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Authors: Jenika Snow

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Malice's Possession

BOOK: Malice's Possession
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Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2014
Jenika Snow

ISBN:
978-1-77130-905-9

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Karyn White

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

To my family for their continued support, to the readers that have stuck through this journey with me from the very beginning, and to the new ones that have joined on the way. Thank you Evernight for giving my stories a home. Without all of you I wouldn't be able to share my characters with you.

MALICE’S POSSESSION

The Brothers of Menace MC, 1

Jenika Snow

Copyright © 2014

Chapter One

Trevor “Malice” Mason’s dick wasn’t even hard despite the tits and ass being flaunted around. Although usually his sexual appetite could rival that of a teenager who just found out that sticking his dick in pussy felt good, for a while now he hadn’t been feeling the need to let loose. It wasn’t because the mother of his son, Molly, was now the old lady of Stinger, a member of the Grizzly MC. He was genuinely happy for them and knew that Stinger treated her and his son well. It would have been a whole other situation if Malice’s instincts had told him that the Grizzly wasn’t genuine in how he felt toward Molly. Hell, they had even gotten into it because Malice had thought he was still in love with Molly. But that was in the past. Malice hadn’t still been in love with her, but just kept to the idea that she was still his. He took a swig of his beer and balanced the bottle on his knee once he was finished.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and he looked to the side to see Tuck pulling up a chair and sitting beside him. “You ready for the run tomorrow?”

Malice grunted and nodded. “Yeah. Going to be heading out at nine and ride straight through and we should get into Utah about four in the morning.”

“Told Lucien I was able to make it with you the three of you, but he needs me here for that gun trade.”

Malice waved off Tuck’s response. “It’s all good, man. I’d rather have you here to make sure things are good with Dakota.” He glanced at Tuck again and saw the older man nod. Tuck wasn’t much older than Malice’s forty-two years, but the other biker had a lot of life experiences placed on his shoulders, and that showed on his face. The knife scar right over his jugular still showed a bright white even though it had been ten years since he had gotten the damn thing. Tuck had several days’ growth on his face, and even though his hair was a light shade there were strands of grey throughout it. Hell, they all had grey, had rough fucking lives, but it was the ones they had chosen, and Malice sure as shit wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

“Dakota and Molly will be looked after, but you know they got Stinger that watches over them like some kind of protective bastard.”

Malice grunted in acknowledgment. “Yeah, but I like my own crew there, too.” Tuck nodded and shifted down in his seat. They watched the two women dance and grind on each other, and after a while Tuck spoke again.

“You going mountain man now?” There was a teasing note in Tuck’s voice.

Malice chuckled and scratched at his cheeks. He hadn’t shaved in at least a week, and the once stubble was now thicker. He certainly wasn’t all grizzly bear with a full on beard, but at this rate, especially considering his just not giving a shit attitude, he was headed there in no time at all. “Nah, just not caring about my appearance.”

“Well, ain’t like you can’t get enough pussy around here, even if you look like you been living under a rock.”

Malice didn’t respond, but even if he’d had something to say one of the club girls came over and straddled Tuck’s lap. Her tits were big and fake, and unrestrained by a top. They shook as she moved the top half of her body in front of Tuck’s face.

Since several of them were going on a run tomorrow, tonight was about the alcohol, doing some coke and weed, and getting their dicks wet. Malice had never been one to like illicit drugs. Smoking some joints was one thing, but doing lines of blow had never been for him, especially when he had his kid to take care of. He brought his beer bottle to his mouth and took a long swallow. He was currently sporting wood because a fine piece of ass was currently rubbing her tits and G-string covered pussy all over another club woman. They were in the center of the room, their hands all over each other, their tongue down the other’s mouths, and their tits pressed so tightly together there had to be indents from their nipples.

“Man, I am going to take that redhead and fuck her so hard she won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.”

Malice leaned further back in the leather chair his ass was in and glanced over at The Brothers’ VP. Kink looked fucked up already, but kept calling out for the prospect manning the bar to bring over more shots.

“Malice, toss one back with me, brother.” Kink grabbed the two shots of whiskey from the prospect and handed one to Malice. “To having a good fucking time, to the health of your kid, and to all we care about.” Kink’s words were slightly slurred, but then again all of the members of the MC were fucked up beyond recognition.

They clinked their glasses together and tossed the
rough liquor back. When more women came forward and started rubbing their shit all over members, jerking the guys off and getting them ready to fuck this was his cue to get the fuck out of here. He clapped Tuck on the shoulder and got out of the couch. Kink was now getting his own private lap dance, but it was more of a “cop a feel” with his fingers up her twat.

Malice was too drunk to drive to his place, so he made his way toward the back of the clubhouse and found a room that wasn’t otherwise occupied with people fucking. Shutting the door behind him, he took his cut and shirt off. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off, but didn’t bother taking his jeans off. The light was still off, and he lay back on the bed, put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. The shadows from outside moved across it, but for as exhausted and drunk as he was he couldn’t fall asleep. The run tomorrow would take him, Kink, and Ruin to Utah to look over some girls that were with another Brothers charter. Normally they didn’t swap females around like this, but the Fairview charter was getting heat from the local PD and many of the churches around the small town that were trying to drive them out. A Brothers of Menace club didn’t let anyone screw with them, but they also tried to keep the peace, and distancing themselves from the moral police that had swarmed in when the local police had raided their clubhouse and found out they were selling pussy, hadn’t gone well for them. So, The River Run charter was taken some of the girls for the time being, and helping out their fellow brothers until shit died down.

Since The Brothers had gotten involved in selling pussy full-time, and staying out of drugs, things were going well. Although they didn’t make nearly as much as they had dealing coke, having that kind of heat on the club was bound to get them in trouble. Selling women wasn’t legal either, but the authorities were more interested—at this point in time at least—in bigger shit like guns and drugs. They may not deal guns, but that didn’t mean they still didn’t need weapons to protect the club and the girls that worked for them. It was necessary to have them, and the violence that was associated with their MC, and any of them that they were associated with for that matter, meant they had to do some pretty deplorable shit at times. But Malice couldn’t deny that for as bad a rap as The Brothers got in River Run, they did good shit, too. Taking on those beaten and battered prostitutes all those months back and building them a safe haven to recover in was one of the more goodhearted things they had done. They might not do good shit like that all the time, but they weren’t always bastards.

The sound of a Harley pulling into the lot had the glare from the lone headlight slashing across the ceiling. He might not have to leave until tomorrow night to pick up the females, but it was already going on three in the morning. Selling flesh was probably pretty fucking low to some people, but what those people didn’t understand was that if the women decided to work for them they got protection, safety, and were well cared for. They were not just pussy for sale to the Brothers, but women that had decided on this path for themselves, and had gone into business with the MC. Was prostitution decent work? Maybe
money-wise, but it certainly wasn’t honorable. He didn’t judge what someone else chose to do, though, especially when his own life was filled with plenty of dishonorable things. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let the wave of alcohol that thrummed through his veins take him under so he didn’t have to think about any of the shit around him.

He scrubbed his hand over his face and breathed out.

****

Adrianna looked over at Phillip as he cut another line of blow on the small mirror in front of him. She was sitting on the floor in the corner, pressed as hard against the wall as she could stand because even thinking of being close to him had bile rising in her throat. Dried blood covered her nose and the side of her mouth from when Phillip had backhanded her because she hadn’t brought him his dinner fast enough. She watched as he leaned forward, closed one nostril with his finger, and placed the end of a rolled up dollar bill in the other nostril. He inhaled deeply, and promptly leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. A few of his junkie friends were already passed out, one on the floor and the other on the chair by the couch. One still had the damn tourniquet wrapped around his bicep
from when he had shot up heroin earlier, and the most likely filthy needle hanging from the crook of his arm.

For
several months she had subjected herself to this life, but it hadn’t always been this nightmare that she feared she’d never wake up from. The first month with Phillip had been great. He had been one of those guys that could captivate a person with a look alone. That was exactly what he had done with her. He had pulled her in, made her trust him, care for him, and then he had slowly started to show himself in small increments. He was a master manipulator, that was so vividly clear, and she hated herself that she had allowed herself to once again be taken advantage of.

The nice dinners and the constant compliments had all just been a disguise to who is truly was. But Adrianna couldn’t blame anyone but herself. She had allowed herself to stay in this situation, stupidly thinking that the first time he had put his hands on her was because he had been too drunk to know what he had been doing. And then when he started doing the drugs right in front of her she’d told herself that he had just been stressed out because of losing his job. Threatening to leave had her hoping he might change what he was doing, because she had cared about him, or at least she thought she had. But what she should have done was just leave, not threaten to do it, because all that had
gotten her in the end was a lot of pain, some bruises, and broken ribs.

After that things had spiraled downhill faster than she had even been able to comprehend. She could blame a lot of things
for why she subjected herself to this: a broken home as a child, and her absentee mother more concerned with the many men she brought home than her or her younger brother. Adrianna could even say that all of that and then losing her brother at the tender age of sixteen to drugs had made her blind to the life she had allowed herself to live. But the truth was she knew what was happening, and even though Phillip had this mean streak when he was high, there were also times he made her feel wanted. At least there
had
been times. Now things were just bad, and she knew that if she didn’t leave she would end up another statistic.

“Adrianna, come here.” Phillips voice was soft and slurred. He turned his head and looked at her through the slits of his eyes. He was higher than the kite and drunk to boot. “I said come here.” He said it a bit more firmly.

She wasn’t foolish enough to think just because he seemed lax at the moment because of the drugs that he wouldn’t shift into Mr. Hyde. Adrianna picked herself off the floor and moved toward him. She was going to leave, had been planning how to do it without Phillip stopping her, and had been saving what little money she had earned before Phillip had slowly isolated her. It certainly wasn’t enough to get her far enough away from him as she would have liked, but she wanted out of this shitty town. She could move to Salt Lake. The bigger city would be a welcome change from the backwards and shitty town she had been living in her whole life. If she didn’t get out of her now she wouldn’t live to her twenty-third birthday. When she was a few feet from him she stopped.

He stared at her for a few seconds, and then this slow grin spread across his face. Without saying anything he reached down and undid the button of his jeans and slid the zipper down. For how high and drunk he was she was surprised he could even get it up, but he was hard, and his lecherous grin spread even further until he looked like an even grislier version of The Joker. “Suck it.”

She glanced at the two pieces of waste of space no more than a few feet from them, and then she looked back at Phillip. Shaking her head and taking a step back, she wasn’t going to be subjected to his sick and depraved desires again. His friends roused slightly, but with a few grunts they fell back asleep.

BOOK: Malice's Possession
12.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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