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Venom’s Revenge (Ruthless Rejects MC #1)
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I was called trash by those who knew me, the product of a drunken night, an accidental daughter by the two I called Mom and Dad. I might never leave the trailer I called home, never have a life outside of the aged walls in my room, or the stained mattress I slept on.
But as much as the world tried to drag me down, I knew one thing. I had dreams, hopes, and ambition. One day I’d be free of the darkness that clung to me like a second skin.
And then I decided to say screw it all and leave the decay behind.
But before I could escape, I was taken, thrown in the back of a van, and told hell was waiting for me.
And it looked like the devil himself had plans for me.
The Ruthless Rejects MC.
Bastards. Savages. Criminals.
We weren’t good men, came from the wrong side of the tracks, but together we became a brotherhood, a family.
We embraced how tarnished and dangerous we were.
Even if that family got blood on their hands, and ran on violence, we were as one and would always have each other’s backs.
I wasn’t one of those misunderstood men who couldn’t process what happened to them growing up. No, I embraced the darkness, let it consume me, change who I was.
Now I was as evil as the devil himself.
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A savage upbringing.
Abuse, neglect … unloved.
An innocent life taken from me.
That had been my life in a nutshell. I was paraphrasing, of course, because my life had been hell in every conceivable way, but I’d crawled out of it, made a new life for myself, found a brotherhood.
I hadn’t turned my life around. I was still the same motherfucking bastard I always was. I always would be.
I was the scum of the world, an asshole, a piece of shit human who used violence and aggression to get my point across, to get my way.
Blond hair. Blue eyes. A laugh that had been able to pull me back from the brink of violence.
The one who had been taken from me over two decades ago. The only person who had stuck by me when no one else would.
She’d been my light in a dark, ugly world, and had been taken from me brutally.
Left behind in a dumpster like she’d been nothing more than a piece of trash.
The toxicology report had said the cause of death had been blunt force trauma to the head. They’d caught the fucker, he’d served jail time, professed that it was an accident.
Made no difference. What was done was done. And now was finally the time for Venom to end it.
Since my sister died, I’d done nothing but search for the man who’d killed her.
And I’d finally found him, knew where he lived, how his life was, how he’d claimed he was “reformed,” what his wife’s name was … and the fact he had an eighteen-year-old daughter.
He couldn’t run, couldn’t change his name and start over like nothing had happened.
I’d make sure that piece of shit murderer would know the pain of what it felt like to lose someone.
I had it all planned out, would be leaving the clubhouse soon to exact my revenge, to cause that motherfucker as much pain as I’d felt all these years.
Cold. Dead on the inside. Ruthless.
It’s why I’d started the Ruthless Rejects MC all those years ago. I’d needed an escape, needed a group of men who were of like mind, from the wrong side of the tracks, and whose moral compass was broken. No empathy. No sympathy.
We were a bunch of hardened bastards who righted our wrongs in the only way we knew how.
With violence, revenge, and the need for blood.
“Fuck, Prez, you look like you need another shot.” Rooney, the secretary of the club, passed me the whole fucking bottle of whiskey, not bothering to fill up the shot glass.
I lifted the bottle and tipped it toward him before bringing it to my mouth and taking a long drink. I turned on the barstool and stared at the party unfolding before me.
Our clubhouse had started as a two room structure off of the highway, situated on a piece of land owned by one of the members. Over the years with a lot of hard work and a shitload of illegal activity to bring in the cash to fix it up, we now had a compound with woods surrounding three sides of the clubhouse, and enough interior space that each member could have their own room to crash, call their own, or bring a sweet butt back to fuck good and hard.
Crank, my VP, leaned against the pool table shooting the shit with our Sergeant at Arms, Vice. There were two sweet butts between them, twins, who went by the names of Sugar and Spice. Fitting, since one was sweet as could be, a good girl next door personality who just happened to like getting fucked in the ass.
Her twin, Spice, on the other hand, had a mouth on her that could cause a man’s balls to shrivel up, not to mention she gave some fucking incredible head in the process of telling you off.
I watched as Anarchy, one of the patches, pulled a sweet butt down on his lap and proceeded to shove his hand down her shirt, cupping a tit. There was no shame in any of our gazes. We watched, like voyeurs getting off, as members shoved their dicks in the ass of a female, licked their cunts, or skull-fucked them, making them take dick and balls all in the same breath.
We were dirty bastards in every sense of the word, but the women that clung to us, hung out at the clubhouse, knew what they were getting into … who they were letting into their bodies.
And so, we used them, fucked them, and moved on to the next pussy.
“You heading out tomorrow morning?” Rooney said and I glanced over at him. “You taking care of it?”
I nodded. “It’s time.” I’d watched her, knew her routine. I knew where she would be tomorrow morning, knew that she planned on getting the fuck out of Dodge. I had to get to her before that. I had to take her and exact my revenge.