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Kane: Grim Riders MC Series, #2
Kane: Grim Riders MC Series, #2
Kane: Grim Riders MC Series, #2
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Kane: Grim Riders MC Series, #2

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Addison thought that he was trouble. 

And maybe he was, this mystery man who showed up at the coffee shop every day, just to see me. 

But if he was trouble, then I wanted every piece of it. 

Tall, handsome, and tattooed, Kane was unlike anyone I'd ever been with.  

I just never realized the kind of trouble he could cause me. 

But as long as he was there to save me, where was the harm… right?

I just hoped he was there in time. 

LanguageEnglish
PublisherMB
Release dateAug 22, 2019
ISBN9781393254980
Kane: Grim Riders MC Series, #2

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    Book preview

    Kane - Molly Black

    Chapter 1

    Kane

    Get My Free MC Book For A Limited Time

    Iglanced around the parking lot as I took off my motorcycle helmet, running my fingers through my hair and mussing it back to its normal look. Everyone else’s bikes were already there from what I could see, including Otis’s. That should have made me nervous; Otis, my father, was president of the Grim Riders MC, and he had the power to kick me out if he wanted to.

    But he wouldn’t kick me out. It would look stupid for him to do that after he had practically just brought me into the club. And besides, it wasn’t like I didn’t have a reason for being late. I couldn’t help it.

    Still, I hurried a little as I crossed the parking lot, slipping quietly into the clubhouse and trying to blend in at the back as though I’d been there all along. Fortunately, there were quite a few members there that day, including guys who didn’t always come to all the meetings, guys who were more like part-time members of the club.

    It was still weird to me that there were guys who were only sometimes invested in the club. They didn’t handle a lot of the day-to-day business of collecting dues or anything like that; they had too much other stuff on their plates, but they were always around for a weekend ride or a night at the bar. Or, theoretically, if we needed their help pushing back against the Savages, our rival club here in Greenboro.

    To me, though, this was my whole life. I was prepared to give them one hundred percent. Growing up, I’d wanted to be just like my brother, Dax. Now that I was finally in the club, I was willing to do whatever it took to ensure I got to stay a member of the club.

    Otis knew that. And it was another reason why he would never kick me out.

    But he turned his steely gaze on me as I slipped in behind a couple of the other guys. What the hell do you think you’re doing? he asked me before I could take a seat.

    I froze, realizing everyone in the room was staring at me. I shrugged. I’m here for the meeting, I said, trying not to sound too cheeky when I told him that.

    His eyes narrowed at me. You think you can just walk into the meeting whenever you want to? he snapped. Just breeze in here like there’s nothing you’ve missed, like we were just waiting for you before we got started?

    Of course not, I said. I picked out my brother in the crowd and jerked my chin at him. I’m sure Dax can fill me in. But I couldn’t help being late. There was—

    Otis didn’t let me finish, though. I don’t want to hear it, he interrupted coldly. You’ve been telling me for ages now how much being part of this club means to you, but you’re definitely not showing me that. Being in this club is about a lot more than getting the job done. Your brothers in the club need to know they can count on you. That you’re going to be there if they need your help. But if you can’t even be bothered to show up to meetings on time, how can they ever know if you’ll be there for them?

    It’s not that I couldn’t be bothered to show up on time, I protested. I had a reason. Something came up.

    Michael, what would have happened to Jack if ‘something had come up’ with you back when the Misthawks were trying to take over our territory? Otis asked, but he didn’t wait for a reply before turning back to me, his eyes narrowing. You’re walking on thin ice here, and don’t you forget it. I’m still not sure you’re ready to be part of this club. It’s about time you proved to me that you are.

    I stared at him for a long moment, but I knew that arguing with him wasn’t going to get me anywhere. Finally, I nodded slowly and sank down into a seat. I was pissed off, to be honest. There was no reason for him to humiliate me in front of the whole group like that. If he had a problem with me, why not pull me aside at the end of the meeting and talk to me then?

    Instead, he had made sure that everyone knew I was on thin ice. What a way to inspire confidence in the fact that I belonged in the club.

    I glanced over at Dax. He was the only other person in the club—in the world—who knew what it was like to grow up with Otis as a father. If there was anyone who would commiserate with me, it was him. I tried to catch his attention, hoping that I could roll my eyes at him, get a small shrug in response, and at least feel that the unfairness of it all was acknowledged, but Dax was staring straight ahead, concentrating on what Otis was saying, and after a moment, I gave an internal sigh and turned my gaze in that direction too.

    Otis was going on about our projects for the week, assigning everyone their tasks. But there was one person he didn’t assign anything to, and it made my blood boil even further. As soon as he wrapped up the meeting and people started filing out, I leaped to my feet and strode to the front of the room. So what, it wasn’t enough to yell at me in front of everyone; now I don’t get work until I’ve proved to you that I can be on time for meetings? I asked angrily. Or is this your way of kicking me out without looking bad about it—you just give me no work until I get frustrated and quit?

    Otis gave me a mild look. Actually, you’re going to be working with Victor this week, he said. You’re not always going to work on your own in this club. And if you’d been here on time, like you were supposed to be, you would have heard all about it since that’s the project I started with.

    I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering if he was bluffing or not. But Victor was there waiting next to me, and I was forced to admit it probably was my fault I didn’t know what my task for the week was. If he was trying to make me feel guilty, though, he was going about it in entirely the wrong way. Instead, I just felt more and more frustrated with the situation since, again, it wasn’t like I had been trying to be late.

    I meant what I said, though, about you being on thin ice. Otis turned to Victor. I want to know if he’s late this week, or if he makes a single mistake.

    Victor nodded gravely at him. I barely suppressed my noise of disgust, finally starting to realize how serious Otis was about possibly kicking me out. I still didn’t believe he would go that far, but I wasn’t willing to risk it, either.

    So what are we doing this week anyway? I asked Victor as Otis finally headed back into his office, shutting the door firmly behind himself. I knew that Otis was president of the club and that my brother Dax was a protector, but I didn’t know what the rest of the guys did yet. I knew a lot of the guys; I had gone out for drinks with them and Dax in the past, but I wasn’t allowed to know anything about club business before I’d become a member of the club.

    You know that a lot of the club’s business is personal protection for people who think someone’s got a hit out on them, Victor started.

    Right, I said. Dax is a protector; he’s one of the guys making sure that those guys get the protection they’re paying for. I frowned. So is that what we’re doing this week? Protecting one of those guys? I didn’t see why there would need to be two of us on a task like that, but maybe Dad didn’t trust me to do something like that on my own yet. Or maybe we were going to be taking shifts, like he would shadow the guy during the day and I would be there at night?

    Not exactly, Victor said. When those guys come to us for protection, one of the big things we have to figure out first is whether or not they’re legitimate.

    You mean, whether or not they’re really in any danger? I asked, frowning.

    No, we don’t care about that, Victor said, grinning at me. As long as they pay their bill, we don’t care if we ever have to defend them or not. In fact, as boring as it sometimes gets, we would prefer not to have to get into any sort of altercation. Basically, then we get paid for the least amount of work and the least amount of risk.

    Fair enough, I said. So what makes someone legitimate or not?

    We’re not exactly a secret organization, Victor said. The local law enforcement generally looks the other way as long as we give them a cut of our business every year and as long as we don’t really stir up trouble. But that immunity only lasts so long. He smiled sharply. Usually until the next election cycle.

    I snorted. Okay. So we need to figure out if they really want our protection or if they’re some police bait?

    "That’s one of the possibilities. We also have to ensure that they have the means to pay us, that they’re willing to pay us, that sort of thing. And we try to get as much information about them in advance as we can so that whoever ends up being their protector, when it comes to that stage, knows what they need to do and what they’re protecting against."

    That makes sense, I said, nodding at him. So who’s our target this week?

    He’s a new client. A defense attorney. I could tell from Victor’s tone exactly what he thought about that.

    You think this is a setup, I surmised.

    Go on, Victor said encouragingly. What kind of setup could he have planned?

    I frowned, thinking it over. He could frame us, I finally guessed. He could have us ‘protect’ him against someone, have us beat the guy up or even kill him, and then turn around and have us put in jail.

    A possibility, Victor agreed. He shrugged. But there are plenty of other possibilities, aren’t there?

    I nodded slowly. I guess so.

    "Or he could just want our help, Victor reminded me. A defense attorney is bound to have plenty of enemies."

    Why not go to the cops, then? I asked. Wouldn’t that be the right thing to do?

    Victor snorted. You know how corrupt the cops are around here. They’ve got their own agenda. He paused. I’ve been doing some looking into this particular DA, and it sounds like he’s probably not too friendly with the local law enforcement. Seems he doesn’t always put the bad guys behind bars like he’s supposed to.

    "Ah, I said, things suddenly making sense. So he turns to us for protection because he’s afraid the cops might be the ones who want him dead?"

    Maybe, Victor said, nodding his head toward me. Or he may be in cahoots with them and trying to bring us down. He paused. The key thing to remember, anytime you’re dealing with a lawyer, is that if he’s a rat, he’s going to do his best to hide his agenda from us. He’ll know that we suspect him, and he’ll do his best to trick us. We have to make sure we see through all the bullshit.

    And that’s our job for the week, I said. We have to make sure this isn’t a setup. It still felt sort of like a punishment, not having my own task to work on this week, but at the same time, I supposed there was a lot I could learn from working with Victor. Not only that, but this was a pretty important job, too. If we determined that this guy wasn’t a threat to the Grim Riders, a protector would be placed with him. If it turned out that we were wrong, it could spell disaster for whoever that was.

    Actually, the more I thought about it, the more excited I was. What better way to prove to Otis that I was ready to be part of the club?

    Where do we get started? I asked Victor.

    Chapter 2

    Brea

    YET ANOTHER MONDAY, yet another day of work. But unlike some people who dreaded their Monday mornings, I enjoyed mine. I walk over to the coffee shop early, when hardly anyone was awake, put on a little music, and get everything ready for when the first customers started trickling in around seven thirty. Usually, I came in on Sunday afternoons to make up some sort of baking dough so that I could get something in the oven early on Monday, the scents wafting through the shop and drawing people in.

    There was always a rush around eight or eight-thirty with people on their way to work, and then things would taper off and we’d get more of the hang out crowd: the people who came in with their laptops, or the students with their textbooks who just chilled there for an hour or two doing work and sipping lattes.

    The place was cozy like that. We had a lot of regulars, people who came in two or three times a week, and that was just nice, in a way that warmed me inside.

    And the whole place was mine.

    This morning, my sister, Addison, was there with me to help out. When we had first started working together, everyone had told us all about how you shouldn’t do business with family and how it was sure to be a disaster. I don’t know what they thought was going to happen, but things had yet to go sour. Addison was a great help around the shop, and I tried to be a flexible, relaxed boss for her. We had never really had any problems, either at the shop or in our personal lives.

    She was a few years older than me, but we had never had any sibling rivalry, and we had always been close. She was my best friend now, hands down, and I loved that I could spend time with her here at my shop.

    "Hey, are

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