Slay (Storm MC #4)
Slay
Book 4 in the Storm MC Series
by Nina Levine
Table of Contents
Title Page
Slay (Storm MC, #4)
A Note About The Storm MC Series
Copyright
Nina Levine
Dedication
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
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Slay Playlist
Frequently Asked Questions
Nina Levine
Sneak Peek of All Your Reasons
Sneak Peek of Breaking Kate by D. Kelly
Cover designed by Louisa @ LM Creations
http://lmbookcreations.wordpress.com/portfolio/
Cover Model: Scott King
Stock Image from Dollar Photo Club
www.dollarphotoclub.com
Editing by Karen Louise Rohde Faergemann at The Word Wench Editing Services
http://wordwenchediting.wordpress.com
A Note About The Storm MC Series
Each book in this series continues on from the previous. While there won’t be major cliffhangers in each book, there will be parts of the story that won’t be resolved, so please be aware of this. All loose ends will be tied up by the end of the series.
It is recommended that each book be read in order.
WARNING:
For Mature Audience 18+
Contains Adult Sexual Situations & Language
Copyright
Copyright © 2014 Nina Levine
Published by Nina Levine
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Nina Levine is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs, musicians or artists mentioned in this book. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Nina Levine
USA Today & International Bestselling Author
Also by Nina Levine
Storm MC Series
In Order:
Storm (Storm MC #1)
Fierce (Storm MC #2)
Blaze (Storm MC #2.5)
Revive (Storm MC #3)
Slay (Storm MC #4)
Illusive (Storm MC #5) – COMING 2015
Command (Storm MC #6) – COMING 2015
Havoc Series
Destined Havoc (Havoc #1)
Inevitable Havoc (Havoc #2) – COMING 2015
Crave Series
All Your Reasons (Crave #1)
Keep up to date with my books at my website
http://ninalevinebooks.blogspot.com.au
Dedication
To everyone who struggles to accept themselves for who they truly are...
It’s okay to embrace our flaws and own them...
To accept every part of ourselves
And love ourselves
And to let others love us, too.
“Sometimes you have to shatter to find strength. And sometimes you have to let someone in to help you put the pieces back together.”
~ Layla
Prologue
Blade - 12 years old
My father was the meanest person I knew. No one even came close. I’d always thought he hated my mother and me, but the things he was saying and doing today just proved it. As I huddled in the corner of the kitchen, I chanted a prayer over and over in my mind, madly hoping God would listen.
There was a God, right?
My mother had always told me there was, but I’d never seen any proof. The only things I’d ever seen were a bare pantry, clothes that either didn’t fit me anymore or had holes in them, a mother who was hardly home because she was working two jobs to keep a roof over our heads, and a mostly absent father. Further proof God probably didn’t exist was when my father did visit, he often left us with bruises to remember him by. I wasn’t sure, but I figured if there was a God, he wouldn’t have let all that happen.
I didn’t often call him Dad. He was Marcus to me. I knew he wasn’t like a real father; he never did anything for us I saw other fathers do. And while he always had a temper, today he was really angry. Fear painted my mother’s face, and dread filled my gut.
“Why the fuck is that asshole from the grocery store asking you out on a date?” he roared at my mother.
She cowered under his harsh words and furious glare. “I don’t know, Marcus. I never encouraged him.” Her eyes were pleading with him to believe her. I knew from experience he wouldn’t.
He lashed out and slapped her face. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Stella.”
Her hand flew to her face. “I’m not.” She tried to defend herself but he wasn’t buying any of it.
The crack of his fist landing on her cheek almost made me vomit. He’d never been this violent towards her before. When he arrived at the house half an hour ago, I knew straight away he wasn’t right. He was angrier than usual. And when he started going on about something he’d heard about the man at the grocery store, I knew nothing good would come of today.
He continued to rant at her and hit her. I covered my ears and started chanting prayers in my head again.
Please, God . . . if you’re there, please make him leave us alone. I’ll do anything, just make him stop.
I wanted to help my mother; I wanted to step up and rescue her from his violent fists. But I wasn’t stupid. I was too young, too little to take my father on. Watching him now, though, watching him do the things he did to my mother, I decided there would come a day when I would challenge him. Until that day, I would be patient. I would make my plan, and I would make sure there was no way I wouldn’t win when I finally gave him what he deserved for everything he’d ever done to us.
Chapter One
Blade
Eight Years Ago
Aged Twenty-Five
The steady drip of a leaking tap somewhere in the warehouse was the only sound I heard as I watched the scene unfold in front of me. That and the roar of blood rushing to my head as anger took hold.
“You really wanna go there, Blade?” Leroy snarled, his lethal gaze focused solely on me.
I thought about what he’d asked even though
I’d done nothing but think about that very question for the past few weeks. This was the man who’d taken me under his wing when I was a naive fifteen-year-old out dealing drugs for little more than pocket change; the man who’d taught me everything I knew today about how to survive in the dangerous underbelly we existed in. I’d lied, stolen and killed for this man. Fuck, the first time I’d taken my blade to someone had been to save Leroy’s life. Ten years in his gang and I’d risen to the top, but I’d lost my humanity along the way. I didn’t even question the shit I did for Leroy anymore. The darkness within had totally consumed me.
Until I met Ashley.
I took a step closer to Leroy, the adrenaline pumping through me. With a nod of my head, he’d easily be taken care of by my boys, but I wanted to be the one to do it. I needed that vengeance for what he’d tried to force upon Ashley, and for what he’d already forced upon countless other women. “Yeah, motherfucker, it seems I do.”
Leroy had his loyal gang members backing him up, but I had far more of our members behind me. Once we’d discovered how Leroy was filling his brothels, we’d decided we could no longer support a filthy pig like him; a pig that refused to treat women with the respect they deserved.
His eyes were wild, his body taut; he was just as ready for this showdown as I was. “You do remember who took your sorry ass off the street and showed you what you were capable of, don’t you?” He pushed his face towards mine. We were so close now that when he spat his next words out, I could smell his foul breath. “I fucking own you, Blade. You don’t get to fucking challenge what I do.”
The calmness that always took over whenever I was about to kill descended upon me. My breathing remained steady, sure. “That’s where you’re wrong, Leroy. You don’t own me, and I sure as hell don’t owe you a damn thing. Not anymore. That debt has been paid. But you and I have a huge fucking problem if you think it’s okay to force women into selling their bodies so you can make money off them”
“They fucking owed me for the drugs they’d been buying off me!” he thundered, as if that made it all right. His thinking was so fucking screwed up he didn’t know right from wrong anymore. Hell, in his world, there was no wrong. Only what he wanted, and that was always right.
“There’s going to be some changes around here,” I stated with the calmness I felt in my bones. This was the right thing to do.
“You’re fucking dreaming if you think you can take me out and keep this organisation running, at the level of profit I’ve achieved, without the women.”
“And you’re fucking deluded if you think I’m going to let you live, so I guess I really only have one option here: kill you and find a way to make it all work, because I sure as fuck have no intention of running drugs or women anymore.”
In the blink of an eye, Leroy gave his men the nod, and a second later I had five guns trained on me. In return, Leroy had twelve on him. I waited for his next play. After all, patience was my strong suit.
“If you think you can kill me with no repercussions, my boy, you might want to think again,” he threatened with the confidence of a man who never made promises he couldn’t keep. Leroy most certainly had shit planned for this exact outcome, but he underestimated me.
I pulled my blade out and took another step closer to him. In a low voice, I said, “It’s a good thing you taught me to always keep one eye behind me, then, isn’t it?”
His eyes widened slightly, and I took in the sheen of sweat on his forehead. He knew his breaths were limited. My pulse quickened as I savoured his fear and anticipated sinking my knife in his gut.
Merrick, my right-hand man, moved to speak into my ear. “Let’s get this shit over with, Blade. I don’t want to risk anything fucking this up, not when you've got him right where you need him.”
Merrick was right, as usual, and without giving Leroy any warning, I sunk my knife into his stomach. He roared with pain and staggered back. I pulled the knife back, yanking it from his body, only to plunge it back into his stomach. My blade connected with his flesh over and over as I sought retribution for the crimes he’d committed against the women in his organisation. I heard gunshots as our boys fought it out, but all I was concentrating on was Leroy’s blood. I needed more of it on my hands.
On my knees, surrounded by blood, my breathing ragged, Leroy lay in front of me, his body a carved canvas of death. And I was the proud and satisfied artist. No longer would he cause terror and suffering to so many.
I left him on the ground and stood. Merrick’s gaze met mine, and he nodded. We were half-way to where we needed to be today.
I surveyed the casualties. There were too many; this had to be stopped before we had more. “Enough!” I bellowed. Everyone was smart enough to know that with Leroy gone, I was taking over, and they followed my command. “You all know where I stand. If that’s not something you want to support, now’s the time to leave.”
Leroy’s staunch supporter, Ricky, stepped forward. He’d taken a bullet in his arm and was beyond angry. “How the fuck do you propose to move forward, Blade? Leroy was right, there’s no way to pull the kind of dollars in without the girls and the drugs. And I’m not willing to take a pay-cut.”
One of the best things to ever happen, in my opinion, was for an opponent to walk straight down the path you’d already planned for them to walk down, and to do it thinking it was their own choice. Ricky Grecian was doing that right now, and all I had to do was keep leading him. “I can’t promise there won’t be a pay-cut, so I’d suggest you think long and hard about which way you want to go, Ricky.”
He continued scowling, and I knew exactly how this was going to play out. After glaring at me for a few minutes, he announced, “I’m out. And I’ll take the girls with me.”
“Not fucking likely, motherfucker,” I growled. “The girls stay with me.”
“You said you don’t want them.”
“No, I said we would no longer be running them.”
Merrick stepped in as planned. “You can take the drugs,” he suggested. And then looking at me, he said, “That works, doesn’t it, Blade? We don’t want the drugs.”
I took my time thinking about it; this had to appear as if we were giving up something valuable. Before I could answer, Ricky played straight into our hands. “It’s either the drugs or the girls, Blade. Your fucking choice, asshole, but I’m leaving here today with one of them.”
“Take the fucking drugs,” I snapped. Christ, Ricky really was a dumb fucker.
“Right, that’s settled,” Ricky said. Looking around the room, he asked, “Who’s with me?”
As four men left with Ricky, I turned to Merrick. “Ten years of this shit, with nothing to show for it except death and destruction,” I muttered.
“Yeah, but we did a good thing here today, Blade.”
Expelling a long breath, I nodded. “Things will change. I’ll make fucking sure of it.”
Chapter Two
Blade
Present Day
“Blade!” Ashley screamed, her face contorting in pain as her attackers pressed cigarettes into her skin. Her arm reached out for me, her hand flailing around trying desperately to connect with mine. But as hard as I tried to grab hold, I couldn’t do it.
I never could.
I failed.
Every fucking time.
I sat bolt upright in my bed. The bed sheet stuck to the sweat I was covered in, and I shoved it off.
I turned to the bedside clock.
Three-fifteen am.
Fuck.
Pushing myself off the bed, I stalked into the bathroom. I flicked the tap on and splashed cold water over my face. Resting my hands on the sink, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. These dreams were getting out of hand, and exhaustion ruled my life. It painted my face and clawed at my body.
The dreams had haunted me since Ashley’s death, but they’d recently intensified to the point where they were hitting me hard and fast most nights. I thought they would have stopped after I’d dea
lt with Bullet and they had slowed down for a while. Fuck knew why they were back now.
I turned the tap off and scowled in the mirror. I had a lot of work to deal with today and just over two hours of sleep wasn’t going to help me get through it all. However, I knew from experience sleep would prove elusive. Better just to start my day with a shower and move on from there.
When the hot water hit my shoulders a few moments later, I dropped my head and rested my chin on my chest. Closing my eyes, I savoured the heat working its way into my tired muscles. The years since Ashley’s death hadn’t been kind to my body. Grief, regret and a lust for revenge had taken hold of both my mind and body, inflicting weariness on me. I pushed past the exhaustion most days, but these fucking dreams were taking their toll.
Fifteen minutes later, showered and dressed, I entered the kitchen. I made coffee and logged on to my computer, checking my emails. The pain of Ashley’s loss was never far away and I felt it as keenly these days as I did three years ago, but my work helped give my mind a break from it. And that was all I could ask for because I knew I’d never get over not having her in my life.
***
Four hours later, I parked my Jag not far from the front door of Harlow’s mother’s cafe, and exited it into the warm September sun. Late September in Brisbane should have been spring weather but we seemed to be moving straight into summer, just as we had last year. The humidity in the air this morning clung to me, and I contemplated yet again moving to a cooler climate. I’d never do it, though. I was born in Brisbane and I’d die here. This city was in my blood.
“You owe me breakfast as well as coffee.”
I looked up to find Madison standing on the footpath smiling at me. My sister was the happiest I’d ever seen her; marrying J had been a good decision. I cocked my head to the side. “How do you figure that, babe?”
Her smile turned into a grin that lit up her face. I liked what I saw there. Not many people meant as much to me as she did, and her happiness touched my cold heart in unexpected ways. “Well, you were supposed to have coffee with me yesterday, but you cancelled. It’s only fair you buy me breakfast to say sorry.”