Smoke and Mirrors: A Demented Sons MC Texas Novel Read online

  SMOKE AND MIRRORS, 1st Edition Copyright 2020 by Kristine Allen, Demented Sons Publishing.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Published in the United States of America. First published in January, 2020.

  Cover Design: Clarise Tan, CT Cover Creations, www.ctcovercreations.com

  Photographer: Albert Martinez

  Cover Model: Michael Thomas

  Editing: Olivia Ventura, Hot Tree Editing, www.hottreeediting.com

  The purchase of this e-book, or book, allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. This does not include the right to resell, distribute, print or transfer this book, in whole or in part to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. For information, contact the author at [email protected]. Thank you for supporting this author and her rights.

  Warning: This book may contain offensive language, violence, adult and sexual situations. Mature audiences only, 18+ years of age.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Kristine Allen

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  To Tayler. My little Tater-Tot. I’m so proud of the woman you’ve grown up to be.

  age eighteen

  “Dammit!” Fighting to get the car off the road to the shoulder, I experienced a moment of desolation. It was another rock on the mountain of responsibility sitting on my shoulders. Once we got to the edge of the busy Texas highway, I rested my head on the steering wheel.

  “What’s wrong, Gray?” Anna asked. Worry was written all over her young face. Guilt weighed heavy in my heart at the life I’d handed her. We were only kids ourselves, forced to grow up because we’d decided to make grown-up decisions. I’d joined the army to support us, but things were tight.

  “Pretty sure we have a flat tire.”

  She buried her face in her hands. She knew how much money we had as well as I did.

  Twelve bucks.

  Twelve bucks to last us two weeks until I got my next check. Not to mention, I was heading out to the field next week. I’d be leaving her without a reliable vehicle.

  Fuck.

  At least we’d paid all of our bills and bought groceries. Hopefully Mattie would have enough diapers to last until payday. If not, we had a package of cloth ones my grandmother had bought us. The problem was, neither of us knew the first thing about how to use them.

  A new tire wasn’t in the budget.

  “It’s going to be okay, Anna.” Empty promises were what I had for her, spoken in a voice that was way more optimistic than I really was. “Stay here with Mattie. I’m going to go change the tire and we’ll get home.”

  It would be nice if I could finally get on-post housing so we could keep it nice and cool in the house during the hellacious Texas summer. Speaking of, I rolled the windows down and shut the car off.

  “It’s gonna get hot. I’m sorry, babe.”

  “It’s okay.” Her soft hazel eyes searched my face for something I didn’t grasp.

  With a huff, I popped the trunk, checked the mirror, and got out when I had an opening. Cars zoomed by, sending a blistering-hot gust of air at me with each passing. The force of the vehicles shook our little Honda like it was a soda can.

  Lifting the stained carpet, I pulled out the little donut spare. The shitty jack was next, and I lugged them to the driver side. I barely had room to change the tire between the car and traffic. It made me a little nervous, but I sucked it up.

  I’d gotten the old tire off and was tightening the lug nuts on the spare when pale hands grabbed the flat and started to roll it to the back.

  “Dammit, Anna, I told you to stay in the car. I’m almost done. Don’t you dare lift that tire.” She’d had a fucking kid three days before. She wasn’t supposed to be lifting heavy shit.

  Her beautiful grin as she turned her head to me took my breath away. No different than it had when she was fourteen. She’d walked into the class I was retaking because I’d been stubborn the year before, and I was a goner.

  The wind blew her reddish blonde hair across her face, and she reached up to push it out of the way. A truck passed, blowing her off balance, and she stumbled.

  Like I was watching a horrible movie, I saw her wobble before she fell back a step.

  Everything happened in slow motion but with crystal clarity. The next truck was too close to the line. I reached for her, but I wasn’t fast enough. It was like being stuck in a nightmare.

  The truck plowed into her right in front of me. She didn’t even have time to look scared. One second she was there, the next she was forty feet down the road.

  “Noooooo!” I screamed. I chased the sound of screeching tires down the highway.

  It was the most gruesome thing I’d seen in my entire eighteen years.

  “No, Anna. Come on. Mattie and I need you, baby. Fuck.” As I lost my fucking mind over what was left of her and people crowded around, my head suddenly jerked up.

  Mattie was screaming in the car. “Mattie!” I shouted. Torn beyond belief, I glanced helplessly around. An older woman seemed to understand my dilemma. Her sun-bronzed, wrinkled hand rested on my shoulder.

  “Go get your bebé, hijo. There’s nothing you can do for her.” Her kind eyes were filled with sorrow as I gently laid my wife down and stood on shaking legs.

  Helplessly, I shook my head. “She was only seventeen years old,” I whispered to the woman. Tears filled her eyes as I took off at a sprint.

  Rushing to the car, I grabbed the passenger side door handle, leaving a bloody handprint on the door as I wrenched it open. Staring at the dark red that soaked my hands, I trembled. Tears coursed down my face as I scrubbed them on my jeans.

  They were far from clean, but I dug for the little green pacifier.
With how badly my hands were shaking, it took several attempts to get it in my baby girl’s mouth. She’d just latched on to it when a fireman crouched at my door, scaring the fucking shit out of me.

  “Sir, are you hurt?” he asked as he looked at the blood that covered me from head to toe.

  Dumbly, I stared at him. Did having my heart ripped out in the middle of El Paso, Texas, count as hurt? Because if so, I was dying.

  “Hell of a Year”—Parker McCollum

  “Dad! Have you seen my Vans?” Mattie yelled from her room.

  Rolling my eyes, I buttered her toast and set it on the plate with the eggs and bacon. “It wasn’t my day to babysit them!”

  The slap of her bare feet on the tiles carried down the hall. She stormed around the corner, and I dropped the knife.

  “What the actual fuck are you wearing? Oh, hell no. No way. About face and put some fucking clothes on! And while you’re at it, scrape some of that shit off your face!” I roared.

  “Daaad!” she whined. “There’s nothing wrong with what I’m wearing!”

  “Nothing wrong? Nothing wrong.” It came out deceptively calm. The corner of my eye started to twitch. My fists clenched, and I fought not to implode. My daughter was dressed like one of the girls that hung out at the club on non-family nights.

  “No, Dad. Everything I’m wearing is within the school dress code,” she argued.

  “I give a rat’s ass what the school policy is. Over my dead body is my daughter going out dressed like a fucking streetwalker!”

  “You’re being ridiculous. Look, my fingertips don’t go past my shorts.” She held her arms to her side and extended her fingers on both hands. Narrowing my eyes at her, I ground my teeth.

  The shorts barely made it to her fingertips, and I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but it looked like she was holding her shoulders up. Her light red hair looked more golden blonde than red, and as the early morning light filtered through the window behind her, my breath caught.

  Her defiant hazel eyes glared at me, and in that moment she looked like the spitting image of her mother. Which both hurt my heart and terrified me. Because her mother wasn’t much older than she was when she got pregnant with her.

  “Mattie. Please.” My usually gruff voice cracked a little, so I cleared my throat. “I’m too young to have a heart attack and I’m too fragile for prison.”

  She snorted. Mostly because she knew I’d hold my own no matter where I was, and partly because, simply put, she was a teenager.

  “I’m going to grow up one day. You can’t stop it. Look at me, I’m not a little girl anymore.” She spread her arms. My gaze traced her from head to toe and hated what I saw. Because she was right. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, and I had no idea where the time had gone—except too fast. This was her junior year of high school, for God’s sake.

  Dropping my head, I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Mattie, please. I’m not ready for you to grow up. Yeah, I know you’re going to, but give me this one thing. Please.”

  When I opened my eyes, she looked torn but still irritated. Without another word, she spun on her heel and stomped to her room. Her door slammed as my front door opened. Glancing over, I saw Styx walk in.

  Eyebrows raised, he craned his neck to look down the hall before continuing into the kitchen. He stole a piece of my toast as I carried both plates to the table. “Fucker, I’ve broke people’s fingers for that before.”

  Grinning, he took a big bite. After swallowing my damn toast, he sat across from Mattie’s plate. “Teen troubles?”

  “Fuck, you have no idea.” Wasting no time, I inhaled my food before the man I considered more than a club brother could take it. Twelve years in the army had taught me you eat when you could, and that hadn’t changed for me. “How’s Gwen?”

  He chuckled. “Preparing for the rug rats to invade.”

  “How’s her shoulder?” She’d had her second surgery over the summer after having one over spring break. Poor girl had been hurting so bad.

  “Doing a lot better. Doc said she should regain most of her range of motion as long as she stays consistent with her therapy.” He appeared serious, and I hoped he was right.

  “That’s good. I’m glad things are working out. You pop the question yet?” I grinned over the rim of my cup.

  His cheeks reddened. “No. I’m thinking about waiting until Galveston. Kind of like an anniversary type thing.” He shrugged.

  “You sappy fucker.” I laughed.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he mumbled, but the corner of his mouth betrayed his humor.

  Mattie returned, and to my relief she had on jeans and had scrubbed her face clean. “Hey, Uncle Styx,” she said quietly as she sat and began to eat. She ignored me.

  “Hello, young lady. You ready for your first day?”

  Her gaze flickered to me before going back to her plate. “Yeah,” she mumbled as she shrugged. The rest of breakfast was silent except for her silverware hitting the plate.

  Styx had gotten up to grab a cup of coffee and refilled my cup while he was at it. Still, it was quiet.

  “You need a ride to school? I can take you on the bike.” Reaching out with an olive branch, I waited to see if she’d take it.

  “Thanks, but Cheyenne is picking me up.”

  Frowning, I tipped my head back, looking down my nose at her with narrowed eyes. “When did she get her license?”

  Rolling her eyes like she didn’t think I could see, she sighed. “Dad, she got it last year. She’s got a late birthday so she’s older than me. Speaking of, when do you think we can go get my license?”

  “Depends on if you’re going to keep having that attitude with me.” I crossed my arms and stared her down.

  “Whatever,” she grumbled and stood with her plate.

  “Mattie,” I started, but she put her plate in the dishwasher and grabbed her backpack.

  “I gotta go. Cheyenne texted me to tell me she’s out front.” The only consolation I got was the quick peck to the side of my beard before she rushed out the door.

  “Fuck, I’m not ready for this. When she was two I remember thinking I couldn’t wait for her to be older and more self-sufficient. Now I wish I could go back and kick my own ass.”

  Styx chuckled. The door opened again, and a small part of me hoped she’d come back to tell me she loved me.

  “Hey P, Styx.” Truth walked in, followed by Lock.

  “Hey,” repeated Lock. Styx and I stood so we could greet them properly, then Truth and Lock grabbed a cup of coffee and we all sat at the table.

  “What’s with Mattie?” Lock asked, then laughed. “She didn’t seem too excited for school.”

  “Well, that’s because she’s sixteen going on twenty-six. Fucking hell, how did she get so old so fast?”

  Lock laughed, and I glared at him before pointing. “Laugh it up, motherfucker. Little Elvis is gonna be there before you know it. Then you’re gonna be worrying about every little fucker in the school sniffing after her. You’ll be worrying about going to jail every day like I do.”

  That sobered him.

  “Yeah. Not so funny, is it?” I got my first laugh of the morning at his expression. Even though I loved all my brothers, Lock reminded me so much of myself. When he’d asked about making the jump to our chapter, I’d understood immediately. He’d lost Presley’s mother unexpectedly too. I totally got the need to escape memories.

  Going to war when Mattie was only a baby was hard, but I’d needed to get the fuck out of Dodge. Every time I made the trip from our small trailer to post, I’d had to pass the spot where Anna had died. It was a nightmare every fucking day.

  My parents had been amazing and had raised Mattie for the fourteen months I’d been gone. It was the beginning of the war and things were bad over there. By the time I came home, I was ages older than when I’d left. That first rotation had been scary and intense. Between Anna’s death, everything I went through over there, and trying to be a dad t
o a toddler who didn’t remember me, I was a fucked-up mess.

  Thankfully, when I got back I was able to get on-post housing and could avoid that spot in the road. Problem was, I had new nightmares to haunt me.

  Shaking off the memories, I took another sip of coffee as the three of them chatted.

  “Well, those bikes aren’t going to finish themselves, boys. Y’all ready?” I asked as I went to put my cup in the dishwasher. They all followed suit, and we went out front. I set the alarm, trotted down the steps, and grabbed my helmet off my handlebar.

  “You coming to the shop, Styx?” Truth questioned as he tugged his helmet on.

  “For a little bit, then I’m bringing Gwen lunch,” Styx answered as he finished buckling his helmet strap.

  “Cool, cool,” Truth replied.

  Once I was ready and sitting on my seat, they all mounted up. We pissed off my asshole neighbors by racking our pipes as we pulled out of the driveway. Every one of us grinned as the poindexter fucker glared.

  It didn’t take long for us to reach the shop.

  The bike shop had been mine. I’d bought it after I’d decided to get out of the army and settle in one place. I’d had good intentions, but I’d been struggling. When Beaker, the old president, had brought his bike in to have some modification done, we’d struck up a friendship. It wasn’t long before I was a hang around and then a prospect.

  Other members of the club started bringing in their bikes and recommending me. Business picked up, but it was still tight. Mattie and I had been living in a fifth-wheel camper behind the shop because it was all I could swing.

  When I joined the club, Beaker had approached me with an offer to invest in the shop. It had seemed like a godsend. At that time, I was on the verge of losing everything because I couldn’t afford to get some of the equipment I desperately needed.

  I retained controlling interest, but the club would also have an interest. Thankfully, it panned out and became very profitable for us all. It wasn’t long before I had to hire more mechanics. One had been a club member—Clay.