Nasty Read online

  Nasty

  Trojans MC, Volume 2

  Claire St. Rose

  Published by eBook Publishing World, 2017.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  NASTY

  First edition. November 11, 2017.

  Copyright © 2017 Claire St. Rose.

  ISBN: 978-1386287858

  Written by Claire St. Rose.

  Also by Claire St. Rose

  Iron Reapers MC

  Heartless: A Bad Boy Baby Motorcycle Club Romance

  Merciless: A Bad Boy Baby Motorcycle Club Romance

  Ruthless: A Bad Boy Baby Motorcycle Club Romance

  Montorini Family Mafia

  Touch Me Bad Boy

  Tease Me Bad Boy

  Own Me Bad Boy

  Northern Hounds MC

  Take the Devil's Deal: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance

  Break the Devil's Deal: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance

  Seal the Devil's Deal: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance

  Steel Jockeys MC

  Vicious Night

  Vicious Touch

  Vicious Kiss

  The Hitman's Heart Trilogy

  Going Once, Taken Twice

  Wrecked Twice

  Three Times Owned

  Trojans MC

  Wicked

  Nasty

  Cruel

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By Claire St. Rose

  Nasty (Trojans MC, #2)

  NASTY: Trojans MC (Book 2)

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

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  Further Reading: Cruel

  Also By Claire St. Rose

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  http://eepurl.com/cGOp31

  NASTY: Trojans MC (Book 2)

  By Claire St. Rose

  SHE WANTED IN. BUT now that I have her, she’s never getting out.

  She didn’t belong in this world.

  But no way in hell am I letting her leave.

  Not until she’s wearing my ring. Not until she has my child.

  This town is mine and I take what I want. Nobody gets in my way.

  Especially not some nosy reporter looking for her big break.

  At first she was just another girl whose name I can’t remember.

  But that was before she left me so hard that it hurts.

  So hard that I needed release.

  She thinks she can just insert herself in my life.

  She doesn’t realize I’ve got a different insertion in mind for her.

  And now that she’s stepped into my world...

  There’s no way in hell I’m letting her leave.

  Not until she’s wearing my ring.

  Not until she has my child.

  Not until she's mine.

  Chapter 1

  Shayla practically lurched down Luke’s steps, digging her keys in her pocket and clutching them in a death grip.

  She should have known. Goddamnit, how could Shayla have been so stupid? She’d always prided herself on her investigative skills, but what kind of reporter missed a goddamn wedding ring? Had he always been wearing it?

  Obviously. He was probably that kind of dickhead—the kind who didn’t even bother to take it off. And he had probably congratulated himself the whole time he was wooing her. How hilarious he must have found it that he was able to trick her into thinking he actually cared, while he was wearing his wedding ring the whole time! The goddamn nerve of it.

  The sound of the door being wrenched open behind her only made her walk faster, her feet pounding against the pavement as she all but ran toward her car.

  “Shayla, wait!” Luke’s gravelly voice chased her into her driver’s seat, but she slammed the door and locked it despite his protests. “You don’t understand!”

  Oh, she understood enough. She understood that she had fallen into the same trap that every goddamn person in the city had when that news story about him and the dumbass kitten had aired. Tough biker guy with adorable kitten—how sweet! He must have a big, soft heart underneath all those tattoos and muscles.

  As. Fucking. If.

  Shayla wrenched her key in the ignition and thrust the car into reverse, backing out of the driveway without so much as sparing a glance at the burly man who’d followed her out. At least he wasn’t pounding against her window. That would have really been pathetic.

  What the hell was there to understand? That was what really pissed her off. Unless he was divorced, but his finger had swelled too much to remove his ring, and he had an appointment to have it cut off tomorrow, Shalya wasn’t interested. She wanted something real.

  She should have listened to her instincts when they told her she would never have that with Luke.

  Once she was zooming away down the street, the figure of Luke and his stupid house and stupid motorcycle disappearing in the rearview, Shayla let out a scream of frustration. A scream of mourning. Because she had liked Luke. She had felt something for him. Maybe it wasn’t love, but it had been the stirrings of something deep within her that had been dormant for a long time.

  And now it was over, because there was nothing else that she could or would do with him.

  Stupid. Goddamn. Men.

  Shayla was glad it only took her a few minutes to get home. She didn’t much feel like driving, unless it meant crashing her car into every motorcycle she saw. It was probably better for her to be off the roads. And, to top it all off, she hadn’t arranged to have him on the station like Amy wanted. Not that she wanted him to be there now, but she had enjoyed the prospect of having a one up on the others at the station. For a minute, Luke had seemed like her ticket out of her internship and into a proper career.

  Shayla wondered whether this hiccup would simply put her back to where she started, or if it would send her a step back, too. Who even knew with the idiots at her station.

  Shayla pulled into her driveway and stormed up the front steps, slamming the door behind her and locking herself inside the house. Nobody would find her here. At least not for another few hours, until she was expected at the station for work. She’d have to think up something to say to Amy in the meantime.

  Shayla walked toward her bedroom, intent on crawling under the covers and trying to forget about today. She pulled out her phone to set an alarm, and saw that she’d missed several calls from Anthony. That was curious. He never called her. And, to be honest, she had hoped he never would. He was a slimy snake covered in goo, and she wanted nothing to do with him. She just hoped—prayed—that it was work related.

  She checked her voicemail, and there was one new one. “Hey Shayla, this is Anthony Blake calling. Call me back. This is important.”

  That sounded work related, at least. Unless he considered booty calls to be important. Shayla tapped his name to call him back, continuing her walk to her bed. He picked up just as she had settled down under the duvet.

  “Anthony Blake speaking.”

  “Hey, it’s Shayla.”

  “Shayla, yes. Hi. Naomi will not be returning to the station this evening, and we want you to fill in on a trial basis until we can find a new anchor.”

  Straight to business, it would seem. Shayla stifled a gasp and pursed her lips. “What happened to Naomi? Is she okay?”

  Antho
ny let out an exasperated sigh. “She’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Make sure you’re at work a little early so we can have you properly made up. You looked too pale last time.”

  Shayla scowled. Trust him to make good news sound like awful news. Not only was she still worried about Naomi, but he’d insulted her too. Why had the station ever hired this idiot in the first place? Surely there had to be someone just as capable of reading the news as him in Templeton. Maybe some hobo on the street. Anything could be better than Anthony Blake’s smug face.

  “Well, thank you for the opportunity.” Shayla decided being grateful and polite would be a better response then telling him how she really felt. He’d been such a jerk to her last time, she really didn’t want to get on his nerves. It seemed like everything at the station went smoother if Anthony Blake was happy.

  Click.

  He’d hung up on her. What a jerk. Couldn’t even be bothered to waste his breath on a goodbye. Shayla wondered why Anthony wasn’t more upset about Naomi. They seemed like they were pretty close. Well, anytime Shayla had seen them together, Anthony looked to be doing his usual work of being the world’s biggest asshole, but he and Naomi spent a lot of time together. Naomi wasn’t an idiot, so if she didn’t want to be spending time with Anthony, then surely she wouldn’t have?

  Anyway, all that was a problem for later. Right now, Shayla was only concerned with getting into her bed and napping away the few hours she had until work. At least if she was asleep she wouldn’t have to deal with the pain in her gut that was cutting through her like a knife.

  Chapter 2

  Sweet serenity, however temporary, was only ever a bike ride away. And any windy absolution Luke received could only be temporary, because he had a helluva lot on his plate. Between a comatose teenager, a potential gang war, and a furious reporter, Luke had never been so busy. But he needed time to think. He needed space to think. He needed to think.

  He should have gone after her. Luke regretted not doing so as soon as her car disappeared from his sight. But what would he tell her? Would she even believe the truth if he did? He wasn’t sure he believed it himself.

  Luke grabbed his jacket and stomped down the front steps, slipping his arms into the sleeves and grabbing his helmet from the handlebar of the waiting Harley. He wished everything were as simple as this bike. It broke down sometimes, but with a little love and attention he could always make it run again.

  And it never looked at him like Shayla had—like scum of the earth. Just thinking about that made Luke’s face wrinkle and his guts churn. She deserved so much better than any of his shit, but he wanted her anyway. He wanted her in a fierce way that he didn’t quite understand, but wasn’t willing to give up. Not yet.

  Too bad he’d lost her.

  Angrily slamming his foot down on the starter, Luke let the engine rumble beneath him for a few seconds before he began to slide out of the driveway. The wind skimmed over his face, and he closed his eyes for just one second before he peeled out onto the road—just long enough to let out a long, angry sigh.

  Raven.

  Luke wrenched the handle forward and tore off. How did it always come back to that scheming bitch? All he wanted to do was live his life as a free man, the way he had believed he would be able to. But she and her deranged family seemed determined not to let him.

  Luke took an exit toward the highway, intent on losing himself on the wooded highway out of town. Maybe he could pretend that he wasn’t coming back, if only for a second. Too much rested on his presence in town, and he knew that he wouldn’t feel right again until he had somehow explained to Shayla that he wasn’t the complete asshole she thought him to be. Still, it was tempting.

  If Luke no longer belonged to Templeton, then he no longer belonged to Raven. And what a blessing that would be. When Raven, the daughter of the head of the Reapers MC, had first approached him about the marriage, Luke hadn’t been too enthusiastic about it. But he’d lost three of his guys just that month from the violence between the two gangs, and Christ if it didn’t seem poetic. They eloped, and returned a married couple—though they agreed to leave each other alone. It was a marriage in name alone. At least, it was supposed to be.

  She had been a firecracker of a girl. At first, Luke had actually considered pursuing her. It was an odd thing to think when she was technically his wife. She had long, inky black hair, just like her name implied. Her fierce gray eyes had seemed lit from behind with passion and intensity. It wasn’t long, though, before Luke had realized that light was only madness.

  The dappled shade of the trees flashed across Luke’s face, and he pressed further into his seat and ground his teeth. He should’ve known from the start with her. She had insisted that they consummate their wedding vows, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Why not? She was beautiful, and she was his wife. He’d made sketchier choices in the past.

  Except that from that moment on, Raven had owned him.

  Luke turned right toward the ocean, smelling the distant twang of salt in the air even before he could see it. There was no more beautiful place in the world to live in, that he was sure of. The mountains, the ocean, the trees—they all worked together to create a rugged wilderness that could be contained but never truly tamed. That was what Luke felt like with Raven.

  When Luke decided that he wanted to keep to the letter of the agreement—and not continue to see his wife romantically—she had been furious. But she, for all her crazy, was a woman of her word. She said that as long as he kept the ring on, Luke could continue to do as he liked.

  Too bad her brothers didn’t feel the same.

  Dax and Klyde were two of the toughest, meanest, dumbest sons of bitches that Luke had ever laid eyes on. In every way that Raven was refined and graceful, those two meatheads were equally ogrish and slow. They did everything together, which was good because Luke doubted that anyone else wanted to hang out with them. They were graced with top spots in the club hierarchy because of their father’s status, but Luke wondered how long that would last. Yet they continued to surprise him. Rather, the Reapers continued to surprise him. Because, no matter what, all the guys in the Reapers seemed to follow whatever Dax and Klyde said.

  Luke gritted his teeth as he remembered how the two idiots had showed up at the news station last night as he’d been leaving with Shayla. The goddamn nerve of them. He’d had to slip his wedding ring on in his pocket like a shady loser because their stoic display of dominance had been geared to remind him of his place, or rather the place they believed he should occupy. Dax and Klyde wanted him to be Raven’s husband in more than just name. The two meatheads wanted him to show her more respect. Probably to have a couple kids with her.

  As if he wanted to pass on that kind of crazy.

  A seagull crested over the horizon, and the smell of brine got stronger. The trees became sparser as he shot toward the edge of the forest, and Luke revved faster. The wind was doing nothing to take away his worries, like it normally did. Maybe if he didn’t have so goddamn many it would be a different story. He felt like an idiot for thinking that a bike ride would be enough to cool his head. He needed a distraction.

  In the distance, Luke saw beach grass swaying in the breeze. Behind that he knew there would be tumbling waters and an endless swathe of sandy beach. Enough beach to get lost on. For most people, at least. Unfortunately for Luke, there would never be enough beach for him to get lost.

  He swung his bike onto the gravel parallel to the beach, cutting the engine and kicking down the stand. He wouldn’t stay for long, so he didn’t even bother taking his helmet off. He was only here in the physical sense. In his head, this was one of the sandy beaches of Troy. In the distance, a thousand ships bobbed on the waves. But who was he? Was he fearless Achilles, hell bent on sucking the marrow from life before embracing the hand dealt to him by fate? Or was he Hector? Bound by duty to the vows he took and a cause he didn’t support?

  Luke let out a groan of frustration, gazing out to the horizon.
He felt like neither. Achilles brought a blight on his men because he didn’t get his way. When Agamemnon took away his prize, the woman Briseis, Achilles refused to fight—even though it caused others to suffer. Hector, on the other hand, fought despite knowing that he would end up sacrificed for his brother’s folly.

  So who was Luke? The passionate idealist or the resolute fighter? Or, was he dutiful Aeneas? Leaving behind the burning wreck of Troy to ensure the continued survival of his culture and people? Luke would hardly say his own struggle was divinely ordained, but there were parallels. Raven was Queen Dido. There was passion there, but Luke couldn’t stay with her. It was good for his people at first, but in the end it would lead only to the stagnation of his empire. He wasn’t sure how Shayla fit into all of that, but he knew at least that she belonged somewhere in the narrative. And Raven was meant to be left behind.

  Raven had made things quite difficult in that respect. Especially recently. She’d apparently decided that she no longer supported the idea of them living separately, and had started showing up when he was out with other women. She’d even threatened Danika once, which both Luke and Danika had found to be hilarious. But against Shayla? Raven could probably scare the shit out of her, if not crush her entirely.

  Raven was a problem. And, apparently, their marriage was no longer a buffer between the warring gangs. Luke remembered the girl in the hospital bed, sold drugs by one of Raven’s father’s men, in a territory that had been claimed for Trojan use only. That kind of impertinence foreshadowed a breakdown in harmony between Trojan MC and the Reapers MC. Would things revert back to how they were before the marriage? A veritable shit storm of blood and money?

  Luke needed a distraction. He took one last look at the ocean, internally offering a staunch farewell to the waiting Achaean ships. Being here would not help Luke. The time for contemplation and careful planning was over. Tried it. Didn’t work. Now was the time for action.