Taming Bull: A Friends to Lovers Military MC Romance (Dead Presidents MC Book 9) Read online

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2020 by Harley Stone

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the authors, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Taming Bull is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Also by Harley Stone

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  This one’s for the readers who never let me give up.

  You know who you are.

  Thank you!

  Prologue

  Lily

  MY COMMON SENSE rebelled the instant I sat in the passenger’s seat of the shiny black Jag. My fight or flight instincts cranked up to a hundred and I forced myself to focus on breathing, not reaching for the handle to hurl myself out of the car. I was in danger, and I’d survived this long by hiding. Now, I’d agreed to testify against my attacker, drawing a gigantic target on my forehead. What the hell was I thinking? Sure, a motorcycle club of military veterans had offered me their protection—which was why I’d agreed to this insanity in the first place—but I didn’t know them and could easily be taking a luxurious drive from the proverbial frying pan into the fire.

  At least I’d arrive in style. Wearing baggy sweats, a T-shirt, and worn old sneakers, I settled into the Jag’s plush interior and buckled my seatbelt as thoughts continued to race through my mind. There’d be a trial. I’d have to testify. He’d be there, watching as I told the world what he’d done to me.

  Emily, the well-dressed, confident lawyer who’d talked me into coming out of hiding to confront the bastard, slid behind the wheel and gave me a bolstering smile. “You’re doing the right thing, Lily. Havoc is a good guy, and he doesn’t deserve to be locked up for helping you.”

  Emily was phenomenal at her job. She’d balanced out the guilt and fear, making it sound like she stood firmly in camp Lily and her priority was to keep me safe and seek justice for my attacker. But she was being paid to be team Havoc. I needed to keep that in mind during all her talks and make sure her loyalty to her employers didn’t leave my broke ass hanging out in the cold.

  Havoc.

  Thoughts of my rescuer invaded. Until Emily showed up on the doorstep of the shelter I’d been staying at with her song and dance, I didn’t even think my rescuer was human. The night of the attack, he looked like an avenging angel, cloaked in shadow, his eyes glowing with fire and fury as he ripped my attacker off me, flung him to the side, and then proceeded to beat the shit out of him.

  But it turned out Havoc was human after all. Human and in jail for attempted murder. He’d played the role of good Samaritan and proven the old adage that no good deed goes unpunished. I couldn’t let him rot in jail for helping me, not when it was within my power to help him. Not when the world had such a shortage on good guys.

  Emily parked in front of an old fire station and faced me. “You’re very brave for doing this.”

  I didn’t feel brave; I felt backed into a corner. If I didn’t stand up for the man who’d helped me, I’d never be able to look myself in the mirror again. I was still figuring out this fucked up mess called life and there weren’t many rules I followed, but I’d seen karma work itself out enough to fear its backlash. I wasn’t acting out of bravery, but rather cowardice. My life already sucked ass. I didn’t need karma out to get me.

  I grabbed my bags from the backseat and followed Emily into the old fire station. A blond biker named Wasp joined us at the door. “This all you brought with you?” he asked, eyeing the duffle bag in my hand and the backpack slung over my shoulder.

  This was all I had in the entire world. I had no idea how long I’d have to stay with the Dead Presidents, and anything left behind at the shelter would have disappeared before I returned. And it’s not like I was rolling in resources to replace my shit. “Yeah. This is it.”

  Wasp held out a hand. “Hand it over. I’ll carry it up for you.”

  He didn’t come across as the thieving type, but I liked to keep my stuff close. Tightening my grip on my bags, I replied, “Thanks, but I got it.”

  He shrugged and followed us. A few bikers were milling about, and they greeted us as we marched through a huge open area full of sofas and televisions to a staircase. On the second floor, Wasp pointed out the women’s locker style restroom before leading me to a door. “I’m gonna put you up next door to Candice,” he said.

  I had no idea who Candice was, but before I could ask, Wasp opened a door and gestured us inside. Then he knocked on the next door.

  “You’re staying here tonight, right?” I asked Emily, mentally cursing the slight quaver in my voice, as she swept me into the room. The small space offered a queen-sized bed, a dresser, and a small closet. It was clean and warm, and I’d be comfortable here as soon as Emily reassured me she wasn’t about to lock me in and abandon me.

  “Yes. I’ll be on the third floor.”

  “Promise you won’t leave?”

  She met my gaze. “I have to leave to get an overnight bag, but I’ll be back. Let’s exchange numbers so you can find me if you need me.”

  Emily’s phone was some high-tech looking device with a cute protective case. Mine was a dented old piece of shit I had on a prepaid plan in case my boss needed to get in touch with me to work extra shifts. As a part-time employee struggling to keep my phone on and my belly full, I needed all the hours I could get.

  My phone chimed with her incoming text, and I saved her contact information as I wandered over and sat on the bed. The mattress was firm, but comfortable, a huge improvement to the shelter’s bunk bed I’d been tossing and turning on for the past few nights.

  Wasp entered with another short brunette and a dog. “Emily, Lily, this is Candice.” Facing the brunette, he added, “Emily’s the lawyer I told you about. She’ll probably need to get with you soon and take your statement.”

  “Okay.” The brunette smiled. “Whenever you’re ready. Not like I have a lot going on right now.”

  Emily looked confused. “Wasp and I need to talk, and I need to grab my overnight bag. I’ll check on you both when I get back.” She hooked her arm in Wasp’s and towed him toward the door.

  Before I could respond, they were out the door. Just like that, she left me. In a place full of big scary bikers, no less. My heart started racing and it felt like the room was closing in on me. The dog walked right in and put his head on my lap, staring up at me like I was the most important person he’d
ever met.

  “That’s Boots.” Candice followed the dog and patted his back. “He’s pretty much the best guy on the planet.”

  Boots appeared to be some sort of German shepherd mix, grey with spots of black and white. “Does the door lock?” I blurted out.

  Candice watched me like I might grab the dog and run, which, I was considering. “Yeah. The key’s on the dresser.” She pointed and I looked and confirmed she was right.

  My pulse slowed as I absently stroked Boots’s fur and watched Candice, wondering what her deal was. “Do you live here? With the bikers?”

  She shook her head. “No. Noah Kinlan attacked me, too. I’m here to testify, just like you.”

  Ah. She was one of the “others” Emily had mentioned. “When?” I asked.

  She gave me a blank look. “The trial starts in a few days, but I’m not sure when I’ll be called to testify.”

  Shaking my head, I tried again. “No. When did he attack you?”

  “A few years ago.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “No. I was going to U-dub, and he attacked me on my way to class. I’d seen him around campus, but I didn’t know him.”

  I’d been on my way home from work when Noah had grabbed me. I didn’t even see him. “Did you report it?” The question came out packed with anger and indignation, sounding a lot like an accusation. For the life of me, I didn’t know why. Candice was a victim. I shouldn’t be upset with her, but I was. If she was attacked years ago, it was her duty to report it and put the bastard behind bars. He never would have gotten to me if she’d done her duty.

  “Yes. Actually, I did.” She pulled herself up to the full height of her five-foot nothing frame and stared me down. Short and thin, with brown hair that fell past her shoulders, we looked like we could be related. Were we Noah’s type? Did he have other victims out there who looked like us? “Well, I tried, at least.” She visibly wilted and puffed out a breath. “People came after me. Lawyers. Associates. Reporters. Friends of the Mayor. They threatened, and I was stressed and scared. My grades started slipping and a couple of the professors singled me out. I lost a big scholarship for a bullshit reason and had to drop out. Yeah, I reported him, and it cost me my degree. Did you report him?”

  My stomach bottomed out as I realized I wasn’t so much angry with Candice, but at myself. “No. I…” I ran. I hid. I hadn’t even thought of the women Noah would attack after me.

  I’m a fucking hypocrite.

  Her expression softened. “It’s okay. Probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway.” When her gaze met mine again, there was steel and determination behind it. “But now, it’s different. We’re gonna take this fucker down, and make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone ever again.”

  Now that was a plan I could get behind. I nodded, feeling emboldened by the conviction in her voice. Maybe we could win a fight against the mayor’s son after all. And if not, it wasn’t like I had anything to lose. I had no college scholarships or family at risk. Hell, I didn’t even have a car or a permanent residence. I barely had a job.

  “I should probably go and let you get settled. There’s a huge fully stocked kitchen downstairs if you get hungry or thirsty. I’m right next door if you have any questions or need anything.” Candice walked toward the door. Her gaze snagged on the dog still staring at me like I hung the moon, the stars, and all his treats, and I half expected her to call him away. Instead, she leveled a stern look at him. “Boots, watch over Lily.”

  “Thank you,” I said, more relieved than I would care to admit. There was something about dogs that takes away the lonely and makes a person feel protected and loved. I needed that now. Desperately.

  She nodded. “The Dead Presidents are good guys. You’re safe here.”

  Safe.

  The word bounced around in my head like some foreign language I couldn’t quite grasp. ‘Safe’ could have easily been a territory on Jupiter for all I knew about it. I hefted my bags onto the bed and glanced at the dresser, knowing I should put my clothes away, but wanting the mobility of leaving them in my bags. If shit went south and I had to bail again, I’d be glad I stayed packed. Besides, I wasn’t one to get too attached to luxuries like a dresser and my own space. That stuff never lasted long.

  The room was quiet and relaxing, and exhaustion weighed heavy on each and every cell in my body. When was the last time I’d had a decent night’s sleep? Before the attack sometime. I was tempted to snuggle up with Boots right there and then, but breakouts and cavities were real, so I rummaged through my bags until I located my toiletries. Then I headed for the door with Boots hot on my heels.

  This was my first time visiting a biker club. For some reason, I’d expected blaring rock music and wild orgies, but the place seemed calmer than the shelter. No girls were arguing over the bathroom, nobody was talking loudly on the phone in the next room. The hum of conversation and sounds of a game on the television were the only noises drifting up from downstairs. Interesting. I slipped through the door.

  A dark-haired biker was leaning against the wall in front of my room. Surprised by his presence, I pulled up short and checked him out. With hair a little on the shaggy side, a toned body, and a strong jaw line, he appeared to be about my age and on the fiery side of smoldering. I’d seen him before. When I’d made the trek to Emily’s Jag, he’d been waiting by his bike, watching me like I was a curiosity. He stared at me like that now. His intense, steel gray eyes churned with emotion. I was certain we hadn’t been introduced, but he looked at me like my presence physically hurt him. But he didn’t look away.

  He was the one loitering outside my room. I’d done nothing to him and didn’t deserve that look. “Wasp and Emily said I could stay here,” I informed him.

  He sucked down a breath and dropped his gaze. I got the feeling he could no longer stand to look at me. “I know.” His voice was deep and raspy with a slight southern drawl.

  “Then…” I glanced back at my door. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “No ma’am.”

  Seconds ticked by. His gaze jumped around. My shoulder. The wall. His hand. My bare feet. He wasn’t leaving, but he wouldn’t even look at me. That pissed me off. I marched back into my room, grabbed the key from on top of the dresser, and locked the door before marching past him and down the hall. Once my teeth were brushed and my face was washed, Boots and I wandered back to my room. The hot weirdo was still standing beside my door. This time, as I approached, he pushed off the wall and intercepted me.

  “It’s not your fault,” he said.

  Confused, I asked, “What isn’t?”

  “What that piece of sh...” His jaw ticked and anger narrowed his eyes, still staring at my shoulder. “What Noah Kinlan did to you. It’s not your fault.” He bit off each word like they tasted foul.

  “I know.” And I did know. But when nights were too quiet and my brain was too loud, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something I could have done to prevent what happened. I wanted to go back in time and take a different route home. Or cut off my hair and dress like a dude, or knee him in the balls or something. I hated feeling helpless, and Noah had made me feel so damn helpless I disgusted myself.

  Finally, the biker looked at me again. “I mean it, Lily. It’s not your fault.”

  “I didn’t provoke him. I wasn’t wearing revealing clothes. I didn’t flirt. I’ve never even seen the asshole before he jumped me.” Something inside me snapped. The fear and anger I’d felt that night came flooding back and I wanted to explode. I hadn’t done anything wrong, yet that bastard had still targeted me. “He was bigger. Stronger. His hands…” His hands had been everywhere at once. I couldn’t move fast enough to block him. His weight had crushed me against the wooden picnic table bench. I couldn’t move him, couldn’t wiggle out from beneath him. I shuddered at the memory. “I tried to fight him off, but I couldn’t. There was nothing I could do.”

  The biker’s expression softened, and his hands landed on my s
houlders, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I know. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry. Don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

  I didn’t even realize my eyes were leaking until his rough fingertips wiped the moisture from my cheeks. He pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me. My face landed on his chest. He was warm and solid, and he smelled like rain and sandalwood. I didn’t even know his name and he looked at me like I hurt him, but he felt safe. I breathed him in as the tears kept streaming down my cheeks. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d allowed myself to cry, and now that the waterworks had started, I couldn’t find the valve to shut them off.

  “I’m so sorry,” the biker muttered. “I should have been there, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

  Um, there was no reason this biker I’d just met should have protected me. I didn’t know what to say. He was having some kind of moment, and I was confused as hell. While I was still trying to figure out how I should react, he pushed me away from his chest and held me at an arm’s length, studying my face.

  “You don’t fucking give up, you hear me?” he demanded, his eyes blazing.

  The anger and passion in his tone knocked me sideways and caused goosebumps to rise across the exposed flesh of my arms. The way he said ‘give up’ made it sound final. Fatal. Was he worried I’d take my own life? I wasn’t suicidal. In fact, I had one hell of a strong survival instinct. It had gotten me away from my family and landed me in a shelter where I’d been steadily pulling myself up by my own goddamn bootstraps.

  I didn’t give up, I hid.

  And now, I was going to fight.

  I’d see Noah Kinlan in court, and I’d point him out and tell the world what that bastard had done to me. Then I’d get on with my life.