An Outlaw Torn - Book 2: Desert Reapers MC, #2

By Laila Cole

Jenny:

His name makes my body tingle and my heart pound. From the moment I met him I knew that he was the one. He was dangerous, wild, and intense. He was just what I needed, right up until the point our lives collided into a danger unknown. A danger that, for once, I wasn't sure I could handle.

Trent:

To the unsuspecting eye I was just another asshole riding too fast on a motorcycle too loud. To my fellow Desert Reapers MC members I was their President or “Prez” for short. To the cops I was an outlaw. To my momma I was Trent. And to the women I’d bedded over the last fifteen years I was a bastard. Imagine that.

The truth of the matter is that I was a bastard, I am a bastard, and I will always be a bastard, and that’s just the way it is. It was a fact I long ago accepted as immutable, right up until the point I met Jenny. I could change for her... maybe.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Supernova Erotica
• Release date: Feb 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524288761

Laila Cole

Hello everyone! I am an author who loves strong, dominant men, and if they happen to be rich or ride in a motorcycle club, well, that's just an added bonus! My stories are filled with suspense, intense situations, twists, and turns. One year ago I left the suck of the finance industry to pursue my dream and my passion, which is turning my fantasies and dreams into novels. There are more stories bouncing around my head than I could tell in a lifetime, though I'm certainly going to try to tell them all! As an added bonus. All of my stories exist in the same universe...so don't be surprised to see a cameo here and there. Don't forget to sign up for my mailing list for updates on new releases. Laila Cole Mailing List:http://eepurl.com/bqLWpf [e-mail] xoxo

Book preview

Chapter 1 – Jenny

My eyes opened to a blur and then focused on a yellowed popcorn ceiling. Someone squeezed my hand, and that person’s hands were coarse and rough. I turned my head to find Trent sitting next to me forcing a smile through his beard.

A horrible pain erupted in my side like I was being ripped in two. I tried to speak to him but my throat was dry and nothing came out.

Wait, baby. Drink this. Trent held up a water cup with a straw to my lips. Just take a sip it will be ok. You’re in a recovery room.

I sucked the cold water down my throat and was finally able to talk. What the hell happened to me?

You were shot.

Yea, I know. I’m talking here. I feel worse now than when I went in. I sucked down another few ounces through the straw.

Trent laughed at me. Surgery will do that to you. And you’ve had some pretty major surgery.

What did they do?

I spoke with the surgeon earlier. The bullet hit you in the side and exited out your back. Your large bowel was hit in the process. They went in there, cleaned out your insides, sewed up your intestine, and then stitched up your wound.

I was lucky to be alive. Wow. Who is responsible for this?

He squeezed my hand harder. The same people that shot up The Raging Piston and killed our friends.

I was starting to get the feeling that getting close to Trent was more danger than I could handle and tears began to fall down my face. I don’t know if I can do this with you. I barely know you and I’ve almost been killed twice.

He sighed. You’ve known me for a day. That’s it. It’s not always like this, though I’m not going to defend my life to you, even if you are on this bed recovering from surgery. If you’re not ready for the heat then you should get out of the kitchen now, the oven’s about to get turned to broil.

I was quiet as I struggled to find the right words to say. I can handle the heat. I just don’t want to die in the process.

Listen. If it was always like this I’d already be dead. And I’m not. I’m as healthy as a black lunged ox with a pickled liver.

I started laughing and that just made the pain in my side worse. Damn you. This hurts. The pain in my side was really starting to throb. Where are the doctors and nurses?

God only knows, had I not barged into the ER and forced their hand I don’t know that you would have ever seen one.

Did the doctor tell you how long I’d be like this? I need to find a job and I obviously can’t work like this.

He said it would be a couple of weeks, at the most.

Shit. I don’t have a couple weeks, Trent. I need to find a job ASAP or I’m going to get evicted.

He laughed like I’d said something funny. For one. Getting evicted from that shithole wouldn’t be that bad, would it?

How rude. Excuse you?

I meant what I said. You can do better.

Right, with what money? I’m stuck there and you know it. So don’t rub in my face how shitty it is, believe me I already know.

I’m not rubbing anything in your face. Don’t worry about your job I’ve already found you one, and I guarantee it’s going to pay a hell of a lot better than the one you just had.

In a state of shock I rolled my eyes, positive that he was full of shit. There were no good paying jobs in the desert, not unless I wanted to sell my body, which I would never do. Oh really? Let me guess, you envision me working a pole at that strip club on I-40? I’m sure the men will love my bullet wounds. I’ll probably make double the hourly in tips.

Trent laughed. It’s nice you still have a sense of humor after last night. And no, I don’t see you working at a strip club. If you did we’d have a problem.

Then where will I be working?

You’re going to run the bar at the clubhouse. The Reapers, you see, we get tired of pouring our own drinks, and when we have parties it’s a burn out to pour them for others. It’s a full time gig plus overtime. You’ll run the show. That means acquiring the booze, cleaning glasses, the bar, the floors, and of course, pouring drinks.

It sounded amazing, I’d almost forgotten about the aching wound in my side. Almost. I hate to sound greedy, but what does it pay?

It pays $20 an hour plus tips, and don’t worry, you’re the only bartender on payroll so you’ll keep 100% of the tips. I could see you easily pulling in $100 to $200 an hour on a busy night like last night. Remember, most times we charge for booze, last night was just an exception given the events at The Raging Piston. What do you say?

There wasn’t much else to say. Yes. I’ll take it.

And?

Thank you. When do I start?

As soon as your able.

Somehow this made the bullet wound in my side all the more worth it. This is amazing, Trent. Thank you. This man was evil incarnate.

He smiled at me and reached toward the floor. And while I was finding you a job I also found you these.

To my utter shock and surprise he pulled up a bouquet of red roses and placed them in my hands. I didn’t know what to say. No man had ever bought flowers for me. The only presents I’d ever received from men where black eyes, and the prettiest they ever looked were shades of pink and purple when they were on the mend. These are gorgeous, Trent. Thank you.

He squeezed my hand again. You’re welcome. I just want you to get better.

That’s when I noticed that his eyes were bloodshot. Have you been smoking pot in the bathroom? And if not, when was the last time you slept?

No pot, I left that at the clubhouse. I’ve been here for 8 hours, I haven’t slept much.

A sense of guilt slugged me. Please, Trent, go home and sleep. You don’t have to be here. I’m feeling ok, really. Go back to your men. Make sure they’re ok. That’s when I remembered that I wasn’t the only one getting shot at. Wait a second… what about Michelle, was she hurt?

No, Iggy protected her, though right after he dropped her off he said she told him not to call her. Everyone is ok. Fortunately for everyone else you’re the unlucky one.

Good. I’m relieved.

Trent’s phone rang out the solo from Pantera’s Cemetery Gates. He looked down at the screen and let it go to voicemail. You’re right. I’ve got to go. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. I’ll be in touch. He stood and pulled his long black hair out his face. Once everything settles down I’m going to take you out for a date.

I struggled to stop the laughter, which only made the pain in my side worse. Really? I don’t ever see things calming down with you.

Believe me. They will.

I couldn’t stop from smiling at the evil bastard as he walked out of the room. Where are you taking me on this date?

He turned and looked back. That’s for me to know and you to find out. I’m counting on you to make a full recovery so don’t let me down. And with that