Bohannon bones mc 2, p.1
Bohannon (Bones MC 2), page 1
Bohannon (Bones MC 2)
Marteeka Karland
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Copyright ©2019 Marteeka Karland
BIN: 009073-02936
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Changeling Press LLC
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www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Katriena Knights
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland
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Table of Contents
Bohannon (Bones MC 2)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Marteeka Karland
Bohannon (Bones MC 2)
Marteeka Karland
Luna: Never in a million years did I think I’d meet up with my childhood hero like this. Beaten down and scared out of my mind, my heart dropped when I realized who had me. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life, but Gage Bohannon the man is even harder to resist than the ridiculous fantasy I’d held on to.
Bohannon: I’ve never kept a woman who didn’t want to be kept. But I’ve made more than one good girl turn rogue. If I had any decency in me at all, I’d have locked her in my room and left her alone. Instead, I’ll take whatever she wants to give me and coax a few things she doesn’t.
Chapter One
Driving the beat-up Ford down the dusty one-lane road at two in the morning was the last place Luna expected to find herself. If she made it out of this without being thrown in prison -- or killed -- she might just kill her brother. Markus had gotten her into this mess with his drug habit and debt. She had a soft heart for her brother, so here she was.
The night seemed to mock her. It was the perfect summer night. A soft breeze under a cloudless sky with stars everywhere. A crescent moon shone above, a golden contrast to the silvery stars. It was cool enough to be comfortable in the humid Kentucky summer, but warm enough she wasn’t damp and cold with the windows of the truck down. Honeysuckle still permeated the air in places. Had she not been in the position she was in, she would have sighed with contentment.
“Quarter mile out.” The CB radio next to her startled Luna so bad, she squealed. That was her signal to turn off her headlights and turn on her emergency flashers. If her brother had been in the truck next to her, she would have shoved him out and made him walk back to town. If she got out of this, she was seriously redefining their relationship.
Without the benefit of headlights, Luna had to go slow. Slower than she was sure the people she was meeting would like. But, damn it, she didn’t know the road! Didn’t have the first idea where she was or how to get out other than the little dirt path she was presently running. Naturally, her first -- and hopefully only -- drug run had to be in completely unfamiliar territory.
Two minutes later, she saw five shadowy figures emerge from the tree line. Another cue. This time, she was to turn off the flashers and kill the motor. She did so, trembling as she placed her hands on top of the steering wheel, gripping the thing in a white-knuckled hold.
Three of the five approached her. Two on her side, one on the passenger’s side. All of them wore ski masks.
“Eyes forward,” one of them snapped. “Keep your hands on the wheel.” They’d told Luna this repeatedly before she’d left. Under no circumstances was she to remove her hands from the top of the steering wheel. If she did, they’d shoot her.
She closed her eyes tightly, willing herself to stay absolutely still. Not to look at her surroundings or the people outside the vehicle. Just a few more minutes and it would all be over. It was her mantra. Like a child trying to get through an unpleasant ordeal. Once done she could go home, take a hot bath, and fall apart where no one could witness.
There was rattling in the truck’s bed as they unlocked the toolboxes and dug around for their “product.” She had no idea exactly what she was hauling, but suspected it was pot or meth. Or both. Probably some kind of opioid ‘cause, you know, might as well contribute to that problem, too.
Two of the three carried their take back to the two waiting at the tree line while the last of the five men kept a steady eye on her, a gun aimed loosely at her. Without meaning to, she let her eyes open and her head automatically turned to the window. Her gaze instantly fell on the beady eyes of the man guarding her. He fixed his gaze on her, making her skin crawl. Immediately, she regretted her action. Especially when he shoved the barrel of his gun sharply against her temple, forcing her head back around to face forward.
“I said eyes forward, bitch,” he snapped.
There was muffled talk around her, and she realized there were probably more men than she’d originally seen. Which meant she was in even deeper shit than she suspected. To make matters worse, their voices were rising in anger with every second.
“You said there’d be twice as much smack! I can’t take this back to Handlebar! He would have my balls, and I wouldn’t blame him!”
“There should be twice as much. I’m going on what Poacher said to expect yesterday. Something must have happened.”
“Something happened, all right,” the guy snapped. “I’m getting cheated’s what happened!” He raised his voice and spoke to someone out of her field of vision. “Check the rest of it! If we’re being fucked, I’ll kill every motherfucker here from this piece of shit club!”
“Poacher would never risk a war with another club. Especially not here.”
“Don’t much care what that bastard would risk. He cheated us, he’ll get a war whether or not he wants one!”
“You don’t understand.” The guy continued to plead his case. “This is Bones territory. If a war starts here, Bones will kill everyone involved just to prove a point.”
“They can try. Crow gave me orders, and he’s not much scared of anyone so I follow orders no matter whose fucking territory I’m in.”
Luna squeezed her eyes shut. Sweat trickled down her neck and between her breasts. There was a very good chance she wasn’t getting out of here alive. Prayers she hadn’t uttered since she was a young child fell from her lips in a whispered mantra.
“There’s half of what we were expecting,” a guy called from the back of the truck. “Who do you want me to kill first?”
Luna knew she needed to keep her head forward, but she couldn’t help but finally open her eyes and glance at the men arguing so close to her.
“Now wait just a Goddamned minute!”
Before the Scars and Bars member could say anything else, a gunshot rang out. A hole blossomed in the center of his forehead, and he collapsed to the ground. Luna was so scared she couldn’t even whimper, knowing death was seconds away. The steel of the gun barrel was hot like a branding iron against her temple. She could almost feel the man holding the gun on her squeezing the trigger…
Another shot rang out. The hand holding the gun on her dropped into the truck with her -- along with the gun it held -- in a hot spray of blood. The guy let out a startled scream that probably had little to do with the sudden trauma and everything to do with the shock of it. Whoever was shooting at them meant business. That had to be one big ass gun to shoot a man’s hand off with a single shot.
All around her, men yelled and shot wildly into the wooded night. She knew better than to move even though her every instinct screamed at her to get the fuck out of there. There was no way of knowing who the new threat was, but they weren’t members of Scars and Bars or the other club. With every shot, with every man who dropped, Luna felt her own death looming. The worst part wasn’t knowing she would die. She’d accepted that when she agreed to do this job for Markus. No. The worst part was knowing every shot that didn’t take her down was a temporary stay of execution. It was torture unlike anything she’d ever imagined.
As suddenly as the fight had begun, it ceased. An eerie hush fell over the night, which was oddly peaceful. If not for the stench of blood all around her. Including on her person. Somewhere in the truck was a bloody hand clenching a gun. Luna wanted to get out of the vehicle and run into the woods where no one could find her. Except she had the feeling whoever had just executed these men were at home in the woods.
On cue, several shadowy figures appeared, rifles in hand, moving like a military unit. They checked every body they came upon, sometimes putting another bullet into those they passed. Until they reached her truck.
Luna only thought she was terrified before. Now, she trembled all over. Sweat now ran in rivulets down her face and neck to her chest, wetting the tank top she wore.
This was it. This was how she died. As she reflected on her choice to be here, she didn’t know if it was worth it. Sure, she’d saved Markus’s life -- for now -- but at the expense of her own. If she knew he’d learn from this and her sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain, she’d say yes, it was definitely worth her life to save her brother’s. Luna knew he wouldn’t learn, though. He’d be right back in the same shape in a month or two. Maybe sooner. So, yes, she was bitter about it. Not that there was anything to she could do about it now. She’d just accept her fate and hope there was a heaven and that she’d be allowed into it.
* * *
Gage Bohannon swept the area for more of the unwelcomed club in Bones territory. The local club had gotten hit first, but Bones had finished all of them. By his reckoning, any club selling drugs in their territory deserved whatever they got. Bones was many things, but they weren’t drug dealers, pimps, or a distributor of firearms. They weren’t law-abiding citizens -- as evidenced by the slaughter tonight -- but they weren’t scum of the earth either.
“One alive in the truck,” Deadeye’s voice came through the earpiece connected to his radio. “Female. Her hands are still on the steering wheel, which is why I left her alive. There is a gun in the vehicle with her. Along with the hand holding it. Orders?”
“Hold. If she moves her hands or in any way attempts to get that gun, shoot her.”
“Copy.” He hated giving Deadeye an order to kill a woman, but he wasn’t compromising anyone’s safety. They’d started this. They’d finish it.
“Keep your hands on that fucking steering wheel,” he bit out. “Don’t fucking test me or the sniper on you will kill you before I ever give the order.” The girl whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut but otherwise didn’t move. “Are you armed?”
She took a deep breath, but didn’t let go of the wheel or open her eyes. “There’s a gun on the floor around my feet somewhere, but that’s it. And it wasn’t mine. I think the owner left his hand with the gun.”
“Good,” he said. “You told the truth about that weapon. Are there any others? Knives? Anything?”
“No, sir.” Her voice wavered in her fear. Again, that was good. She understood the danger she was in.
“What club do you represent? You don’t have colors of any kind. Are you a member? A chaser? An ole lady?” Bohannon had a funny feeling at the nape of his neck. A prickly sensation he knew never to ignore. He didn’t think there was danger or his brothers would have known it. It was the girl. Something about her…
“My brother owes Scars and Bars money for drugs. I’m here in his stead. My service for his life.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m not with them in any way, nor do I want to be. I just want to get out of this alive so I can tell my brother to go to hell.” Fear was making her brave. It surprised Bohannon how much he liked that. It made him want to smile when the circumstances didn’t exactly call for it.
“Keep your hands on the wheel until I open the door. I want you to step out. Keep your hands up and open. Keep it slow. Do you understand?”
“I’m scared, not stupid,” she snapped, then immediately winced. “Sorry.”
Bohannon opened the door to the truck, his gun firmly aimed at her head. If she so much as twitched, he’d kill her himself, saving Deadeye the grief. The girl moved carefully, as he’d instructed. Deliberately. She knew she was in danger. Knew not to fuck with them. That knowledge would make life easier on all of them. The overhead light on the old Ford was long out so there wasn’t much of her features he could see.
She uncurled her fingers from the steering wheel slowly, keeping her hands open and at the same level. One leg slid out to place her foot on the ground. Then the other. All the while she never once looked at him. Fear was etched in every move she made. Sweat ran down her arms in streams as if she’d just stepped from a shower.
Once outside, she stood still, hands still in front of her, fingers splayed wide. Bohannon shut the door with a sharp shove of his hand.
“Turn around. Hands on the truck.”
She did as told, not hesitating in the least. Her willingness to comply with orders surprised Bohannon. Most mules were just as stubborn as their namesakes. This one seemed more resigned than anything else. She acted as if she had nothing to hide. Maybe she didn’t. Or, more likely, she hoped to use her wiles to get herself out of a jam.
As he carefully patted her down for weapons, Bohannon couldn’t help but notice her as a woman. She was slight in stature; barely over five feet and svelte of frame. He tried to be as non-personal as possible, but it was difficult when the swell of her breast was just above his palm as he checked her belly for weapons against her skin. His hands were big, and she was so tiny his palm nearly spanned her from side to side yet the curve of her ass was fleshy and rounded, made to tempt a man.
But he was Gage Bohannon. His club name had been Slayer before his brothers sought to mellow him after that stupid TV show became popular, calling him by his last name because the lead character’s name was the same. He might enjoy women, might be tempted to do wicked things with the forbidden female from time to time, but he was always in complete control of himself. Now was no exception. She was tempting, true enough. But he had a job to do.
Except his cock had other ideas. Bohannon swore to himself, easily envisioning grinding his hardening erection against that savory ass. He could tell she was affected by his nearness. Either she wasn’t adept at staying in control or, more likely, she thought to tempt him with sex. If she did, he’d oblige her. Then take her to his president anyway.
“What are you going to do with me?” Her voice shook, her fear obvious, yet she stayed put, not turning or looking over her shoulder.
“Take you back to our president. We’ll discuss the events of the evening then decide what to do next.” Not that he needed to give her an explanation.
“Will you kill me?”
“Only if Cain orders it.”
She whimpered, her body trembling beneath his touch. She was truly scared, not trying to garner his attention. She hadn’t offered herself. Hadn’t made an overt move of aggression or seduction. So what was her game?
“What can I do to stay alive?”
Bohannon thought about that. What could she do? “Depends on what Cain decides. If you’re looking to convince someone of your innocence, it will be him. I warn you, though, he never goes easy on clubs doing business in our territory without permission. Anything he does to you will be to send a message to Scars and Bars.”
“I don’t mean anything to them. If he wants leverage on Scars and Bars he won’t get it with me. I’m only here to protect my brother.”
“Your fate is in Cain’s hands,” he said. “Accept it. And whatever you do, tell the truth. If you lie, he’ll know. You won’t get a second chance.”
She turned to look at him then. Just a movement of her head, her long midnight hair falling over the other shoulder. When those intensely dark eyes met his, glittering like onyx in the moonlight, Bohannon nearly doubled over as a punch of lust hit him low and mean. He couldn’t see her clearly, but there was something disturbing and familiar about her.
“You have to understand, I have nothing to do with the club. My brother owes them drug money. They used me to pay his debt by hauling their… product here.”
Bohannon fought off his instinct, which was to comfort and protect her. If ever a female needed protection it was this one. Such a small woman in the middle of a biker war? She was doomed from the beginning. Ruthlessly, he took her wrists and zip-tied them behind her back. “Answer any question Cain asks you truthfully and completely. That’s the best advice I can give you.”
“And if he doesn’t ask me anything? If he’s already decided?” Her eyes swam with unshed tears. Her skin glistened with sweat.
