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Nox: Untamed Sons MC, #2
Nox: Untamed Sons MC, #2
Nox: Untamed Sons MC, #2
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Nox: Untamed Sons MC, #2

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Enjoy this dark motorcycle club romance from USA Today Bestselling MC romance author Jessica Ames...

 

Nox

 

As Vice President of the Untamed Sons MC, my first loyalty is to my club and my president, that is until Lucy walks into my life. For her, I'm willing to give it all up. I'll stand against my brothers, question my loyalty and even consider giving up my patch. Too bad everything I'm building isn't real.

 

Lucy

 

Nox is falling for me, but he shouldn't. I have secrets and if he knew the truth he'd drop me in a heartbeat. The problem is I'm falling for him too, but when my past comes out he's going to hate me. Nothing is as it seems. My whole life is a lie. Everything except Nox. Because the truth is Lucy Franklin doesn't really exist.

 

All books in the Untamed Sons universe can be read as standalones, but are better enjoyed read in order. This is a dark romantic story with a guaranteed happily ever after. It does have some strong language, graphic violence and content that might be triggering.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJessica Ames
Release dateNov 2, 2023
ISBN9798223362098
Nox: Untamed Sons MC, #2

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    Book preview

    Nox - Jessica Ames

    1

    LUCY

    I’m covered in blood and fuck knows what else. As I push my foot heavier on the gas pedal, I try not to focus on that. If I do, I’ll freak out and I don’t have time for a meltdown right now. I hit the accelerator to the floor and the car surges forwards, narrowly avoiding clipping the back of another vehicle. I’m probably breaking every speed limit in the borough, but I don’t care. My only thought is on my destination, and getting there as fast as possible.

    I glance up through the windscreen, pushing my blood-spattered hair from my face, cringing at the way the gore coats my fingers. I can smell the coppery-tang of the blood, taste its sourness on my tongue and it makes me want to gag. My hands are shaking as I wipe them on the leg of my pants suit and peer in the rear-view mirror, catching a glimpse of my haunted eyes, eyes that look like they’ve seen hell.

    I can’t see if I’m being followed or not, which doesn’t help my anxiety. My heart is hammering in my chest, panic licking a path up my spine. I shouldn’t be driving. I can barely see through the blood in my eyes, and my fear is carving a path through my gut, but I’m running on adrenaline.

    I don’t know how I’m still alive. I should be dead. I know the bullet got too close. I can feel the path it took burning like fire across my forehead. How it missed is a miracle, a one in a million chance.

    I try to steady my fingers on the steering wheel, but I’m trembling so hard I can barely grip it. When the clubhouse finally comes into view, my breath feels like it catches in the back of my throat and relief floods my veins. I hit the accelerator harder as I approach the gates and duck down as I hit them. The car fights against the barrier for a moment before it breaches, the gates coming off the hinges with a screech of metal that makes my teeth hurt.

    Losing my visibility for a moment beneath the twisted frame, I don’t see the post until it’s too late. I have a second to brace for impact, but it’s not enough. The car hits with a roar of noise that makes my ears ache. I’m flung forwards as the airbag deploys, my head pillowing into the material before I’m kicked back into my seat with the force of a wrecking ball. Pain explodes through my face and chest. It’s like getting punched with a titanium fist.

    Then everything is quiet.

    I don’t move, shock making me immobile, but when my body starts to wake up, I feel pain stabbing its way up my chest and through my skull.

    I groan, smelling the acrid scent of burning and as I raise my head, I can see smoke billowing from under the hood of the vehicle. My head is throbbing, but even half-dazed, I remember my need to find safety.

    I fumble for the door handle and get a couple of fingers to it. My vision is rolling and nausea climbs up my throat as I pull it. It opens with a creak and I try to get out of the car, but my legs are weak, so I tumble onto the ground, the tarmac scraping my palms.

    There are figures rushing towards me. As I push my bloody hair from my eyes, I think I see the Untamed Sons insignia, but I can’t be sure. My heart is hammering in my chest as flashes of metal twinkle in the mid-afternoon sunshine and voices are yelling at me to keep down. My ears ring, and everything seems like it’s coming at me from underwater.

    Through my haze, I can just about see the guns pointed in my direction. Did I leave the devil behind only to face new monsters?

    I try to speak, to tell them who I am, but my words stick in my throat.

    Fuck! Lower your guns! a voice I recognise yells.

    Nox.

    It’s a balm to my soul, and I cling desperately to the relief hearing a familiar voice among the angry ones brings.

    Lower your fucking guns.

    Then he’s in front of me. I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision enough to see his eyes pierce mine and I see the cogs turning as he tries to work out the puzzle before him.

    Lucy?

    Tears bubble behind my eyes. I want to tell him of the danger I’m in, but all I manage to squeak out is a pitiful sounding, Help.

    His brows draw down and his hands come to the side of my face. There’s panic growing in his eyes, and that scares me. He’s not a man to frighten easily.

    Lucy, look at me.

    I try to, but my eyes are heavy and unfocused. He’s blurry in front of me.

    What the fuck happened? Is this blood yours? he tries. Fuck, Whizz, get over here.

    Get her inside first, another voice growls out. I’m sure it’s Ravage from the gravelly, angry sound of it, but I can’t see him clearly and my ears are still ringing. My head is also a ball of agony now. Titch, move the fucking car.

    I’m pulled up to my feet and swept up into strong arms. I cry out as I’m moved, pain flaring through my chest.

    Nox mutters an apology as he carries me bridal-style into the clubhouse. I burrow my face into his chest as we walk, smelling the leather of his vest, feeling the softness of the worn material against my swollen face, seeking comfort from him. In Nox’s arms, I finally feel safe, even if that safety is only borrowed. If he knew the truth of what happened, he would never protect me.

    He would never put his club at risk.

    I’m placed on a hard surface—a tabletop—and then a guy with chin length, dirty blond hair steps into my space. Whizz. I vaguely remember him from the hospital. He’d visited Lily-May a few times.

    He shines a light in my eyes and I push his hand away with a groan as the brightness burns the backs of my eyes.

    Sorry, sweetheart, but I need to check you over.

    He’s the club’s doctor, Nox tells me.

    It’s Nox’s reassurance that has me lowering my hand and letting him shine the light again, following his directions.

    This is a pretty nasty burn you’ve got. Whizz probes around the wound on my forehead and I pull back at the white-hot pain his touch brings. How’d you do it?

    I lick my lips, not sure if the truth will help here or not, but there’s suspicion in Whizz’s voice. Presumably, as the club’s doctor, he’s seen his share of gunshot injuries.

    I decide the truth is the better option here. I was shot at.

    The fuck? Who shot at you? Nox demands, rage lacing his words, as I hear the door open.

    Someone want to fill me in? Ravage.

    My stomach twists. I know Sasha loves this man, but honestly, he makes my blood run cold. I’ve been around men like him my whole life—men with souls so dark, so twisted and fucked up they don’t know right from wrong. I have no doubt Ravage would snuff my life out to protect his club, to protect Sasha and Lily-May, and he’d be right to. Me being here is a danger to everyone he loves—to everyone I love too.

    I shouldn’t have come here, I mumble, trying to slide off the table even as pain lances through my body, but strong hands grab me, stopping my escape.

    You ain’t leaving, Nox says. His words are soft, not filled with malice, but the meaning is still clear. I’m staying whether I want to or not.

    Explain, Ravage snaps, his fuse clearly reaching its end.

    The tension blossoms in the room, filling every space with a suffocating heaviness as I feel all eyes lock on my face. I push my hair out of my eyes, trying to see through the blood, but everything comes at me from behind a film of red.

    Panic starts to flood me. Did I jump out of the fire into the pits of hell? Was coming here a bad idea? In a daze, it was the first place I thought of, but now I’m wondering if I should have kept running.

    Start with the fact that someone tried to shoot you in the fucking head, Nox says, sounding a little pissed as he hands me a towel.

    I wipe my face, clearing the blood from my vision. It leaves me feeling less vulnerable having my sight back—for about half a second.

    I peer up at the three burly men standing in front of the table. Suspicion is mixed with outright hostility. Then I’m looking down the barrel of a gun for the second time today. I flinch as I glance up its length to look at Ravage’s angry glare, then I steel my spine. I won’t show my fear, even if it’s there. I learnt a long time ago that fear is something that can be used against you, although I’m not always good at hiding my emotions.

    You bringing trouble to my club, little girl?

    I see his demons rise in his eyes as he peers down the gun at me.

    Easy, Rav. Nox’s hand goes to Ravage’s arm, but he doesn’t lower the weapon.

    Start talking, he demands.

    I fiddle absently with the hem of my suit jacket, my heart pounding in my chest even as I keep my outward appearance locked down tightly. Coming here was a mistake, a huge mistake.

    Ravage’s glare is so glacial I shiver, and Nox doesn’t look much warmer. This is his club too, and I’m bringing a heap of shit down on its head.

    Eventually, Rav lowers the gun and speaks again. I’ve got respect for you, Lucy. You took care of my woman and daughter when they had no one, I owe you for that, but you want my help, my club’s help, you need to tell me what the fuck you’re involved in.

    Fear of how deep I’m in this now has me saying, They came into my workplace… I break off and lick my dry lips as my mind races to build the lies among the half-truths. The truth is supposed to set you free. In my case, it will end with me dead. They started shooting. My boss—he’s dead. A lot of this is his. I peer down at the blood coating my hands, hands that are still shaking. I saw them kill him. This is true, but I leave out the fact they were there for me and Hank just got caught in the crossfire of my disastrous life. No one can ever know who I am. Not even Sasha. I think my boss is involved in something dodgy.

    The lie tastes like ash on my tongue. I hate giving it, but what choice do I have? I need protection and I’ll do whatever it takes to get it—except tell the truth. I’ll only be here for a short time anyway. As soon as it’s safe, I’ll hit the open road again, go back into hiding. No one needs to know the details of my sordid affairs. It will kill me to leave Sasha and Lily-May, but I got complacent staying in the first place. I should have kept moving, but with them both, I felt like I found home and I didn’t want to lose it. I should have remembered sentimentality has no place in my life.

    The door pushes open and Sasha moves into the room. Her eyes come to me and flare, concern and anxiety flashing through them. Ravage grabs her arm before she can rush at me, stopping her in her tracks. She frowns up at him, before he releases her, but I see something unspoken pass between them.

    Be careful.

    She doesn’t take his warning, rushing at me and coming to stand in front of me with fear dancing in her gaze.

    What the hell happened? Is this your blood?

    I’m okay, I assure her. Just a little shaken.

    I’m more than a little shaken. I’m fucking petrified. Coming face-to-face with Isaac’s men dragged me back to a time I want to keep buried. A time when I was a different person to the Lucy I am now. My skin crawls, remembering my past, remembering who I became because of him.

    If the Untamed Sons don’t help me, I’m screwed because now I’m on Isaac’s radar again, he will find me and he will drag me home—whether I want to go there or not.

    2

    NOX

    I stare at Lucy sitting on the table, her knuckles white as she grips the edge of it, her gaze darting around the room like a frightened rabbit. There’s genuine fear in her eyes, even though she’s trying to hide it. I want to gut the men who put it there, although I suspect Rav and Whizz are causing some of her anxiety—especially Rav. He’s spitting fire right now, trying to get to the bottom of what the fuck happened. I don’t blame him. After everything that went down with Sin he’s been on edge. That shit rocked the club to its core.

    I’m eager for answers myself, because Lucy looks like she’s been through hell. Her suit is rumpled, blood staining the collar of her jacket and her blouse is gaping open, revealing the lacy black bra she’s wearing. I’m drawn to the ample mounds of her tits as her chest heaves up and down. As I lift my eyes they land on the wound to her head, a wound that could have killed her. The thought makes my stomach twist and bile cling to the back of my throat.

    I watch as Whizz wipes the last of the blood from her face. She murmurs an apology for destroying the towel he used. Like we give a fuck about the towels. I’m more worried about what she has coming her way. Every time my eyes trail over that mark on her forehead, red clouds my vision and my rage gnaws at my gut. I can see now she’s cleaned the blood from her face that she has a bruise blossoming across her cheek and her eye is starting to swell. It makes anger burn a path through my veins.

    Whizz starts to clean up the wound, the smell of antiseptics clogging my nose. My fists clench at my sides as she whimpers at the first touch he makes, pulling back from his offending fingers. I’m a cunt’s hair from breaking his hand if he hurts her again.

    I can’t help but feel protective of this woman. She deserves to be protected. Lucy took care of Sasha and Lily-May when the club couldn’t. Now she’s in trouble the club owes it to her to take care of her. I want to take care of her.

    Did you recognise the men? Rav demands, his tone as sharp as a knife’s edge.

    Lucy swallows hard, her head ducking a little, her blood-matted hair curtaining her face, and shakes her head. I can smell the metallic tang of it in the air, a sickly familiar scent. I don’t like that Rav’s tone has her forcing her spine straight and meeting his gaze with fear lurking beneath the steel.

    It happened so fast, but no. I don’t know the men.

    Did they say anything to you?

    No.

    Did they say anything to your boss?

    Her throat works as she swallows hard, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for a way out. No.

    Rav’s temper frays. Well, what the fuck did happen?

    Sasha rounds on Rav, her eyes flaming. Quit interrogating her. She’s been through hell without you getting in her face.

    There are very few people who would get away with talking to Ravage like that. Sasha is one of them. I’m the other, though Rav has his limits with me, and I know when to push them and when to step off.

    Rav won’t lay a hand on Sasha ever, but he might take out his anger on nearby objects, so I brace, ready for anything, but he seems to hold onto his temper long enough to growl out, She turned up here covered in fucking blood, talking about heads being blown off. We need to make sure this isn’t going to come back on the club.

    He’s right. This has the potential to go south fast. We’re not prepared for an attack. There are women and kids in the clubhouse right now. Not the ideal circumstances to throw down with an enemy

    Sasha drops her hands to her hips and peers up at her man, her eyes like molten lava. She doesn’t know anything, Ty, and you’re upsetting her.

    Lucy is holding it together a lot better than I’d expect any civilian to after watching their boss get gunned down. Most people would be destroyed after seeing that, but I’ve seen shock affect people differently over the years. She’s scared, I can tell that, but the full gravity of what happened will hit her later, when she least expects it.

    Rav blows out a breath, sounding like an irate bull before he shifts his eyes to Lucy. Are they coming here?

    Lucy nibbles on her bottom lip and grips the table harder before she shifts her shoulders.

    I don’t know. The words are spoken quietly, fear making them shaky.

    His temper finally flares, and Rav curses as he snatches the door handle and strides out of the room, Sasha mutters an apology before she goes after him.

    I stare at Lucy, and her eyes raise as if she knows she’s being watched. She meets my gaze for a moment before she goes back to studying her knees. I hate seeing the defeated look in her eyes.

    I mutter a Be back soon, at Lucy.

    As soon as the door is shut behind me, I hear Sasha yell, I know you want answers, but shit, Ty, do you have to be so hard on her?

    I like that she’s defending Lucy. She owes her that. There are not many people who would take in a mother and kid and take care of them for years, and that’s what Lucy did. She protected our girls when we couldn’t

    Rav glares at her under his heavy brow. You and Lily are here. It’s all he says. It’s all he has to say. Sash and his daughter, Lily-May, are his world and Lucy bringing her shit here has put them in the firing line.

    Plus, there’s half a dozen other kids and women holed up in the

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