Gunner: The Bad Disciples MC, #1

By Savannah Rylan

I'll screw any woman I want, even the enemy.

As a sniper in the military, I shot on sight.

But now the only thing I have eyes for is Brooklyn, the new bartender at PJ's.

Her curvy hips, those pouty lips, I want to touch every inch of her skin.

I'll bend her over my bike and show her how a Bad Disciple really rides.

But Brooklyn is hiding something. A secret that could rip us and the club apart. 

I killed her brother overseas. And now it haunts me in our streets. 

I'll convince Brooklyn to stay with me. 

I never miss a target, and this time the bullseye is her heart.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pink Empire Publishing
• Release date: Jan 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386896692

Book preview

1

GUNNER

I could feel the stickiness of sweat pasted to my forehead, dripping in fat drops down my temples. We had been trained to resist the urge to wipe sweat off our faces unless it was hindering our vision. Just that little motion was a distraction, a split-second action between life and death.

Instead, I adjusted the angle on my Savage 110. Perfect. Click. We all heard the zing as the bullet cracked the rock open. The men behind me cheered.

I’d picked this spot for our training exercise because it was secluded, and just like the rest of Afghanistan’s terrain, there was sand everywhere with the sun blazing down on us with a vengeance.

Too easy, it was Jenson’s voice behind me. I turned to him and smirked. I was the company commander, but I was also one of my men. In action, I was back to being their commander again and orders were obeyed. That was our way of life.

Are you going to make a diary entry tonight about how Gunner Alton made you feel bad? How he hurt your feelings by hitting all the targets? I laughed and slid down the surface of the boulder I was crouched behind. The metal ID tags tinkled around my neck, and Jenson shook his head. Some of the others chuckled.

Jenson had always been competitive, which was a healthy trait to have in the army as long as you weren’t putting someone else’s life in danger in the process.

Take up your position, O’Dowd, I said. He switched places with me behind the boulder.

I stood beside Jenson as I watched O’Dowd aim and hit the target, another rock. We cheered for him, too, and I passed him a high-five. Four others went after him, and my conviction in my company was re-affirmed. I’d trained them well. We were all high-performing soldiers, and we never missed our target.

My bulletproof vest felt heavy on my chest as I stood and watched the men shoot. Our guards were down today, although my sniper rifle was always cocked and ready to shoot at a second’s notice. Our recon from the previous two days of this spot gave us a good enough estimation that this place would make a good use for a training exercise. It was off base, but not far off to where we were on our enemies land. Besides, my men hadn’t been off base for over ten days now; we all needed a change of pace. And in the middle of war, shooting practice was the only kind of fun we could get.

How long was it since I had an ice cream? That was a strange thought to have at that moment, but I had it nonetheless. I wasn’t even an ice cream kinda guy! But the desert was making my mind swim, and I could hear an electrical buzz in my ear as I blinked furiously against the harsh blinding rays of the sun. The sweat was sliding down my cheeks. Drip. Drip. Drip. The white noise cleared when I sensed the others looking at me.

What’s the score, Sarge? Sanders had said. I wasn’t keeping count. I was thinking about ice cream.

Doesn’t matter. Isn’t it your go, Jenson? Or are you pussying out because of hurt feelings? I thumped Jenson’s back as he scowled. Some of the others were chuckling again.

I was waiting for you to come out of your daydreams, Jenson said and flipped himself in front of me. Wanna bet? he added, and I watched as he started walking backwards.

Bet what? I said, still grinning as I watched him cross the boulder we were all shooting from.

See that rock? he said and pointed far out in the distance. With my brows crossed, I looked through the viewfinder of my rifle till I’d located the rock he was talking about. With a grin on my face, I lowered my rifle and looked Jenson in the eye.

Yeah, you’re on, I said, and he nodded his head. This was going to be an easy win. I knew my men’s strengths and weaknesses, and as competitive as Jenson was, there was no way he was going to shoot that rock.

I bet you ten grand, Jenson said, and I laughed.

Ten grand and a pack of cigarettes, I called out to him as he continued to walk backwards. He had already gone a few yards further away from us. He gave me a mock salute, before flipping around and taking a few more steps. I was still laughing at his impending obvious loss of the bet when the telltale sound of a metallic click rang out. Loud and clear.

The smile dropped from my face. I knew exactly what that sound was. Jenson had stepped on a land mine. The white noise in my ears became louder as I screamed.

Don’t fucking move! I yelled, and I hadn’t even realized that my feet were carrying me forward. I was running towards Jenson in reflex.

Jenson, stay where you fucking are! I yelled again, and I saw the color drain from his face. I was getting closer to him, but then he moved a foot. Jenson was stepping off the land mine…

My body bolted up in bed, and the sweat was streaming. I was covered in it. My back was sticking to the cool bedsheets. My heart was thumping hard in my chest. The panic was real. I could feel it coursing through my veins. It was all real. I could taste the sand in my mouth. The screams of my men. My yelling. Jenson’s deathly white face. Did I see a hint of a smile? Was I imagining it? Did he smile when he realized what was going to happen in the next second?

I jumped off the bed, grabbed the bedsheets tightly in my two fists and I jerked it off. I could hear the deep guttural growl that was rising up in my throat.

I didn’t get there in time. I didn’t run fast enough. I shouldn’t have allowed him to walk that far. I should have made better decisions. He was gone and it was all my fault. I needed to break something. Something had to break. Without thinking, I ripped the bed sheet in my hand, right down the middle.

I was on the ground; my cheek pressing against the warm wooden floor of my bedroom. The ripped up bed sheet was lying in a crumpled ball beside me. There was no way I was going to be able to get any sleep tonight.

This was a recurring nightmare, and not a week went by that I didn’t have them at least twice…even three times…sometimes every night till I stayed awake all day and night, walking around like a zombie, surviving on shots of espresso. The only thing was that it wasn’t just a nightmare. This had actually happened. I’d lost one of my men.

I was the only one to blame. I was responsible for my men and I got carried away. Jenson had always been a brazen motherfucker, and I should have known to not let him take it too far. Now he was gone, and I was left knowing that I was responsible for his death. If only I could have gotten to him in time. If only I’d been able to run fast enough.

Enduring sleepless nights, waking up in cold sweats…was a small price to pay for the loss of his life. I was willing to do much more. I was ready for any kind of redemption that life had planned for me. I didn’t think I deserved any ounce of happiness anymore.

I heard my phone buzz on the bedside table above me, and I reached for it in the dark.

Glock was calling again. Fucking Glock. We’d been buddies since I could remember, but this guy just never took a hint. I didn’t want to talk to him, or talk to anyone for that matter. I needed to be left alone and repent for the loss of Jenson’s life.

Ever since I got back from the tour, Glock had been calling me nonstop. I tried everything; from switching off my phone, turning it to silent…nothing worked. It was always ringing, and Glock was leaving me a dozen voicemails a day, pleading and then threatening me to answer his call. I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to come by the Bad Disciples MC Bar, but I just didn’t have the mind space for that shit. I had my own problems to deal with, and my family’s motorcycle club wasn’t one of them.

It was supposed to be some sort of a family tradition, and I knew the expectations they had for me. My dad was one of the club founders back in the early seventies. Now that he was gone, along with my older brother, Bryce…there was no reason for me to associate with the MC any longer.

I cut the call and flung the phone on the bed, far away from me. It was 2AM. I had to at least try and get some sleep. I couldn’t even remember the last time that I’d slept a full night.

The phone started to ring again.

Growling and cursing under my breath, I got up and picked the phone off the bed. It was Glock again, obviously, and I muttered a few more curses. We’d been best friends…we were still best friends, since we were in kindergarten. He probably didn’t understand why I was shutting him out.

It’s 2AM, Glock! I grunted into the phone when I answered.

Gunner! Jeez, man. You’re a hard guy to get a hold of. Glock was in a club, and I could hear the sounds of thumping music in the background with his voice louder than it needed to be.

What do you want, Glock? I said.

No hugs? No love for your main man? Where have you been? I heard him say, and I got up to pace the floor of the room.

I’ve been here. At home. Where else am I supposed to be? I growled and ran a hand over my dark brown hair. I could feel that it had grown a little. I wasn’t expected to get military buzz cuts anymore now that I had been honorably discharged.

Anyway, Axel wants to see you, Glock said, and I scrunched up my face in confusion. Axel was the new president of the club; he’d taken over the position ever since Dad died.

"Why does Axel want to speak to me? How does he even know that I’m back?" I said, and Glock was laughing.

Everyone knows your back, man. Did you think you were going to hide under a rock forever? Get your ass down here, Glock replied, and I took in a deep breath of resignation. I was in no mood to make conversation with people. I needed to get rid of the voices in my head first.

I don’t think I’m going to go, I said, and Glock stopped laughing.

What are you talking about? If Axel asks to see you, you go see him. That’s what your dad would have expected, too, he said. Even though I knew he was right and was making complete sense, I gripped the bedpost with my hand, knuckles turning white. I was good at taking orders. I was trained to take orders from a young age. However, right now I was at a breaking point.

Fine. Whatever. Tell him I’ll stop by, I told him, and Glock seemed half-satisfied with my answer.

Like soon, he urged me.

Yeah, soon. Night, Glock, I said and cut the call before he could say anything else. Flinging the phone back on the bed, I sat down on the floor again. At least now maybe Glock would stop calling me constantly and my phone would stop ringing. One less factor to affect my lack of sleep.

I pressed my eyes closed, but I saw Jenson’s face again. Laughing as he walked backwards closer and closer to the land mine. That sound of the metallic click and then the white noise.

It might as well have been me, because I was as good as dead.

2

BROOKLYN

I sighed as I tied the black apron to my waist, a mandatory part of the uniform at the bar. I was in the back room where I usually changed after my waitressing shift at the diner a few blocks down. Today, I’d barely had time to grab a coffee before I ran to the bar. I’d tried to drink the coffee from a styrofoam cup as I got in, but loads of it had dribbled on my blouse. Thankfully, I never left my apartment without a fresh change of clothes stuffed in my bag.

I stared at myself in the small plastic-framed mirror on the wall of the back room. I looked tired, and I thought I detected dark circles under my eyes. Twenty-six with dark circles and exhausted green eyes. That was the best description anyone could give for me if I ever disappeared. My hair was long, and like most days, I’d styled the brown waves into curls. I tied it up into a loose bun on the side of my head now. Working shifts at the bar wasn’t exactly the time or the place to look my best, and besides, I’d stopped putting in much of an effort. Not since Luke…

I tucked in some stray strands of hair haphazardly behind my ears as I walked out to the bar and pasted a smile on my face. No matter how tired I might actually be, I still needed to pretend like I was enjoying myself. No matter how intense the pain in my back was from standing all day, I had to keep that fake smile on my face. I couldn’t lose these jobs. I needed both of them. I wasn’t even thinking about the money anymore. I just needed to keep busy so that I wasn’t thinking of Luke all day.

I began my shift with polishing the glasses, just as the doors of the bar were opened to the general public. These few minutes of standing behind the counter, polishing the glasses with freshly washed cotton towels were my moments of peace. In an hour, the place would fill up with regulars and strangers alike, and I’d be too busy to even notice how my shoulders ached and how the smile on my face was beginning to droop.

Even though these minutes were restful, they were also dangerous. The lack of having to make small talk with customers gave my mind a chance to wander. And lo and behold! I was thinking of Luke again.

I had to remind myself that he wasn’t my older brother anymore. That he didn’t actually exist. When I got the call two months before, I didn’t know how