Read BROKEN WINGS: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK THREE) Online
Authors: Honey Palomino
BROKEN WINGS: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK THREE) (23 page)
Never in a million years would he have thought he would be looking down at a soul he had helped create.
But never in a million years would he have thought he would have fallen in love, either.
The last few months with Diana had been amazing. After rescuing her, and the other girls, from Wyatt, he knew he’d never be able to let her go. She was a part of him. She had found her way into his heart.
His long dead heart had been brought back to life with her gentle touch, her soft laughter, and her breathtaking beauty.
And now he had a boy to raise.
He knew he wouldn’t be perfect. Far from it. He knew he had a lot to learn. Hell, he had everything to learn. His parents had only taught him what not to do when you raised a kid.
But he knew one important thing.
He knew he had to teach him that he could fly to unimaginable heights. And when he crashed, as he would surely do, then he’d show him that he could still fly.
Even with broken wings.
**THE END**
Honey Palomino is a true romantic at heart!
She loves reading and writing about dangerous bad boys and the women that love them!
OTHER TITLES BY HONEY PALOMINO
BIKER ROMANCE AND EROTICA
BOYS SERIES (MMF THREESOME EROTICA)
THREESOME/MULTIPLES EROTICA
WEREWOLF ROMANCE AND EROTICA
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REMEMBER ME: GODS OF CHAOS MC -
THE BOOK THAT STARTED THE GODS OF CHAOS MC!
REMEMBER ME
GODS OF CHAOS MC
Copyright © 2015 by HONEY PALOMINO
All Rights Reserved Worldwide
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, locations and incidences are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is for entertainment purposes only.
This book contains mature content
and is intended for adults only.
REMEMBER ME
GODS OF CHAOS MC
By Honey Palomino
CHAPTER ONE
Ryder
We’re not called the Gods of Chaos for nothing.
The glare of the streetlights hit the chrome on my bike as I turned off the freeway and onto the unpaved road that led to my clubhouse. Dirt flew up on both sides of my thick tires. My headlight cast shadows of the tall, towering pine trees of the Tillamook Forest across the road; the only thing lighting my way through the heavy darkness of the woods. Five curvy miles later, I was separated from all civilization, and the familiar peacefulness washed over me.
I was home. I was right where I belonged. I might have outgrown all the partying a little over the years, but it was all I had ever known. That life out there? Away from the clubhouse? I didn’t belong there. I never had, and I never would.
As I roared up to the rundown cabin, the never-ending party was at its peak. Deafeningly loud music poured from the open doors and windows, and a glowing amber light spilled onto the dirty bikes parked out front. Each person that trailed in and out of the door had a drink in their hand and most had a smile on their face. The women all had a wiggle in their step, as they sashayed past leather-clad, drunken hell-raisers, flirtatiously batting their eyes and swinging their voluptuous hips.
The sun had set, and just like it did every night, the wildness began seeping out into the darkness at the God of Chaos MC Clubhouse like a slithering, evil snake.
In the corner of the parking lot, a circle had formed around Riot and Slade, two of the Gods. They were in their usual fighting stance, playing a game they both seemed to enjoy immensely, for whatever perverted reason. Both shirtless, their dirty jeans and boots were the only protection that stood between their flesh and the ground, or each other’s fists.
Slade was bleeding through his grin, while Riot danced around him, trying to get another hit in before Slade knocked him out. Slade always won. I didn’t bother to keep watching, because it always played out the same way. Slade would knock him out, then pick him up and take him inside and pour whiskey down his throat till he shook it off and they laughed about it into the early morning hours. They were both more than a little crazy, but I loved them.
Near the window to the right of the front door, I saw Zander, my VP. His old lady, Valerie, was on her knees, servicing him with a vigor that almost made me envious. I laughed when he caught my eye and winked at me as I pulled off my helmet and parked my bike. He gave me a thumbs up as I strode past him, shaking my head with a smile as he buried his hands in his old lady’s black curls and looked up at the shining stars sprinkled in the sky above us.
The sound of breaking glass and a string of words that would have made a sailor blush echoed out the window on the other side of the front door.
As I approached the door, I ducked just in time to miss the flying beer bottle that escaped from the doorway, followed by Thorn, our prospect, - one hand gripping his girlfriend Tiff’s ass, and the other outstretched and reaching for a wall to steady them both on. His hand missed by two inches, and they both tumbled to the ground in front of me, their tongues still firmly tangled together.
I stepped over them, picked up the surprisingly still intact beer bottle, and headed towards the bar to find a fresh one for myself.
This place was hardly what any normal person would consider peaceful. But that was just it. It wasn’t normal.
And my brothers here? The outliers? The fringe of society? The partiers? The survivors? They weren’t normal, either.
All we knew was chaos. The only way we knew how to live was on the edge.
We were born in it. We were raised in it.
It defines our very existence in this world.
Hell, every day we continue to create it, just by being alive.
We’re the Gods of Chaos.
And we love every fucking chaotic second of it.
CHAPTER TWO
Grace
Do you ever wish you could change the channel on your past? Give yourself a whole new identity, and lay down the unfortunate baggage you were assigned to carry into your future?
You do your best to leave it behind, but the memories stay with you. Indelible. Unforgettable. Unforgivable.
The best thing you can do is carry on and figure out how to cope when the memories sneak up on you unexpectedly. I should know. I’ve tried everything to forget. I’ve turned my back on the places, the people, the pain. But it’s always there. Lingering, like a disease.
You can’t pick where you came from.
But, eventually, when you get old enough, you can choose where you’re headed.
And that’s what I did. As soon as I could, I left all the dysfunction of my family behind, and I ran towards my future.
Unfortunately, it stays with you, and you quickly learn you can’t forget it, no matter how much you try. If I couldn't forget, as much as I wanted to, I could use the past and everything I survived to make a new life of my own, and hopefully save some others in the process.
My name is Grace. Grace Evans. I used to be Grace Faith Taylor. But I escaped that life, and changed my name. Unlike a lot of people with similar histories, I was able to get out alive.
The key to surviving was simply leaving. As long as I wasn’t around my family, I was safe. It was the opposite of how it was supposed to be. I didn’t have a normal home.
Now that I was out, now that I was an adult, I set out to turn it around.
I survived hell, and I knew there were others still living in it, and a lot of them had it even worse than what I went through.
My goal became to get them all out, one by one, if that’s what it took. No matter how long, or how hard or dangerous it became, it was worth it if I saved just one girl from one more day of suffering.
I grew up, I told my story, and I put my abusers away. The trial was torture, but I got what I wanted. Ten years each. I did my best to put it all behind me after that.
I changed my name to give myself a little distance, a little autonomy.
Then, I worked my ass off until I got into the exact position I needed to be in to do what I had decided I was put here on this Earth to do.
Stop the madness. Stop the abuse of women and children by predatory monsters that wanted only to use them up and spit them out. To do so, I became a monster myself. A one woman army fighting day and night, living and breathing my mission until I was the mission.
There was no personal life. There was just my life. And all the others I planned on saving along the way.
I was determined to let nothing get in my way, and so far, nothing had.
Not until now. Now, I had a problem. An obstacle.
And it was standing over me, watching the blood stream out of my mouth with a joy so evil that it was oozing from him. The thick, heavy strike of his leather boot on my ribs pushed me back six inches in the dirt and my eyes began to blur as the flesh around them began to swell from the impact from his fists moments ago.
