Bash: Kings of Carnage MC VP Read online

  Bash

  Kings of Carnage MC

  Sapphire Knight

  Contents

  Kings of Carnage MC

  Warning

  ***

  Kings of Carnage MC

  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

  Epilogue

  ***

  ***

  ***

  Kings of Carnage MC

  Copyright © 2020 Bash by Sapphire Knight

  Cover Design by CT Cover Creations

  Editing by Mitzi Carroll

  Proofreading by Marisa Nichols

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  DO NOT SHARE

  Created with Vellum

  Warning

  This novel includes graphic language and adult situations. It may be offensive to some readers and includes situations that may be hotspots for certain individuals. This book is intended for ages 18 and older due to some steamy spots. This work is fictional. The story is meant to entertain the reader and may not always be completely accurate. Any reproduction of these works without Author Sapphire Knight’s written consent is pirating and will be punished to the fullest extent of the law.

  This book is fiction.

  The guys are over-the-top alphas.

  My men and women are nuts.

  This is not real.

  Don’t steal my shit.

  Read for enjoyment.

  This is not your momma’s cookbook.

  Easily offended people should not read this.

  Don’t be a dick.

  Romance shaming is slut shaming, don’t be that asshole.

  DO NOT SHARE

  ***

  To all the women out there who are strong enough to be their own hero. Or, maybe you were forced into being your own hero. Either way, you’re a survivor, your own force to be reckoned with. Whether you do that with a man by your side or not, what matters is you, your strength, and perseverance. Here’s to you and me, and to Girl Power that doesn’t have to be thrown in our faces to know we’re badasses.

  Kings of Carnage MC

  Chaos – President

  Hilary Storm

  Bash – Vice President

  Sapphire Knight

  Jinx – Road Captain

  Chelsea Camaron

  North – Enforcer

  M.N. Forgy

  Sly – Treasurer

  Nicole James

  Bouncer - Nomad

  Kim Jones

  Special mention of:

  Spin - Oath Keepers MC

  (Sapphire Knight MC Series)

  MC - Motorcycle Club

  Ol’ Lady – Female significant other

  Chapel - Where Church is held

  Clubhouse/ Compound – MC home base

  Church - MC ‘meeting’

  Bet – Yes, yep, yeah, okay, fuck yeah, hell yeah, that’s what’s up…etc.

  (You get the picture)

  Prologue

  If you have everything under control, you’re not moving fast enough. - Mario Andretti

  “I’m out of here.” I give a salute to my Kings of Carnage brothers and make my way to the side door. I can handle a beer or two then ride, but I’m not some young asshole anymore who’ll ride sloshed out of my mind. Had a buddy of mine die over that shit, and it changed me. I rarely snort the powder I offer up to the sexy dancers either. I did back in the day, but I’ve grown out of it. Now, it’s just a perk I give the girls when they offer me a dance or a bit of information.

  My brothers send me off with a nod and promises to see me tomorrow. There’s no end to club life; my brothers are my family, and we see each other all the time. It’s the way we like things, and the closer we are, the more we trust one another. In our line of work, especially mine, trust is imperative.

  It’s dark tonight—one of those eerie nights where the clouds hide away the stars and the air’s damp. It’s humid and a bit sticky, but the breeze is cool. These types of evenings often make for the most comfortable rides. There’s not much that holds a candle to riding this late in the South; it reminds me of cruising along the coast in spring. Climbing on my bike, the best sort of feeling washes over me, a peaceful one that I relish.

  My bike rumbles with a sexy growl as I crank her over, and the vibrations melt through my skin, fueling my addiction. I’m not some “enthusiast.” Riding—as well as my club—has become my life. It’s an infatuation running in my blood that I’ll never be able to shake, nor do I want to. The fumes from the exhaust hit me, and I slowly release my grip on the brake, coasting out of the bar’s parking lot.

  Lynyrd Skynyrd croons the “Ballad of Curtis Loew” as I cruise along, struggling to see. My headlight is shit on a black night like this. It flickers, and I begin to curse it as always. The fucking thing never works right, no matter how much I tinker with it.

  Just get me home, damn it, I silently chant and pick up my speed. If my light’s gonna give me issues, I better hurry the fuck up. I’m not trying to be out here, unable to see shit, attempting to repair the stupid thing. My brothers keep giving me hell for it, yet those fuckers haven’t been able to get it to work correctly either.

  There isn’t a star in sight tonight. The clouds are thick, consuming any light I may obtain from above. I wouldn’t be surprised if a dense fog decided to roll in as well. That’d be my damn luck. Singing to myself, I blaze a trail, basking in the wind hitting my skin. The club was busy tonight, and the girls looked damn good. Not a bad way to spend my evening—tits and a cold beer will please any man if they’ve got their priorities right.

  My light flickers off, and I immediately spit out a curse, sitting forward enough so I can bang on the glass. It flashes back on, and I give the loud beast some more gas. I’m hauling ass home before I’m stranded in the middle of nowhere, fuck the dumb shit. I hold on and pay better attention to my surroundings. I don’t need any critters running out in front of me.

  My phone rings, echoing through my helmet, but I ignore it. Too many distractions and it can wait. My light flashes, turning off again, and I explode, past the point of being patient with the fucking thing. I lean forward, slamming my hand on it, screaming profanities into the eerie cool night. If only I’d had my head up. If only I’d had some way of seeing in front of me…

  The crash happens so fast, it’s surreal. I feel the initial impact, and then I’m airborne. My radio plays, along with a sickening screech of metal on metal. A horrendous scraping from the asphalt ripping against my baby floods through my mind, then I’m hitting the ground where everything goes black.

  One

  I ride a bike to add life to my days. - Unknown

  I can
’t believe what I just witnessed. I’m shaken to my core over it. I’d heard the rumble from the motorcycle a ways out. I’d been waiting for it to get close enough so I could maybe flag the rider down. I was hoping they’d possibly have a cell phone I could borrow, and if not, at least have them get a message to someone for me. My phone got shut off last week. I just couldn’t afford that luxury right now. Eating is far more important than having a way to communicate with my best friend. The less I contact her, at this point, the better, anyhow.

  It’s been so quiet out here; it’s had me kind of spooked. I’d waited patiently behind my car for someone to drive by, not wanting to sit inside and accidentally doze off. My vehicle’s sitting in the middle of the lane, so there was no way someone would miss it. I mean, they’d have to hit me or swerve into the other lane to avoid the beat-up old clunker. I feel so foolish for thinking it was okay to leave it there. Needing help or not, I just caused this horrific accident by not putting the vehicle in neutral and pushing it to the side.

  I can’t say I’m surprised I got stuck either; my car had been giving me more and more issues lately. It wasn’t anything expensive, but it ran decent when I paid for it with the little bit of cash I had. I’d hit a bump tonight, and it’d died almost immediately. I don’t know what on earth would cause it to break. I’m no mechanic. Whatever happened to it killed it completely, though. There isn’t power going to anything. I’m stranded in the middle of nowhere, and I don’t even have a freaking light or headlights. I feel so stupid for not keeping a flashlight in my car. You live and learn, I suppose. I know one thing, when I get out of this mess, I’ll be paying a visit to the dollar store for that emergency flashlight.

  As the rider had come close enough to finally see my vehicle, I’d watched his own headlight flicker off, casting us into complete darkness once more. It was too late, however, and his motorcycle and music were far too loud to hear my screams, pleading that he watch out—that he stop.

  In what felt like was merely an instant, he’d slammed into my car…the noise was something I’ll never be able to free from my mind. It sounded like death, and in the middle of it was him weightlessly propelling through the air. He’d landed off the road into the grassy area, and I ran toward him, screaming, panicking that he was dead...all because of me.

  I could make out the shape of his twisted body as I went to him. He lay motionless, and it only fed into my trepidation. He could be dead, and it’s all my fault.

  Everyone knows when your car breaks down, you’re supposed to put it in neutral and push it out of the way. Foolishly, I thought by leaving it on the road, it would garner the help I needed, not cause an accident. Everyone knows that’s what you do when a car breaks down. I was dumb enough to believe it’d get me the help I need, not cause an accident.

  “Oh, God! Please don’t be dead!” I cry, already tearing up as I fall to my knees beside his lifeless form. My hands immediately move to touch him, but I pull back at the last second.

  What is wrong with me? He could be seriously injured; I probably shouldn’t move him.

  “Please, this can’t be happening.” My eyes shoot up to the dark sky, pleading. I don’t know if anyone up there is watching right now, but I have to ask. “God, if you’re listening, I need your help. This poor man is hurt, and it’s all my fault. I’ll do anything to make this right…anything!” The tears fall down my cheeks as I begin to sob for this unknown man. “I promise!” I wail. “Anything!”

  The still man begins to wheeze, moments after my shout of sorrow. I quickly move, shuffling closer, attempting to get a better look at him and his injuries. The murky clouds are beginning to thin out and clear up, the moon and stars peeking through to mock the night. They offer a touch of light to this dimness, and I can eventually make out the man’s features a bit better. They’re covered in blood and dirt, of course, and my heart aches for him. Crying won’t help either of us, but I can’t seem to stop. My body shakes with adrenaline, my mind beckoning me to help him, but I’m clueless as to what to do.

  This is all my fault.

  He wheezes again, and I move to lay his head in my lap. I brush my hand over his scruffy whiskers painted with blood and dust and expel a sigh. He’s utterly beautiful, no matter he’s covered in grime. I can’t help but take notice, even a fool wouldn’t be blind to his magnificence. I can only imagine how handsome he must be without the tells of the wreck covering his features, how charming his smile is sure to be.

  “I’m sorry—so, so sorry,” I whisper, repeating myself as a few of my tears fall to his face. I remain over him, cradling his head carefully, hoping to offer him some sense of comfort. My fingers softly pet his scruff, unable to stop from touching him. “Come back. Oh, God, what have I done?” I beg. “I wish I could help you.” My eyes clench closed, consumed with grief from accidentally hurting someone this badly. “I don’t know what to do to bring you back.”

  “Shh,” comes from my lap with a deep rasp. A large calloused hand reaches up, tenderly cupping my cheek.

  Parting my lids, my somber gaze finds the man awake in my lap. I made him wreck, yet he attempts to console me. “Y-you’re back? You didn’t die?”

  His lips tilt into a smirk. “I could believe this is Heaven, and you’re an angel, but I don’t think my body would be this sore if it were the case.”

  Biting my lip, I watch him as he continues to stroke his thumb across my cheek. He’s catching my tears, staring at me as if I’m the only person he’s ever seen. “You wrecked. M-my car is in the road, and you smacked into it. You flew through the air and hit the ground pretty hard. It sounded so bad.” More tears spill over with my admission, and he reaches for the hand I have against his chest.

  He lays his warm, rough palm over it, growing serious. “My headlight went out…I never saw you. Are you all right, darlin’?”

  “Me? You’re worried about me? I just saw you f-fly through the air. I watched your body hit the ground, and it was terrifying. I thought you were dead.”

  His brows bunch, his lips pouting a bit before he says, “Of course, I am. Only a dick wouldn’t care if you were injured. Now, tell me, did I hurt you when I hit your vehicle?”

  I shake my head, my hand lightly moving over his chin. I can’t stop touching him, nor do I want to. I’m so thankful he’s alive. “I’m okay. You’re the one who I thought was going to die. God, I’m so sorry.”

  “I heard you before, Angel. You don’t have to keep apologizing to me.”

  “You could hear me? But you were unconscious. At one point, I wasn’t sure you were even breathing. I think you stopped, then somehow started once I prayed.”

  He shrugs and winces with the move. “I could hear your voice, not anything else. Just you. Sounds to me like you’re the one who saved me.”

  I bite my lip, not sure how to take his words. “Uh, can you move your body?”

  “I think so. Did you happen to call the police or anyone else about this?”

  Swallowing roughly, I shamefully admit, “I don’t have a phone. I wish I could’ve to get you help. You need someone here to check your injuries.”

  He relaxes, and with a gesture, he points toward his foot. “Mine’s in my boot. Would ya hand it to me so we can take a look at the damage? No need to rush into calling the paramedics when I’m still kicking.”

  “Yes, of course.” I carefully move so as not to hurt him any further. Leaning over his body a bit, I pull up his faded jean leg on the opposite side. I reach into his chunky black leather riding boot and pull out an S9. I hand it over, surprised to see it’s still there after what he just endured, and it’s not even cracked. I bet he looked sexy dressed in his distressed jeans, boots, white T-shirt and leather vest before all of this happened and covered him in blood and road grime.

  He presses the side button, expelling a relieved breath when it illuminates. “Good, it still works.”

  I bob my head, not sure what else to do as I kneel beside him and watch him. He turns on the flashligh
t and sits up. At his cringe of pain, I lunge forward to help him. “Be careful!”

  He flashes me an amused grin, his sparkling gaze meeting mine again. “I’m okay, sweet pea. Thanks for your concern.”

  “Please, let me help you.” I stand and offer him my hand. If I were stronger, I’d bend down to help lift him, but this is the most I can offer right now. He’s got to be wobbly after going through that whole ordeal.

  He chuckles and clenches at his ribs with the move. “Fuck!” He hisses the curse. “I think I broke a rib or two in that tumble. They’re the worst to crack, they screw with everything.”

  “You don’t seem too upset about it, at least not as much as I would think. Has this happened before or something?”

  “Not exactly. I’ve wrecked before, back when I was a kid. I prefer to stay on my bike; I learned that the hard way.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t move. I don’t want to make it any worse. We should get an ambulance here with a stretcher, especially if your ribs are injured.”

  He flashes me his beguiled grin again and argues, “I’ll be all right, sugar. I’m a man.”

  I roll my eyes but step away. I’m still close enough to help if he needs it, but I give him a little space to move. If anything, I’m happy to know he’s well enough to act a bit macho around me. He finally gets to his feet, hand firmly holding his injured side. He’s tall, much taller than he’d appeared to be on the ground. I don’t know why, but that detail excites me even more.