Gutter (Book 3): The Ashes MC, #3

By Evelyn Glass

This is book 3 and the finale of the Ashes MC romance series! 

He'll drag me to the gutter if he gets the chance.

He's a devil covered in scars, muscle, and tattoos.

A devil that took me, claimed me, and used me for his pleasure until I was screaming his name.

A splash of ink, a tattoo, and now Alex Gordon thinks he owns me.

I should run.

I should get out while I can.

But each time he touches me….

Each time his gravelly voice rumbles in my ear…

Shivers run down my spine.

I know he won't stop.

Not until there's nothing of the old me left.

Not until he's made me HIS.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBook Publishing World
• Release date: Dec 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393834557

Book preview

Gutter: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Ashes MC Book 3)

By Evelyn Glass

He’ll drag me to the gutter if he gets the chance.

HE’S A DEVIL COVERED in scars, muscle, and tattoos.

A devil that took me, claimed me, and used me for his pleasure until I was screaming his name.

A splash of ink, a tattoo, and now Alex Gordon thinks he owns me.

I should run.

I should get out while I can.

But each time he touches me....

Each time his gravelly voice rumbles in my ear...

Shivers run down my spine.

I know he won’t stop.

Not until there’s nothing of the old me left.

Not until he’s made me HIS.

CHAPTER ONE

Crumpling up yet another screwed up drawing, Alex tossed the paper angrily into the trashcan and glared at the blank page in front of him. His jaw clenched in irritation, he slashed the pencil across it in sharp lines with such force it indented the paper, and he knew he’d be starting over in a minute or so. He was burning through supplies like a three pack a day smoker burned through cigarettes. He couldn’t focus, and his designs were shit.

After three weeks, he still couldn’t get Krishna’s face out of his mind. Her final words, spoken in pain and anger, were burned into his memory, and they circled in his head over and over, her crestfallen expression haunting his dreams. He put on a good show around the rest of the Ashes, but whenever he was alone, he turned into a hot mess and felt his sanity slipping.

He’d occupied himself as much as possible, throwing himself into the biker lifestyle. The weekends had been perfect for long, aimless rides, enjoying the wind in his hair, the sun on his skin, and the rumble of his bike beneath him. Nights were spent playing pool or poker or drinking his sadness away. But the poison of loss and loneliness continued to spread through his body, and he was rotting away, leaving him little more than an empty shell.

And that shell filled with anger now as he sat at his drawing desk outside under the carport, working on a design for Cole, one of the boys who had just finished paying off his debt to Pop. His bail had been hefty, based on three felonies, and it had taken a long time and more frequent runs than most made, but he was finally free and clear and wanted to celebrate. He’d given Alex license to do a piece that was, at his own discretion, something he thought would be a symbol of strength and triumph over the odds. Usually, that sort of creative license would have excited him and sparked his interest. But Alex couldn’t seem to get his shit together to come up with a suitable drawing.

Every time he started on something that seemed appropriate, the idea that was forming fell flat, or he couldn’t seem to get the proportions right. He looked at the wastebasket, which was full to the top of wadded up drawing paper, and he cursed himself for wasting so much of it. He wasn’t made of money, and if he kept wasting his supplies, he’d have to start charging more for the designs. He didn’t want to do that, since the club was supposedly his family. Unfortunately, he felt less and less connected to them with each passing day, ever since their harsh judgment and prejudice against Krishna.

And that wasn’t even touching on the heinous crime some of them had committed against her.

It didn’t matter that Damien was outcast. Rumors put him out on the California coast, but Alex couldn’t be sure and didn’t really care. The asshole was forbidden to communicate with anyone in the club for any reason, and that suited Alex just fine. But the men who had followed the ringleader eagerly still had a bad attitude and slipped in snide comments now and then when no one else was listening, just to drive the stake deeper into Alex’s heart.

He was starting to question himself, ask himself why he continued to show such loyalty to a bunch of traitorous men who didn’t show him the same respect. If his so-called brothers had cared as much about him as he did them, they never would have voted to ban Krishna. It was fine if they didn’t want her around the clubhouse; she hadn’t wanted to come back anyway, and though Alex had fought against that at first, he’d decided it was probably for the best. She was in too much danger here.

But to demand he couldn’t see her anymore was taking things too far. His personal life was no one’s business from his, and he was livid at the need to control him in such a way. He knew it was partially punishment for the way he’d reacted to their violent attempt to gang rape Krishna, but any decent man would have done the same thing. Pop agreeing and enforcing the rule with a threat to put a hit out on Krishna was unacceptable.

Because he would rather know Krishna was safe somewhere than hold her in his arms while she faded away, Alex had cracked under the pressure and done what the club asked. Pop wouldn’t let him leave, and he couldn’t see another way around the inevitable consequences, so he’d done what he thought was best.

But he questioned that now. If it had been the right thing to do, he shouldn’t feel so terrible. He shouldn’t be riddled with guilt, filled with longing, and so overwhelmed with rage and resentment toward the gang that he wanted to burn down the whole damn clubhouse with everyone locked inside. It all blended together in his chest so his lungs ached with labored breathing, and his stomach churned, nausea constantly from what he now realized was a poor judgment call. The problem was, he didn’t know what to do now. He couldn’t change the situation now. He didn’t dare risk having Pop’s dogs called in by checking up on Krishna. And he couldn’t just show up at her doorstep with flowers after the way he’d left things anyway. She’d laugh in his face and cut the flowers into potpourri.

But he wanted desperately to rectify things, and while he wished he could just live his life without interference, he didn’t think he’d be able to win her back no matter how hard tried. He just wanted to apologize, know she didn’t hate him. That would, at least, settle his soul a bit. He didn’t expect to feel relieved or peaceful, only that he had a little closure.

You look like you just watched someone skin your cat alive before chopping it to bits and using it for stew meat.

Alex looked up at Rusty with hatred oozing from every pore. The man had been an active participant in everything that had happened to Krishna and the ensuing punishments. He could hardly stand to be within ten feet of Rusty, and the fact that the man had entered his personal space pissed him off. I don’t have a cat, he said gruffly, turning back to the page with the deep line drawn across it.

Hey, I came to talk to you, bro. Alex still didn’t look up and nearly got up to walk away as Rusty