Royal Bastards MC: Blayze's Inferno Los Angeles Chapter Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Blayze's Inferno Ebook

  J. Lynn Lombard

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  BY J. LYNN LOMBARD

  Copyright 2020

  Cover Design Jay Aheer Simply Definedart.com

  Edited by Sarah DeLong

  Proofread by Katrina S.

  This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide authenticity and are fictitious. All other characters and all incidents and dialogue are created in the author’s imagination and are not real. Do not copy, reproduce or quote anything without the author’s approval beforehand. The author reserves any and all rights to the book and the interaction between all characters involved.

  Warning,

  This book contains mature content and is not suitable for everyone. If you enjoy reading about Alpha males along with action, adventure and drama, please continue. This book might give you triggers. If you can’t handle death, torture or anything else along those lines, put the book down, back the fuck away and go play in the fields with your unicorns and rainbows. This book isn’t intended for the weak of hearts.

  If you’re still here, Thank you for taking a chance on me and welcome to the Royal Bastards world….

  ROYAL BASTARDS CODE

  PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else, and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.

  RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.

  HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.

  OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Ol’Lady. PERIOD.

  CHURCH is MANDATORY.

  LOYALTY: Takes precedence over all, including wellbeing.

  HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.

  TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.

  TRUST: Years to earn it…seconds to lose it.

  NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.

  Prologue

  Blayze

  Sniveling and crying, snot and tears running down his face, this low-ranking member of Los Demons is about to take his last breath. He was caught snooping around the Royal Bastards Clubhouse earlier today. Torch, our Enforcer, has been having too much fun with him for the past six hours. Between begging for his life and cursing us all to hell, he hasn’t told us jack shit on why he was there. Now, we’re out on an abandoned dead-end road and he’s on his knees in the dirt. The headlights of everyone’s bikes make a circle around the sorry piece of shit.

  “I’m gonna ask you one more time, Punta. Why are you here?” Capone, the President of Royal Bastards MC, Los Angeles Chapter and my best friend asks him. His real name is Derek but because of his badass looks and his jet-black hair, the old Prez, Chains, called him Capone when he was little and the nickname stuck ever since.

  “No entiendo.” No understand. Los Demons sobs through his tears and snot.

  “Oh, you understand all right,” Capone taunts, leaning right into his face. “Because when I end your life, I’m going to fuck your sister.” The man growls low and tries to head-butt Capone, but he steps back laughing. “Told you he understood English.”

  Capone cracks his neck from side to side. His deadly black eyes glare at our captive. His leather cut with our club logo, creaks under the move. “Pendejo, I’m going to ask you one more time. Why are the Los Demons snooping around my club?”

  “Vete a la Merida,” Fuck you. He growls.

  Capone smirks and nods his head to Torch, “Have fun. I’ve got better things to do.” Capone turns on his heels and steps away. I immediately follow him into the pitch-black night. Screams pierce the air and a shiver races down my spine. The Los Demon breathed his last breath.

  Once we’re away from the area and near where the two of us parked our bikes, Capone lights up a smoke and slows down. “Blayze, I’ll need you and Bear to keep watch over the next few days. Something tells me we haven’t seen the last of Los Demons.”

  “You got it, Prez,” I respond, lighting up my cigarette. I inhale the nicotine deep into my lungs. “What are your thoughts?”

  Capone stares out into the deserted valley sitting high in the mountains on the outskirts of Los Angeles. The property our Chapter of the Royal Bastards MC owns is perfect for what we do. We’re the elite one-percenters, riding the line of legal and illegal. We run everything from guns, to drugs, to money laundering. Some of our legal businesses such as the sanctioned fighting ring, bars and porn business keeps us off the cop’s radar. But with Los Demons sniffing around today, something big is going down. Something we’re not seeing.

  “I’m thinking, Los Demons want to take over our territory. We’ll send them a message with that piece of shit.” Capone grins. A look passes through his eyes. He enjoys this shit. Which I don’t blame him. There’s something that embeds deep into your soul when you become the judge, jury and executioner rolled into one.

  One final scream pierces the air, causing the birds roosting in the trees to take flight. Capone stomps his cigarette out under his boot and mounts his bike. I do the same and the two of us ride back to the clubhouse. My thoughts are on what our next move will be if Los Demons show up again. We can keep torturing and tormenting them, or we can go on the offense and go after them. Make them stop now before one of our own gets caught in the crosshairs. And by one of our own, I’m thinking about a sexy as fuck porn queen, Monica. Capone’s sister. From her long lean legs which wrap perfectly around my waist, to her shoulder length dark hair I can grab while fucking her from behind. Monica consumes my every thought. I won’t make a move on her because she’s Capone’s little sister, but I sure as fuck will fantasize while I jack off at night or while I fuck some nameless, faceless club whore.

  Chapter 1

  Blayze

  The rumble of my Harley Davidson Deluxe Review-First Ride pierces the quiet night. Capone and I follow the road that leads to a long driveway and ride up to a chain-link fence surrounding a huge cement building that used to be a warehouse at one time but now belongs to the Royal Bastards MC. There’s a guard shack to the left in front of the fence unmanned. The only way in or out of this place is through the rolling gates. Unless you want to be a fucking idiot like the now dead guy for Los Demons and climb the fence. We set security cameras up in every corner of the building and the blind spot along the fence moving with us on motion sensors. Capone and I stand idle until the gates to our clubhouse roll open. Once Tiny sees us from his spot at the over watch, he hits a button and the gate buzzes and creaks, allowing us inside. Capone and I ride to the left of the gates, past the full parking lot and roll up to the white garage doors. He hits a button on his bike and the door rolls up. We pull inside and park our bikes side by side, while
the garage door closes behind us. The fluorescent lights turn on the motion sensors detecting our movements.

  I remove my helmet, hanging it on the handlebars and light up a smoke. The nicotine burns my lungs and relaxes me. Capone climbs off his bike, removes his helmet and places it on the backseat. “I need you to find Monica and keep a close eye on her.”

  Capone might not admit to caring about his sister, but we all know he does. Sometimes he cares too much and Monica being on the receiving end gets pissed. She’s an independent woman determined to make it in our world without relying on her brother. All he wants to do is protect her. In his mind, he failed her when he sent her to Detroit and Steam, the President of Savage Saints, MC Detroit caught up with her. We didn’t know Chains, our old President, knew Steam. We were in the middle of a turf war where tides were turning, and Monica was trapped in the crosshairs. Capone thought it was safer for her to be there, but it wasn’t. Steam figured out who she was and tried to kill her. He caught her, but Monica’s stubborn ass refused to succumb to him. She still carries the emotional and physicals scars.

  “Aye, Prez. Consider it done. I won’t let her out of my sight.” I reply, stomping my smoke out.

  I climb off my bike and together we walk down the long corridor leading deep into the clubhouse. We enter the common room together. To the left are the pool tables and dartboards. Some brothers who didn’t make the run with us tonight are there, hitting on the club whores and they’re soaking up the attention. To the right are a few couches and chairs set up in front of a seventy-inch-widescreen TV. The noise from the Xbox drowns out talking as people are gathering around it and taking bets as a prospect and Trigger, our Treasurer, battle it out in a boxing match.

  To the back of the common room is another prospect tending the bar. He’s slinging drinks as fast as he can with a white towel thrown over his shoulder. Behind the bar is our club logo etched in mirrored glass. Twenty-six Chapters range from the east coast starting in Boston, MA; NYC; Baltimore, MD, all the way south to Miami, FL then across the US through Georgia, Mississippi, Louisiana, Tennessee, Kentucky, Missouri, West Virginia, Michigan, Colorado, Nebraska, Texas, to the west coast in Arizona, California, Nevada and Alaska. Twenty-six Chapters all over the US. If any one of them needs anything, we drop what we’re doing and go in a heartbeat. Loyalty to the Club goes before everything else. It doesn’t matter if you’re balls deep in your Ol’ Lady on your honeymoon in Cavo. If a Chapter needs help, you are there with no hesitation.

  A pair of long, sun-kissed slender legs sitting at the bar catches my attention. My eyes trail up the pair of legs to an ass perfect for squeezing, following a slender back, slightly arched, and curly dark hair with blonde highlights. She tilts her head to the side and Monica pins me with a cool gaze in her honey brown eyes. She lifts the beer bottle to her plump, red lips and takes a long pull. Watching her lick her lips, everyone’s voices fade to the background. It’s just the two of us around as I watch her seductively shift on the bar stool. She turns her body, so her back is to the bar and I get a full view of her luscious rack in a red, tight-fitting dress. Monica crosses one leg over the other and pops her chest out a little. My cock takes notice and is now at full attention behind the zipper of my tight jeans. This woman will be the death of me if I can’t get her to see how good we fit together. As long as her brother doesn’t kill me first.

  I take one step in front of the other, my eyes set on my prey. Monica’s smoky eyes are hooded with desire, the closer I get. I adjust the raging hard-on and she smirks. She knows what she does to me and loves to be a dick tease. One day, very soon, she’ll be begging me to let her suck my cock and she’ll be grateful to swallow every inch of me. Then, when I’m buried balls deep into her sweet pussy, she’ll be begging me to take her over the edge. I’ll spread her legs wide and feast on that succulent pussy making her scream my name in ecstasy.

  A warm hand wraps around my bicep, bursting the seductive bubble Monica and I are in and she stiffens on her seat, swinging back around to face the bar. I look down and see Samantha’s purple nails digging into my skin. Her lavender scent surrounding me, making me stifle a gag.

  “Can we talk?” Sam bats her green eyes at me. She is the club bitch. Always wanting her way and throws a fit when she doesn’t get it. She can make your life a living hell if you don’t oblige.

  “What do you want, Sam?” I growl low in my throat. The raging hard-on I had disappears from her voice alone.

  “I just want to talk to you.” Sam whines. She pushes her blonde hair with purple streaks back, tucking it behind her ears. Some guys might enjoy her company, but I don’t. I can’t stand the bitch and she knows this.

  “I’m busy.” I try to pull her claws from my arm, but she won’t let go. If anything, she digs deeper into my skin. I’m surprised I don’t see blood blooming from under her nails. “Club business, Sam. Move along to another brother who I’m sure will give you the attention you’re seeking. That isn’t me. Never has been. Never will be.” I finally get her claws off my bicep and turn back to the bar.

  Monica is gone. Nowhere in sight. I search with my eyes, all over the common room and she’s not in here. Sam is still standing next to me batting her eyes and licking her lips. The look is disgusting.

  “Looks like your business disappeared on you.” Samantha runs her fingers up my cut. “I can be the business you need to attend to. Not some stuck-up little bitch who thinks she’s better than the rest of us.”

  Rage simmers below my skin. I grab her hand on my cut and put just enough pressure to make Samantha squeal. I rarely put my hands on a woman, but she’s pushed my last nerve. I pull her in close and she struggles before relaxing against my brutal grip. She’s one of the women who like it rough. A smile graces her lips and Sam purrs with delight. She thinks I will fuck her now, and I use that to my advantage.

  I lean in real close, pressing my nose against the shell of her ear. “If you ever touch me again, I will fucking kill you. I never and won’t ever want you. Get that through your thick skull. There will never be a thing between us.” I release her hand and she stumbles a little in her six inch stilettos. “Now get the fuck away from me before you regret getting on my bad side.” Samantha scrambles away fast, looking for refuge in another’s arms. Thank fuck she finally gets the hint.

  I search each room in the back of the common room. These rooms are for the club brothers and their families when we are on lockdown. Each room is set up for a family ranging from two to four people, in case we needed a comfortable place for them to stay in. Coming up empty, I continue my search. Monica has to be around here somewhere. Why does she make my job harder than it has to be?

  I head out the back door and cross the parking lot in the back of the clubhouse. It’s secluded and dark back here. The flood lights set up around the perimeter give off just enough light to see the path toward the gym. The warm summer night wraps around me. Grunting noises catch my attention toward the gym. I close the distance with quick steps. I push open the metal door and search the dark room not seeing Monica. I spot a faint light coming from the back of the gym. I quietly make my way toward the light and hear more grunting, followed by sobs that break my heart into a million pieces. I know that sob from anywhere. I’ve heard it and soothed it for months after Monica’s attack in Detroit. She’s spiraling and I need to be here to help build her back up. It’s not a job for me, but something I want to do. I want to be here when she needs me.

  I lean against the doorway leading into the boxing room and let her get it all out. Sometimes I can’t interfere. If I do, it makes her breakdown even worse. She’ll lash out at me instead of battling the demons in her mind. I watch as she hits a big bag with everything she has. In her skin-tight red dress and no heels, it’s sexy as fuck. Her bare feet are in the fighter stance I taught her years ago. Sweat beads on her brow and her curly hair is plastered to her tear-stained face.

  Monica stops swinging at the bag and collapses onto the mats, sobbing. I
hurry over to her and wrap her body into my arms. At first, she fights my embrace, then her body relaxes against mine.

  “I’m sorry, Bug. So sorry this happened to you.” I smooth her hair out of her face and Monica looks up at me with tears in her eyes.

  “It’s not your fault, Xander.” Monica is the only one who can get away with calling me by my real name and not my road name, Blayze.

  I wipe the tears from her cheeks and press my lips against her forehead. “What set you off?”

  “Honestly? I have no idea. I was doing fine until that skank,” She’s referring to Sam. “Had her hands all over you.”

  “You know there’s nothing going on right?”

  “Yeah, I know. But then I think about what she can give you that I can’t and I spiral.”

  “The only thing she can give me that you can’t is an STD. That woman is nasty.” I shiver at the thought. Monica laughs a little, showing me we’re on the right path, fighting from the darkness consuming her.

  “What if one day, we take this,” She points between us, “Whatever we have further and you want kids? I can’t give you that. That choice was taken away from me.”

  “Bug, I know that. And it doesn’t matter. Whatever is between us,” I point between the two of us, mimicking her. “Is between us. If we take this further and someday want kids, we can adopt. There are plenty of things we can do. But let’s not worry about that right now. Right now, I need to keep you safe. You’re not to leave my sight until further notice and I don’t want it any other way.”

  Monica releases a deep sigh and snuggles into my arms. Her small frame fits perfectly against my large one. The scent of jasmine and vanilla, everything that makes Monica, fills my nose and I savor it. She runs a finger along the tattoos on my arm marking my skin.