Biker for Blood: Damned Angels MC, #3

By APRIL LUST

This is book 3 and the finale of the Damned Angels MC series! 

She crossed the wrong man.

It's my job to neutralize any threats to the club.

And Erin is determined to slaughter all of us and the man we're guarding.

I can either throw her to the wolves and let her suffer…Or throw her in my bed and make her moan.

TORCH

The fiery stripper thought killing me would solve her problems.

But I'm not so easy to put in the dirt.

Far tougher SOBs than her have tried and failed to put a bullet in my head.

I've got the scars to prove I won each of those fights.

But this is different.

This is no ordinary bar brawl, not just a bloody scuffle between rival outlaw bikers.

This is a win-or-die-trying vengeance mission – one girl against the world.

I have to admit that I admire her ambition.

She thinks she's gonna take down a whole motorcycle club and the rich d-bag we're protecting – singlehandedly.

No weapons.

No backup.

Just her.

But she failed to get farther than me, and now her fate is in my hands.

The problem is, Erin's lone wolf rebellion is making me ask tough questions of myself and my brothers.

Questions like, are we doing the wrong thing?

Is this villain worth protecting?

Or have we sold our souls to the devil?

If what Erin says is true, then the answers are worse than I ever could have feared.

I'm no knight in shining armor.

But even though I've always put loyalty to the MC over everything else…

I'm sure as hell not gonna be the right-hand man of some monstrous prick who hurts women and children.

I have a choice to make.

Do I put a bullet in Erin's skull?

Do I sell her body at auction to the highest bidder?

Or do I throw away my brotherhood, my past, and my future to help her do what's right?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sopris Page Press
• Release date: Sep 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393145981

Book preview

Biker for Blood: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Damned Angels MC) (Book 3)

By April Lust

She crossed the wrong man.

It’s my job to neutralize any threats to the club.

And Erin is determined to slaughter all of us and the man we’re guarding.

I can either throw her to the wolves and let her suffer...

Or throw her in my bed and make her moan.

TORCH

The fiery stripper thought killing me would solve her problems.

But I’m not so easy to put in the dirt.

Far tougher sons of b!tches than her have tried and failed to put a bullet in my head.

I’ve got the scars to prove I won each of those fights.

But this is different.

This is no ordinary bar brawl, not just a bloody scuffle between rival outlaw bikers.

This is a win-or-die-trying vengeance mission – one girl against the world.

I have to admit that I admire her ambition.

She thinks she’s gonna take down a whole motorcycle club and the rich d-bag we’re protecting – singlehandedly.

No weapons.

No backup.

Just her.

But she failed to get farther than me, and now her fate is in my hands.

The problem is, Erin’s lone wolf rebellion is making me ask tough questions of myself and my brothers.

Questions like, are we doing the wrong thing?

Is this villain worth protecting?

Or have we sold our souls to the devil?

If what Erin says is true, then the answers are worse than I ever could have feared.

I’m no knight in shining armor.

But even though I’ve always put loyalty to the MC over everything else...

I’m sure as hell not gonna be the right-hand man of some monstrous prick who hurts women and children.

I have a choice to make.

Do I put a bullet in Erin’s skull?

Do I sell her body at auction to the highest bidder?

Or do I throw away my brotherhood, my past, and my future to help her do what’s right?

Chapter 1

Erin

Torch led us to a pickup truck I learned was his. It was a big black 4x4, and it did the trick just fine. The three of us scrambled into the cab, he turned on the ignition, and we were out of there. Not a freaking moment too soon.

We dropped Candy off at her car in the Centerfold lot and watched her drive away, making sure she got out all right. She had to have been as freaked-out as I was, but she was holding it together okay and claimed to be good to drive herself home. She probably just wanted badly to get away from everyone and everything related to Centerfold. I couldn’t say I blamed her one bit.

Once we arrived back at Torch’s apartment, we took a few moments to just settle and unwind before rehashing the events of the night. I knew he was dying to know what had happened upstairs in that nightmare McMansion, but I wanted a drink first, and my feet hurt something awful, and I was freaking cold.

Torch poured me a glass of wine—this biker was proving to have hidden depths I would not have guessed at—then told me to sit on the couch and put my feet up. He disappeared into his bedroom and reemerged with a fleece top and a huge pair of sweatpants. I almost declared my love but thought better of it in the moment. Now was not the time, and I was not sure of how rationally I was thinking.

He rubbed my feet again while I drank that first glass. Neither of us made eye contact; it was as if we were both too raw and we needed time to gather ourselves together individually before we could reconnect with one another.

After several minutes, I felt better. I was breathing normally, my mind was no longer racing, my body was warming up from the shock and adrenaline drop, and I was starting to relax under his firm ministrations on my feet.

He’d noticed the difference. Are you ready to talk now?

Yeah, baby. I think so.

Okay. Tell me what happened upstairs.

So I did. I went through every detail, including those which interested Torch the most: how Owen had ripped down my towel and threatened me, my shoving my knee into his balls, releasing Candy from her bindings, and grinding my stiletto into his hand.

Damn, Erin. I wish I’d been there to protect you from that sick bastard. But I’m damn proud of you, that you hurt him so badly. Remind me never to piss you off that bad.

"I don’t think you need to worry about that, Torch, not unless you have a complete psychotic breakdown and become a whole different person. I save that nasty for special occasions only. No. Truth is, I learned that shit in a self-defense class. Never really needed it before