The Biker's Plaything (Straight to Hell MC Book 1), Sam Crescent [story reading .txt] 📗

EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright©2021 Sam Crescent and Stacey Espino

 ISBN: 978-0-3695-0327-5

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Audrey Bobak

ALLRIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorizedreproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.  No part of this book may be used orreproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in thecase of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction.All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actualevents, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirelycoincidental.

THE BIKER’SPLAYTHING

Straight toHell MC, 1

Sam Crescent and Stacey Espino

Copyright© 2021

Chapter One

“No, please, no!”The sound of the rat’s squeal filled the air. Seeing as he was standing in hisown grave, which Lord had made him dig himself, there was no one to hear.

“You defied ourlaws. I can’t have that.”

“I’m sorry, Lord.I didn’t know what I was doing. It was a mistake. I’ll do anything. I’m so sorry.”

“Anything?” Lordasked.

“Yes. Please. Anything.”

Lord smiled. “Kissmy feet.”

“What?”

“You heard me.Kiss my fucking feet.”

The hole was bigenough for the rat to still reach his boots. He waited. As soon as his lipswere close, Lord kicked out, hitting him hard in the face. The man fell back,cupping his jaw, blood flowing between his fingers.

His men alllaughed.

They knew themoment a rat was declared, the only sure thing was death.

“Please, whatabout my daughter? She’s not responsible. Please.”

“Don’t worry. Allywill get the right treatment owed to her by the club. You really should havethought about that before doing what you did.” Pulling out his gun, which heonly used to take out rats in the club, he fired one bullet, and it wentstraight through the man’s head.

He was already inhis grave and Lord nodded. Justice had been served. His men clapped theirhands, all of them happy with the way this ended.

Brick, his VP, cameto him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Lord didn’t like to be touched andshrugged him off. The men knew not to put a hand on him.

“I want the copnext,” Lord said.

The rat, Richard Prixman, had been an accountant of sorts, working at theclub’s strip joints. Not only had the son of a bitchbeen stealing from him, but he’d also decided to use their records to try tobring a case against the club. As if he’d ever allow that to happen.

The club was hislife. He protected everyone.

“Get the prospectsto clean this shit up.” He kicked some mud at the dead face. “It’s a shame wecouldn’t mount his head on a spike to serve as a warning to anyone tempted toturn their backs on us.”

Leaving his messbehind, Lord made his way to the club. One of the club whoreswas at the bar, cleaning out a glass. He nodded for her to pour him a shot, whichshe did without question.

After knocking itback, he headed to the parking lot where his bike was ready and waiting.

“You’re not goingon your own,” Brick said.

“This is my job.”

“Take Reaper withyou. I’ll handle shit here.”

He glared atBrick. “You think I need a babysitter?”

“No, but you do needsomeone to rein in your anger. Do as you’re asked, please,” Brick said.

Lord raised his brow.

Brick held hishands up. “I don’t mean no disrespect. You know that.”

“Do I? The way Isee it, my VP thinks he can tell me what to do.”

“Advise you. That’sit. I don’t want you to hurt yourself or worse, do something you might regret.”

“He’s right,”Reaper said. “You fucking know it, boss.”

He looked betweenhis men. His temper was well known, especially when it came to defending theclub, and right now, killing the rat hadn’t satisfied his hunger. When one ofhis informants called a week ago, he thought it was a joke. It wasn’t. Someone wantedto end his club, and it wasn’t the first time. Between fighting for turf and endingclubs himself through wars, he was used to always looking over his shoulder. Whenit came to an insider willing to take on him and his club, well, he couldn’t havethat. The betrayal was too close to home, and it didn’t help that it had been RichardPrixman. He’d helped that son of a bitch get the job and this was how he got repaid? He was pissed off. No, he was furious.

Usually, killing theperson responsible for his shit mood helped to improveit, but it had only made him angrier. He was pissed offand ready to kill even more people.

“Then hurry the fuck up. We know this piece of shitis waiting at a barn out in the middle of nowhere. I don’t have time to waste.”He clicked his fingers. “Oh, and get the rat’s daughterhere too.”

“You know Ally doesn’tlive with him. She declared emancipation from him when she was fifteen. The girl’sbeen living on her own ever since,” Brick said.

He didn’t allowhimself to get embroiled with his workers’ business. Richard had issues, he gotthat, but didn’t they all? As far as he was concerned, his only regret was notkilling the daughter first, so the rat could have watched her die.

Every one of themen at the club had issues, but he didn’t hold their hands or ask them about theirproblems. Instead, he liked to stick to the good, old, reliable method of not giving a shit.

“Just do it. Youknow how this works.”

“Fine. We’ll bringher in.”

Climbing on hisbike, he allowed the purr to sink into his senses. The scent of oil, theleather, the roar, it was all sweet magic, but it still didn’t do enough tostem his need for blood. Gripping the handlebars, he revved the engine, notwaiting for his enforcer to get ready. He was out of there. He didn’t need a sitter.

Taking the openroad, he knew this was where he belonged. For many years, he’d been wanderingthrough life, fighting, hunting, and trying to find himself, when he discoveredhis place right here in this very club, Straight to Hell MC. It had once been ownedby a man who went by King. He’d been the one to rule this place, to have his menbow down at his feet, but greed had set him on a path of destruction. If ithadn’t been for Lord, they’d all be dead, rotting in their graves.