Sven's Ride (A Bad Boy MC Romance)
Table of Contents
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
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Epilogue
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
Sven’s Ride
Sara Crest
Curved Mountain Books
Contents
Copyright
Connect with me!
Author Note: PLEASE READ
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Epilogue
Don’t Forget To Connect
She’s Mine(Preview)
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
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Copyright © 2017 by Sara Crest and Curved Mountain Books
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Chapter One
(Sven)
Figures that Saul would leave me to do the dirty work, guess if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself.
My target was down the road, standing next to his bike with a revolver pointed straight at me. Unfortunately for him he already used up all 6 of his shots when he pulled over, firing wildly in my general direction hoping to scare me off. If only he knew how many times I’ve done this before.
He was still pulling the trigger, dry firing the gun while aiming straight at me. With each pull an audible ‘click’ rang out down the road, reminding me again and again that this dumbass was totally and completely spent. He didn’t realize though, when you’re that high on crystal all you know is that the gun in your hand is supposed to go bang and the guy on the other end is supposed to drop. Maybe if he wasn’t so busy getting high on his own supply his aim would have been better and I would have been a dead man, yet here we are.
I revved my bike up, the noise snapped him out of his trigger pulling stupor and he tossed the gun to the side of the road in frustration.
He got back on his bike and turned it to face me, revving his engine right back at me. Even from this far away in the evening light I could see the crazed look in his eyes, he was challenging me.
His funeral.
I hit the throttle of my bike, watching my speedometer go from 0 to 70 in virtually no time as it continued to climb. I looked ahead to see the jackass speeding right at me as we got closer and closer to collision.
I never played chicken with a meth head before, in my experience they don’t feel fear after they’ve smoked, guess I was about to find out how high this guy really was.
I gripped my handlebar tighter as we really started to close in on each other, the wind blowing through my hair, the howling of the engine in my ear, the sweat on my grip. This could very well be the last time I ever enjoyed it all. This fucker was just not backing down. I’ve never given up a game of chicken and I wasn’t going to start now, either he pulls away or we’re both done.
I could hear his screams as we were just seconds away from colliding. Part of me wanted it to happen, for us to collide head first into each other and have our bodies soar through the air before crashing down on the pavement. To take my last breath looking up at that blue New England sky and think about all I’ve done.
How long have I been doing this for my brotherhood? I knew I would die giving my life the the Freedom Riders so why not just get it over with and do it right now? Sad thing is if I had to do it all over I’d make the same choices again.
When I was close enough to see the whites in his eyes he cried out in frustration, pulling a hard right only to fall off his bike and skid across the pavement as his ride fell to its side and swerved off
the road.
I closed my eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath, every time you win at this game it’s like a second chance at life. At least it is when you go in with no intention of pulling away.
I slowed my bike down and pulled a U turn, watching my target writhe on the pavement. I pulled up beside him and looked at his torn up clothes, his bruises didn’t look too bad considering how fast we were going. Not that it would matter for him anyway.
“I-I need a hospital” he sputtered out, coughing a few drops of blood onto the pavement.
“Those broken bones are the least of your worries right now” I said taking a roll of duct tape out of my bike bag and tying his arms and legs.
“I didn’t do anything to you, what the fuck do you want me for?” he said looking up at me absolutely mortified.
I ripped off another piece of duct tape, putting it over his mouth, I really wasn’t in the mood to talk to this guy. He knows who he’s associated with, he had a choice to make and he chose the side that was against us.
You’d think some people would know better.
Chapter Two
(Sven)
I picked the guy up by the back of his belt, lifting him off of my bike and throwing him onto the dirt below. He was a bitch to tie up, not to mention I had to carry him out here on the back of my motorcycle. Do you know how hard it is to make sure someone struggling on the back of your ride doesn’t fall off? I should have just interrogated him while I had him lying on the pavement.
“You know Saul you always do find the best places to do this kind of stuff. Just look at that view.”
We were on a cliff jutting out of a small mountain, overlooking a small town nestled in the mountain’s valley. We had been stuck in the town for weeks and I was really starting to get antsy, I was hoping this guy I nearly died in order to get would lead us closer to where we had to be.
Saul reached down and ripped off the duct tape I had put on over the guy’s mouth.
“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!” he cried out as soon as the duct tape came off. Had a lot of boom in him for a man that nearly died just a few minutes before.
“Calm down there bud we’re the only ones out here, nobody is gonna hear you” Saul said annoyed.
I hated when they cried out like that, doing stuff like this never got any easier and it certainly didn’t help when your target started blubbering and begging like a child. What, do you want me to say I was a cold killer? Yeah it was my job but I didn’t take any enjoyment out of it, I did it for the MC. Nothing more, nothing less.
I reached down and put my gun in his mouth, 8 times out of 10 it worked. Chances are if it didn’t then we weren’t going to get anything out of the bastard.
“Look buddy” I said. “We can all walk out of here right now if you tell us where the main lab is. All we want to do is have a little talk with your head cook and we’ll be on our way.”
He mumbled something short and quick out of the barrel of my gun but I didn’t catch it. Maybe it was the name of his cook.
“What was that?” I asked sliding the barrel out of his mouth.
“I said FUCK YOU!”
“Of course you did… I think he might be high on his own supply Saul, I don’t think we’re gonna get anything out of this one.”
“Well, the MC told us what to do. I’ve been looking around this place since we came into town and it doesn’t look like people come here, if we get rid of him here nobody will find him until we’re long gone.”
I put my pistol away, I had enough for the day and I really didn’t feel like putting another life on my conscious. You’d think doing something like this would get easier but each time I did it I could just feel it weighing me down. I didn’t want to leave the club but I definitely wanted them to give me something else to do other than this.
“Oh so you want me to get this one?” Saul said as he noticed me putting my gun away. He leaned down and put the duct tape back on our target to muffle his cries and obscenities. It made me feel a little better about this whole situation.
“Saul I don’t even want to see you doing it. I’ll meet you down at the bar I got some stuff I got to think about.”
“You just want me out of the picture to get some local girl to hop on your cock Swede boy.”
“You know as well as I do that I’ve turned down every girl that’s talked to me since we got here. There’s more to a girl than how good she can ride Sauly, maybe when you’re my age you’ll realize that.”
“You’re only 2 years older than me you crazy bastard” Saul replied.
“Those 2 years make a difference, you’ll see.”
I started up my bike and revved my engine, hearing it roar across the mountain side.
I turned it around and sped down the dirt road, leaving Saul to finish off our target in whatever way he saw fit. Something that I already wanted to get out of my head. Part of me wished that we could just let these guys go, but I knew that would come back and bite us in the ass.
As the trees whipped by me all I could think about was how I just wanted to sit down and have a good drink. A drink to wash away the thought of what was about to happen to that sorry son of a bitch, a drink to help me forget about all the other men who have died by my hands, all in the name of the Freedom Riders MC.
Even if everything I did was for the Club I couldn’t shake the intrusive thoughts out of my head. I couldn’t forget the faces of the men whose lives came to an abrupt end because of me. I loved my Club, I’d die for the Freedom Riders, but that didn’t mean that I hated what I did for them.
I tried to clear my mind, put myself in a more meditative state, but the gunshot that echoed across the mountain quickly brought me back down to reality.
Who am I kidding with that bullshit I told Saul, I need a good ride. A girl that knows how to work those hips could make you forget all your troubles, if only for a few hours.
All I could think about was all the girls I had turned down since I got into this town. Maybe I could find one that I turned down back at the bar, give her the fun that she wanted.
I did get a kick out of turning them down though, sometimes they’d even make a scene. “Oh what you think you’re better than me?” or “wow what are you some kind of queer? You should be begging for a piece of this!” On the better nights they’d tire out and leave once they realized that throwing empty insults at me isn’t the best way to get my cock in them or to get their dignity back. On the bad nights some guy, some white knight acting soft boy, would come and confront me thinking that I just disrespected this girl mouthing off in front of me.
I may have never acquired the stomach for killing, but you better believe that if you’re a man who confronts me that you’d have your face on the alcohol soaked bar floor in a matter of seconds. I guess trouble just likes to follow me around like that.
Tonight would be different though, I’d actually fuck one of these small town girls and for the night I’d forget about all the bullshit that’s going on around me.
“A strong drink and a good ride, that’s all I need right now.”
Chapter Three
(Emma)
I couldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe that after everything that I worked so hard for I was back in this town.
I sat by myself in a booth at one of the town’s few bars, reading my old diary, the one I used from the time I was 11 until I left for college back when I was 18. I was hoping that a combination of alcohol and reading my own old dreams would give me the fake courage I needed to actually make a plan and get back out of this town.
I flipped through all the pages, I really didn’t use it to write much, just when I absolutely needed to get something out. I never actually knew if having a diary was healthy or not but I did know that it was much cheaper than the therapy my parents wouldn’t pay for. I don’t really think I needed it anyway, it was just that being a teenager always came with problems that nobody wanted to go through.
As I looked back through all the pages
and I read all my hopes and dreams I knew that I had to find a way to get back out of here as soon as possible. Hell when I read pages that I had written back when I was 14 I could see that I had ambitions far bigger than this place.
I had just gotten back home after finishing my college degree down in Atlanta, I wanted to get into news reporting. I had an internship lined up and then they had to cancel on me due to budget cuts. After nearly a year of floundering around the city trying to chase my dream I was right back here.
To think I came that close, that internship would have opened all the doors I needed. I felt like Icarus, I flew too close to the sun and then came crashing right back down to Earth, I just wish that I crashed in a spot other than rural Vermont. Now I was stuck in my mom’s house living with her and my 18 year old half sister Milly who was still in highschool. I know you’re not supposed to have your life figured out when you’re 24 but still I just felt so stagnated.
I took a drink and looked through more of my diary, skipping past the pages I marked with red permanent marker. Those were the pages I never wanted to go back to, those were the pages I wrote about John.
No John wasn’t an ex boyfriend, he wasn’t a crush I had in highschool or even a weird guy who stalked me. John was my stepfather, and thankfully he was out of my life.
I washed the thought of him out of my mind with another sip of my drink, what I’d give for his memory to be wiped out of my brain permanently. I would have ripped those red pages out, in fact I did rip out a few of them, but every time I ripped one out it felt like I was ridding him of his guilt. I wanted to make sure there was always a record of the what he said and the things he did.
The bar was mostly empty, meaning that I could sit here and think in peace. Part of me thought I just needed to actually make a connection with someone back in town, the only person I ever really talked to since I got back were my mom and my half sister. My old friends didn’t want a whole lot to do with me anymore, can’t say I blame them, we’re all different than we were when we were in high school.