Cole, page 1
COLE
Desert Rebels MC Series
Book 1
By
Tory Richards
Copyright © 2019 Tory Richards
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Cole (Desert Rebels MC, #1)
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
Epilogue
Desert Rebels MC Series
Phantom Riders MC Trilogy
Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 1
Phantom Riders MC - Hawk | Excerpt
Ruthless | Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 1 | Excerpt
Dangerous | Nomad Outlaws Trilogy Book 2 | Excerpt
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Further Reading: A Soldier's Promise
Also By Tory Richards
About the Author
Editor: Alisha Corsi
Cover Designer: Probook
Chapter 1
"What the fuck?" I grumbled, half-asleep, rolling away from the woman in my bed so that I could reach the ringing phone on the nightstand. I hoped like hell that it wasn't Demon needing something, because I was too fucking hung over from a night of drinking to be out riding on my bike right now. "What?" I snarled into the receiver once I had it up to my ear. I lay back against the mattress, closing my eyes with a tired groan.
A deep chuckle was my response from the other end of the line. "Sounds like I caught you at a bad time, brother."
I grinned and tried to remain awake, recognizing Moody's voice, even though it had been quite a while since the last time we’d talked. With his wife, Bailey, and a houseful of kids, he was pretty much domesticated these days. "What the fuck you want this early in the morning?"
The woman next to me stirred with a low whine.
"Has Demon talked to you yet?"
I grunted out a negative response.
"Need a favor," Moody said.
"What?" I yawned, stretching.
"Remember back when that fucker kidnapped Bailey and we tracked him down at that Denny's?"
Hell, that had been a few years ago. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs, and took a minute to think about it. That situation had been a fucking mess. The maniac who'd kidnapped Bailey had thought that she should be his. He'd roughed her up and then tried to get her to his MC when Bailey had managed to get away. "Yeah."
"Remember the woman working there that helped her, Rosie?"
Not really.
"Told her I owed her, and that if she ever needed anything to get in touch. I heard from her yesterday."
I vaguely recalled the woman, but I knew that if it hadn't been for her then we may not have found Bailey alive. She'd kept Bailey hidden in the back of the Denny’s until we could get to her. I had a soft spot for Moody's wife. If she and Moody hadn't hooked up, I would have fought hard to win her over. "What's she need?"
"A place for her daughter to hide out for a while." That didn't sound too bad. "And I'm not about to bring her here. Bailey's about to pop out baby number four—"
I snorted at that news. "Fuck, brother, why don't you try keeping your dick in your pants for a change?" Even as I said the words, I knew that if I had a woman like her I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of her either.
"Not my fault I have super sperm and she gave me three babies in one pop."
Their triplets were about four-years-old now. I picked up on the contentment in Moody's tone. The man had come a long way from the distrustful, uncaring bastard that I'd known before Bailey had come into his life. After what he'd gone through, he deserved a good, happy life.
Releasing a tired breath, I sat up against the headboard, good and awake now. "Why does she need to lay low?" I was all for helping out, but as Enforcer for the Desert Rebels I had an obligation to keep my club safe. I needed to know if this favor would put the club at risk. "She in trouble?"
Moody snorted. "Trouble with her ex. Rosie wants to get her daughter away from there to put distance between them." Moody paused briefly before continuing. "Should be easy, unless you can't handle the possibility of a love-sick boyfriend showing up." He let the sentence trail off with a wry chuckle.
I scoffed at his tactic, not quite ready to believe that it was going to be as simple as he claimed it would be. "Seems like a lot of trouble just to put distance between them. Why doesn't her mother just lock her up in her room or something?" I ran my hand through my tousled hair, picturing a young, impulsive girl sneaking off to be with her boyfriend every chance she got.
Moody released a breath. "Asked Rosie the same thing, brother," he admitted. "For one thing, her daughter is an adult. The ex is the one doing the stalking and making life difficult for her. Rosie believes if Raven disappears for a while, he'll forget about her and move on."
I frowned. "So this is a babysitting job?" I wasn't a fucking babysitter, but I supposed I could bring the woman to the clubhouse, put her to work during her stay. "How long we talking about?"
"A few months," he answered. "One other thing, brother—I need you to pick her up. She doesn't have a car. Rosie said they'd meet you at the same Denny's we picked up Bailey at. I'll text you Rosie's number so you can make the arrangements."
His tone sounded as if I'd already agreed to help. Hell, Moody knew that I would. Moody was a good friend to the club, he'd helped us out plenty of fucking times. I took a minute to pull up the memory of where the Denny's in question was located. The woman next to me moved, her arm reaching out searchingly. I grinned, bringing her hand over to cover my morning wood.
"I'll do it, brother. We're down a club girl right now. I won't put her to work on her back, but she can clean." A groan escaped me as Tamara's hand curled around my dick and began to pump. "You said you spoke to Demon?" Demon was our president. We'd voted him in after our previous president, Killer, had succumbed to cancer three years earlier.
"Already did, brother," Moody admitted. "Said shit has been quiet and this was your call."
I stretched back a little and thrust my dick up in the air, encouraging Tamara to keep going. Hopefully after she pumped my dick a little she'd roll over and replace her hand with her mouth.
"I'll make plans to head out right away. Got nothing going on." Demon hadn't been lying when he'd told Moody that shit had been quiet lately. We hadn't had any real trouble since we’d taken over the Devil's Soldiers and patched over what was left of their MC. The ones that we wanted, anyway.
"Appreciate it, brother."
Moody texted Rosie's number as soon as we ended the call. I set my phone down on the nightstand and closed my eyes, enjoying the soft, wet lips closing over my dick. I groaned at Tamara's thoroughness and expertise, dropping my hand in the back of her hair and forcing her to take me deeper. Whether her moans were of pleasure or protest, I didn't give a fuck. She was a club slut, and this is what they were kept around for.
Five minutes later I was coming down her throat.
RAVEN
"You lied to him." I stuffed a few necessities into a small gym bag that belonged to my brother, Don, the only thing I’d been told there would be enough room for on the bike. "I don't like going into this under false pretenses." I paused long enough to give my mother, Rosie, a disapproving glance. She knew how much I hated lying.
"It was necessary," Rosie insisted, pulling a couple of tees out of a drawer and handing them to me. "They would never have agreed to let you go with them if you'd told them the truth, and you need protection."
"What if it backfires?" I asked, stuffing the tees in on top of the two pairs of jeans she'd packed. "Have you thought of that? The Desert Rebels are a dangerous motorcycle club, mom."
Rosie scoffed, brushing my concerns aside. "Exactly why you're going with them. They won't let anything happen to you. All you have to do is remember the story we've come up with."
I pressed my lips. "The story you came up with," I reminded her. "Mom?"
She sat down on my bed, looking at me expectantly.
"I know that you're worried about me. I'm just as worried about leaving all of you here. Maybe I should just disappear on my own. I can cut off my hair, change the color, change my appearance, and get on a bus dressed like a boy." I knew as soon as I’d laid out my plan that it wouldn’t work. I had size D breasts, and no amount of binding was going to camouflage them.
Mom shook her head the entire time I spoke. She'd apparently made up
Because it had happened only last night, I wanted to scream. Instead I said, "They haven't found out who I am yet." I clamped my mouth closed to calm my growing frustration. It wouldn't solve anything to fight with Mom, who was only trying to help.
Mom set a pair of sneakers down next to the bag. "It's a good thing you have boots. You can wear them on the bike ride."
"Mom?" I waited until I had her attention. "Once those men find out who I am, they'll come here, and they won't be nice."
"They won't find you."
I released a heavy sigh of frustration. "It's not just me that I'm worried about." Couldn't she understand that?
"What?" There was a spark of anger in Rosie's eyes as she slapped her hands on her hips. Despite her show of confidence, I knew that she was frightened, though knowing my mom, she would never admit it. "You think killing a bunch of helpless women in this small town will go unnoticed?"
"Maybe we should all go into hiding," I suggested. I had four siblings, and I was the baby. Amber and Martha still lived at home, and attended the local college. Don and William were long-haul truck drivers and were on the road somewhere on the East Coast. Our father had died of a heart attack the year before.
"Sweetheart, that would be a big mistake. It would only prove to these hoodlums that you told us what you saw, and give them even more of a reason to hurt us and then go looking for you. This way if they show up here, we can act ignorant and tell them you came home one day, packed a bag, and said you were going on a road trip to find yourself."
I scoffed at that. "They won't buy that, Mom. They're killers!"
She shrugged. "I just have to sound convincing." She made it sound so easy.
I turned before she could see the tears in my eyes. As long as I’d lived, Mom had always been the problem-solver in the family. She was like a dog with a bone, and refused to give up or give in when a situation needed to be resolved. I'd even known her to help our neighbors, as well as complete strangers, when the need arose. Hence the reason she'd called some biker named Moody to help me. Apparently she'd helped his wife out of a bind a few years ago, and he'd given her his number in case she ever needed him to return the favor.
If given the opportunity, Mom would take on the world's problems. She always managed to come up with a solution that worked, but this time her solution seemed weak. We were dealing with killers, not working out a compromise between two arguing employees at Denny's.
I quickly brushed at my cheeks and sucked in a deep breath. I could hear Mom’s movements behind me as she continued to pull out things for me to take.
Her silence spoke volumes. She knew that I was worried and upset. I'd witnessed a horrible crime, and worse, I'd been seen before I’d made my escape. I should have just kept driving and not stopped until I was across the country. Under normal circumstances I would have gone directly to the police station. But there'd already been a cop there, and he had executed a man in cold blood. Instead, I'd driven like a bat out of hell all the way home and had fallen into my mother's arms, barely able to get a word out and not knowing what to do.
"You're going to be okay, Raven," Mom said from behind me.
I turned and gave her a watery smile.
I could hear the conviction in her tone, but my mom was naïve as to the kind of men we were dealing with. I worked in a men's club, a club for men who were rich and powerful and capable of anything. They were ambitious, and that made them dangerous. They were good to the women who worked there, generous with their tips, respectful as long as you gave them what they wanted. For the most part, they trusted that we could keep our mouths shut about what we saw and heard, and that we would provide good service. They weren't there to pick up women, they were there to discuss business and make deals.
They were the type of men who wore expensive suits, smoked expensive cigars, and drank expensive scotch. If one of them offered money for a little extra something from one of the girls, it was completely up to the girl to decide if she would have sex with him or not.
I never took any of the men up on those offers. I did my job and nothing else, happy with the paycheck that I got at the end of every week.
"Just stick to the story. It's simple and believable."
And if they find out who I was and came for me? What then?
More importantly, what would happen if the Desert Rebels discovered my deception?
It was possible that I was in more danger than my mother knew.
Chapter 2
Cole
SAX AND I WALKED INSIDE Denny's as if we owned the fucking place, our size and cuts drawing immediate attention and discomfort. Sax and I were both big men and well over six-feet-tall. I was aware of the heads that swung our way, a normal occurrence wherever the Desert Rebels went. Belonging to an MC, being covered in tattoos, and exuding tough, unapproachable demeanors always elicited fear and nervousness from civilians. They expected the worst from us, and they usually went out of their way to avoid us. Of course, it was easier to let them think that we meant trouble. Questions weren't asked, and if anything bad did happen, no one ever saw anything because they were too afraid to speak out against bikers.
My gaze scanned the restaurant, looking for Rosie. I could have come for Raven on my own, but Demon didn't like any of us traveling alone so far away from home. With new MC's popping up everywhere overnight, we never knew when we'd be trespassing through a claimed territory. Finally, my eyes lit on an older woman who was walking out from the back of the restaurant. I recognized her as the woman that I'd seen years before—older, a little heavier, but her kind expression was the same as at it had been then.
I didn’t expect her to recognize me, so I was surprised when she walked directly toward me with a big smile.
"Cole?" she asked, surprising me by taking my hands briefly.
"Yes, ma'am," I responded, getting a snort from Sax.
"Come," she ordered, turning around and walking away. "My daughter is in the back." Her laugh was a little forced and laced with nervousness. "Her ex-boyfriend just won't leave her alone."
Well, that explained why the woman was hiding in the back. Sax and I exchanged smirks and followed her.
"Why didn't you just call the cops?" Sax questioned behind me. It was something that we'd talked to each other about earlier.
"Ah..." she stopped at a closed door and turned back to us, wringing her hands. I recognized the nervous gesture. "Well, ah, this is a small town, and his brother and uncle are policemen in the department."
"Fuck, bad luck." Sax's tone was understanding.
Her smile was a little forced. I stared at her, wondering why she was so fucking nervous. Her hands looked red now. A prickling at the back of my neck told me that she wasn't being completely truthful. I was good at reading people, and the woman standing before us was scared of something.
"Are they giving you a hard time?" I asked. I fucking hated cops who used their authority to intimidate people.
"No! No!" she quickly rushed out, offering nothing more. She took a breath, smiling. "My daughter is in here." She pushed the door open to a small office of sorts. "Raven, they're here."
The woman sitting at the desk had her head bent at something that she was reading, her mother's voice drawing her gaze upward.
Damn. The woman was a fucking stunner.
The first thing I noticed was the jet black silkiness of her thick hair, which was pulled up in a sloppy ponytail. The next thing I took in was the graceful column of her throat, and the sexy definition of her clavicle at the top of her breast bone. I'd never noticed the clavicle on a woman before—my favorite part of a woman’s body was her tits—but the square cut of this woman's shirt hugged the top half of her body, drawing the eye there. The second thing I noticed was her luscious tits, and then the bright green, cat-shaped eyes that met mine.
The woman rose to her feet—she couldn't have been more than five-three—and she was a curvy little thing. The honeyed color of her smooth skin suggested that her father hadn't been Caucasian—maybe Hispanic, or even Native American. Her high cheekbones complimented her full lips. The smile that she cast in my direction, a cross between innocence and vixen, went straight to my dick.
