102 today. It’s already warm in here.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” I argued. “But you will be.”
No matter how many times I told her to tell me whenever she needed help with something, she never did. It was usually in passing conversations with either myself or one of my sisters that we found out something was wrong.
Up until three years ago, my mom, Melinda, worked full-time as a veterinarian technician. She was fifty-two and healthy. But everything changed when someone ran a red light and slammed into her, messing up her back so bad, she had to go on permanent disability. She was mobile, but she was slow and often in pain, meaning she couldn’t walk for too long. Although sitting for any extended period was uncomfortable as well. She’d had two back surgeries, but they didn’t do much to relieve her suffering.
Ten minutes into inspecting her AC unit, I figured out the problem easily enough. The capacitor was blown. Lucky for her, I was a handy guy. She survived on a limited income, and I hated to see her waste her money on services I could take care of for her.
I found her in the kitchen cooking scrambled eggs. No doubt they were for me because I couldn’t remember the last time she had anything besides coffee for breakfast.
Taking the spatula out of her hand, I pointed toward the table. “Sit down. I’ll finish these.” She mumbled something under her breath, but I ignored her. “I have to pick up the part for the unit. They’re common, so the store should have them in stock.”
“Is it an easy fix?”
“It’s not bad. Should take me less than an hour to replace.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, honey.”
“Next time, call me when something breaks. I don’t wanna hear it from Evie or Ria.” My gaze held hers until she nodded. I finished the eggs and put the plate in front of her. “Eat these.”
“I was making them for you.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Neither am I,” she countered, narrowing her eyes at me. She was a thin woman by nature, but she’d lost some weight over the past few months.
“Eat.”
“Fine,” she huffed, a trace of a smile kicking up the corners of her mouth.
Taking the seat across from her, I leaned back in my chair as she scarfed down the eggs.
“Your dad used to handle everything around the house.”
“How do you think I know so much?” I smiled at the memory of helping my father with every task he’d allow. Looking back, I was sure I pestered him more than helped, but he never showed me even an ounce of irritation.
“You were his shadow, asking him a million questions, even if he was just changing out a lightbulb. You just had to know how everything worked.” She tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, the look in her eyes revealing she was reliving a special moment in her head.
We shared a smile at the memory of him. He was the best father and the love of my mom’s life.
“I can’t believe it’s coming up on eight years since he…”
“Died,” I finished for her. She never liked to say the word. He didn’t die after a long battle with cancer or from an accident. My father, my mentor, my hero, took his own life.
Matthew Eric Grayson had been a career Marine. He deployed several times during his twenty-four-year career, each for at least nine months. We’d lived all over the world growing up, experiencing different cultures. Some of my favorite places were Berlin, Vienna, and Beijing. I didn’t appreciate it as much when I was younger, but upon reflection, I wouldn’t change a thing. I always felt like an outsider, though, never having set down roots in any one place.
It wasn’t until I joined the Knights Corruption six years ago, at twenty-two, that I felt like I finally belonged somewhere. And it was all due to a chance encounter with Utah.
I first met him when I stopped by The White Cat, one of the club’s restaurants, and two of the bartenders kept complaining about issues with the electrical panel. Something about the refrigerators going out and ruining some of the food. I offered to help, Utah was there, and he bought me a drink as a thank-you.
During our conversation, he brought up the Knights Corruption, told me he’d been a member for two years, and asked if I’d ever thought about joining an MC, as they had an opening for a prospect.
After one visit to the clubhouse, I was convinced that was where I belonged.
My memory reverted to my father and the recollection that he never talked about what happened while he was away from us, but every time he returned, a small piece of him had been chipped away.
After he’d retired, he spiraled into a deep depression, self-medicating to numb the feelings he refused to talk about.
Two years after he died, I wanted to enlist in the service, follow in his footsteps, but my mother begged me not to. She said she wouldn’t survive if something happened to me, either during active duty or afterward. Of course, she feared the same fate would ensnare me like it did my father.
Every time I brought it up, she’d cry so much I gave up the notion, if only to save her from any further heartache. She’d been through hell. We all had.
Our moment of silence for my father was interrupted when Evie appeared in the kitchen.
“You guys okay?” she asked, her focus shifting from me to our mother and back again. I never knew what color hair she’d have. Sometimes it was blonde, and other times her strands were jet black. Today she sported dark red.
“Yeah. I’m just about to run to the store to see if they have the part needed to fix the AC.”
