Rush (Carolina Bad Boys, #5)
Rie Warren
Author Note
This is me, keeping it brief (if that’s even possible). As with Boomer’s book—Chrome—certain plot points from the Bad Boys of Retribution MC series overlap here.
Does that mean you can’t read Rush as a standalone? Nope. Not at all. But if you want the full flavor of my original Bad Boys books the reading order would be: Carolina Bad Boys Stone Ride (a standalone novella) Love Steele Bad Boys of Retribution MC
Hunter Kinkaid Bo Coletrane Back to Carolina Bad Boys Chrome Rush And then check out the other spinoff: Bad Boys of X-Ops complete series.
As always, happy sexy reading and thanks for your support!
XOXO, Rie~
Chapter One
The Girl Next Door
IT WAS MAY WHEN Boomer and Rayce returned from their honeymoon, and they stepped into the Retribution MC bar nothing short of . . . exultant. Yeah. Pussy word probably learned from a poetry book during my prep-school-good-boy years, but it was true.
Fuck if the newlyweds hadn’t been through ten thousand different versions of hell—alone and together. Rayce’s dad abusing her. Boomer losing his folks in a car crash he blamed himself for. Then finding out the man who’d raised Rayce—I used the term raised lightly—wasn’t her blood relation after all. Thank fuck for that.
Boomer, the big man who kept his emotions close to his chest, had been bitten hard by the love thing the second he’d spotted the Ladies of Redemption MC hottie, the only female mechanic at Josh Stone’s booming lowcountry garage.
They made an amazing couple, and everyone in the joint immediately stomped to their feet to welcome their homecoming. Shrill whistles, loud shouts, beer bottles slamming on tabletops . . . And of course some fucking wiseass started pumping “Another One Bites the Dust” over the speakers.
Tucker watched all with his big gray handlebar mustache trembling, his bright eyes a little damp.
The most un-fucking-believable thing of all: Tucker Freeman, our MC treasurer, all around Grandfather MC, and apparently a former preacher man—was Rayce’s real dad.
How was that for a happy frigging ending?
Tail looped his long black hair behind his ears, jumped onto the edge of a pool table—abusing the very altar he worshipped at—and hollered, “Drinks for the happy couple on me!”
“Whose pocket’s that really comin’ out of?” Brodie Steele, Boomer’s younger brother, yelled through hands he cupped around his mouth.
“Whoever wants up next.” Tail slapped his pool cue against the palm of his hand. “C’mon. Place your bets, losers.”
The barroom—a color dubbed Whore Red by Tail, who’d taken it upon himself to repaint the place—was one big commotion of men and women dancing, drinks pounded back, music bashing from the speakers, and pool balls knocking on the maroon tables.
I shook Boomer’s hand as soon as I waded my way toward him and Rayce.
I couldn’t hear his muffled words above the chaos, but it didn’t matter. Our hands clasped in a firm grip before I turned to beautiful Rayce—she of the smart mouth, the sassy black hair streaked by jolts of electric blue, and the desperate past finally shrugged off.
I knew something about that myself.
I gave her my congratulations, not only on her marriage but also her second place finish in the US Nationals Women’s MX event.
Racing.
Hell yeah.
Knew something about that, too. Most of it had landed me in a fuckload of trouble, but the rush of high-octane speed in my sick slick Chevy Nova with the souped-up blower sure as fuck had been worth it.
Almost.
At the time, anyway.
I moved just far enough away to watch Brodie grin at Boomer before shooting off some sarcastic comment Boom instantly rolled his eyes at.
Goddamn but those two were a shitshow and a half. Full of love and laughs. Been through the worst, now they were at their best.
Me? I was just lucky Boomer—the prez—and Brodie, my best bud and the club’s veep—had taken me in. That was what they did, the Steele family, their little sis, Cat, included. Those Steeles were all hooked up now, although it was a standing MC joke Brodie still hadn’t sealed the deal with his fiancée, Detective Ashe Kingston—too many months pregnant to keep track of anymore, badass as all get out, former single mom, and . . . uh . . . my arresting officer on more than one occasion.
Yeah. We’d all been drawn together by the family Steele. Folks who had no right mingling. Ex-cons, lost souls, wanderers, and the Retribution family was growing everyday.
Case in point was Bo Maverick. The latest member. A Marine suffering from PTSD after returning stateside. Then there was Kinkaid, the ex-male-stripper. And Hunter, who’d worked some kind of deep cover ops he never spoke about.