Crank_Ruthless Bastards Read online

  Table of Contents

  RBMC – Book 4

  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 1

  Chapter 2

  Crank

  RBMC – Book 4

  Ruthless Bastards

  Author: Chelsea Handcock

  www.chelseahandcock.com

  Copyright © 2017, Chelsea Handcock

  First electronic publication: December 2017

  All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted works is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

  Note from the Author:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to person, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third party websites or their content.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Collin “Crank” McGinnis has been a member of the RBMC for years, he earned his place as Road Captain/Enforcer through grit and lethal determination. Yet when it comes to the person that matters most he fails, epically. As a hardened biker and ex-solider, guilt and pain are foreign enemies. Crank is clueless how to battle the unfamiliar emotions that have been waging war on him and the woman he loves more than life. His compass is broken, old rules no longer apply. But he knows if he doesn’t do something he will lose it all.

  Cathy Torrent has seen the worst that people have to offer. She studied and became one of the Nation’s top Service Dog Trainers. But nothing prepared her to become one of the many people she has helped through the years. Guilt, paranoia and mind-numbing pain are the only existence she knows now. When death didn’t claim her, she didn’t live. Instead living life eluded her and she hid, shut down and quietly accepted her new reality. One fight, one ultimatum and one drunken declaration sends these two lovers down different paths for the first time in over twenty years. One needs revenge, the other needs to learn to live. Their devastating journey to heal makes them both step back and look at their lives as a couple and individuals. What they discover shakes them to the core.

  Is twenty years of love destined to become a memory? Can they find each other and heal the parts that were shattered by the Vultures? There is only one way to find out.

  **WARNING: contains explicit sexual situations, violence, disturbingly sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language, and very mature topics. Recommended for age 18 years and up**

  Table of Contents

  RBMC – Book 4

  Ruthless Bastards

  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

  Alpha Team

  NAC & The Holly Group

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 1

  “Damn, babe, that feels so good.” Crank was in heaven, it had been forever since Cathy had woken him up this way. The feel of her soft lips on his neck and chest was driving him crazy. He wanted to feel her weight on top of him, running her fingers through his hair as she kissed him awake.

  It was a ritual most days since they started living together. Whoever woke up first treated the other, and it looked like it was his turn. Crank went to pull her closer, wanting to give as much as he was receiving, but she stopped him, pushing his hands away. Hmm, this was new, he thought, he wasn’t sure if he liked it.

  “Baby, let me make you feel better than good.”

  Crank felt her hands on the waistband of his pants and lifted his pelvis a little, letting her know if she was willing, he was game. The relief of his zipper moving down over his rock-hard dick was instantaneous, and he moaned his appreciation. Crank wrapped his hand in her usually feather soft hair and guided her to where he needed her most.

  “You know what I want, babe, don’t make me wait,” he growled.

  “Oh, I’m not going to make you wait, baby, just lay back and enjoy what I’m going to do to you. I’ve wanted this big boy in my hands for a very long time.”

  Crank grumbled. Maybe Cathy was trying to talk sexy, but it wasn’t doing it for him. He let its displeasure be known by tugging her hair a little more firmly. But, apparently, that only got her going more; he could tell by the moaning and groaning she was doing now. It almost made him laugh, but this was her show; if she wanted to try something new, he was all for it. But they would be talking about it later because there wasn’t anything sexy about the sounds she was making. It was like a porno gone wrong. Right now, his focus was on feeling that hot tongue licking at the tip of his cock.

  “Damn, babe that’s it, lick my cock.” Crank thrust his hips forward giving her better access to the full length of him, pushing his hot flesh through her gripped hand. He knew it wouldn’t take him long to come.

  Then everything changed, the feel of Cathy’s hands on him was gone, taking her heat away as well. The scream broke Crank out of his sexual and sleep-hazed mind, but what he saw when he opened his eyes, he couldn’t reconcile in his mind. Cathy, his Old Lady and the love of his life, was holding Misty by her hair, yelling at her. Yelling at him. His brain still hadn’t caught up enough to catch the words. Then what she was yelling at him hit Crank like a ton of fucking bricks.

  “You bring this fucking skank into my house when I’m upstairs and think you’re going to, what, fuck her? On my fucking couch, in our living room and think I wouldn’t notice? You’re a fucking bastard, Collin McGinnis, all the way to your core. Good thing you found a Club that matches your personality!”

  With every word, she shook Misty a little harder, causing the woman to wobble back and forth. Crank knew Misty well; he’d been holding her off for months since she came to the club and asked to be a Puppet. Why the hell was she was in his house, half dressed, and apparently molesting him while he slept on the couch?

  Cathy was looking at him with disgust flashing in her bright green eyes. Eyes which had once looked at him with love and lust, now looked at him like he was less than a man, that he was the scum of the earth. Even with that look in her eyes, she was still the most beautiful woman Crank had ever seen. Dark auburn hair, banging body, and his. Well, he
thought, at least she had been.

  “Cathy, shit, it isn’t what it looks like. I was sleeping. I swear it.” Shit, even to his ears it was a lame-assed excuse every unfaithful man spoke to their significant other at one time or another. He wasn’t like that, he had never been like that, but, fuck, this was still on him.

  Cathy was still holding Misty in a tight grip when she raised her eyebrow, looking straight at Crank's crotch. He instinctively followed her eyes and wanted to curse. His dick was hanging out, complete with bright red lipstick smears around the head. Standing up, Crank tucked the fucker away and zipped up his pants. At least, he wasn’t still hard; he didn’t know if it was a bonus or his saving grace.

  His woman frog-marched Misty from the room, heading for the door, her dark curls springing out all over the place and a devious, angry scowl decorating her face. It made her look like a crazy woman, but she was his crazy woman. It was also turning him the hell on.

  “Cathy, wait, babe, wait,” Crank said, grabbing her arm, stopping her forward movement. Cathy twirled around, releasing Misty, making the other woman start to fall. Crank reached for the woman; he was a bastard at the best of times, but he didn’t believe in women getting hurt if he could help it. He soon regretted his choice. He should have let the bitch fall on her ass.

  “Oh, so that’s how it is,” Cathy screamed. “You want her, you can fucking have her, but get the fuck out of my house!”

  “Fuck this shit,” Crank yelled. “Listen, I was asleep on the fucking couch. I thought it was you. I thought you were touching me, not her.”

  “Really, like you would let that happen, Crank. When is the last time you let me touch you like that, huh? Hell, when’s the last time you let me touch you, period? Six months ago? Longer? Fuck you and fuck her!” Cathy screamed as she turned around and stomped up the stairs.

  Crank turned on Misty and barked, “What the fuck are you doing in my house?” The bitch had the nerve to move closer, trying to push her body into his, but she must have finally gotten a clue in the useless brain of hers because she stepped back.

  “Crank,” Misty pleaded, complete with tears in her eyes, “you called me, and I came just like you asked.” He hadn’t missed the little lift of her lip as she said the words. He looked up in time to see Cathy coming back down the stairs.

  “What do you mean, he called you and you came?” Cathy asked through gritted teeth. Crank wanted the answer to the question, too, because he had never called the bitch. She looked at Cathy, no longer trying to do her fake crying shit.

  “He called the Club and said he needed me, just like I said, Cathy. Didn’t seem like he had a problem touching me.” The tramp even wiggled as if she could still feel it, making Crank's stomach revolt.

  Cathy lunged, not missing a beat, and punched her right in the face, “Well, cunt, if you want him, have at it.”

  “I will,” the Puppet said, obviously more stupid than Crank had thought, “at least, I can give him what he wants unlike you. Why would he want an old-ass, used up bitch like you when he can have me anytime he wants?” This bitch was driving toward an ass beating she wouldn’t forget any time soon. Cathy could take care of herself.

  Then he saw it, in the corner, right by the door was the chick’s clothes and purse. Spilling out of the pink monstrosity was an envelope, one he recognized. Stepping away, he bent down and picked it up. Cathy and the skank were still exchanging words, but they hadn’t gotten to the good stuff yet. Crank held up the envelope.

  “Is this why you’re here?” Crank asked holding up the letter. “Blade gave you this, not one of the prospects?”

  “Umm,” Misty said biting her lip, “if that’s what you want me to say, okay, Blade gave that to me. That’s why I’m here, baby.”

  “Cut the shit, Misty. All it will take is one phone call. Blade doesn’t lie, Cathy knows that. You better think long and hard before you answer because what I’m thinking happened is going to get a prospect’s ass beat, maybe even kicked out of the club.

  Crank looked at Cathy. She had stopped yelling and was standing in front of Misty with her arms crossed, waiting. Maybe she hadn’t lost all her trust in him.

  “Listen,” Misty said visibly paling, “it wasn’t like that. Joker was busy, and I told him I would bring it out. It's not a big deal, no need to get Blade or anyone else involved. I was just trying to help him out. You guys keep the prospects busy and…” The chick was digging her and Joker’s graves deeper with every word.

  “Okay, so you were just helping out. Care to tell me why you thought it was alright to walk into my house, take off your fucking clothes, and attack my man while he was sleeping on the couch,” Cathy asked.

  “How the hell did you even get in? The door was locked and the alarm was on. I know you sure as hell don’t have a key or the code,” Crank asked, not letting Misty answer Cathy’s question.

  “But, baby,” the bitch bit her lip, fake tears back in her eyes, and looked right at Cathy, “you gave me the key and the code the last time I was here when she was still in the hospital.”

  Crank watched as Cathy turned around and started going up the stairs. This time, she didn’t stomp or yell, but two seconds later, the slamming of the bedroom door was like the final nail in his day. Crank walked back over to the pile of clothes and purse, scooping them up. He turned around and shoved them at Misty.

  “You fucked up bitch. You should’ve never done any of this, but that shit, making her think something’s going on between us, you’re going to pay for that.” Opening the front door, he grabbed her arm and pulled her outside. Releasing her, Crank stared her down and said, “Come back here again and you’ll regret ever hearing about the Ruthless Bastards because I’ll make sure your life is a living hell. You get me?” Misty didn't answer, not that he would have listened to the cunt. She was trying to play a game which would end up getting her killed. Crank went back inside, slamming the door. What a fucking mess.

  Crank didn’t bother going back to the couch, he didn’t even want to look at the damn thing. Going into the kitchen, he went to the cupboard over the refrigerator and grabbed his bottle of Jack. Grabbing a glass, he poured himself a healthy shot, downing it, only to pour another. Thinking about what just happened, all he could do was drink down another shot. The look on Cathy’s face, the words she said were hitting him fully. He wanted to yell or rage or fuck, just beat the hell out of someone or something, but he couldn’t because she was right. He had pulled away from her, not let her touch him.

  But what did she expect? She’d been hurt, he was just trying to do right by her. Even as he thought the words, they felt hollow to him. Everything was so out of control. Fuck, he couldn’t control what was going on in his own damn house. Some fucking club whore managed to get inside and even touch him without him knowing it. What did that say about him?

  Grabbing the bottle, but forgetting all about the glass, Crank walked out to the back porch and sat down on the step. Sitting for a while, then laying back, shutting his eyes, letting the cold night air cool his body and the rage pumping off of him. The anger which was always so close now, every single day. Maybe he should just go and give them both a break.

  He didn’t know how long he’d laid there when Crank heard a muffled scream, then the creak of the floor and knew exactly what was going on. It had been happening every night for the last six months. Sitting up, he rubbed his hand over his face; no sense in getting up right now, she wouldn’t be ready for him yet, but soon. Looking at his watch, he shook his head. Four thirty-six in the morning, same time every night. He didn’t even need to set the alarm, damn it. Putting his bottle back and getting himself a glass of water, he barely remembered getting up and coming inside. It was becoming a ritual, one he didn't like. Waiting for a little while, he started for the stairs. Stopping at her door, he knocked softly, knowing full well he would wait outside her door until she answered, then they would rinse and repeat this shit all over again tomorrow. Maybe that was the problem, maybe t
hat’s what needed to change.

  Chapter 2

  Cathy woke up with her sweat-soaked body tangled in the sheets and her jaw aching from the silent screams she had so long ago learned to keep to herself. Every night, it was the same thing, sleep was never peaceful and relaxing. It brought memories. Memories she wished would stay locked away.

  Getting up, Cathy untangled herself from the sheets and blankets and made her way to the bathroom. Stripping off the t-shirt she had worn to bed, pulling it over her head, she gagged at the sickly sweet scent of perspiration the fabric had absorbed. She hated the smell of sweat, even her own. Those assholes had made sure of that. Running some water in the sink, she wet a washcloth and scrubbed her body. She should probably jump in the shower, but she couldn’t. That’s where they had grabbed her, so sink baths were now her go-to thing.

  Cathy hated feeling so weak and out of control. She hated that her shower was less than three feet away. All it would take was a couple of steps, and she could warm and wash her body the right way, and yet, she couldn’t even look at the enclosure without fear creeping into her bones. Hated that, even now, she had the door between the bedroom and bathroom wide open because she needed to keep an eye on the other room just to make sure no one came in. Hated that she didn’t feel safe, anywhere.

  She had been surprised she slept at all. When she came back upstairs after the confrontation with Crank and Misty, she had been livid and had paced the room for a while before breaking down and crying over the whole situation. That’s what must have done it, she thought, she hadn’t really cried in a very long time, only felt numb.

  After cleaning up, Cathy grabbed the sweater she kept on the hook on the bathroom door. She was about to leave the bathroom when she caught her reflection in the mirror. Walking closer to the mirror above the sink, she took the time to look at the woman staring back at her; she looked horrible. Her ordinarily auburn hair was matted and sticking up at different angles. Her pale, pasty skin only emphasized the deep, dark circles under her green eyes, making them look freakish, even to her.