Untouchable: An Unacceptables MC Standalone Romance Read online

  He took his seat again and lit a cigarette.

  “Fuck you!” Red leapt to his feet. “You’re the reason Abel is dead and you think that just because you wear the same patch as us that you can sit at this table.”

  “Red, sit your fucking ass down.” Ryder’s eyes were narrowed. I could see his hands shaking a bit.

  “We all have done things that we regret. Most of us have done even worse shit than this in our lifetimes.” Holt was always the damn voice of reason. “We need to move forward, not go at each other’s throats. That’s how those sons-of-bitches will actually win.”

  “What is the plan?” I asked.

  “We are going to lay low. We will not continue this violence now. There is too much at stake and we are wounded. We all need time to heal and pick the pieces back up. Bear is going to head back to Atlanta. If he hears of any other threat or something related to this, he will report directly to me on the matter and I will bring it to this table right away. No one will be kept in the dark from this moment on. We will keep moving forward and play out the cards as they are dealt.” With that, Ryder slammed the gavel down onto the wooden table and that was that.

  Chapter 1

  Trent

  A Eew Months Later

  “Hey handsome, want a lap dance?” I glanced up over my shoulder at a lanky middle-aged woman. In the dimly lit club, all I could tell was she had a decent rack, pounds of eye makeup on and long blonde hair that nearly touched her ass cheeks. She seemed cute enough and the dancer that was on the stage was not doing it for me.

  “What’s your name, darlin’?” I asked, having to shout over the loud thumping of bass. I grabbed her hand, pulling the petite stripper onto my lap. She plopped down, making her tits nearly pop right out of the dark purple bra that was at least a size too small.

  “I’m Diamond. What’s yours, stud?” She giggled, batting her eyelashes.

  “Tre,” I said flatly.

  Her flirty grin twisted as she rolled her fingers over the patches on my cut. “Are you a Sinner?” she asked, her eyes wide.

  I shook my head no. “Is that a problem?”

  “Actually, it’s fantastic.” She bit her lip.

  She started to grind a little on my lap, biting my neck a few times.

  “Why is it good that I am not a damn Sinner?” I pushed her away a little. I had been drugged once in a strip club, I wasn’t going to let it happen again.

  “Come with me.” She stood up, grabbed my hand, trying to drag me out of the back door.

  I stopped her before she could push the metal door open. “Mind telling me what the hell is going on?”

  “They can’t know I’m talking to an Unacceptable,” she whispered and motioned for me to follow her.

  I reluctantly followed her as she rounded the corner and starting down a vacant backstreet. She stopped under the street light next to a dumpster that reeked to high heaven. The yellow lighting revealed a fading shiner covering her left eye that went all the way down her cheek to her jawline.

  Grabbing her chin, I asked, “Need me to take care of the cocksucker that gave you that?” I turned her head to get a better look before she pushed my hand away.

  “I want you to take care of him for so much more than this fucking nothing of a bruise.” Disdain dripped from her words like viper’s venom. “I know who killed your president a few months back.”

  Without even thinking about it, my fingers wrapped around her throat and I threw her into the brick wall. I got within an inch of her face, barking at her, “Do not fuck with me, sweetheart. It will be the last thing you ever do.”

  Her tiny fingers pulled at mine as she gasped. “I swear—my husband did it.” She had tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

  I released her throat. “Tell me everything,” I snarled.

  “All I know is a few months ago he came home in the middle of the night with some of his friends, bragging about how he killed the unkillable, the fearless leader of the Unacceptables. They had been trying to off him since the bullshit with the last president. He thought I was asleep but I heard everything.”

  “What is his fucking name?” I asked.

  “Ralph.”

  Ralph? What a twit of a name. “Do you know where he is?” I gripped her shoulders. I was scared if I let go of her, she would vanish into thin air and it would all be a sick twisted dream to fuck with me even more.

  She nodded. “I’ll even give you a key to the house and a picture of the bastard.”

  “Red? Man, ya in here?” I slammed my boot into the door, practically taking it off its hinges. In the back of the mechanic shop, there were a few rooms we had available in case any member needed a place to crash. Red’s old lady had finally had enough with his drinking and fucking around, and had kicked his ass out.

  I heard him groan.

  “Dude, get the fuck up.” I kicked the side of the mattress, ripping the covers off of him.

  “Go the hell away, fucker, before I shove my boot so far up your ass it comes out of your fucking mouth. It’s the middle of the damn night for Christ sake.” He scoffed before rolling over and throwing a pillow over his head.

  “I found him.” My sinister tone sliced through the air as the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. After months of searching, the Sinner who took Abel’s life was finally going to have to pay for what he had done.

  “Him? Like the him?”

  “Fuck yes, brother.”

  Red shot up from bed like a bat out of hell, grabbed his jeans, and started to get dressed. “Have you called Ryder or Holt yet?”

  “They’re not answering.”

  “Let’s go then.” Red’s cut was the last thing he threw on before we stomped out to our bikes where they waited in the gravel lot at the back of the shop.

  Rocks and dirt flew from the spinning of my back tire as I hauled ass to Ryder’s house. I knew busting through his front door at three in the morning was probably not going to go over well with our new president or his old lady, but I didn’t fucking care at that point.

  Red was right on my tail. We weaved down the winding roads, taking turns way too fast, running stoplights and nearly flying off the side of a mountain.

  I kicked out my Dark Horse’s stand and flew up the porch steps. I tried the doorknob but the damn thing was locked. Banging as loud as I could, I called for Ryder.

  Within seconds, he was throwing the front door open. “For fuck’s sake, Tre. What could be this important right now? Raine is sleeping for crying out loud.”

  “Get fucking dressed!” I yelled, barging into his front room with Red behind me.

  “Not until you tell me what is fucking going on.” Ryder stood at the bottom of the staircase with his arms folded over his bare chest. He was freaking stark naked and didn’t seem to bat an eyelash at it.

  Red’s face was flushed as he gripped the doorjamb. “He found the guy. He fucking found him, Pres.”

  The color drained from Ryder’s face. “Are you sure? Are you positive you found him?”

  I nodded as I started to pace in the small foyer.

  “Get everyone to the bar. We need to have a meeting and plan this shit out right now. Let’s go hunting.” Ryder’s face twisted into an ominous smile as he made the declaration.

  “Aye, brother.” Red turned and marched down the front steps, making a few phone calls before he got back on his bike.

  “I’ll get Holt. See you at the bar,” I stated to Ryder before he started to head back up the stairs to get dressed.

  “You’ve done good, brother. I appreciate this. I know Raine will as well.”

  Sitting at the round table with Ryder holding the gavel was still not sitting well with me. I trusted him for the most part, knew he loved the club as much as any of us did, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t like change. I didn’t like taking orders from someone years younger than me who was so much less experienced than I was when it came to war in general, but I had to blindly follo
w my new leader—that’s what a good soldier does.

  “How do we know your source is credible?” Jesse asked from across the table.

  I slammed my fist down on the old wood. “I’ll bring her scrawny ass in here right now so she can tell you all of it herself if you want.”

  Holt cleared his throat. “I’m with Jesse. How do we know this whore isn’t just sending us out to do her dirty work and off her abusive ex-pimp?”

  Ryder looked over at me. “You sure we can trust her? Her name is Diamond for fuck’s sake.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “She said her husband came home that night bragging about it with his buddies. She ran away a few weeks ago after he threw her down some stairs.”

  “Fucking dirtbag deserves to die no matter what, if ya ask me,” Ryder remarked. “Any man that lays a hand on his old lady like that should have to eat his own balls.”

  Holt rubbed the back of his neck for a few seconds before speaking. “I have a strong feeling that Abel would have wanted us to stop the bloodshed. Son, we talked about this.”

  Ryder looked over to his number two, not like a son would, but a superior. “This club needs to feel the sweet glory of victory to truly heal. We gave it time, we need this. All in favor of hunting down this son of a bitch and bringing justice to our club?”

  In unison, everyone yelled, “Aye!” Even Holt agreed.

  Ryder slammed the gavel down on the worn wood, sending a crackling through the air. “Let’s go teach these motherfuckers a lesson they will never forget!”

  We went into autopilot.

  Kevlar vests—check.

  Zip ties—check.

  All the guns we could carry—check.

  Knives—check.

  String—check.

  “Collin.” Ryder put his hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder, stopping him from getting onto his bike when the rest of us did. “You need to head to my house and get Raine. Take her to your mother’s place and watch them. Ozzy will go with you. If this goes south, I don’t want them to be in danger too.”

  Collin and Ozzy did as they were told without question, though I could tell Collin was pissed the fuck off to not be allowed to go avenge his father.

  “I can go watch Crickett and Raine if you want Collin on this run,” I offered, putting my skull bucket on.

  Ryder shook his head. “Collin is too green for this. I don’t want him to blow it. We got one shot at this shit, and he’ll get over it.”

  It didn’t take long for us to find the house off of Old Hill Road, the red one in the back, just like Diamond had explained to me. We stashed our bikes down at the end of the street and hoofed it through the woods.

  Ryder handed me a ball of string. “Ya ready to do this?”

  I grabbed my knife out of my boot before answering. “Let’s make this a bloody night these fuckers will never forget.”

  I unlocked the back door and we all filed into the small house quietly. There were two guys passed out, and I glanced down at the photo Diamond had given me then shook my head at Ryder and Holt. They slit the men’s throats in one swift motion. The light sounds of gurgling and gasping turned into our soundtrack as we checked the rest of the house as stealthily as possible. There was only one other man in the house, and he was a dead ringer for the guy in the picture.

  I motioned to Red, who hit the guy hard in the temple with the butt of his sawed-off twelve gauge, knocking him out cold. Ryder and Holt looked at the photo in my hand and checked the guy out.

  “Let’s get to work, boys.” Ryder looked like a fucking kid on Christmas morning.

  We made quick work of it, stripping him down and dragging his limp, naked body into the kitchen. After using zip ties to cuff his forearms and ankles to a wooden chair, I put a noose around the base of his balls. Cutting off circulation, I looped the end of the string around his neck. If he struggled, it’d get tighter.

  “Wake his ass up!” Holt yelled, slapping the guy across his face.

  Ryder took his knife, slicing down his right arm. “Ralphy…oh, Ralphy. Wakey, wakey. It’s fucking Christmas and you’re about to shoot your eye out.”

  I chuckled at Ryder’s fucked up A Christmas Story reference. “I got this.” I grabbed a cleaver from the kitchen counter—how convenient that it was just sitting there for me to play with. I pulled back and didn’t even consider stopping myself. I chopped off the side of his left hand, taking the thumb with it.

  A bone-chilling wail leapt from the man’s throat and he started to thrash around. “What the fuck? You all are going to fucking pay for this. Fucking cock-sucking pieces of donkey shit.” Sweat and tears started rolling down his face as he continued to cuss and whip around. Blood sprayed all over the linoleum floor.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Jesse hissed, punching the guy in the stomach.

  I spit in his face. “This is for Abel.” I put the dude’s thumb into his mouth. “Stop crying. Here, suck on this, you fucking baby.”

  “Who the fuck is Abel?” he mumbled the best he could with his mouth full. He tried to spit his digit out of his mouth but I slammed it shut so Ryder could duct tape his jaw.

  Holt grabbed the cleaver from my hand, slashing the top of our hostage’s thigh as deep as he could get the blade. “He was our president and you shot him in the back of the fucking head like a goddamn coward. You’re a woman beater, a kidnapper, a murderer. You’re going to have to pay for what you did.”

  Ryder took his camo Gerber pocketknife out of his back pocket and slowly carved the words king killer and woman beater into his chest in big block letting. Line by line, he slid his blade over the man’s flesh, fileting the message in deep. In that moment, I started to heal. As fucked up as it was, I was finally starting to feel at peace with what had happened to Abel. Revenge was so fucking sweet.

  “Holt, will you do the honors?” I asked, handing him the serrated bread knife I had brought with us.

  “Gladly.” He looked the fucker right in the eye as he slowly started to saw his balls off. The shrill that emanated from his panic was music to my ears as his manhood was stripped from him.

  I put the severed testicles into a plastic bag then gave them to Ryder. “I think this is going to be the perfect present for our fucking friends.”

  Chapter 2

  Sloan

  A Couple Weeks Later

  The three flights of stairs up to my apartment always felt never-ending after a long night shift at the hospital. I loved being an emergency room nurse, but the long hours of being on my feet all night, running around like a chicken with my head cut off were starting to really wear on me.

  Finally, I trudged up the final couple of steps, huffing and puffing. I bent down to retrieve a small box that sat on the welcome mat next to my front door before going inside. Victorious was an understatement for how excited I was about making it all the way up to my place. I threw my bag and the box down on the coffee table.

  I stripped down right there in my living room, threw my white sneakers to the side, and left my teal scrubs wadded up in the middle of the floor. I lived alone—who the fuck was going to care?

  Being naked in my place was so freeing for some reason. It wasn’t like I was a nudist or anything—I still had on my thong and bra—I just didn’t want to be restricted by work clothes one more minute than necessary. It was nine in the morning and I was walking around my apartment exposed, fixing to fill up a giant glass of wine, and sink into a tub filled with lilac bubbles.

  With a full-to-the-brim glass of pinot grigio, I sank down onto the couch to open the box. I dug my keys out of my purse and sliced open the tape. The smell was what hit me first, then I saw the blood that was everywhere. In the small white box was a poorly wrapped head of a dead cat. I threw the package across the room and rushed to the kitchen sink. Hurling into the stainless steel, my mind started racing.

  How did he find me again?

  Why is this happening to me?

  Why won’t he leave me alone?

  I
thought about calling the police, but I knew they wouldn’t be able to do anything more than what had already been done. I rushed into my bedroom and grabbed the bag under my bed. I got dressed in shorts and an old tank top before I emptied my drawers into the duffel. After doing the same with everything essential in the bathroom, I ran out the door. Ray Clyde was about to run me out of yet another home, but I didn’t know what else to do. I peeled out of my parking spot as fast as I could and just started driving.

  I hated that I was leaving Boston. I had really started to enjoy it, especially since I was finally beginning to know the city and make some friends. I had finally found a good job that I loved, and now that was all flying out the window. Oh well—it was better to be running again than fucking dead.

  I threw my cellphone out the window when I was a few miles down the highway. I knew I needed to check my car for wires, but I needed to get some distance between me and the city before I could calm down enough to do a thorough sweep.

  “Fucking bullshit!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as I slammed my fists into the steering wheel. Tears of rage cascaded down as I fought to be able to see the road. Thankfully it was the middle of the morning and most of the traffic had died down.

  I had no plan, and barely any money left. Where was I going to be able to go to finally be rid of my scum-of-the-earth, crazy, stalker of an ex-boyfriend? The image of the cat head in the box haunted me as I sped down the interstate. At least it wasn’t a dead dove like the last time—doves were my favorite. He knew animals were my weakness, and it seemed he was slowly going to send me corpses of every damn critter on the fucking planet.

  I drove for over twelve hours. Even though my body was crashing, my adrenaline was keeping me going. I was in North Carolina, winding through some of the most breathtaking mountains and foothills I had ever seen.

  My head started to bob as the tiredness took over. I strained to read the sign in front of me: Vilas – 5 miles. I could make it five miles. I started to slap my cheeks lightly, blasted the cold air, cranked up the radio, and bounced in my seat. I was coming in on fumes, but I made it. I pulled off into the gravel parking lot of what looked to be a biker bar. I didn’t care where the fuck I was—I just needed to sleep. I put my car in park, grabbed my sweatshirt from the back seat, reclined my chair, and dozed off.