Satan’s Sons have changed their ways. Under Reaper and Abby’s leadership they no longer live to create chaos, but direct their energies into protecting their small town of Snake Valley. They do such a good job of getting rid of the riffraff that the law looks the other way at their methods and even enlists their help. Can Abby and Reaper finally break free and forge their own happily ever after?
Age Rating: 18+
The light poured into our bedroom, lemony and velvet.
I’m the first one awake, which is unusual.
Abby was the early riser. She’s also the last to bed. Really, between the two of us, I’m the one with the normal sleeping schedule.
Her breathing was soft and rhythmic, the kind associated with deep sleep.
It’s been a long year with a lot of changes. Maybe too many changes.
But when the shafts of dewy morning light dusted her softly freckled skin or highlighted her long baby fine lashes, all I want to do is run my hands through her downy hair.
She’s let it grow back to blond, warm as honey. It’ll eventually bleach out the more it's exposed to the hot outback sun. For now, she kept it short. So short, I have to use the number two clippers when she has me shave it for her.
It’s not my favorite style, but she says it keeps it from getting in the way of targets she might have in her crosshairs. So, if it makes Abby happy, it makes me and the rest of the biker gang happy.
And I’d do anything for my VP of Satan’s Sons.
Except… maybe let her sleep in.
Abby wore a pair of black lacy panties and my favorite muscle tank. One of her petal pink nipples had slipped out, winking at me. Reaching out, I cupped her breast, gently massaging it with my thumb. I pecked and nibbled at her neck.
She wriggled and turned away from me, pressing her hips into my groin. My cock, already at half-mast from the sight of her, went full sail. Her breathing changed, and she reached back, running a hand through my hair.
I noticed her forearm was smudged with flecks of dry paint.
Ah, that’s what kept her up so late. She’d been painting.
Well, this could be her reward.
I pulled her closer, and Abby hooked a leg over mine, linking us. She rubbed herself along my shaft. The softness of her panties across my penis was amazing, but as her panties soaked through with her wetness, I went over the edge. Reaching down, I crooked a finger through a strap and tugged Abby free of the layer separating us.
She moaned, and I slipped into her tight little pussy.
Snug and warm, she rippled and moved against me, making my heart beat hard against my ribs. Or was it her heartbeat? Our rhythm was easy and sweet. Kissing the length of her neck, I reached through the wide gaps of the tank and squeezed her silky breasts.
We moved faster. Abby arched, her spine curving as she drove herself back against me while I returned the favor thrusting forward. The noises she was making amped up my pace, and it was like the roar of an engine on the open road.
How lucky was I that I got to wake up to this beautiful sight every morning?
That I get to feel this alive?
We moved faster, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to hear her scream my name. I pulled out slowly, almost to the tip, and Abby groaned in displeasure.
“Don’t. You. Dare stop now,” she panted.
I laughed and pushed back in even slower.
“Kade,” Abby huffed. “Please—”
I swiveled my hips, filling every inch of her. But I wanted to hear my name one more time. I brushed my lips along the back of her neck and rocked back and forth, once again watching that graceful curve of her spine arch.
“God, Kade—” Abby gasped, and I hugged her closer, pulling her into me until we became one. I pumped faster as she continued to call out my name. “Kade! Kade! KADE!”
We came as one, breathless with pleasure and release.
We stayed like that a second longer, basking in the afterglow.
Then Abby got up, pushing her way out of my grasp.
I let her go, but not without regret.
It's just the way it was with Abby. The harder you held on, the harder she fought to leave, no matter how much she or I wanted her to stay.
I watched as she made her way to the dresser, rummaging through it until she found the compact she was looking for. Abby fished out a contraceptive and popped the pill out of the blister pack and into her mouth.
She caught my stare in the mirror while sipping from her water bottle.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she chided.
It was hard not to.
Her body. Her choice.
But it still hurt.
Because it was my choice too… wasn’t it?
She’d done something like this once before when she had an abortion and blamed it on a miscarriage. I knew about the pregnancy, and while the idea of a child was frightening, deep down, it was secretly thrilling.
“Come on, Kade.” Abby made her way to the restroom. The squeak and sound of running water followed her. She poked her head out again. “We got a raid to plan, remember? The sooner we finish this, the better.”
* * *
There are three things that get my heart pumping: The purr and steady rumble of an engine at my fingertips. The naked sight of my wife and the beginning of a raid. Not necessarily in that order.
I had already experienced the first two today, and the third? Well, that was about to go off right now. The hour was late, the night thick with anticipation. The crew Abby and I put together for tonight’s operation was small but talented. Good with bikes and even better with guns.
They would have to be when hunting down HellBound.
We’d gotten word through our contacts that Blake's biker gang would be moving some cargo through Avoca, and that was just stupid. Avoca, like Snake Valley, was Satan’s Sons’ territory.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, these bloody tits weren’t moving guns or drugs. No. They were moving people.
And that’s something that we do not stand for.
Since the campground in the Avoca Reserve was remote, we had to leave the bikes back on the Pyrenees Highway. As much as we loved our bikes, we couldn’t risk the roaring engines giving our position away. For the next two miles, we found ourselves tracking through the bush and wattle trees of the reserve. While their high canopies were a blessing during the day, they turned into a curse at night, plunging the forest and our crew of twenty bikers into darkness.
“How much further?” Abby whispered harshly to my right.
Her eyes glimmered in the dark, sparked by the thought of finally capturing her greatest prey: Blake Campbell, the leader of HellBound.
I checked the GPS on my tactical watch.
“We’re close,” I whispered back.
That’s when we heard it—the loud, thumping bass of bad music.
Good. They’d never know what hit them if they were too busy partying.
“Who blasts music that loud when they’re on a job?” Ox grumbled, which was saying something because Ox might be the strongest bloke in Satan’s Sons, but definitely not the brightest.
“Only an idiot,” Abby answered.
“Bloody idiots,” Ox agreed. “Giving away their location thinking it’s safe just ‘cus they're out in the forest reserve.”
Abby looked up at me.
Even in the dark of night, her skin glistened, and I just wanted to touch it. I could’ve torn off her shorts right then and fucked her under a ceiling of leaves and stars.
“Alright, this is where I leave you.” Abby brought me back to the matter at hand. “Gimme a text when you’re ready.”
“But there’s no signal out here,” I protested. “Even the coordinates on my tac watch were a guess at best once we entered the tree line.”
“I’m not worried. You’ll figure something out,” she said with a wink. “You always do.”
Then she melted into the darkness with her rifle.
I signaled to the rest of the crew, and we moved again. The trees had started to thin out, revealing the camp's main rec hall. It was a sizable single-story hall with lots of windows and three exits. Pools of sallow light oozed out the broken glass like a gapped-toothed mouth. The weathered siding vibrated in time with the bass.
I sent a handful of men around the back to the kitchen exit. Another handful to the main doors and scattered the rest to slink under windows, crouching with weapons drawn and ready.
Ox and I silently made our way toward the side entrance, leaving only puffs of dust in our wake.
I peeked through the dirt-smeared glass of the side door. There’s a mixture of HellBound and Stonefish pledges in the main hall. No one was on watch. Everyone drank a frothy or snorted a white line. The air was thick with the haze of nicotine and sickly sweet vape. I spotted them, far in the corner of the main hall, a small group of girls.
Not one could be over the age of fourteen. All of them were bound at the wrist with zip ties and gagged with duct tape.
What the fuck was Blake into?
I looked away from the scene, gripping my shotgun so tight the stock creaked under the pressure.
“Boss?” Ox asked. “What do ya wanna do? We can’t just go in guns blazing. Not now.”
“I know—” That’s when I noticed the large powerline leading towards the generator, and an idea formed in my head. Abby needed a signal, right? Well, I just found it.
I pointed out the cord to Ox. “See the generator?”
“Follow it, cut it on the count of three, then we toss in the flash-bangs. Wait for them to run out and take them down.”
Ox relayed the orders to the rest of the crew and made to take off but suddenly stopped.
“What?” I ask.
“Reaper, do you think Blake is in there?” Ox whispered.
“No,” I answered bluntly.
Ox did a double take.
“Do you think Abby would’ve come otherwise?” I asked.
“No.” Ox shook his head. “She’s gonna be so pissed.”
“And that’s different from when?”
Ox snorted. “Never.”
Ox made it to the generator, ready to cut the power. I hold out one finger to start the countdown. Then two. But I never made it to three.
“Hey, boys,” Abby snarked at HellBound. “Is this where the party’s at?”
I peeked inside, and my stomach churned with what I saw. Abby hung on the swinging saloon doors between the kitchen and main hall where all the HellBound blokes drank. They stared at her, their eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Then one brave (stupid) soul stood up. “Who are you?”
“Karma,” Abby answered, then whipped out her sidearm and shot him right between the eyes.
“Shut it down!” I shouted in what felt like slow motion.
I kicked in the door, but not before Abby hit two more HellBound Bikers. One in the chest and another in the neck. Blood splattered and spewed over the screaming girls.
Finally, the high hum of electricity and deep thrumming music cut out, leaving everyone in darkness. The girls screamed louder. Glass shattered, followed by the light of muzzle fire.
“Protect the girls!” I ordered as I ran towards Abby, tackling her to the ground. We rolled, and I scrambled to drag her behind the saloon doors, landing in the kitchen.
I hear tables slam on the ground as they transform from lunch benches to shields.
“What the fuck, Reaper?” Abby yelled, twisting away from my grip. “I had it covered.”
“You were supposed to wait for the signal.”
“You took too long,” she argued. “What if Blake got away?”
“Blake?” I repeated. “Did you see him?”
Abby didn’t answer me.
“I swear, Abby.” I stared at her, even if I couldn’t see her in this bloody darkness. “You will be the death of me, woman.”
As my eyes adjusted to the dark, she blew me a kiss and a wink, sticking her handgun between the saloon doors for a blind shot.
“No.” I knocked the gun sideways, pressing her into the floor. “You might hit the girls.”
Abby’s jaw clenched like she fought a biting retort. But she swallowed it, her breasts heaving with the effort.
“What do you want me to do?” she said instead. “Ask them politely to drop their guns?”
“Wait.” I kissed her forehead, and that made her tremble with anger. “Just wait.”
Then I whistled, high and short.
Flashbangs hit the floor with flat, heavy thuds, filling the hall with foggy spits of smoke. Everyone coughed with rasping retches, and even I started to tear up.
Abby tore at her shirt, using the cloth as a mask. I approved of the method and winked, even as she frowned in irritation. She’s itching to move, but I will sit on her if it means I got her to wait.
“Out!” a HellBound man choked out. “Everyone out!”
“That’s our cue.” I grabbed Abby by the hand, leading her out of the kitchen. As we cleared the door, we were halted by the sight of guns pointed at our chests.
“Whoa,” Ox ordered. “That’s Reaper and Abby. Lower your weapons.”
They do, and as soon as we were clear, Abby ripped her hand out of mine.
“You fucker,” Abby spat. “You knew Blake wasn’t here.”
I didn’t acknowledge her anger. I needed to make sure my men and the girls were alright. Walking around the rec hall, I see my plan worked.
“Reaper,” Abby yelled my name. “You lied to me. Are you even serious about Blake? Does Kim mean nothing to you?”
At that, I whipped around.
“Don’t use Kim like that,” I spat. “She deserves better than to be used as a plot device in your revenge story.”
That shut her up.
“You should be pleased.” I sighed, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. “We just saved all these girls from sex trafficking. None of our crew got seriously hurt. This is a win. Why are you acting as if you lost?”
Abby’s lip trembled.
“Because I did,” Abby said shakily, but I can’t tell if it’s from sadness or fury. Maybe it's both. “And I will every day until I find Blake and give him the ending he deserves.”
At that, she spun on her heels and marched away from me.
“I was right,” Ox said from behind me. “She’s pissed.”
I watched her exquisite form melt into the tree line.
“And that’s different from when?” I asked gruffly.
“Never,” we answered at the same time.