Threat: A Blood Riders MC Novel (Book 1) Read online

  Threat

  a blood riders MC Novel (book 1)

  Tia Lewis

  Salted Pen Publications

  Contents

  Mailing List

  About This Book

  Prologue

  1. Nicole

  2. Nicole

  3. Drake

  4. Nicole

  5. Drake

  6. Nicole

  7. Drake

  8. Nicole

  9. Nicole

  10. Drake

  11. Nicole

  12. Drake

  13. Nicole

  14. Drake

  15. Nicole

  16. Drake

  17. Nicole

  18. Drake

  19. Nicole

  20. Drake

  21. Drake

  Two Years Later

  Thank You

  Bonus Book: Stadium of Lights

  1. Max

  2. Abby

  3. Max

  4. Abby

  5. Max

  6. Abby

  7. Max

  8. Abby

  9. Max

  10. Abby

  11. Max

  12. Abby

  13. Max

  14. Abby

  15. Max

  16. Abby

  17. Max

  18. Abby

  19. Max

  20. Abby

  21. Abby

  22. Max

  23. Abby

  24. Max

  25. Max

  26. Abby

  Epilogue

  What’s Next?

  Mailing List

  Also by Tia Lewis

  About The Author

  Sign up for Tia Lewis’ VIP e-mail list to receive new releases, excerpts, sales, and giveaways!

  Go to: www.NextBookRelease.com to sign up now or text LEWIS to 31996.

  FULL BOOK CATALOG BY TIA LEWIS

  Want to read all her future releases for FREE in exchange for your honest review? Then join her ARC team today!

  CLICK HERE TO JOIN

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2016 by Tia Lewis. All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  First Published in August 2016.

  First Edition.

  ISBN-13: 978-1537094847

  ISBN-10: 153709484X

  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 publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please contact: [email protected]. www.AuthorTiaLewis.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of the book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic, or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published by Salted Pen Publications, Minnesota.

  Threat: A Blood Riders MC Novel (Book 1)

  Edited by: Dawn Thompson & Donna Rich

  Cover designed by: Mayhem Cover Creations

  About This Book

  As V.P. of the Blood Riders MC, Drake is used to calling the shots, getting his way, and sleeping with every biker groupie within reach. When he meets Nicole, her feisty, headstrong beauty pulls him in, even as his instincts warn him she’s hiding something.

  Nicole is determined to learn who killed her father, a detective who was investigating the Blood Riders. When the chemistry between her and Drake becomes much more, she’s caught between her desires and her desperate need for answers.

  Then her search turns deadly, and Nicole has to put everything on the line―and trust that the man she’s fallen for will forgive her betrayal. Will he come to her defense ... or will his eyes be the last thing she ever sees?

  Threat is book one of the Blood Riders MC series.

  Author’s Note:

  Threat is a dark motorcycle romance novel that contains explicit sexual content, sexual assault, violence, strong language, and intended for mature audiences only. This book is not intended for readers who are under the age of 18 and uncomfortable with the subject matter. Reader discretion is advised.

  Thank you, everyone, for reading and supporting my work! I'm truly appreciative of your support and feedback! As a bonus for you, I've included my Amazon top #100 best-selling sports romance novel Stadium of Lights absolutely free! Enjoy! :)

  Prologue

  Drake

  We filed into the clubhouse one at a time, all of us looking like shit. It had been one of the toughest weeks of my life, and I knew I wasn’t alone in feeling that way.

  Tamara was behind the bar, already filling shot glasses with whiskey. She didn’t need to be told what to do. I saw tears in her eyes. I wanted to say or do something that would make her feel better, but there was nothing. And it wouldn’t have made a difference, anyway. Nothing would bring our brothers back.

  I looked at the wall outside of Jack’s office. Three pictures. Three members of our club who would never walk through the door again. I felt like part of my body had been amputated. I couldn’t imagine not seeing Lance, Austin or Pete again. I’d grown up with them, had known them for most of my life. Austin had once covered my ass during a shootout with the Cobras. And the fucking Cobras just had to kill him.

  I didn’t dare bring that up since it would only piss everybody off even more. The tension was high, and when a bunch of guys who weren’t used to showing emotion had a reason to be emotional all of a sudden, it wasn’t pretty. I didn’t need there to be any breakdowns around the place. There was no telling how they’d be once they got a little liquor in them.

  Jack came in last. He looked like shit like we should have buried him along with the other three. He hadn’t looked good in ages, though. It didn’t have anything to do with the murders. I wondered what was going on, but it would be a cold day in Hell before he'd confide in me. His supposed second-in-command. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him to understand that being second meant he should clue me in on what was happening in the club. That meant what was happening with him, too, if I was supposed to be in charge in the event that anything happened to him.

  We all picked up a shot from the bar, raising them in air. There were three dozen of us there, all of us mourning. We weren’t good at talking about our feelings, but some things didn’t need to be said out loud. We didn’t speak a toast out loud since none of us knew what to say. We just drank. We knew how to do that much.

  “I bet that priest didn’t know what to do with himself when he saw all of us,” Ace half-heartedly chuckled. He always tried to lighten the mood whenever he could. I wished it would work, but it didn’t seem like it would. At least he tried.

  “Yeah, and he was the one in the dress,” Diesel cracked. That
got a better laugh out of us.

  “I didn’t know Lance was Catholic,” Richie muttered. I threw him a dirty look.

  “What the hell did it matter?” I asked. I didn’t know what pissed me off about that kid, but he was always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Fucking Prospect. It wasn’t like we filled out forms when we joined the Blood Riders. It didn’t matter what religion a person was.

  “I’m just sayin’. His Ma made it sound like he was such a good boy, you know? He wasn’t like the way she made him sound.” Richie shrugged. I couldn’t give him shit over that—he had a point.

  “Yeah, Lance was one of the few guys who still had a mom who cared about him.” That wasn’t normal for us. Most of us were from broken homes, or we were orphans. Lance had both his parents with him until he was grown. His mother was one of those who always defended him—that goes to show how sometimes a mother could love her kid a little too much. It could be just as bad to always defend a kid as it was to beat them for the littlest things. Lance was a petty thief from the time he was thirteen. He wasn’t a nice kid, but he was a good friend. He was robust and tough, like Pete and Austin. It didn’t make any sense that they wouldn’t come back. I was sure they would walk through the door any minute.

  I heard sniffling from the other side of the room, and when I looked, I saw Violet and Darcy holding onto each other. I didn’t know why they were there, but I guessed they just wanted to be with friends. It wasn’t any easier for them than it was for us—and they were women, too, which I guess made it harder. I knew the way things went in our club, I knew they had probably both slept with all three guys at one time or another. Them and a bunch of other girls who floated in and out. We had our core group who stuck around, and they were two of them.

  Tamara was one, too. She looked pretty shaken up, but she did her job behind the bar. We all had our jobs in the club.

  Me? It was my job to find out why the hell the Cobras were killing our guys, and what we could do about it.

  “I say we storm their fucking headquarters and take ‘em all out.” Diesel looked serious as hell, his dark eyes almost black. Phil nodded, his face like stone. They were both ex-Marines. They were ready for battle. I knew I wouldn’t want to run into either of them in a dark alley if they weren’t on my side. I once overheard Phil tell Richie he knew ten ways to kill a man with a spoon. I still wasn’t sure if he was only joking to fuck with the kid or not. I didn’t wanna know.

  I looked around the room at my men. My friends, my brothers. They all wanted revenge for the deaths in our family. I wanted it, too.

  “That’s what they want, man,” I said. “That’s what they’re planning on, and they'll be ready for us when we burst through the doors. We can’t give it to them. We have to stay strong.” I sat on one of the leather stools in front of the long, polished bar. Tamara took good care of it, right down to making sure the glasses are shiny.

  “Stay strong? We’re strong if we go in there and kick the shit outta them. I wanna kill them all.” Sometimes I thought Diesel might be a little unbalanced. He used to talk about military stuff with Ace, who was in the Army, and Ace once told me he thought Diesel was a little too into the training he received back when he first enlisted.

  “Staying strong can mean having discipline, too,” I pointed out. I looked around the room, hoping somebody would back me up. Usually, my word was law. Nobody thought to go against me. I was second-in-command, but even back before Jack picked me as his second, I was a force to be reckoned with in the club.

  The rules didn’t apply when three of our own were cut down. I couldn’t get a handle on them. I waited for Jack to speak up as president, but he kept his mouth shut. I could have killed him for it.

  “We have to be the smart ones. They wanna lure us into a trap, the way they already have,” I said. “Hawk and his guys, they’re sick. Hawk plays mind games. He knows how to read his opponent and he’ll do anything to get to them. He twists the knife, you know?”

  Finally, Jack spoke up. “I’ve known him longer than anybody in this room, and what Drake’s saying is the truth. I don’t know who messed Hawk’s head up when he was a kid, but somebody did in a big way. He’s a sick fuck, that guy.”

  Jack’s words gave me a little more strength. “And he’s the master of information, too. He knows shit about us, about all his enemies. And you know he’s got plenty.”

  “So what if we get with the Road Knights, the Lost Breed, the Devil’s Riders? What if we get together and take them out as a group? No way they can defend themselves against something like that.” Creed looked and sounded serious, and I didn’t hate the idea. Finally getting rid of the Cobras once and for all. But…

  “Let’s face it,” Jack said, folding his tall body into a leather easy chair. Funny, seeing a big, tough man like him in an easy chair. “If we take them out as a group, then the entire group is gonna wanna split up what’s left behind. That means revenue streams. And you know what happens when you fuck with a biker’s money.” A collective groan rose up in the room. We all knew what Jack was getting at. It could turn into an all-out war.

  “And nobody’s saying the people Hawk and his crew do business with would wanna do business with any of us. And then they’d just be blowin’ in the wind, and they might complain to our people, our suppliers, and dealers. And then what would happen? We’d still end up losing all that money.”

  “So what, then?” Diesel asked, his jaw clenched just like his large, bony fists. “We just let them pick us off one by one? Or three at a time, like a week ago?”

  “No.” Jack’s reply was a like a whip. Everybody stood up a little straighter when he talked that way. “No, we don’t just let them pick us off. I didn’t say we’d have to roll over and play dead. What, do you think, I lost my balls when I lost my guys?”

  Diesel stood down a little. I could tell he had forgotten himself when he talked back to Jack like that. “No, brother. Sorry. It’s just…”

  “I know. It’s a tough time. It’s been a tough time for all of us.” Jack nodded, then stood and clapped a big hand on Diesel’s shoulder. D was a big guy—huge, really, and packed with muscle. But he looked small next to Jack, who was over six-and-a-half feet tall.

  “I just wanna get payback,” Diesel muttered.

  “And we will. We have to pull back and think up a plan, instead of blazing in there and getting ourselves killed. Remember: if we act out of anger, we lose our heads, and they win. Didn’t they teach you that in the Marines?”

  Diesel grinned a little. “Yeah. They did. You’re right, of course.” He shook Jack’s hand, then went to the bar for another drink. I had a feeling there would be a lot of drinking going on tonight, and who could blame us?

  Jack caught my eye, nodding his head toward his open office door. I knew what that meant, and I went in without question. He wanted to have a private conference. Good thing, too. I had a few questions I wanted to be answered, but I couldn’t ask them in front of the other guys.

  Jack’s office was a great room—more like a living room than an office, with comfortable furniture and a big, expensive looking desk in front of a leather chair big enough to fit a big man – like Jack. He had a sixty-inch TV on the wall—even nicer than the one out in the lounge, where we played video games together sometimes. His own private bathroom, which was a good thing in a club full of pigs.

  I had my own bathroom, too, but not because I had my own office. Because I lived in the clubhouse. I had always been the MC’s orphan in a way. I never had a decent home when I was growing up, and I didn’t see the point of wasting money on a house or even an apartment when everything I needed was in the clubhouse. Food, entertainment. There was always somebody there to talk to, to drink with. We had bedrooms on the second and third floors, too, so it wasn’t like I was ever alone. Odds were that any night of the week, somebody was sleeping it off upstairs. Or sleeping there because their old lady kicked them out, or because they wanted a little private time with one of
the girls in the club. It was like a second home to a lot of us.

  Jack sat at his desk with a heavy sigh. There was a big window behind him with metal bars over the outside. It wasn’t much of a view, anyway, just a crummy little street in Jamaica, Queens. The building looked like shit on the outside, just like all the other buildings on the street. Only on the inside would a person get a look at what the club was really dealing with. We were the richest, most well-connected MC in New York City, and it showed.

  Which was why clubs like the Cobras hated our guts, and the other ones only tolerated us. Hawk was either stupid or crazy enough—maybe both—to get on our bad side. Nobody else had the manpower or the weapons we did, so they knew it was best to be friends … or at least, stay on our good side.

  “What do you think?” he asked, running a hand through his gray hair. For as long as I’d known him, he’d had the same buzz cut. It was simpler, he said, easier to maintain. A man like him, with so many lives hanging in the balance of every decision he made, needed to save time where he could. None of us were exactly caught up in our looks.

  Well ... I was, a little bit, but only because the ladies liked me looking the way I did. That was another story.

  “What do I think? I think we’re gonna have straight up anarchy on our hands if we don’t come up with a way to get revenge and quiet everybody down. Words will only work for so long.”

  “I agree, V.P. So what do you think that’s gonna take?”

  “Wow. You’re really raking me over the coals here, aren’t you?” I couldn’t help smirking a little.

  “When I’m not here anymore, you’re gonna be the one who has to deal with this shit. I wanna see if you have what it takes.”

  “Oh, come on.” I sat on the sofa against the opposite wall, slouching a little.