Jax: (A Gritty Bad Boy MC Romance) (The Lost Breed MC Book 3) Read online

  Jax

  A Lost Breed MC Novel

  By

  Ali Parker

  &

  Weston Parker

  Table of Contents

  Find Ali Parker

  Description

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek of Ryder

  Sneak Peek of Axel

  Free Ali Parker Library

  About the Author

  Find Ali Parker

  www.aliparkerbooks.com

  Description

  Seven men were killed last night.

  Their bodies were sliced and diced by a psycho with a machete, and no matter what angle I look at it from, I know it’s only a matter of time before I have to get my hands dirty.

  Real dirty.

  Shit gets even more complicated when Holly Whitton, the girl who captured my heart a decade ago, moves back to New York City. She has secrets, that much is clear, but I can’t help but be drawn to her warmth. She’s a haven from the chaos that lingers at my doorstep, and she’s my responsibility to protect.

  But my life with my MC is a threat to her—and so is the man with the machete and the hunger for blood. Maybe I’m the one I need to protect her from.

  Maybe I’m the reason it will all fall apart.

  Or maybe I’m the only one who can hold it all together.

  Introduction

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  Chapter 1

  Jax

  New York summer weather was ideal for taking to the road on my Harley. When I was going fast enough, which was any time I wasn’t stuck in traffic or behind a station wagon hovering half a mile under the speed limit, the breeze against my bare arms and face was almost cool enough to be considered refreshing. Air conditioning was overrated and no comparison to the open road on the seat of a Harley, engine purring between your legs, throttle itching to be opened up on every straightaway.

  Of course, the way I rode earned me a few speeding tickets and some warnings from the police. I was almost on a first-name basis with some of them.

  I liked the adrenaline rush of being on my bike, but I also liked the time to clear my head. Being part of an MC was a fast-paced lifestyle, and I was still acclimating to the intensity of it all.

  Just weeks ago, my buddy Axel almost landed himself behind bars going after the leader of our rival gang, the Black Hearts. Watson, a true and total sociopath, had nearly brought all of us down with him. If it hadn’t been for Axel risking his neck, I hated to think where we would all be.

  Axel had the most to lose too. He’d just started seeing Ellie when it all went down, the girl he’d fantasized about for half a fucking decade. Then, out of the blue, he learned he had a three-year-old daughter.

  I took a right at a red light, the tires squealing as I accelerated. I smirked as the car behind me honked. The asshat hadn’t even had to tap his brakes. People were so damn sensitive these days. I looked over my shoulder, gave the guy behind the wheel of the silver sedan a wide grin, and opened the throttle, leaving him and his mom-car behind until they were nothing but a tiny speck in my mirrors.

  I didn’t envy the car, that was for sure, but I found myself wondering if he had a wife and kids at home like Axel did. It must be nice to return to a place with a bright smile there to greet you. That and a warm body to share a bed with.

  Something unsettling coursed through my body, and when I realized it was jealousy, I shook my head in shame.

  “Pull yourself together, you pussy,” I muttered, the wind drying my teeth.

  The roar of the engine calmed to a steady rumble as I pulled off the road and rode up to the open bay doors of the new shop. I killed the ignition and swung off the bike as Ellie, the beautiful blond mechanic who was now engaged to Axel, spotted me and waved.

  “Morning,” she called cheerfully as I approached, wiping her hands on a rag and then tucking it into the back pocket of her jeans. She put her hands on her hips, like she always did, and cocked her head to one side. “You eat yet?”

  I shook my head. “What do you think?”

  She rolled her eyes at me and waved for me to follow her. I tailed her around the hood of the old Impala she was working on, and we ducked into the office along the side of the shop.

  Jamie, my cousin, looked up from her computer and smiled at me. “Hey, cuz.” Her eyes returned to the computer screen, but she maintained the conversation. “How’s it going?”

  “As good as Mondays go.”

  Ellie stepped behind the desk, pulled a coffee from a drink tray, and handed it to me. Ellie was good like that. For as long as I could remember, she had always made sure to have a coffee for me when she came to work. Sometimes, she even picked up breakfast.

  My heart swooned over her when she tossed me a small paper bag sealed with a green sticker. “And your bagel. Don’t say I never do anything for you.” Ellie folded her arms and rested her hip on the desk.

  “I’d never say something so untrue.” I grinned as I opened the bag. I was greeted by the smell of herbs and butter and cheese, and I impulsively licked my lips. “You’re the best, Ellie.”

  “I know I am. But,” she shot me a cocky smile before turning and making for the door, “I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

  “So modest.” I chuckled as the door closed and turned back to Jamie, who was still scowling at the computer screen as I rested my forearms on the counter and sipped my coffee. “You trying to ignore me, or are you actually busy?”

  “It’s Monday morning. What do you think?”

  I scratched my chin to feign thoughtfulness. “Maybe a little bit of both?”

  Jamie rewarded me with a quick glance up from her computer. “You’re smarter than you look.” She let out a long sigh. “We have a lot of work coming in the next couple of weeks, and at the rate we’re going, there’ll be some unhappy customers banging on our door.”

  “How far behind schedule are we?”

  “At least a week.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “I don’t know how you guys are going to make up for extra time. Axel’s still only on part-time hours, and I’m not going to be the one to ask him to come back. We all know how happy he is to be spending time with Hanna.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t look at me. I’m not asking him. He’d have my head faster than I could blink.”

  “Then we need a different solution. Think one of the other guys might be willing to step in
for a little bit? Just a couple of weeks, three at most. At least until we’re caught up. I’ve already had to turn a couple of guys away. It’s not good for business.”

  I took a big gulp of coffee and flinched as it burned my throat. “Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.” I turned away from her and opened the door to the shop. “Hey, cuz? You’re doing great, you know. You’re a good fit for this job.”

  Jamie beamed at me. “Thanks.”

  I put my coffee down and joined Ellie at the hood of the Impala. She was currently bent over with her upper half buried in the open space where the engine used to be.

  “So,” I said, startling her, “how’s engaged life?”

  Ellie scowled as she straightened up, emerging from under the hood like a mechanical goddess of sorts. I would never say so to Axel, but his woman was something else, and watching her around cars was torture for any man.

  She tightened her ponytail before answering me. “It’s good. Really good. Neither of us is too keen on wedding planning, though, so that’s been a bit of a roadblock. We don’t really give a shit about how it looks or where it is. We just want a big party, you know?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged, pretending I did.

  “As long as you guys are all there and Hanna gets to be the flower girl, it will be great. Honestly, we might just do it in our backyard. Low key. Simple.”

  “You gonna wear a dress or walk down the aisle in your coveralls?”

  Ellie took a swipe at me, and I laughed, backing away from her.

  “I’ll be wearing a dress. In fact, I already bought it.”

  I lifted both eyebrows. “I’m impressed. I figured you’d leave it to the last second. What’s it look like?”

  For some reason, picturing Ellie in a wedding dress was a bit odd. I’d only ever seen her in jeans, tank tops, and coveralls. Occasionally, she would be a bit more dressed up, but that only meant she wore jeans that actually fit and shirts that didn’t have holes or grease stains. Ellie in a white wedding gown would be … different.

  “You’ll just have to wait and see.” Ellie lifted her nose, but the corner of her mouth curled upward in a smile. She was excited.

  “I’m happy for you.”

  All of her fake arrogance slipped away, and she gave me a sidelong look. “Thank you.”

  I straightened and cleared my throat. “For the record, though, I’m not happy for Axel. He doesn’t deserve you. You’re too good for him.”

  “You should tell him that one time. See how it goes.”

  “I’m not suicidal, Ellie. Jesus.” I grunted and shook my head.

  She smiled before plunging herself back under the hood of the Impala.

  “You know I’m kidding, right?” I called.

  “Yeah, yeah. Now, get to work. We have shit to do.”

  I polished off my coffee, tossed it across the shop into the garbage can, and sauntered over to a Harley that was in for an exhaust replacement. By the end of the day, I knew I’d have her purring like a dream. I patted the leather seat like the bike was a dog. “You ready for your makeover?”

  My phone rang.

  Ellie looked over at me and shook her head as I pulled it from my pocket and peered down at the screen. It was Sabian Delgado calling, one of my buddies in the MC. As I put it to my ear, Ellie yelled at me to make it quick. I put my back to her and leaned against the Harley.

  “Hey, man, surprised you’re calling this early. Aren’t you usually face down in bed until noon?”

  Sabian growled into the receiver of his phone. “If I’m face down in anything, it’s pussy or ass. Don’t waste my time. This is important.”

  I chose to let his attitude slide. “All right. What is it, then?”

  “Have you seen the news?”

  I scoffed. “I don’t watch the fucking news.”

  “Some serious shit went down at the mansion, bro. The one Watson was holed up in. What’s it been? A few weeks since Axel trapped his ass and got him locked up? This shit isn’t sitting right.”

  I could hear the tension in his voice. Sabian was certainly spooked, and like most of us in the MC, he wasn’t the kind of guy to spook easily. “Define ‘shit went down.’”

  “I don’t have all the details yet. I called Ryder, but he’s not answering his fucking phone.”

  “Probably because he’s fucking Dani.”

  “I don’t think this is the time for jokes,” Sabian grated.

  “I’m not making any jokes.”

  There was a brief pause on the other end. I liked ruffling feathers. It was what I did best. Finally, Sabian pushed aside my inability to be serious and continued speaking. “The news coverage says the cops pulled seven bodies out of the house this morning around five. They’re not releasing any identities yet, not that I expected them to. But they’re saying it might be a gang hit.”

  “A gang hit? The only other gang with enough balls to make a move that big is us, Sabian.”

  “I know.”

  I tried to process what he was saying. Then I shook my head. “It wasn’t us. No one would go behind Ryder’s back like that. He’d fuck them up. Besides, things have been calm since Watson went down. We have a truce for the first time in ages. I can’t think of any one of us wanting to fuck that up.”

  “Me neither,” Sabian admitted, “but it’s probably something we shouldn’t rule out. People have their own intentions, man. We can’t assume to know what’s going on in everyone’s heads.” Sabian was quiet for a minute. I waited for him to continue. My mind was spinning a mile a minute. “The other explanation is that someone else had a bone to pick with the Black Hearts. But that means there’s another player on the board. Wouldn’t Ryder know if someone else had moved in on our turf?”

  “I would expect he would, yes.”

  “Then I doubt its new blood.”

  “Maybe it was internal?” I suggested.

  “Maybe.”

  “I don’t like this,” I grumbled. “I don’t like this one fucking bit.”

  Chapter 2

  Holly

  I hurried to tie the strings of my apron behind my back as my manager, Talon, shouted down the hall for me to move my ass and get on the floor. The restaurant was busy, and we were short-staffed, so I had to step in and cover two sections. It was my second week on the job, and I wasn’t at all prepared for the party of ten waiting for me to collect their drink orders.

  I strapped on my not-so-flattering-but-mandatory fanny pack and tucked my notepad and pen into it, along with some spare change from my previous shift to split bills from tip money. Then, I paused in front of the door leading from the break room to the kitchens and took three slow, deep breaths.

  “You’ve got this, Holly. It’s just temporary. Very temporary.”

  Not at all convinced by my own mini pep talk, I pushed through the door and shimmied behind the line of prep cooks to escape out into the front house, which was just as noisy as the kitchens.

  The Roost was a family-friendly establishment that had been serving relatively decent hearty meals for nearly three decades. The manager, Talon, was the son of the original founder, Gary Cross, who had combined his love of farm life with that of his restaurant. Walking into The Roost was like walking into an impractical hay barn.

  Old fans spun lazily in the rafter-style ceiling, pushing cooler air down on the patrons who sat around picnic-style tables decorated in mismatching floral centerpieces. On numerous occasions, the restaurant had been used for wedding receptions, and I figured with the right amount of décor, it could look pretty good.

  But at the present moment, the place was alive with screaming children, overwhelmed parents, and irritated couples who’d chosen the wrong place to come for dinner.

  Talon patted my shoulder as he handed me a tray. “You can handle this, new girl?”

  I stared up into his brown eyes, which were hard with stress, and nodded. “I think so.”

  “Okay. No pressure but don’t fuck it up. You know what happens when your t
ill doesn’t balance at the end of the night, and I don’t want you to be in that situation.”

  I nodded. If my till was short when I closed at the end of my shift, I would have to make up the difference with my own tip money. That simply wasn’t an option for me. I had a six-year-old son back home, and every cent counted with this job.

  Especially because “back home” wasn’t quite accurate for my situation.

  “I won’t fuck it up.” I nodded confidently.

  “Good answer. Now, let’s hustle.”

  I started making my rounds around my section, making sure to introduce myself, to smile, and to tell each table the specials of the evening. From there, I took their drink orders, and, like a madwoman with her head cut off, made half a dozen trips to and from the bar with trays full of cocktails, sodas, iced teas, and swirly sodas for the kids.

  All the while, my mind was on my son, Luke.

  It was just past six, and he would have just finished eating dinner with my sister, Kimberly, whose apartment we were currently crashing at.

  I had called her three weeks ago from the road. Luke had been asleep in the back, his forehead pressed against the side of his car seat as I cruised down the highway, and I’d taken advantage of the sliver of privacy.

  “Holly?”

  I hadn’t talked to Kim in months. Maybe more. She was probably so fucking confused to see my name flash across her phone screen. I cleared my throat as I kept an eye on a white SUV in my side mirror.

  “Hey, Kim. Yeah, it’s me. How are you?”

  A short moment of silence punctuated how awkward things were. “I’m good. Are you okay? Has something happened?”

  I hated how transparent a random call to my sister was now. But her words stirred something in me that brought forth a swell of sharp grief that stabbed at my throat. I swallowed to try to force it down so I could find my voice. Kim, ever knowing, waited patiently until I had myself under control.