Addict (Book 1): Rogue Sinners MC, #1

By Paula Cox

This is book 1 of the Rogue Sinners MC romance series! Books 2 and 3 of this dark motorcycle club romance are available everywhere now!

 

They stabbed me in the back. Time to return the favor.

 

I've spent years in the shadows after my MC betrayed me.

When they forced me out, everything I'd ever worked for went up in smoke.

 

I ran with the cartel down south during my exile.

Learned things no man should ever have to learn.

Did horrible things I'll never forget.

 

Now, it's time for a bloody homecoming.

I'm headed back to the town I left.

And I'm gonna make them all wish they'd never been born.

 

But nothing's ever that easy.

There's a new doe-eyed beauty in the clubhouse. A girl I don't remember.

Beverly has plump lips and gentle curves that hide a feisty, fiery attitude.

 

One touch of her and I'm a goner.

New mission:

Make her mine.

Put a baby in her belly.

 

Only then will I get back to burning down the bastards who wronged me.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBook Publishing World
• Release date: Apr 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393929796

Book preview

Addict: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Rogue Sinners MC Book 1)

By Paula Cox

THEY STABBED ME IN the back. Time to return the favor.

I’ve spent years in the shadows after my MC betrayed me.

When they forced me out, everything I’d ever worked for went up in smoke.

I ran with the cartel down south during my exile.

Learned things no man should ever have to learn.

Did horrible things I’ll never forget.

Now, it’s time for a bloody homecoming.

I’m headed back to the town I left.

And I’m gonna make them all wish they’d never been born.

But nothing’s ever that easy.

There’s a new doe-eyed beauty in the clubhouse. A girl I don’t remember.

Beverly has plump lips and gentle curves that hide a feisty, fiery attitude.

One touch of her and I’m a goner.

New mission:

Make her mine.

Put a baby in her belly.

Only then will I get back to burning down the bastards who wronged me.

Chapter One

Four Years Ago

Crash Bennett and Leo Hampton pulled up to the liquor store at ten in the morning and parked their 450 thumper dirt bikes against the wall of the building where the cameras didn’t have coverage, according to Crash’s scouting. Leo still wasn’t sure about the reliability of Crash’s planning. What was bothering him most was if the plan took Crash into account.

Crash was twenty-eight. Leo was thirty-three and feeling like he was getting to be a little too old to mess around knocking over liquor stores. However, the steadiest thing Leo had going on in his life was the Rogue Sinners MC, of which Crash and himself were patch holders. So, really, a good robbery like this might be just the thing to give him some insights into what to do with his life — besides robbing another liquor store.

This liquor store’s owner was under the impression that driving all the way to the bank to drop off his money more than once a week was a hassle he couldn’t be bothered with. Crash knew where the man kept his extra safe, and knew that it was opened by a key on the man’s chain rather than a combination. It was the size of the weekly drop, and the knowledge Crash seemed to possess about the owner and his ways, which made going in on this heist with him sound like a good idea — until he saw oil. Something told him right then to get on his bike and ride away.

Crash, you are leaking oil, Leo told him.

What? Where? Oh, shit, Crash said, and he knelt down to check where the leak was coming from. Fucking little hole in the oil reservoir, can you believe that shit?

Let’s call it; we can do it next week. No good with bad equipment, Leo told him.

Oh, come on, fuck that, Crash told him. It’s just a little leak. I’ve still got more than half in the reservoir, which is plenty to get this baby to where she needs to go, Crash said, standing and giving the thumper seat a loving pat.

Leo looked the six-foot, lanky, blond, blue-eyed man over, and didn’t like what he saw. If that engine blows—

I’ll jump, and ride bitch on yours. These are 450s. Plenty of power to get us down the trail and up to the clearing, just as we planned, Crash assured him.

Which was probably true, Leo figured. These little monsters were fast, powerful, and ate trail like nothing he had ever ridden before. A far cry from his Harley Low Rider, but that was apples and oranges, really. No, these were the best trail monsters, by far, that he had ever been on.

Look, Crash, the plan is already changing for the worst and we aren’t even inside yet. Fix the fucking hole, and let’s go next week.

Fuck that, fuck that, no! I’ll fucking go in myself, then, Crash said and began to turn to walk away.

Leo’s instincts told him to let him go. But some fucked up partner thing inside him had him off his bike and moving after him. This is bullshit Crash.

Maybe, but fifteen grand of bullshit, Crash told him.

Which I suppose will be a bit of cash on our books in prison, Leo hissed. Don’t go further than you have to, Crash. Keep it tight and get the fuck out of here.

Shit, I can handle myself, Crash said.

No one suggested you can’t, but with the oil leaking, we don’t have time for delays. No fun and games.

No fun and games for me, he said, and then as they crossed the threshold, Leo swept the store for anyone else inside, which, as luck would have it, there wasn’t, because Crash didn’t wait for Leo’s signal.

Crash’s .45 went off, blowing a hole into the counter top beside the cash register. Don’t put your hand there! Crash ordered the man behind the counter.

Then: Boom! Back up!

Boom! Back up!

Boom! Back up!

Each shot blew apart bottles on the shelves next to the man, forcing him to move away, further down the counter toward the entranceway and into the corner.

Boom! Back up! Good, now kneel, Crash said and boom! shot the bottles above the man’s head, making him reflexively crouch down, at which point he knelt.

Perfect. Crash smiled under his mask. Keys, please. Just give them up. You don’t want me trying to blow them off you. Did you see how close I came to shooting you a couple of times there? I’m not that good of a shot. So just give them to me.

The man tossed him the keys on his belt.

Crash tossed them to Leo, who moved as fast as he could to the back where the weekly drop safe was supposed to be. Finding the safe, he lucked out on finding the right key. He opened it up and found — less than five grand. Probably closer to four grand.

Motherfucker!

But now wasn’t the time to hash it out with Crash. Now was the time to get this crazy fucking idiot out of the store and back to the club house, where he would give him all of this money, and then beat the crap out of him.

We’re out! No more shooting! he said as he passed Crash.

Apparently Crash didn’t hear him, because he emptied the rest of his clip into the bottle display around the man, pouring broken glass and liquor over him.

Then he stopped, opened the register, and pulled out the few twenties that were there, while also setting off the alarm.

The alarm was local and loud. Leo was on his bike and had it started. Crash finally came out of the fucking store, laughing and dancing.

Fucking get on your bike or I’m leaving you! Leo said it, and he meant every word of it.

Crash seemed to get it too, because he quit dancing, got to his bike, and got it started. In the process, he dropped his gun. Leo saw him drop it — Leo didn’t miss details — but he revved the thumper and took off down the getaway route they had planned. Crash could follow or get his fucking gun.

Crash chose to follow, Leo saw in his rear-view mirror. I’m so going to kick his fucking ass when we get back. What an amateur, childish display of bullshit! he said to himself.

Crash really had come close to shooting that man! And for what? Nothing! If they were caught then, that was an automatic ten years tacked onto the sentence.

Making it to the first dirt trail, which was more like a