Sharing Freedom

By Harley McRide

Warning: For Mature Adult Audiences. Contains language and actions some may deem offensive. Ménage – MFM.
In book one of the Ops Warriors MC: Freedom's life is destroyed in less than five minutes. Alone in the world, she is forced to find her own way while trying to stay under the radar of some very dangerous people.
Easy and Poke have found a home in the MC. They enjoy the carefree lifestyle and have no desire to change the way they live. Until they see a redhead in their strip club and she stirs things inside of them—unwelcomed feelings.
Freedom's troubles follow her to the Ops Warriors MC leaving them with decisions to make: protect the woman who has barged into their lives or cut her loose. Decisions interfere with emotions causing hatred and death to break a bond that may never be pieced back together.
Enter the Warriors compound and meet the men who live by their own rules, never apologizing for their choices, but whose loyalties run deep when you are accepted as part of their family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jana Leigh
• Release date: Apr 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310789977

Harley McRide

I was on the back of a bike as soon as I was big enough to hold on. My love of the lifestyle, combined with my experience and imagination drove me to writing.Now that my two kids are grown and off to college, My husband and I enjoy the great outdoors with our three great Danes: Bowser, Killer, and Maddie.I grew up in Illinois, moving from place to place with my single mother until I was twelve. I now call the little town of Arkadelphia, Arkansas home. With it’s small town charm and population just over 10,000, it is the perfect place to hit the open road. When I need to get away, the hot springs are my go to unwind spot located less than thirty minutes from my cabin in the woods

Book preview

Sharing Freedom

Ops Warriors MC

Book One

by Harley McRide

© Copyright April 2014 Harley McRide

Cover art and logo © Copyright April 2014 Harley McRide

All rights reserved.

ISBN-9781310789977 Digital

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Dedication

This is for my husband and my ‘family', who have supported and encouraged me since I said I wanted to write. I would never have been able to do this without my best friends, Mickey and Caro. You guys are my inspiration!

Table of Contents

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Books by Harley McRide

About the Author

Prologue

The sound of feet as they hit the pavement was the only thing that could be heard echoing down the dark lonely road. Her car broke down a few miles back, and she was nowhere far enough away from the ones who would come for her. They would kill her if they found her, and she would be damned if she would go down without a fight.

When she'd graduated from college with her degree in accounting, she had been excited. Her father's business had been her first client, one she had been proud to finally take over. Her family's restaurant had been a staple in the community of Riverton, Nevada for fifty years. Growing up she knew her parents had different views on child rearing; her mother was softer, more caring, while her father was demanding and hard.

The small town had once been on the brink of desertion when a company came in and discovered the small town two hours south of Vegas held something that Sin City didn't-actual gold. The unknown owner had helped rebuild the town to what it was now. She had looked up to her father since she was a small child, seeing him as a super-hero almost. Getting his approval had meant everything to her. The sad part was she had never gotten it, he always told her she was just a female. No matter how hard she worked and tried, he never gave her the praise she desired. He was a cold and unfeeling bastard, and she had been living in a dream world.

However, last night, it had all come crashing down around her when she heard her father agree to turn her over to a man he owed money to as collateral. The man lived in a town across the river in Arizona. Where Riverton was situated, the Colorado River was the border of Nevada and Arizona. On one side sat Riverton and on the other, sat Pinessee.

She had walked into her father's restaurant after closing last night ready to finish the books when she heard her father's voice. She wasn't supposed to be there, but she figured he wouldn't mind, he was probably having a card game with the guys again. But she froze as the words her father was speaking finally filtered through her head.

I just need a little more time. I owe the Diablos too, her father had said.

I don't give a fuck about who else you owe, I have given you more than a year to work this out. You knew when you borrowed the money it was going to come due, a strange man had said.

Leaning around the corner she was hiding behind, she'd had to stifle the scream working its way up her throat as several huge men surrounded her father. Some wore black leather jackets while a few were in short sleeve black t-shirts that outlined the massive chests underneath and with their arms exposed showed the tattoos donning their skin.

I only need a few more weeks. My wife's hospital… her father said, and she frowned. Her father had told her it was okay, her mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer five years ago. She hadn't caught it early enough to save her though. After four years of surgeries and treatments, her mother died just after she had graduated from college.

She'd known the medical bills had been huge, and since they owned their own business, the insurance had eaten up a lot of their profits. But her father had told her he had it under control. The books looked like they had. How had her father hidden that from her?

After looking closer at the jackets, the men were wearing, she had felt a wave of cold flow through her veins. Bikers. She had heard about the clubs that had moved in the area, but only knew to stay away from the dangerous, handsome men. As a teen all girls dream of the rough and sexy boy who was the rebel, but she outgrew that phase and really wanted a more stable man.

I don't need any more excuses, the man snarled, which had caused her to jump. I am gonna need some collateral.

Her father had argued and pled for fifteen minutes but the man had been unwavering. That is when she got the shock of her life and found out just how low her father had sunk.

Your daughter will do.

My daughter, her father said with a shocked tone. The Diablos want her, if I give her to you to hold, will you make sure that nothing happens to her? The others will sell her.

Wait…what…her collateral? What exactly did that mean? In this day and age taking a human for collateral was unheard of, it was like selling her. There was no way her father would allow that. They could hurt her.

Do I look like a fucking hotel? Either the money, or the girl—you pick. But if you give me the girl, she will be ours, and the Devils will own her. Every piece of her, the man said.

Her father had cried, but finally agreed to let them take her, saying they were the lesser of the two evils. She'd wanted to vomit at his response. She had been heartbroken, what the hell had her father gotten into?

There was only one thing she knew…a biker club was going to be after her, because there was no way she would go willingly. She turned on her heels and left, not even looking over her shoulder once. Time and distance, she needed it and quick.

Chapter One

What time is church? Fucking wiring needs redone, Colton ‘Easy’ Strait asked gruffly. His grey eyes focused on the clock above the door. He was leaned back in his chair with his arm thrown over the back, and he looked like he was going to break it. He was huge, bigger now than when he was in the military, since now he had a state of the art gym at the club to use. He kept his dark military style haircut still because the one time he tried to grow it out, the guys said he looked like Bigfoot. He kept his facial hair trimmed and close to his face, so it always looked like he had five o’clock shadow. He stood six feet seven and his arms were bigger than the current stripper’s waist which was dancing for them. Easy’s grey eyes took in everything in the room, even if it didn’t look like it. His tribal tats were what drew the women to him; they extended from one bicep across his back to the other. In the middle of his back was the Ops Warriors’ tat; Warriors were in green and blue—their colors.

When he was growing up his father knew he was going to be big, so he beat the shit out of him while he was still small enough to scare him into thinking his father was in charge. His mother was a small woman who didn’t care enough to stick up for him; she was trying to survive as well. What the old man didn’t realize was that Colton refused to be beat down like that, he wasn’t afraid—he was smart, so he waited until he was big enough, then one night when his father was drunk, Colton showed him just who was stronger. When he enlisted, his father told him not to bother coming home when he failed. He never did.

In an hour, Eric ‘Poke’ Brund replied, looking at the stage in front of him. Poke was the classic drop-dead gorgeous biker. Long black flowing hair, icy blue eyes, muscles in all the right places, and a smooth face that still made him look dangerous. He stood six feet four, and when the men were seen together, which was usually the case, panties grew wet and were dropped right away. His club tat in the middle of his back was the only tat he wore, the only one he wanted—it showed he belonged.

His mother was the town whore; he had no idea who his father was. He learned early not to open his door on nights his mom worked. On other nights, he had to take care of his mother when she shot up to forget her miserable life. He was going nowhere fast; he stole food when he needed, then graduated to bigger things to help pay the bills. When he was caught at seventeen stealing a car, the judge gave him a choice—enlist or go to jail. He signed the enlistment papers, met Colton, and never looked back.

They were the brawn of the club as SGTs of Arms for the Ops Warriors MC, sharing the position, and two of the meanest muther fuckers in Nevada. The leaders of the Warriors had been in the military together. All stationed at the same base in the Middle East, when their time ran out, they had punched out.

At first, they had tried to make it in the ‘real’ world. All of them had issues and couldn’t fit in. The only thing they trusted were the men they served with, they were family. Easy and Poke had stuck together when they got out, moving from place to place. They were security experts, and with their training, they had been able to write their ticket on the outside. However, dealing with civilians was not their thing. They ended up pissing people off when they told them they were dumb fucks for their ideas about security.

Their President, Joel ‘Creed’ Thomas, had grown up in a club, and had let the guys know when he got out he was taking over for his dad. Before he left the base, he told the guys to look him up if they were interested. One by one, they had all come. Fork was first, and then Easy and Poke. The four of them made some calls and soon, even some of the guys who had retired before they began to show up, it led to more people hearing about them, increasing the rep Creed's dad's club already had, making them a force no one wanted to fuck with.

They pooled their retirement together and began the strip club; it was their first business to help contribute to the club's funds. The mysterious rumors of killing people for their money had only added to their reps. Of course, only one of them were true and the asshole had owed them the money, but who cared. When people looked at the rough and rugged men, they assumed they were stupid, uneducated bikers who only knew violence. They didn't look beyond the long hair, tattoos, and piercings. If they had, they would be surprised to know that most of them had college degrees, and the Trez, their treasurer, Steve ‘Numbers' Grim, was one of the smartest bastards they would ever meet, and he could still beat the shit out of most men. Being smart and tough were not exclusive.

Numbers had been the one to convince them to buy the abandoned mine. At first, they wanted to use the place for the new headquarters of their motorcycle club. They had a cave-in on the property when they were going to lay the foundation, and they had discovered a literal gold mine. Now they had a working mine on one side of their property and a club on the other. It worked for them since the security covered both places. But they made sure to have a dividing line between the two; only a few people knew the Warriors owned the mine. Since they couldn't see the motorcycle club from the road, people assumed they leased and lived in the old buildings that had been on the property before. The rat-infested shacks had been the first things to go. No one knew what was out there unless they had been invited, and if they talked, they disappeared. Those were the rules, and they were scary enough to follow through.

You have the papers? Easy asked. They had been looking into the girls who worked for the club. Pot was the norm in Sexy Bitches but most of the time the hard stuff didn’t come in, lately a few of the girls looked a little strung out, and Creed wanted to know who they were getting their shit from.

Yeah, Poke winked at the stripper who was dancing in front of them. He patted the folder in front of him never taking his eyes off Shady.

They were currently in the first place the club purchased when they got their money. Sexy Bitches was the best strip bar in Nevada if you looked at that kind of lists. It was known not only for the quality of women they hired, but also for their security. Even all the shit that went with strip clubs, they kept the brawling to a minimum. Most everything else was a go, anything and everything a man could want.

The place was decorated for men. The red carpet and black leather furniture made it appealing. There were five stages for when they were busy, but during the day, only two were used. They had booths along the walls, and then the five tables that were all attached. The lights were always kept on low, except for the dancers’ tables. That is where they wanted the guys’ eyes. The large bar along the entire length of the back of the club had mirrors so even there the men could watch the women. The women wandered the floor between serving, performing lap dances and body shots. If the customer wanted more, they had to talk to the managers. Then only if they could strike a deal, and if both people consented. There were three rooms guarded by Prospects that held a chair and nothing else, the rooms in the far back were off limits to guests.

Now the bar across the road, which they also owned, called Lucky’s, was another story. That was where, on any given night, a biker brawl could break out just because someone looked wrong. It was another place where the Warriors ruled and were able to cut loose without worry of any recriminations. Booze was booze, and pussy was pussy, the guys knew where to go to cut loose, or get laid, the leaders didn’t do both in public. That bar was pure country; it held wooden tables and a mechanical bull in the corner. The huge dance floor in the center sometimes was changed into a fight club on rowdy nights. At least the tables and chairs were made of sturdy wood. For the Warriors it meant they didn’t have to replace them every time they turned around. One of the brothers called Shark ran the bar.

Fuck, Poke said and shifted a little as he watched Shady dance. After the meeting I need some pussy.

Shit, you always need some pussy, Easy said and lifted the beer to his lips. Although he felt the same way, they hadn’t fucked a woman for two days, and he needed a release in a bad way.

What club rat works tonight? Poke asked Shady when she