Salvation: Burnt Kings MC #1 Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1 - Mickie

  Chapter 2 - Scott

  Chapter 3 - Mickie

  Chapter 4 - Scott

  Chapter 5 - Mickie

  Chapter 6 - Scott

  Chapter 7 - Mickie

  Chapter 8 - Scott

  Chapter 9 - Mickie

  Chapter 10 - Scott

  Chapter 11 - Mickie

  Chapter 12 - Scott

  Chapter 13 - Mickie

  Chapter 14 - Scott

  Chapter 15 - Mickie

  Chapter 16 - Scott

  Chapter 17 - Mickie

  Chapter 18 - Scott

  Chapter 19 - Mickie

  Chapter 20 - Scott

  Epilogue - Mickie

  Epilogue - Scott

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1 - Mickie

  Another holding cell. I hate holding cells. At least I can get a real meal in my actual cell instead of these peanut butter sandwiches they give you in the holding cells. Have I mentioned that I absolutely hate peanut butter? I’m pregnant too, which means I have to eat...but I refuse to eat this shit. They couldn’t even give us jelly...what kind of shit is this?! What if I’m allergic to peanut butter?

  I went to school to advocate for people in my situation and now I’m here. Am I disappointed in myself? No. In my heart, I know that I need to go through this to understand what my clients go through in order to be the best criminal lawyer I can be. I look up and see the bailiff coming to get me for court, and I walk out as the door closes loudly behind me. I walk down the hall towards the courtroom and walk in a courtroom that’s much warmer than I anticipated.

  I look down at the table as the judge reads my charges while he looks at me with sympathy and compassion.

  “Ms. Davenport, I’m going to order that you do a pretrial intervention program so you’ll still be able to sit for the bar once all this is over. I hope one day you’ll be back in my courtroom advocating for someone that’s in the same circumstance you’re in now,” he says.

  I’m so relieved I burst into tears. At this point, I’m so full of relief that I don’t even notice any of the people in the courtroom until they take me back to the holding cell. As I sit here and consider how lucky I am right now, I hear a tap on the glass of the holding cell across from me. I look up and see a gorgeous, tattoo-covered man. He’s a little over six feet tall, with green eyes and big muscles, and has tattoos cover his whole body.

  “Are you ok?” he mouths.

  I nod, smile at him, and give him a thumb’s up. Regardless of what people say about jail, I’ve met some of the nicest people ever in the month I’ve been in here, and they aren’t the people that work here. A court officer walks over to the cute man’s cell, opens it, and escorts him to the courtroom. As he walks by my cell, I give him a thumbs up and mouth good luck. He smirks at me and mouths his thanks. I guess it's time to start a new phase in my life even though I have no idea what I’m about to do or where I’m about to go.

  Chapter 2 - Scott

  I don’t know what it is about this girl, but something about her reminds me of something that I lost long ago. As the bailiff takes me from my holding cell and leads me into the courtroom, I start asking some questions.

  “So what’s with the girl, Steve?” I ask. “She doesn’t seem like the regular type of girl that comes through this place.”

  Steve laughs. I’ve known Steve since elementary school when I realized he had a crush on my little sister. We hang out from time to time when I’m not getting arrested, and he used to be married to my sister. I actually think they still love each other, but it’s a very complicated situation. I see them gaze at each other every once in a while, and Steve always asks about her whenever I see him. I hope they can figure it out because Steve’s not a bad dude, even if he’s a cop.

  “Just a Davenport woman who has gone through some bad shit in her life and ended up here. She’s the youngest of the Davenport family,” he responds.

  “The Davenport family? I didn’t even know that stuck up bitch had another adult kid,” I say with disgust. The Davenport family is the richest family in town, but they do some pretty shady business. Hell, she’s been trying to put me out of business for years. “I heard they just had a new baby, though.”

  “Yea, that’s her kid. The mom paid off some social workers and a CPS attorney to get custody of her daughter,” he says sadly. “She was just talking about it in the courtroom, and the story had me emotional, man. Judge Reynolds felt bad and gave her PTI so she could get her life back on track. You know how he feels about that family, and it helps that she wants to be a lawyer.”

  Damn. I don’t understand what type of parents could do that to their daughter, but when I think about the Davenport family, I can’t say I’m surprised. I also feel for her because I know what it’s like to have something so precious taken from you. She reminds me of myself when I was around that age and I thought the world was my oyster. Then it all came crashing down. I walk in the courtroom and look at Judge Reynolds.

  “Ace,” he says with that normal reprimanding look in his eyes. “Why are you in my courtroom again, son?”

  I look at Judge Reynolds, who’s my uncle, with a look of pure innocence in my eyes.

  “I’m not quite sure, Uncle Joe. They say they brought me in on alleged drug trafficking charges, but failed to show me any proof,” I say innocently.

  “Alleged, huh?” he questions. He then takes his glasses off and rubs his forehead like he has a headache. “Son, when will I stop seeing you in my courtroom? I know the police never find anything in that clubhouse of yours, or that house of yours, so why do I keep seeing you?”

  “You have to ask the arresting officers instead of me, Uncle Joe,” I respond. He turns to the two officers with a questioning look and they both turn red and shrink down.

  Those two pricks are guys are former football players that I beat the shit out of my senior year of high school, and they still haven’t gotten over it. Small town problems and all that, and Winslow is a small town with so many damn problems. Everybody knows everybody. Every time they think they’ve busted me, they come up empty-handed. It’s become a game of sorts, especially because I know they’ll never going to find my stash. Besides, marijuana is becoming legal in a lot of states now and I’m just buying my time until I can open up a dispensary. You’d be surprised at how many of these small-town people smoke marijuana.

  “Well, since there’s no proof and police searches have come up short again, I have to drop the charges. Just know this, kid, you won’t always be so lucky and I won’t be lenient when that time comes,” he tells me. “Now get your ass out of my courtroom. Your damn momma has been calling and nagging me ever since you got arrested.”

  I laugh. Good ol’ momma. My dad and I haven’t had the best relationship, mainly because he cheated on her with club girls most of their marriage, but momma has always been my rock. Even though she divorced my dad a long time ago, she’s still pretty good friends with Uncle Joe. Honestly, I think he’s harboring some feelings towards her but never acted on them out of respect for my dad. Steve grabs my arm to lead me back to the holding cell to be discharged, but I have one more question.

  “What about the girl that was here before me, Uncle Joe?” I ask with curiosity.

  He looks up from his paperwork and stares at me for a long time. “Why are you asking?”

  “I don’t know. Just curious,” I reply.

  “Mmmhmm,” he says knowingly. “Well I’m sure Steve already told you who she was, but I can’t divulge anything else to you. Remember this though son, you can’t relive the past and I don’t want that girl getting attached to you if you’re not serious. I k
now what goes on in that clubhouse of yours and she’s not one of those types of women. Now, get out of my courtroom.”

  I walk beside Steve to the holding cell, but she’s already gone. I hope she’s still waiting in the lobby when I get out. Thank fuck Steve is doing my discharge paperwork because those other two pricks would’ve gone out of their way to make the process last longer. Steve hands me my clothes and other valuables, and while I get dressed we chat a little.

  “How’s your sister?” he asks. I smirk because he asks me about Harley pretty much every time we see each other.

  “She’s doing good, man,” I say. “A little lonely...but good.”

  Steve looks so sad at that last sentence, and I have to admit I said it on purpose just to see if he still had strong feelings for her. His feelings are apparently as strong as ever because his eyes look like he’s about to cry, and I feel like shit. I pat him on the shoulder in sympathy and make my way to the exit. I pause when I realize she’s still in the lobby, but I don’t want to approach her.

  “She has nowhere to go, man. If you offered her a place to stay, you may be able to get to know her,” Steve confides in me knowing I spend most of my time at the clubhouse anyways. “No pregnant woman should be out in the world without support, and she can at least stay in that house you never live in.”

  That’s a pretty good idea. Well, I might as well shoot my shot. Here it goes.

  Chapter 3 - Mickie

  I get processed out of the jail and sit in the lobby waiting for daylight. I’m a little relieved because it gives me time to think about my next moves. I screwed up my last semester at law school since I’ve been absent for about a month, and I’m going to have to withdraw from this semester. I also don’t have a place to live so I need to figure that out too.

  “Where ya headed?” a deep, gravelly voice asks me. I turn around and see the sexy man in tattoos I saw in the holding cell.

  “I’m not really sure. I’m still thinking about it.”

  “Well,” he says. “Seeing as you’re pregnant and need a place to go, you can come with me. My club brother is bringing my bike in his truck and you can ride with him. No pregnant women on the bike...sorry.”

  I look him up and down and realize he’s wearing a leather vest that says president on it. My knowledge of motorcycle clubs consists of reading Bink Cummings books on my Kindle. That reminds me, I need to get my stuff from my ex's house but I don’t know how I can go about doing so. Just the thought of it has me crying.

  “Hey beautiful,” he says softly. “Don’t cry. I’m not a serial killer or anything, I just want to help you out.” I laugh.

  “It’s not that,” I say. “I’m just thinking about how my life has gone to shit.”

  “Well,” he says. “I’m offering to help you clean your shit life up. You can stay at my house rent-free until you have the baby. I live at the clubhouse pretty much full-time anyways.”

  “I can’t accept that,” I say softly.

  “How about this,” he offers. “You can clean my house and cook for me in exchange for a place to live, and when the baby’s born, we’ll find you a job. You got any skills?”

  I laugh. “I was in my last semester of law school until I got locked up.”

  “No shit?” he asks. “How the hell did you end up here?”

  “It’s a long story,” I say.

  “I’ve got time. Ratchet won’t be here for another hour,” he responds.

  So I sit there and tell him my whole story. I tell him about how I got knocked up by a narcissistic meth addict, and how I lost custody of my first child due to his negligence. I tell him about how my mother colluded with CPS to take my child away from me, and how my dad is on her side and always has her back regardless of how wrong she may be. Finally, I tell him about how they cut me off so, in desperation, I forged my dad’s name on loan paperwork so I could continue school. Once I finish my story, we just sit there in silence.

  “Sounds to me like your mother is a selfish, manipulative bitch and your dad is her pawn. You’ve never been in trouble, but they turned their back on you the one time you needed them most. Now, you’re pregnant again and she’ll probably try to take your new kid. You know what you’re having yet?”

  “No,” I say. “I was in jail when I would’ve had my doctor’s appointment to determine the sex of the baby.”

  “Well,” he says. “I’m not going to let those shitty ass parents of yours bring you down. You don’t need them anymore. You’ll have me and the club at your back. We have fancy lawyers too, you know. How do you think I beat a trafficking charge?”

  Damn. A trafficking charge? His attorney must be good as hell. I hope to be an attorney like that one day.

  “My club brother just pulled up. You taking what I’m offering?” he questions. He stands up and holds his hand out for me, and I place my hand in his. What the hell...why not? It’s not like I have anywhere else to go. I place my hand in his and we walk out the door. For all I know this man could be a serial killer or a sex trafficker, but there’s something about him that I trust. Besides, my situation can’t really get any worse than it already is so I need to take a leap of faith. This man may not even realize it, but he just became my salvation.

  Chapter 4 - Scott

  I can’t believe she just agreed to my offer. I can barely hold my excitement. I still don’t know what it is about this girl, but she definitely reminds me of the life I could’ve lived and the family I could’ve had.

  Only some of the older club brothers and my family know the story. When I was eighteen, I was at a crossroads in my life. I didn’t know whether to join the motorcycle club my father was part of or join the military. When I was visiting my father at the club, I met this girl named Sarah. She was a little bit older than me, but she was cool and sweet and we started dating. She grew up in the club, and couldn’t imagine leaving it, but she also didn’t want to do the long-distance thing so I stayed home and joined the Burnt Kings MC.

  They called me Ace because I was the first son of the founding members to become a prospect. My best friend Ratchet wasn’t too far behind me and has pretty much been with me since the beginning. I was a hang around my senior year of high school, and they made me a prospect on my eighteenth birthday. My prospect time was complete shit. Since I was the first son of a founding member to prospect, not only did I have to do the shittiest jobs, but I’ve had one of the longest prospecting periods in club history. I was later told that they were making me an example so the other guys would know to take shit seriously. They also knew I had the makings of a leader. Looking back, I realize that some of the guys fucking with Sarah probably told her this and she latched on to me hoping to be the old lady of the next club president.

  You know that phrase, ‘You can’t turn a ho into a housewife?’. Well, that was one hundred percent the case when it came to Sarah. Not only was she fucking with other brothers behind my back, but she was fucking with my father, who was still married to my mother at the time. Ratchet, momma, and my sister all tried to tell me what was going on but I was young, stupid, and in love. About a year after I joined the club, on my twenty-first birthday, she told me she was pregnant with my child and I believed her. I built a beautiful cabin-style house for us to raise our family in, but it all came crashing down faster than I could blink an eye.

  I came back to our house to discover Sarah fucking my father, in our house...in my bed. That was the last straw for me and my mother. Momma was able to deal with dad’s infidelities, but she couldn’t forgive him for betraying his own son like that. I now realize he did it because he knew I was destined to lead the club that he always wanted to lead. I kicked Sarah out of my house and called Ratchet to change all the locks in the house so she couldn’t get back in. When she realized I changed all the locks, she hunted me down at the clubhouse and made a scene where she admitted to sleeping around on me. She also admitted that her baby probably wasn’t mine. Thank god she was just my old lady, and I never actually
married the bitch. She would’ve tried to take me to court and taken half my shit.

  Did I also mention that she was a meth addict the entire time? Yup. Basically, everyone assumed I already knew so they thought I was okay with the shit and never said anything. She was bringing all types of addicts and shit into my house when I was out on club runs, and they were stealing my shit and selling it for meth. So now I have this perfect house for a family, and no family to live in it. Honestly, the memories are so bad I can barely step foot in it but I don’t have the heart to sell it. I've always had this weird feeling that I built it for the perfect old lady/wife and the perfect family, but since that doesn’t look like it’s happening anytime soon, I may as well let someone in need use it. What better than a single mother in need who can use my house to bounce back in life and hopefully help the future of this club?

  I hold my hand out and she slips her small hand into mine, and I instantly feel calm. Like I said before, I’m not sure what it is about this Davenport woman, but I think I just made one of the best decisions of my life. Let’s just hope I don’t eat my words.

  Chapter 5 - Mickie

  We walk out to the parking lot hand in hand before I realize I never asked his name.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  He chuckles and grins. “My name is Scott, but everybody calls me Prez or Ace. In fact, other than some of the older brothers, you’re the only one who knows my real name. Most people don’t bother to ask.”

  “Why do they call you Ace?” I ask.

  “Cuz I’m number one, baby,” he says wiggling his eyebrows. I laugh, knowing that’s probably not the reason, but I let it slide because another question pops in my head.

  “Do you mind if I call you Scott?” I ask.

  He stops walking and turns my face to look at him. He stares at me until a bald man standing by a truck in the parking lot whistles at us.