Loser_Avenging Angels MC Book 3 Read online

  LOSER

  Avenging Angels MC Book 3

  by

  Nia Farrell

  LOSER: AVENGING ANGELS MC BOOK 3

  by Nia Farrell

  Copyright 2018 by Nia Farrell

  Edited by Anita Quick and Anne Bright

  Cover Design by Crystal Visions

  Stock Photography from depositphotos.com

  Formatting by Anita Quick

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used without the written consent of the author, except for brief quotes in reviews. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any other means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. Such action is in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law.

  Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Release Date May 8, 2018

  Length 44,820 words

  ASIN: B07CN71TYB

  Long Branch Books

  Shattuc, Illinois

  Disclaimers

  This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The use of any real company, organization, and/or product names is for literary effect only. All other trademarks and copyrights are the property of their respective owners.

  TITLES BY NIA FARRELL

  Something Else (The Three Graces Book One)

  Something Different (The Three Graces Book Two)

  Something More (The Three Graces Book Three)

  Dark Moons Rising

  The Three Graces Trilogy (Books 1-3)

  Something Special (The Three Graces Book Six)

  Pride and Punishment—An Erotic Retelling of Jane Austen’s Beloved Classic

  Replay Book 1: Viking Raid

  As Wicked as You Want (Forever Ours Book 1)

  Replay Book 2: Triple Play

  Replay Book 3: Honour Bound

  Replay Set 1: Viking Raid, Triple Play, Honour Bound

  Replay Book 4: Hooked

  Replay Book 5: Night Music

  Replay Book 6: Highland Fling

  Keeper—The Avenging Angels MC Introduction

  Find Her: Avenging Angels MC Book 1

  Wicked Lady

  Replay Book 7: Wing Men

  Replay Set 2: Hooked, Night Music, Highland Fling

  Keeper: Avenging Angels MC Book 2

  Rules of Engagement: A Daddy Don Ageplay Erotic Romance

  Replay Book 8: The Dark Side

  A Wicked Christmas 1869

  Replay Reunion 1: Naughty New Year

  Replay Book 9: Gladiator

  Stitch: Crime Family Values Book 1

  Replay Set 3: Wing Men, The Dark Side, Naughty New Year, Gladiator

  TITLES BY NIA FARRELL WRITING AS ERINN ELLENDER QUINN

  Touch the Wind (Touch the Wind Book 1)

  Ride the Wind (Touch the Wind Book 2)

  Reap the Wind (Touch the Wind Book 3

  Dare the Wind (Touch the Wind Book 4)

  Touch the Wind Set 1: Touch the Wind, Ride the Wind, Reap the Wind

  Highland Desire

  TITLES BY NIA FARRELL WRITING AS REE L. DIEHL

  The SheWolf on the Twentieth Floor (Unbillable Hours #1)

  A Package for Paige (Unbillable Hours #2)

  Dedication

  To misfits everywhere. If you’ve ever felt like you don’t belong, know that you’re not alone. Just remember, if people don’t appreciate the unique soul that you are, that’s their problem, not yours.

  And it’s most definitely their loss.

  ~ Nia Farrell

  #proudtobeageek

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Author Bio and Links

  Previous Titles

  Prologue

  Tuesday, July 19, 2011

  The mood in the Avenging Angels MC clubhouse lounge was somber. Familiar faces were missing. Patched members Lurch, Ratchet, and Knuckles were dead. Their Sergeant-at-Arms, the President’s best friend and brother-in-law Jack Daniels, would be lucky to survive. Old ladies, mamas, and sweetbutts were offering “T” and sympathy to the other casualties. Tokes, tits, tushes—whatever would make the wounded men feel better.

  All Flynn McGee felt was numb.

  He’d been that way since the Blackwater Demons MC kidnapped the President’s daughter. Papa Bear hadn’t said anything, but Flynn blamed himself. Rose McLanahan had been alone, doing his books at Angel Ink when their rivals had broken into the tattoo shop. The Demons had set the building on fire. The sight of her car still parked nearby had made Flynn’s heart seize in his chest. He’d thought that she was dead. That he’d never see her again.

  He would never have the chance to tell her what he’d never had the balls to confess.

  Rose was the princess of the Avenging Angels MC. She was beyond his reach. Earning her submission would forever remain a dream.

  Then word came that she’d been found. Rose was alive—though God knew what kind of shape she’d be in if they managed to recover her. Being held by the Demons…it couldn’t be good.

  He hadn’t been here when Crash brought her back, only to take her away again. They’d been out of harm’s way in the Angels’ safehouse when things got ugly. But she was alive.

  That’s all that mattered.

  As long as Rose lived, there was a chance for him.

  For them.

  The minute Flynn saw Crash come into the lounge with Rose’s brother Mad Dog, the earth stood still. If Crash was here, Rose was here. A sense of euphoria swept over him.

  And then he saw her.

  He couldn’t help it. He ran to her and pulled her into his arms, silently promising to never let her go.

  As many months as Rose had been doing his books, he’d never touched her. His actions caught her off guard.

  She wedged her arms against his chest and pushed. “What the fuck?”

  “I’m so sorry, princess. I should never have left you there alone. It’s all my fault that you were taken. I went nuts, thinking the worst! Jesus Christ, I—”

  “Rose!”

  The sound of his princess’s name coming from Crash’s mouth stopped Flynn mid-sentence. When Crash gave a Dominant’s hand signal, Rose slipped from his hold and knelt at Crash’s feet.

  She was lost to him. Lost.

  “What. The. Fuck?” Mad Dog snapped, pissed that Crash and his little sister were now Dominant and submissive.

  Michael “Crash” O’Flaherty and Avenging Angels MC Vice President Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan had been best friends since kindergarten. They’d served in Marine RECON together. They were brothers in arms, for Christ’s sake. A brother should know better than to mess with a
sister.

  Crash touched Rose’s head and stroked her auburn hair. “Mare knows about us,” he told Mad Dog.

  Okay. Her mother knew. But if they were going to have any chance of a future, they’d need her father’s approval, and he wasn’t here.

  There might be a chance for him yet.

  “I had hoped to speak to Papa Bear first, but she didn’t know when he’d be home from the hospital.” Crash broke the news to Rose that her Uncle Jack, Mama Mare’s brother, had taken a bullet to the chest in the raid that got Mama Mare back from the Demons’ President Reaper. “He made it through surgery, but it’s still touch and go.”

  By this time, the couple had the attention of everyone in the fucking room.

  Crash looked at Rose’s brother. “Mad Dog,” Crash said calmly, “let’s take this somewhere private, please. Rose needs to hear what went down. Everything.”

  Mad Dog thrust his fingers into his hair, loosening tawny strands from the leather thong that tied it back. “Goddammit, Crash! Shit!”

  Feeling her brother’s anger, Rose hugged Michael’s leg. The action wasn’t lost on Mad Dog…or Flynn.

  “Fuck. All right. My room. Now,” Mad Dog growled. “You’ll be getting the Reader’s Digest condensed version, ‘cause I don’t have time for any more shit than we’ve already got going on.”

  Flynn told himself that there was still hope for him—for them, slim though it might be. Patrick “Papa Bear” McLanahan’s approval was crucial if Rose wanted a relationship with her parents and four brothers. But Flynn couldn’t forget how Rose had knelt for another man. Crash had commanded and she had obeyed. If Crash had earned Rose’s submission, he may well have won her heart.

  Flynn watched them go. Remembering how Crash had touched his princess, Flynn had the sinking feeling that Rose McLanahan was forever out of his reach.

  Loser.

  Chapter One

  Friday, July 11, 2014

  “Are you sure she’s ready, Mad Dog? I mean, it’s only been a month.”

  Flynn didn’t want to piss off the club VP, but he’d seen the changes in Mad Dog’s submissive since she had been kidnapped. Post-rape PTSD triggers and Krav Maga training made Isabella Castellari a dangerous woman. One wrong move and he’d find his ass flat on the floor.

  Or worse.

  Mad Dog rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve been talking about it. I’m pretty sure she’s up for it, but, fuck, we won’t know for certain until she tries. Angel Ink is her best shot at making a go of it. At least working here, you know what to expect. You’re not going to give Isabella grief if she has an appointment with her therapist or doubt her word if she tells you that there’s someone or something that she can’t handle. If she can manage work, I’m hoping that she can start classes at SIU in August. If it doesn’t look like she’s ready, she may have to wait until next semester to commute and take what classes she can online.”

  Flynn was torn. He knew how the couple had struggled after Isabella was found. It was clear in their kink sessions that she wanted to be punished for what happened. Mad Dog might be a sadist, but he knew when Isabella had had enough, regardless of how much she begged for more.

  “Look,” he said, “I want to help. We’re handicapped without someone reliable to answer the phone and work the front counter. We need someone who’ll show up on time, keep the artists busy, and not be looking to pad their paycheck with theft or solicitation or both.

  Mad Dog smirked. “Like the last one?”

  Flynn grimaced and pushed the stray hair back from his face. “All right. I admit it. I let my cock rule my head over that last hire.” He sighed heavily. “She did have a sweet pussy.”

  Mad Dog snorted his disgust. “She was a fucking cunt. I was tempted to sic the Death Angel on her, but no sense hiring outside help when inside is willing and available, right?”

  “Right.” Iceman had been more than happy to dispense club justice. Holly hadn’t been seen since he was given the assignment. Flynn wasn’t about to ask questions. Honestly, he didn’t want to know. Inflicting pain during a session of kink—or kink and ink—was as much as he wanted to hurt a woman, and then, it had to be consensual.

  Mad Dog gave credit where it was due. “It’s a good thing that Rose has an eye for shit like this.”

  His CPA sister’s attention to detail was just one of the things that Flynn admired about the woman. Rose still haunted his dreams. More so, now that she was pregnant. It could have been his baby—not Crash’s—growing inside her if he’d just had the fucking guts to tell her how he felt.

  “When she suspected that Holly was skimming, it only took a day to dig up the proof.”

  Thanks to Rose and the club assassin Iceman, Holly was history. At least Isabella wouldn’t be a distraction. No temptation to yield to.

  And the business needed her.

  Flynn glanced at the phone, which had been unusually quiet today. Who knew how many appointments they’d lost because someone had to wait for a call-back? “We’re understaffed now. When can she start? As far as I’m concerned, the sooner, the better.”

  “Is next week okay? That gives me time to get her T-shirts made. I’m putting ‘Property of Mad Dog, Vice Pres, Avenging Angels MC’ on the front and angel wings on the back. Any man stupid enough to hit on her after that deserves what’s coming. If she doesn’t fucking take them down, tell me and I will. You hear me?”

  “I hear you,” Flynn assured him. Hopefully, identifying Isabella as the VP’s property would ensure that Flynn would never have to make that call. At the very least, Mad Dog’s tees would avert most problems and boost his old lady’s confidence. She needed to feel safe. Any woman who’d survived what she had more than fucking deserved it.

  Mad Dog nodded. “Good. What time?”

  “Shop hours are eleven to seven, Tuesday through Saturday. If you bring her in at ten on Tuesday, I can show her the ropes before we need to start answering the phone.”

  “Ten o’clock Tuesday. Will do, Picasso.”

  Officially, Picasso was Flynn’s road name, as much for his custom paint jobs on bikes as for his tattoos. But the nod to his artistry was so fucking highbrow, nearly everyone called him by his legal name. That is, after the first time a prospect shortened it to Pic and found himself laid out cold on the floor.

  His fucking hand had hurt like a sonofabitch for days. He’d had to shift some jobs to Kaylee and reschedule some others, but the prospect learned his lesson and Angel Ink carried on.

  Mad Dog huffed out a cleansing breath. “I’m hoping like fuck that this suits her. I know she’ll be good for you. She’s sharp, with an eye for design. If she stays, you might want to think about teaching her some basics. Let one of the others handle the phone between appointments.”

  Flynn had seen Isabella’s photography, but an artist’s eye to crop and frame a picture didn’t necessarily translate to working with needles and ink. Still, the club could always use another tattoo artist to cover when they needed it. Right now, besides himself, Kaylee and Blue did tats. Gryphon did tats, but his specialty was piercing. Each of them had a private room, set up just the way they wanted it. When the old building burned, he made sure that the new location had the space that they needed. Isabella could work in the spare room that they kept for guest artists.

  “If you have a minute, I’ll get the employment application. She can fill it out and bring it back with photocopies of her ID’s.”

  Mad Dog nodded. “I’ll wait. Better yet, I’ll look through your portfolio and see if I can find a tat for Isabella. She could use a little ink.”

  Flynn went to his office, pulled a blank employment application from the filing cabinet, and brought it back to Mad Dog. “Find anything?”

  “Some possibilities,” he said, flipping another page. “We’ll bring her in, let her get a feel for things. Learn everyone’s style. See what ink she likes best. Then we can custom-design a piece that she’ll be happy with long-term. There’s nothing sadder than a tat
with regrets.”

  “Don’t I know it. Cover-ups are fucking routine, man.”

  “More business for you. Too bad we had to pass on the TV show, but the club can’t afford to let in cameras. There’d be no fucking way to hide shit if that happened.”

  With four artists, it was easy enough to pad the books with fake paid appointments. When it came to laundering club money, every little bit helped.

  Still, the recognition would have been nice. The sweetbutts at the clubhouse had been impressed enough by the offer, he’d had them begging for his attention every night for two weeks and then some.

  “It shouldn’t be a problem with your old lady, given her family.”

  “It shouldn’t, but I’ll make sure that she knows to turn a blind eye, just like Rose.”

  Hearing her name struck a minor chord on Flynn’s heartstrings. Between Rose’s morning sickness and Isabella’s triggers, he was neck-deep in women with issues. The thing is, bad news comes in threes. He’d been holding his breath since Mercury retrograde, waiting for something to show. So far Kaylee was solid. Thank fuck. A problem client, he could handle. He needed his number two artist running on all cylinders.

  Mad Dog flipped through the application and nodded his head. “I’ll have Isabella do these and bring everything with us next week. Are you coming to the party tonight? No late night appointments, right?”

  “Not tonight.” He wished he had that excuse. His favorite kinks were better done here than at the clubhouse. When his evening was free, he happily joined the BDSM action in the lounge. Club members were Dominants as well as bikers. The women allowed in the gate, from old ladies down, were submissives. There were enough mamas and sweetbutts to see to a single man’s needs. Or men’s needs, for the ones like Renata and Cassidy who preferred threesomes, foursomes, or moresomes. “I’m gonna grab a bite when we’re done for the day. I’ll be home after that.”

  He didn’t tell Mad Dog that he planned to stay away as long as he could. Rose and Crash’s engagement was announced in this morning’s paper. Tonight was a party to celebrate. If there was any way to miss it, he would, but her father Papa Bear was President. Mad Dog was her brother. Attending was a show of respect for their leaders.