Jaxon (Heartlands Motorcycle Club Book 5) Read online

  Jaxon

  Heartlands Motorcycle Club Book Five

  Olivia T. Turner

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

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  Copyright© 2020 by Olivia T. Turner.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including emailing, photocopying, printing, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. For permission requests, email [email protected]

  Please respect the author’s hard work and purchase a copy. Thanks!

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, businesses, companies, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  www.OliviaTTurner.com

  Edited by Karen Collins Editing

  Cover Design by CormarCovers.com

  Cover Model: Lewis Winyard

  To all the people who are having a hard time right now.

  Keep your head up.

  We can make the world a better place.

  Chapter One

  Stella

  “It’s not even midnight and Barbie is getting fucked on the pool table,” Cat says as she comes behind the bar. “It must be a new record.”

  I don’t know whether to laugh or shake my head as I look up and see Barbie’s feet hitting the glass light swinging over the table as a huge burly biker plows into her like a jackhammer. She’s screaming loud enough for everyone to hear as the guy’s buddy shoots his ball around her head. His pool ball, not his other balls.

  “That girl fell out of the horny tree and hit every branch on the way down,” I say as I watch her in awe. I don’t know how she does that in public.

  Cat laughs as she pours a few beers. “She’s definitely one in a million.”

  “You mean she’s one who’s had a million,” Roxanne says as she walks over with a tray full of empty bottles.

  The huge guy grunts loudly as he finishes and then Barbie gets up, gives him a kiss on the cheek, and saunters over here, looking rosy and satisfied. She’s a little unsteady on her feet as she half-sits/half-falls onto the stool in front of us.

  “Is that really necessary to do that in the bar?” Roxanne asks as she loads up her tray with the frosty mugs of beer.

  “I’m a Sweettart, okay?” Barbie answers as she starts reapplying her make-up. “That’s what we do. We’re not prudes like you girls. So damn proper all the time. It’s like hanging out with a troupe of Girl Guides.”

  I look down at my cut-off jean shorts and black t-shirt with the ripped up sleeves and the knot that shows off my stomach, and can’t help but laugh. I’m working in a biker bar. I’ve never been called ‘proper’ before. Although, Barbie’s idea of proper is a little skewed.

  “Besides,” Barbie goes on as she reaches behind the bar and grabs a bottle of beer. “It’s 2020. Enough with the slut-shaming.”

  She wanders back to the pool table with her beer as Roxanne shakes her head. “You’d think it was 1982 going by her hairstyle.”

  We all giggle as we look at her huge blonde hair with the dark roots. Barbie looks like she just stepped out of a Def Leppard cover album.

  The bar starts dying down around two in the morning. There’s only a smattering of about a dozen drunk guys. Even Barbie has gone home.

  “Go home,” I tell Cat when I catch her falling asleep at the bar. “I’ll finish up.”

  Her bloodshot eyes are half-closed as she looks up at me. “Really? I don’t want to leave you all alone.”

  “I’m used to being alone,” I say with a laugh, but it’s like a punch to the chest. “You, on the other hand, have a hot muscular man waiting for you in your fancy new house.”

  She smiles dreamily as she thinks about her man, Saint. He’s a real hottie and a cut-wearing member of the Heartlands Motorcycle Club. He just got out of prison and is a great guy, even if he can be a little rough around the edges at times.

  “I’ll make up for it tomorrow,” she says with a yawn that shows off her molars. “I promise.”

  “Go,” I say as I grab a rag and start wiping down the sticky bar. “Before I change my mind.”

  She thanks me again and calls Saint to pick her up. A few minutes later, I see him come in, scoop her up into his arms and carry her out as she closes her eyes, looking happier than I’ve ever been as she snuggles into his chest.

  I need a man.

  I sigh as I shake my head, turning back to work. Plenty of these men have tried to get in my cut-off jean shorts, but I haven’t let any of them. Ranger has put the word out that I’m off-limits and they better have my permission before they dare to touch me or they’ll have to deal with him. No one has grabbed me since.

  Some have tried to get with me, but I’m just not interested. I don’t fit into the usual mold of girls you’d find working in a biker bar. I’m actually a virgin.

  I’ve always been attracted to strong alpha men who take what they want and protect what’s theirs. I think that’s why I was drawn to apply here. This place is full of men like that.

  But still, none have sparked that interest in me. Maybe I should just be like Barbie…

  Who am I kidding? I don’t have it in me.

  “I’m closing up, Stella,” the cook T-Bone says as he walks over while wiping his hands on his filthy apron. “Does anyone want anything to eat before I go?”

  I look around at the guys left. They’re almost all passed out or sleeping.

  “Nah,” I say as I smile at him. “You go on home. Tell Madge I said hi.”

  “Will do,” he says as he places a hand on my shoulder as he heads back to the kitchen to close up. He’s a nice man. He’s like the grandpa of the bar who’s always got a nice word to say to me and the other girls.

  “One hour left,” the bouncer Bulldog says as he walks over, looking bored out of his mind. “Want to play?”

  “Sure,” I say as he sits down at the bar. “Don’t slap so hard this time. You almost broke my hand last week. It still hurts.”

  I rub my knuckles as he pulls out a deck of cards. “Sorry about that,” he says as he starts dealing on the bar. “I just get so excited when I’m about to win.”

  “Just remember you have giant hands that can crush mine,” I say with a laugh. Bulldog loves playing Speed when there’s nothing else to do. I’m the only one who can beat him, so he’s always challenging me to a game.

  I watch him as he focuses on the cards. He’s a good guy too. It’s crazy how such a big rough man can be so gentle with the women in his life. Not one of the girls has anything bad to say about Bulldog. He’s kicked the asses of dozens of men who have gotten out of line with grabby hands. All the waitresses here appreciate him.

  “Oh, shit!” Bulldog says with a gasp when I get on a roll and start slamming down cards. “Stop. You’re going too fast!”

  I’m about to respond when the familiar roar of motorcycles rips into the bar.

  We both turn to look at the open door.

  “Were the guys on a run?” I ask as my skin starts to prickle.

  Bulldog’s face hardens as he shakes his head. “No.”r />
  He gets up off the barstool as my stomach flutters with nerves. It’s hard to be scared next to this giant of a man. He’s enormous, but that does sound like a lot of bikes.

  “Stay here,” he grunts as he heads to the door to see what’s up.

  My eyes are on his massive back as he disappears through the door. A few seconds later, there’s shouting and the sound of someone getting slammed against the wall.

  “No,” I gasp as I look around at the drunk bikers left. None of them are getting up. They’ve all drunk themselves into a stupor.

  I rush over to Buzz who’s sleeping on a table and start shaking him.

  “What?” he mumbles, not even opening his eyes.

  “Wake up, Buzz!” I shout into his ear. “I think there’s trouble.”

  He’s dead to the world, so I rush over to the next guy. I’m trying to shake him awake when Bulldog comes crashing into the bar with three guys on him. Bulldog’s got one arm around the neck of one of them and is holding the cut of another. The third is throwing elbows into his face.

  “Stop!” I scream as his nose busts open with blood pouring everywhere.

  I freeze as about a dozen and a half bikers pour into the place. They’re not Heartland boys. I don’t recognize any of them and I wouldn’t know who they are if they weren’t branded all over in their club’s logo.

  The Outlaws.

  It’s a rival Motorcycle Club from a few towns over and they do not get along with my boys. I overheard that Saint had killed one of their guys named Roach a few weeks back. So, this must be their retaliation.

  They start hooting and hollering as they begin to trash the place and beat up the drunk bikers who are only now starting to wake up. A chair gets thrown into the jukebox and the music stops. A table gets flipped over. Someone launches a chair at the booze and bottles explode.

  I scream as broken glass and whiskey rain down on me.

  Finally, my feet start moving.

  I rush into the back as Buzz slams a fist into a biker’s jaw. Two more of The Outlaws jump on him from behind.

  “Come on!” T-Bone says when he sees me coming. He grabs me with one hand and pulls me behind him. He’s holding a butcher’s knife, but that won’t do much against a swarm of cruel muscular men a few decades younger than him.

  I glance through the hole in the wall where T-Bone hands us the food and my heart goes cold.

  They’re everywhere.

  The Outlaws kick the door down to the Heartlands’ President Troy Conley’s office and flood inside as Bulldog finally gets brought down to his knees with a broken chair to his back.

  These bastards caught the Heartlands off-guard and unaware and they’re making them pay for their sloppiness.

  Three Outlaws come into the kitchen and grin when they see me and the old man huddled in the corner.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” T-Bone warns as he grips the knife with wrinkled knuckles. “Or, I’ll gut the lot of you and serve you in tomorrow’s meatloaf.”

  The three bikers laugh as they advance on us. One grabs a couple of French Fries from the bin and eats them as he approaches.

  They’re so big. We don’t stand a chance.

  But my boys, even the cook, never back down.

  T-Bone swings the knife at the closest one, but he’s too slow. The Outlaw grabs his wrist and lands a hard punch on his nose. The knife falls to the floor with a clatter.

  I lunge for it, but a backhand comes out of nowhere and knocks me onto my ass. Pain shoots through my brain as my eyes water and my hands shake.

  I’ve never been hit before and it just pisses me off. I reach for the knife again, but the asshole kicks it under the stove.

  My watery eyes narrow on the name stitched onto his leather cut. Gunner. President.

  The three guys kick T-Bone as he huddles on the ground, slamming their boots into his body. I lunge onto him to protect him and squeeze my eyes shut as I wait for the boots to hit me, but they never come.

  Someone in the bar is hollering that it’s time to go.

  The three grab whatever they can on their way out and throw it onto the floor. I grit my teeth as a huge jar of olives gets smashed against the stove.

  It’s over as fast as it started.

  The bikes roar back to life and they disappear down the street.

  “Are you okay?” I ask T-Bone as he falls onto his ass.

  God, my hands are trembling.

  He spits out a wad of blood and nods. “They fucking cracked a tooth. It’s not my first broken one and it won’t be my last.”

  I help him to his feet and then rush into the bar. The boys are laid out everywhere. Buzz is out cold on the pool table. Bulldog is on his knees, hacking up blood.

  The bar is destroyed. There’s broken glass and smashed wood everywhere.

  This is the only home I’ve ever had.

  And it’s been attacked.

  I rush over to Bulldog and drop to my knees in front of him.

  When he sees me, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me in for a fierce hug that almost crushes me.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper as I run my hand up and down his back. “It’s over.”

  He leans back and I shiver when I see the ferocity in his dark eyes.

  “It’s not over,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “This is war.”

  Chapter Two

  Stella

  “Wow!” Roxanne says when she walks into the bar the next morning. “This place is fucked up! What the hell happened?”

  I can’t walk anywhere without the crunching of broken glass under my feet. The bar looks even worse in the sunlight. I don’t think there’s one thing they didn’t smash.

  The Heartlands’ President Troy is hissing out angry breaths as he looks at the huge sign of The Heartlands’ logo on the wall. The Outlaws is spray-painted over it in red.

  “The Outlaws think we’ve gone soft because we’re trying to stay right,” the Vice President Gage tells him.

  Troy grits his jaw as he yanks the sign down. “Well, they’re about to find out just how fucking hard we really are.”

  “What happened?” Roxy asks as she comes behind the bar. Cat and I are starting to clean up all of the broken glass. Everything is sticky from the alcohol and Cat already cut herself twice.

  I tell her what happened and she’s in tears by the end of it. We all love this club. It’s our only family and the men treat us right. This whole thing sucks.

  “I heard Bulldog is in the hospital?” Roxy asks. “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah,” I tell her. I called Ranger who is the manager of the bar and a Heartlands member to tell him what happened and he came over immediately. He brought Bulldog to the hospital and texted me to let me know that he broke two ribs, but he’ll be all right.

  One by one, the guys arrive, each looking shocked and then pissed when they come in and see the damage.

  “We can’t let this go,” Killian says with an incensed look on his face.

  “We’re not,” Troy hisses back. “Get the boys around the table. Club meeting. Now!”

  “We better get some beers ready,” Cat says as Killian gathers the guys.

  I open the freezer and start pulling out frosted mugs. Luckily, the assholes missed these and the taps. They still work.

  “What’s going to happen?” Cat whispers as I hand her the mugs while she fills them up.

  I glance at T-Bone who’s in the kitchen cleaning up. He’s a tough old son of a bitch who never misses work.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper back. “Bulldog said we’re going to be at war.”

  “I hope not,” she says with a shiver.

  I know what she’s thinking. She’s thinking of her man, Saint, getting hurt or worse…

  Even at a time like this, my heart twists, wishing I had a man to worry about.

  “What is that…” she says, trailing off as she narrows in on my right eye. “Is that make-up? Did you get hit?”

  I sigh as I hand her
another glass. “Just once. I’m fine.”

  She grits her teeth as she yanks down the handle of the tap with more force than necessary. “Those fuckers. Now I really hope we go to war.”

  “Really,” I say with a heavy breath. “I’m fine.”

  I have a nice little black eye to commemorate the night, but I covered it up pretty nicely with make-up. Thank God for YouTube instructional videos.

  The guys start sitting down around the huge table as Troy paces at the head of it. He’s not in his suit today and he’s looking good in jeans and his leather vest with the Heartlands logo on the back. The club has been trying to go clean lately, but something tells me it’s about to get a lot dirtier after this.

  Cat and I perk up our ears as we walk over to the table and start handing out the beers.

  “Are you okay, Stella?”

  The deep voice catches me off-guard and I nearly drop my tray. Troy is looking right at me. So are the other boys. My cheeks start to heat up.

  We’re all family, but the boys are a brotherhood. They don’t usually talk to us girls during the club meetings.

  “I’m fine, Troy,” I squeak out. “A little shaken up, but okay. Thanks.”

  He nods at me as he sighs. “Just know we’re going to get these guys back for this. No one touches my family and gets away with it.”

  They start their meeting and we’re not asked to leave, which is new. I guess I stepped up a spot in their eyes now that I’ve survived my first biker brawl. And Cat, well, Cat is Saint’s girl so she’s as good as in too.

  “It wasn’t just the bar,” Troy says as he twirls an unlit cigarette through his fingers. “They hit our storehouse too.”