Where Souls Spoil (Bayonet Scars Series, Volume I) (Bayonet Scars #1-4.5)

“How long has it been since I fucked her?” he asks. I fight the looming tension in my shoulders. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like I made you watch while I did it.”


“You got a beef with me, you take it out on me,” I say, standing up and getting right down in his face, leaning into his personal space. “But you fucked with my girl, and that was a bad move. Just because you can fuck her up like that doesn’t mean you should have. Be a fucking man and take your shot at me, because get this, brother—cut or no cut, history or not, I won’t turn a blind eye again. The next time is the last time. Do not test me,” I growl.

Without another word, he stands and leaves the way he came. I push the cereal bowl away and rub my eyes until they hurt. Trigger didn’t make me watch, but he sure wasn’t quiet about it.

xxx

“She was tight, dude—like virgin tight,” Ryan says in excitement. “Do you think she was a virgin?”

“I don’t know,” I say. This is the last thing I want to talk about—Ryan sleeping with Nicole. He knew how I feel about her before he did it. She’s hot and funny, and every now and then she rides to school on the back of her dad’s Harley. He’s a member of the Forsaken Motorcycle Club with Ryan’s dad. She looks good on the back of a bike. I just wish she were riding on mine.

One day it will be mine.

Ryan’s nowhere near being a virgin, and Nicole’s so much younger than us. He had no fucking right going after her at that party—not after I told him I was going to ask her out. Plus, she’s barely a freshman, and we should be graduating next year. Well, we would be graduating next year if we’d passed all of our classes. I’m behind by four, and he’s behind by five. My mom’s pretty mad, so mad that she’s threatening to take away my car. I think if I flash her a big enough smile she’ll give me a few more weeks to bring my grades up. It won’t do any good, but by then maybe Ryan and I can convince his dad to let us prospect at the motorcycle club. That’s been the plan since we were kids, and we’ve never deviated from it. Unfortunately, Mom doesn’t get it, but one day she will. One day Mom will see that the club’s the best option. College is a fucking joke, and it’s not like there’s many great jobs in this town. One day she’ll see, and then Ryan and I will officially be brothers. Patched in life and patched in death.





Chapter 11



As I pull up to Butch’s house, I realize I have no fucking clue what the hell I’m going to say to Nic’s brother when I see him. It’s been too damn long, but I’ve had shit to take care of in Nevada. Whatever I decide, it just needs to get the point across that he fucked up and remind him what it means to fuck with Forsaken. I don’t know what the fuck his sister’s doing about his attitude, but it’s not up to her anymore. His ass was mine the second he screwed up my paint, and, as my woman, her problems are my problems.

The small ranch house’s yellow paint is so faded and chipped it looks almost gray. The lawn is overgrown and flows into the street, driveway, and walkway to the front door. The house never looked like this before Butch went down for that shit in Oakland. That was one thing about Butch Whelan—even after his Old Lady left town—he made damn sure his kids had a good home. How Nic and Jeremy were going to figure shit out without him was one of his biggest worries when he went away. A man like that—one who gives a fuck about this kids—is one I can respect. Unlike my own father, whoever he may be.

I turn off my bike, kick the stand down, and dismount, then walk to the door. I make a mental note to make one of the prospects come by and mow the lawn. When we have a clear enough forecast, I’ll set it up for them to paint the exterior.

The house is quiet, but I know damn well they’re home. Neither of them is a morning person, and Nic’s car is in the driveway. I slam my knuckles against the wooden door with enough force that the sound it creates could wake the dead. And still, the house is dead silent.

“Truancy Office,” I shout and continue to knock loudly and obnoxiously. It’s a Friday morning and I know Jeremy’s taking summer school. Fucking punk. With any luck, Nic won’t recognize my voice.

“Goddamn it, Jeremy!” she shouts from inside the house. Her voice is raspy from sleep. Even as irritable as she sounds, I still like to hear her talk. “If you skipped again, I’m not going to save your ass!”