INSIDE BROKEN (A Devil Call MC Book) (Talon & Everly Book One) (Devil Call MC - Talon & Everly 1) Read online

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  The billionaire erotic romance serial - BY HIS COMMAND

  The paranormal romance series featuring bikers who are werewolves - FULL MOON MERCY

  The edgy and gritty erotic romance series - WITH THE ROCKSTAR

  The intense and wild MC romance - DEVIL CALL MC

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  INSIDE BROKEN (A Devil Call MC Book) (Talon & Everly Book One)

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  Fresh out of prison, Talon wants his club back. Losing the President’s patch has left a scar deeper than any bullet or knife is capable of.

  To get it back, he’ll have to endure a war, battling both himself and someone he once considered as close as a brother.

  And in the midst is a beautiful woman looking for a chance at survival...

  1.

  (Talon)

  The walls weren’t always cool, but they were cool today. Cinderblocks were stacked to form the walls, painted some kind of white color that now held chips, cracks, and scars of violence. At night, it was like the memories were desperate to come alive. Funny how so many people thought the prison was haunted by ghosts, those who had come and died within these walls. But it wasn’t fucking ghosts that made the place haunted, it was the memories of those living. Because death was an escape from this.

  It was where I deserved to be. I had done my crimes and I had finally come to a point where it was time to pay the price a little. That was one thing I remember about my old man, he always told me that the best men would face a different kind of justice and would do their time when needed.

  Eighteen months is a long damn time to be isolated from the outside world. And from the club. Sure, I had arrangements inside. I managed a little business when I could, securing some cash waiting for me on the way out. But without being at the table and without seeing what was happening all around the city of Brocke, it left me wondering just how things were running. Rumors were flying all about through these walls and cells. Rumors I had to swallow and ignore. Getting angry in here did nothing. That’s one thing you learn pretty damn quick. Anger wastes your energy. And trust me, you need energy.

  A guard knocked on the cell with his club and gave me a signal. Two fingers, an ‘o’ with his thumb and pointer, and then scratch his cheek.

  I stood from my bed in a bright red outfit, feeling like a fucking clown. I reached up to the top bunk and swung a fist, hitting my roommate in the shoulder. He snored and sat up. He groaned and leaned over to look at me.

  Mutt was a big guy. Probably one of the biggest in lockup. He was thick with muscle and fat thanks to the food he ate. Mutt ate everything. Food or not. Trust me, I wouldn’t lie about that at all. If he could fit it in his mouth, he ate it. He had an appetite for other things with some of the new guys that came through the prison. The guys that were here for what I call pussy crimes, or just plain stupid crimes, like smacking around a woman and getting caught. Those guys were handled in their own way.

  I went to the door and put my wrists through the opening and the guard put a set of cuffs on me. He then opened the door and grabbed me by the front of my shirt and pulled me out.

  “Let’s go, motherfucker,” he said.

  My hair fell in front of my face when he pulled me. I shook it away and smiled at him. It was a risk to have longer hair around here, the temptation of anything that resembles a woman, but everyone knew who the fuck I was. That didn’t mean I had instant protection or an easy ride around here. I wore a scar on the back of my neck thanks to someone trying to slit my throat one night. Lucky for me, the guy was stupid and I was sleeping on my face.

  But for every wound I had, there was a guy dead because of my hands.

  There was business to be conducted anywhere we were. That’s how the MC life rolled on. There was no stopping it. There was no controlling it. The only thing that could take down Devil Call MC would be the members themselves. The club implodes and then the members scatter out and around, losing their fucking minds until they were either all dead, locked away, or chartered to another crew.

  The guard led me down the hall, the tip of his club jabbing me in the ribs. He did it on purpose so I would wiggle and make it look like I was causing a little bit of a scene.

  At the end of the cell block, the guard opened a door and took me down a set of steps and then to a narrow hall. This was where some nasty shit went down. The solitary confinement cells were the worst. If you were lucky, you had a small window on the door. If you were a real asshole, you had nothing. Just a room. No fucking window. Nothing.

  We walked down that hall and I lowered my head. I wondered about the stories of all those who were in these cells. How far had they walked away from the right path to end up here? Maybe they were decent men, strong men, men who could survive within the rules of a club to keep themselves grounded.

  But fuck that. It was their life, not mine.

  I had some business to tend to.

  The guard turned me down another hallway. We were getting close to the bowels and basement of the prison. It started to get wet and musty. The smell was terrible, like it hadn’t been cleaned in… well, ever.

  Another minute or so of walking and the guard grabbed the back of my shirt. He pulled me back so I crashed into his body.

  “You think you fucking got this?” he asked.

  His mouth was so damn close to my ear, it creeped me the fuck out. A lot of nasty things happened around here. I could have easily beat the fuck out of the guard, even if I was in cuffs, but I had to control myself.

  “It’s all good,” I said.

  “I’ve got money in this,” the guard growled. “I’ve got asshole kids in college and my youngest is a fucking whore. She sucks any cock she can find. She’s pregnant and I’m going to have to raise the fucking bastard. I need cash and I need a way out.”

  “Looks like we have a few things in common,” I said.

  “That right?”

  “I need cash. I need a way out. And I need my cock sucked. What’s your daughter’s name?”

  The guard pushed me and then I felt a jolt of pain in my right side. It dropped me to one knee as I lost my breath. The son of a bitch hit me with his club. I saw a few stars but quickly regained my focus. The pain lingered in my ribs as I stood and tried to stretch.

  “Sorry about that,” the guard said. “I don’t know what happened.”

  “No need to worry,” I said.

  The guard put his body against mine. He reached around me and dropped a key into my hands.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I consider myself a smart man,” the guard said. “What does that mean? That means I like to hedge my bets. You’re a tough guy, Talon, we know that. But the odds… well, good luck.”

  The guard stepped back. I turned my head for a second and saw him winding up for another hit. The club smacked against my ribs so hard, I fell to my left. My shoulder crunched against the concrete wall and I let out a scream. The guard twirled his club and slowly stepped back into the shadows.

  That’s when two men came forward, each with what looked like a wooden handle custom cut with a point. They had shanks. I was still in cuffs.

  I was supposed to take on two men today to settle a beef between Devil Ca
ll and a rival crew. But that was all a fucking lie. This was a setup.

  They were going to fucking gut me right there in the damp and shit smelling room.

  Life may have been wild, but death was so much crazier.

  2.

  (Everly)

  I hated everything about my life. All that it had become was a complete fucking joke. I was burned out at the age of twenty-three, spending my days and nights finding ways to feel safe and protected by a bunch of men who were nothing but murderers. They called themselves Devil Call MC and spent their time riding their motorcycles around town, fighting and fucking. They came back to the clubhouse and drank, fought each other, and then took someone to bed for a little comfort. Everything was done at the back of a junkyard, a perfect place to have a dummy front of a business. And a place to hide a lot of bodies.

  I never saw a dead body until I came to Devil Call MC. The first time I saw one, I threw up. I had nightmares for days, the same one over and over. Staring at the lifeless face, eyes open. The head would roll to the right and the eyes would blink. Then the dead guy would hit his teeth together, making them chatter as he rolled to his stomach and tried to pull himself to get to me.

  What a stupid dream.

  I never meant to be here or end up like this. I stumbled upon it, literally, and it’s where I was most safe and felt most like home. Even if it was a hell.

  Other women weren’t really friends. The goal was to get a guy to claim you. If you were with one of the guys, you were really locked into the MC and its protection. The other guys wouldn’t try and fuck you, unless your guy told you to. On the outside of it, where I was, was a little scary. If I got myself into trouble I was fucked. If trouble found me, I would get a little help.

  The club was a wild mess and I heard the guys talk about someone named Talon every single day. How he was going to be getting out of prison. Other guys thought he was going to be killed. It seemed to be split on whether the MC liked Talon or not. For me, I liked the name. And the picture of Talon I saw made my mouth water. He was fucking hot. Even in a t-shirt and a leather cut over his body, I was able to see the outlines of some serious muscles. His face looked cut from damn stone, his jawline so sexy that I had no choice but to touch the picture and follow his jawline with my finger.

  I was pathetic sometimes, getting worked up over a picture. A picture of a guy who was currently in prison. For what? I had no idea. The MC never talked about what got Talon into prison. They just talked a lot about what was going to happen when he got out. Or they talked about how long to wait until he was dead and they could start voting to change the business and direction of the club.

  The one man who held the club in some kind of order was Layne. He was another big and beautiful man. He walked with his shoulders wide and rarely smiled. I’m definitely sure that without Layne around, this place would be in even greater shambles. A lot of the guys would have been dead by now and the club would have been raided and broken up by local police. There were so many eyes on the MC that it was scary to do anything. The local police. The feds. Other crews and plenty of damn enemies wanting to hurt and kill. Not to mention the guys in the club itself. I overhead conversations of doing drugs, having sex, killing other members, and trying to overtake Devil Call MC.

  There was no order in the club. People just did what they wanted, when they wanted. And in the middle of the storm, I stood there. An innocent woman trying to escape a life I never asked for.

  I was behind the bar trying to clean up a little. I stocked the mini fridges with plenty of beer and made sure the ice was full. Things would get rowdy in a little while so I had to be ready to pour some drinks. That also meant plenty of hands grabbing at my tits and smacking my ass. All of it I had to take for the hopes that someone would just stake his claim.

  Sometimes I thought about Layne doing so. We had a few moments together where things looked ready to get wild, but it never happened. He held back or was taken away because something had gone wrong. I would have fucked Layne in a second. Any woman in her right mind would fuck Layne.

  Sometimes the clubhouse was quiet. I could walk and look around, really taking the place in. I wondered where it all started and where the hell it was all going. There had to be more than just riding a motorcycle and hurting people, right? There was a sense of brotherhood in the clubhouse, but there was no leader. Everyone was a wild rambler, dangerous outlaws in a world where justice came at the end of a fist or the pull of a trigger.

  When I started to get worried, I drank. Fear would attack me initiating an intense panic in my body. My chest would tighten and I swore I was going to die. But drinking helped. Without nobody around, I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and threw it back like a glass of water. Trust me, it still burned like fire going down, but I managed to teach myself to ignore the pain and take it. Just drink and let the whiskey do its job.

  I put the bottle down and smacked my lips together.

  The whiskey was raunchy and good.

  The front door to the clubhouse exploded open. Two men, Gabel and Buzzy came came through the door carrying another man. There was blood everywhere. Orders were being shout and I just froze. More violence in my life. Just what I fucking needed. The voices were complete murmurs until I saw Layne come through the door. Big and wide, he looked right at me and pointed.

  I snapped out of my trance.

  He walked to the bar and smashed a fist down.

  “Everly, get me a fucking towel. And bring the bottle of whiskey.”

  I hurried into action. When I came around the bar, I saw the man on the floor was one of the younger guys in the MC. Just patched in, Alec could barely grow a small beard. And here he was gasping for air as blood pumped from his chest and stomach.

  Gabel took out a knife and made a cut to Alec’s shirt. He then ripped it open and let out a groan. Buzzy turned his head and threw up all over the floor.

  “Jesus fuck,” Layne said.

  “He’s going to die,” Gabel said. “There’s nothing we can do.”

  I stood, holding a towel and a bottle of whiskey. Layne looked at me and grabbed the whiskey from my hands. He took a drink and then dropped to his knees. He moved Alec’s hair from his face and started to pour whiskey down his throat.

  “Let go, brother,” Layne whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  “Want me to finish it?” Gabel asked.

  He had a gleam in his eye, like excitement.

  “Finish what?” Layne asked.

  Gabel took out his gun. “He doesn’t have to suffer. I’ll shoot him.”

  “What the fuck?” I asked.

  All eyes fell upon me. I put my hands to my mouth and shook my head.

  “Nobody is shooting him,” Layne said. He looked at Buzzy. “Go get a fucking mop and clean up your mess. You fucking pussy.”

  “This is bullshit,” Gabel said. “He shouldn’t fucking suffer.”

  “He shouldn’t have taken half a fucking clip to his body,” Layne shouted.

  “This is my fault?” Gabel asked. “Fuck you.”

  “Fuck you,” Layne bellowed.

  The two men looked ready to fight.

  Alec made a loud gurgling sound. He tried to take a breath, but his body convulsed. He looked like he was trying to sit up as he shook. Then it was over. His body went limp as life went out of him for good. His head was tilted slightly to the right as blood seeped out of his mouth.

  “Give me the fucking towel,” Layne said.

  I handed Layne the towel and he put it over Alec’s face. Blood seeped into the white towel within seconds.

  Layne stood and drank from the bottle of whiskey. “Fuck.”

  “What… happened?” I asked.

  Layne looked at me. “Miscommunication.”

  “They fucking killed Talon,” Gabel said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Prison setup. A guard was paid off to keep Talon cuffed so he could get ripped to pieces. And this asshole here… fucking Alec…”
<
br />   “Stop talking,” Layne said. “Everly belongs behind the bar or bent over. She doesn’t need anything else.”

  The words hurt me. Only because it was coming from Layne. But he was right. It was my job. I was to serve the guys in Devil Call MC. No matter what they wanted. When it was serving a drink or bending over, it was my job.

  “Make the calls and get Alec out of here. Leave his cut on the table.”

  Layne took a few steps and Gabel jumped up. “What about Talon? How do we protect him?”

  “Protect?” Layne asked. “They said it was done. They said he was dead. Can’t bring back the dead, can we?”

  Everything fell silent. Gabel looked down to Alec and then looked at me. He pointed to the bar and gave a nod.

  “Get me a bottle, sweet ass.”

  I swallowed and walked behind the bar. I grabbed a bottle of vodka and when I tried to put it down, Gabel was there, grabbing my wrist.

  “No, no, sweet ass. You drink up.”

  He didn’t take his hand off my wrist. He guided me from behind the bar and pulled me across the floor. I tripped on Alec’s dead hand and it made my body shiver. I hate dead fucking bodies. Gabel took me to his room and pushed me inside. I was quick to take the top off the vodka and drink. The more I drank, the less I felt.

  Gabel walked up behind me and grabbed my hair and pulled. He reached around and after touching my chest, he took the bottle of vodka. He drank damn near a quarter of the bottle without stopping and then pushed the bottle against my chest.

  “One more drink,” he whispered.

  I made that last one count.

  Gabel then reached around and unbuttoned my pants. I did what I was told to do and I bent over. I put my hands to the bed and gripped the covers and sheets. As Gabel touched me, I jumped and closed my eyes.