Declan royal bastards mc.., p.1
Declan: Royal Bastards MC: Flagstaff Chapter (Book 2),
p.1
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Published in the United States of America.
Declan: Royal Bastards MC Flagstaff Chapter (Book 2)
Copyright 2020 Maura O’Brien
Cover by Jay Aheer
Paperback formatted by Dark Water Covers
Edited: Edits by Erin
ISBN: 978-1953088-05-5
ROYAL BASTARDS CODE
PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else, and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.
RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.
HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.
OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member or brother’s Ol’Lady. PERIOD.
CHURCH is MANDATORY.
LOYALTY: Takes precedence over all, including well-being.
HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.
TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.
TRUST: Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.
NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.
ROYAL BASTARDS MC SERIES SECOND RUN
E.C. Land: Cyclone of Chaos
Chelle C. Craze & Eli Abbot: Ghoul
Scarlett Black: Ice
Elizabeth Knox: Rely On Me
J.L. Leslie: Worth the Risk
Deja Voss: Lean In
Khloe Wren: Blaze of Honor
Misty Walker: Birdie’s Biker
J. Lynn Lombard: Capone’s Chaos
Ker Dukey: Rage
Crimson Syn: Scarred By Pain
M. Merin: Declan
Elle Boon: Royally F**ked
Rae B. Lake: Death and Paradise
K Webster: Copper
Glenna Maynard: Tempting the Biker
K.L. Ramsey: Whiskey Tango
Kristine Allen: Angel
Nikki Landis: Devil’s Ride
KE Osborn: Luring Light
CM Genovese: Pipe Dreams
Nicole James: Club Princess
Shannon Youngblood: Leather & Chrome
Erin Trejo: Unbreak Me
Winter Travers: Six Gun
Izzy Sweet & Sean Moriarty: Broken Ties
Jax Hart: Desert Rose
Royal Bastards MC Facebook Group - https://www.facebook.com/groups/royalbastardsmc/
Links can be found in our Website: www.royalbastardsmc.com
Declan
Royal Bastards MC
Flagstaff Chapter
Book 2
Thank you:
To my husband, for patiently waiting for me to emerge from my writing cave.
To my cheerleaders. My ‘team’, whose friendship I truly value.
To my fellow Royal Bastards’ authors, for making this one hell of a ride!
Contents
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
Featured Characters
Additional works from M. Merin
Prologue
Three years ago
Jenna
“Pick up the goddamn phone, Clive!” I yell into my stepfather’s voicemail. “I’m heading there now.”
Enough of this. Mom’s death last month came out of nowhere for me, and I’m not entirely sure that was her trying to spare me or her husband trying to keep us apart. He was thrilled when I was accepted into an exclusive school for dancers around the same time that their son, Justin, was born, but I have tried to be a good big sister, even if it’s mostly over FaceTime.
Before that, I had been staying with my grandparents. They lived closer to the dance academy I needed to attend in hopes of catching the eye of anyone serious in the dance world.
Now, I have a full ride to Julliard and only a short period of time to see my brother before I leave. My grandmother’s words sent me into full panic mode last night, so as soon as I woke up, I grabbed the keys for my grandfather’s car and headed out.
Grandda passed a good four years ago but grandmother has kept his car in working order. Unfortunately, it sounds like she’s watched over their cars better than she paid attention to mom’s health or Justin’s well-being.
Pulling up to the house mom died in, I’m surprised at all the cars in the driveway this early in the day. Walking up to the door, a rough looking man, who looks to be in his mid-thirties, opens the door and walks out; he reaches out to squeeze my boob when he passes, without saying a word.
I’m too shocked to even scream and everything goes downhill from there.
In the living room, there are two guys having sex with a girl that’s strapped down as my stepfather walks around them with a video camera; there’s some kind of gag holding her mouth open but her screams don’t sound like the happy kind.
My heart is fit to beat out of my chest as I sneak, so far unnoticed, down the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. Coming to Justin’s room first, I’m horrified that he’s in a dirty pajama top and underwear. He’s sitting in front of a TV watching a video of mom—telling him to be a good boy for his daddy. In the recording, she’s a mere shadow of the woman that raised me and seems to be in a haze.
Looking around the room, the smell makes my stomach roll as I see a race car bed pushed against one wall and two video cameras aimed towards it.
“Justin!” I say in a voice barely above a whisper, causing him to jump, his eyes getting wide when he sees me. “I’m your sister, Jenna, do you remember me?”
“From the video,” he says after a moment. He looks over my shoulder to the hallway and I close the door, wishing I had a way to prop it shut.
“Is there anything you want to bring with you to go visit grandma?” I ask next and he runs to get a stuffed dinosaur, not saying another word. I cross to what I hope is the closet and pull out a handful of clothes but freeze when I hear voices in the hallway. Turning to the window, I open it and pop my head out before looking back at him. “Let’s have a little fun, huh? Sneak out the window?”
Moments later, as I’m carrying my brother and running across the lawn to Grandda’s car, I still don’t have the first clue as to what I’m in for.
After a morning spent over happy meals and a toy store, I gradually get tidbits of his life, and it’s enough to set my stomach churning. Getting back to Grandmother’s house, I put him down for a nap and sit down to have a long talk with her.
The story is as difficult for me to relate as it is for her to hear.
She gives me the cash she has on hand and decides that I should take Justin to a nearby hotel while she calls Child Protective Services. I’m in the garage, getting my sleepy brother into the car when the doorbell rings.
My heart starts beating like mad, but Grandmother opens the door before I can call out to her. Two men push their way in and start threatening her, ransacking the house as I slowly close the door to the garage and lock it—buying us precious seconds to escape.
As I’m driving away from the blazing inferno that had been my grandparent’s house less than thirty-minutes before, I can’t believe the turn my life has taken.
*
I’ve never regretted a second of it, not even after these years on the run.
Chapter 1
Declan
Pulling up to The Office, the strip club our Chapter runs, I park next to where Diesel and Throttle are standing outside shooting the shit.
“Hey, Prez!” Throttle calls out. “I don’t mind handling the interviews for you today.”
“There’s a subtlety to it, you pups wouldn’t understand,” I say, letting out a rusty bark of laughter and drag a hand through my tangled hair. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind sending Hazel back to me; I could do with getting my dick sucked before the interviews.”
I ignore th
Hazel knocks on the door—as everyone here knows to do—and I settle into my own chair behind the desk, releasing my dick before I give her permission to come in. She knows the score by now and starts tearing open the condom right after she locks the door behind her.
Not a word is exchanged between us; as soon as she gets the condom on me, I simply rest my head back and let her mouth go to work.
“Good girl,” I grunt out after I come, filling the condom. “Guys treating you alright?”
“Yeah, boss. Um, I’ve been kinda going out with someone for a couple weeks now. If it keeps going…”
“I hear ya, Haz. If he ain’t good to ya, you need to tell me.” I grin at her as I tie off the condom and pass her to go clean up in my private bathroom, slightly frustrated that I’ll have to find a new girl who’ll respect what I want. “Anyone I know?”
“Um, he manages the grocery store over in Prescott. He’s got a daughter about my girl’s age, so he’s been cool with her but I can tell he’s still nervous about me being, um, a dancer.”
I grunt again, not remembering the last time we exchanged so many words. “That why you asked for day shifts this week?”
“Oh, no, my ma went to Vegas with some of her friends so I didn’t want to, um, bother people with watching Nessa every night.” She looks nervous and I can’t figure out why’s she still here.
“Anything else?” I ask when she hesitates near the door.
“I’m still up for the spot when the Prescott club opens, right?”
“I didn’t understand why you wanted it until now—it’ll be slower than this location, y’know?” I confirm, turning to my computer so she’ll get the hint that I’m busy. There are headaches that come with expanding, of course, but once the girls that Lean is sending from his now-closed Pittsburgh clubs get their asses down here, I’ll have a better idea of how many new hires I’ll need. ‘Cause none of the girls moving to Arizona are going to work in one of our new clubs until I see how they do with customers.
“I know and I’m bummed most of my friends from here are going to move down to the new club north of Phoenix, but life goes on, I guess. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t pissed about no more BJs,” she says, shrugging.
“Hazel, I’m not in the habit of taking what hasn’t been offered—or another man’s piece. You’ve got a job as long as you want one, now, I’ve got shit to get done if I’m going to get those clubs open in time,” I say, shooing her away and rolling my eyes at the relieved smile on her face.
Jesus Christ. She made herself available from the day she walked in here, and yeah, a couple times a month I have her relieve me, but as a dancer she’s dependable as hell and a crowd favorite. I’d be a stupid motherfucker not to see the value in that.
And I ain’t a stupid motherfucker, I think as I open the safe to pull out the ledger that’ll have last night’s take in it.
Those nuns who raised me had big plans for what my future would be like. I smiled and nodded, kept my grades up then walked out the door the day I knew there was nothing more of value they could teach me.
Well, that, and I got caught fucking a novice. I still only know the name of the saint whose name she’d taken—Agnes. That stuck with me ‘cause Saint Agnes was all about chastity and purity, and that girl wasn’t into either.
Made my way around the country until I ended up in Pennsylvania for a time—well, long enough to get patched into the Royal Bastards that is. I bark out a laugh at the shit Brass and I used to get into back there.
He’s one mental son-of-a-bitch and no one I’d rather have prospected with or to have watching my back. Damn, if Wolfman ever got a look at Brass’ collection of medieval torture devices, I’d lose him in a second.
“Prez, you in there?” Throttle yells, making me realize I’ve been zoned out and missed his knock.
“Yeah!” I call back and he opens the door.
“Most the girls that signed up for interviews are here, I’m gonna start sending them back.” Frowning at me, he asks, “You okay?”
“Golden.”
“Golden oldie, more like it.” He laughs and turns away before I can throw anything at him.
The first woman who comes back is probably mid-thirties even though her application reads twenty-seven. I smirk at her as she arranges herself on the chair in front of me and immediately opens her top, showing off floral tattoos circling her areolas.
Eight interviews later and I’m considering turning this process over to Throttle in the future. Anyone who thinks running a strip club is fun, is out of their goddamn mind.
I’ve seen everything. Nothing’s new or exciting to me anymore—the older women know that as well as I do—but they also know, it isn’t just about their tits. I want to hire the kind of women who can entice the customers to spend money, so we’ll all be better off.
“We got one more, Declan,” Throttle says, sticking his head in as the final girl is leaving. “She says she knows Arabia.”
“Is she worth my time?” I ask, popping aspirin without looking up.
“Without a doubt,” he instantly replies, holding up all ten fingers when I shift my eyes to him.
A flick of my hand has him turning back into the hallway so fast he doesn’t get a chance to register the surprised look on my face. I’ve always assumed his rating system topped out at seven.
“Prez, this is Jenna,” comes Throttle’s voice from behind her as she walks in.
Fuck.
Christ.
I look between her and Throttle and wonder if it’s a joke.
“How fucking old are you?” I nearly yell, shooting a glare over the vision’s shoulder to where Throttle is staring down at her ass.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing: her sandy brown hair, ivory skin, or the flash of her bright blue eyes when she sneaks a glance up at me.
“I’m twenty,” she whispers, a blush hitting her face.
“I checked her ID,” Throttle says, sounding defensive. “She’s five feet, six inches and a hundred…”
“Do you mind?” The vision turns on him, gracefully waving a hand in frustration.
“Close the door behind you,” I bark out at Throttle, enjoying the surprised look on his face. He knows it’s rare that I close the door with a woman in here and it was already closed once today.
She turns her gaze back to me as soon as the door is closed, and I’m surprised to see that her eyes are more violet than blue. She sticks her hand out to me, “I’m Jenna Walker, um, Tyler. Sorry, I’m nervous.”
I take her delicate hand in my large, rough one solely to pull her over to me, instantly knowing that the chair on the other side of the desk is too far away. Pushing her up against the edge, I sit back down in my leather chair and look up at her.
Jenna’s blush deepens as I study her, enjoying her hourglass shape as her breathing picks up and her breasts push against her button-down shirt. Her light brown hair is long and wavy, making it easy for me to imagine it in pigtails up on stage.
The only problem is, I can tell she’s all wrong for this place.
“Where’ve you danced before?” I bark out.
“I have nearly twelve years of dance experience…”
“Where have you stripped before?”
“Stripped. Well, I haven’t. But…” She’s obviously ready for this question and I know I need to keep her on her toes.
“You do understand this is a strip club? That I’m looking for women with great tits who want to use those to make us both money?” I growl, leaning forward and getting a whiff of her. A lilac scent, maybe.
“Obviously. Look, I teach poll dancing over at The Studio—you know, the woman’s workout gym? It’s considered an exercise class nowadays, so anyway, I met An… I mean Arabia over there and she told me about the money and that you guys are decent.” Jenna stops suddenly, fisting her hands at her side until she realizes that her body language is all wrong. Interesting. The girl needs this job; I think, grinning when she takes a deep breath and wills herself to relax her frame. “I can actually dance and am crazy good on the pole. Could you at least let me audition?”
