Bull (Reapers MC Book 7) Read online

  Bull

  Reapers MC Book Seven

  Elizabeth Knox

  Contents

  Available Now From

  Coming Soon From

  Playlist

  Acknowledgments

  Trigger Warning

  Billings, Montana Charter

  Las Vegas, Nevada Charter

  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

  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

  Epilogue

  Authors Note

  Follow Me On Social Media!

  Coming Up Next

  Available Now From

  Elizabeth Knox

  Series: Skulls Renegade

  Reign

  Redemption

  Revenge

  Relentless

  Reckoning

  Reclaimed

  Regret

  Reckless

  Reclusive

  Retribution

  First Generation: A Skulls Renegade MC Boxset

  Series: Steele Bros.

  Tough as Steele

  Stripping a Steele

  Protecting a Steele

  Series: Reapers MC

  Scarred

  Blackjack

  Here Kitty, Kitty

  Booger

  Widow

  Kade

  Hawk

  Series: Iron Vex MC

  Enraged

  Series: The Clans with Iris Sweetwater

  Promised

  The Trade

  Cherished

  Deceit

  Love is War

  Defiant

  Shattered

  Ruthless

  Sin City Fets with Linny Lawless & Aubree Valentine

  Switched

  Coming Soon From

  Elizabeth Knox

  Covert

  (The Clans #9)

  Cobra

  (Reapers MC #8)

  Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection

  Steele Her Heart

  (Steele Bros #4)

  Bet on Me

  (Royal Bastards MC: Baltimore Charter #1)

  Bull

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Bull. Copyright © 2019 by Elizabeth Knox. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews. For information contact E. Knox.

  https://www.facebook.com/elizabethknoxbooks

  Cover design: Clarise Tan, CT Cover Creations

  Editing: Kim Lubbers, Knox Publishing

  Proofreading: Jackie Ziegler, Knox Publishing

  Formatting: E.C. Land, Knox Publishing

  Photographer: Reggie Deanching, RplusM Photo

  Created with Vellum

  Playlist

  Lola — Iggy Azalea ft. Alice Chater

  Workin’ On It — Meghan Trainor

  BLOODMONEY — Poppy

  Push My Luck — The Chainsmokers

  Cool Anymore — Julia Michaels & Jordan Davis

  Big, Big Plans — Chris Lane

  Living Proof — Camila Cabello

  Tongue Tied — Marshmello ft. YUNGBLUD & Blackbear

  Mean It — Lauv ft. LANY

  Acknowledgments

  My Betas, Courtnay, E.C., Jai, Chas, Tania, Janet, Taneesha, Michaela, Laura, Kim, Isabelle & Lisa— Thank you guys for taking the time out of your days to read whatever madness I’m sending to y’all. Your reactions for this one have been absolutely insane, and trust me, my heart was pounding along with you in those intense moments. Love y’all!

  My Cover Designer, Clarise— We rock out every single cover we work on. I’m so excited this one is out into the world after months of being locked away on my computer. Thank you for your mad skills and amazing friendship!

  My Blogger Team— I say this time and time again, but I’ll never stop saying how much I appreciate y’all. Thank you for sticking with me, regardless of genre and supporting me in any way you can.

  My Editor, Kim— Thank you for stepping up and taking the massive workload I require from an editor. I appreciate your hard work so much. Bull is only the start for our editing projects, but it’s going to be an amazing journey!

  Golden— Thank you for your help with the cover. You helped me transform the character into Bull. He looks so badass!

  A.C., Rae, E.C., and Raven— You girls keep me accountable as hell. It’s hard as hell to find good friendships in this community and I’m lucky to have found you all. No matter what I know I can count on the four of you. We make a pretty kick ass team.

  For the ones who have been through Hell:

  Your darkest moments do not define you. Don’t ever let them. No matter what has happened to you, remember the ugliest moments of our lives shape us into stronger, more compassionate people. You might have gone through some messed up crap, but you’re a survivor and you’re strong as hell. Smile, babe. You deserve it.

  Trigger Warning

  This book is intended for mature audiences only. If darker books are not for you, please do not move forward. After re-adjusting my trigger warning system, I will not be giving any spoilers. Please understand that this is not your run of the mill romance and tough subjects will be spoken about in this storyline.

  Billings, Montana Charter

  Fist — Prez (on sabbatical)

  Cracker – VP (Deceased)

  Zane – Prez (interim)

  Blackjack – VP (interim) – Ol’ Lady – Ashley

  Children: Dex (Blackjack’s previous relationship) & Noelle

  Bull – Enforcer

  Grim – Sgt at Arms

  Tex – Full Patch – Ol’ Lady – Roxy

  Children: Kat

  Dracus – Full Patch – Ol’ Lady – Roxy

  Children: Nova

  Bolt – Full Patch – Ol’ Lady – Roxy

  Children: Jordyn

  Zorro – Full Patch

  Axel – Full Patch

  Hammer – Prospect

  Las Vegas, Nevada Charter

  Damon — Prez — Ol’ Lady — Kat

  Amara – VP

  Booger – Enforcer – Ol’ Lady — Camila

  Dixon – Sgt. At Arms

  Chaz – Full Patch

  Widow – Full Patch – Ol’ Lady – Tania (A Jackal)

  Children: Zoe (Widow’s previous relationship)

  Cobra – Full Patch

  Hawk – Full Patch — Ol’ Lady — Raven

  Kade – Full Patch – Ol’ Lady – Ivy

  Mouser – Prospect

  Prologue

  Tortured souls are the easiest to trust. They speak with their eyes and only if they must.

  CW Poet

  Alexa/Lola

  September . . .

  Wetness fills my m
outh and for a moment I believe it’s water, swallowing it down. Until I realize water doesn’t taste metallic. Opening my eyes, I try to look around the dark room I’ve been stuck in for . . . wait, I don’t know how long I’ve been here. After a point the days start to run together. Only a small sliver of light comes in under the door where the men enter the shed, and I lost count after sixteen. Who knows how long I’ve really been in this shithole?

  Aching pains run down my sides from where I’ve been kicked repeatedly. I’m sure my ivory skin has turned purple or blue from the impact of their steel toed boots. If only my sides weren’t hurting, I might be able to deal with this a little better. Unfortunately, I’m not that lucky. I’ve been many things throughout my thirty-six years, but I wouldn’t classify fortunate as one of them.

  I spit the blood that pools in my mouth out onto the concrete floor. It’s covered with some sort of hay or straw. It’s the only warmth I have in this shed, providing me with a bit of protection from the chilliness the concrete gets when the sun goes down. These people have yet to tell me why I was taken. I have my suspicions, but I’m not a stupid woman. I won’t give them an inch because they’ll take a mile if I give them the opportunity.

  I yank my hands down angrily, attempting to pull at the chains which tie my hands to a metal bar above my head. Outraged can’t even describe the type of wrath I feel. I did everything to change parts of my past. I spoke to the right people, found a way to change my name and escaped a hell I never thought I’d be free from.

  If anything, I assumed I’d be his next victim, so, twenty years ago I mustered up the courage to run and I got out of his sights. Sixteen, naïve and scared out of my mind I did what I thought would give me a chance at a normal life. Turns out, you can’t ever escape your past. One way or another it will come chasing you down.

  In this case, I’m not entirely sure what has chased me down. It doesn’t really matter who. They’re all cut from the same cloth. I refuse to speak to these bastards. I would rather get beat versus saying a word.

  There was a man who came in once before. He was older, with gray hair but that wasn’t what made me remember him. It was the deep lines across his face. Almost looking like scars but I don’t think they were. If I had to guess, I’d say those were from a rough life. It happened during the day, so I was able to see a leather vest sort of thing. Everyone who came in with him looked at him as though he was their boss. The men who come in here to hit, kick, beat and pry my teeth out with plyers are simply thugs.

  Even though I’m desperate for answers, I won’t get any from them.

  The old picket door to the shed comes flying open, “Wakey, wakey bitch.” One man tells me as he comes barreling in. For the first time since I’ve been here, there aren’t others that come with him. I recognize his voice, being one of the cruelest men I’ve ever come into contact with. He’s the one who snickered, cackled and laughed as I screamed when his buddy yanked three of my teeth out earlier today . . . or at least, I think it was today.

  He takes his steps in a rushed way, hands heading toward my arms. The clicking of metal tells me he has a key and he’s trying to get me out of these cuffs. Part of me wants to ask what’s going on, but I remain quiet. I haven’t talked to these guys since I’ve been here, why would I start now? Not like he’d respond anyway.

  The second my hands are free I drop to the floor on my knees. I’ve been chained up for far too long, my body is exhausted. My arms feel like numb logs attached to my body, while my legs burn from standing on them for so long.

  He grabs me by the back of my head, yanking my hair with his fingers until I’m somewhat standing. “You better fuckin’ walk, ignorant cunt. Make it quick.” Every part of his tone tells me something isn’t right and as I walk out the door of the shed, I see various figures running toward the other, some have guns while others have knives. It’s so bright, but my eyes adjust after a few moments.

  I see these figures are people, but as I look at what they’re wearing I see there’s a distinctive difference between the two. They both have leather vests on, but a couple have a skeleton in some sort of outfit with a weapon. I make out an angry bear on the back of the other vests and think I’m putting this together when I’m thrown to the ground.

  The cool metal of a gun is placed to my head and the man who freed me snarls in my face. “Listen up ‘cause I sure don’t feel like repeatin’ myself. If it were up to me, I’d put a bullet through your fuckin’ brain, but Prez don’t want that. Apparently, you’re useful to the club. The only use I see in you is for fuckin’ but even that’s a stretch with the way you reek.”

  Yeah, I only reek because I haven’t been able to shower. He places the same hand that was just on the back of my neck to the front of my throat and squeezes. As he does this, I see a glimmer flash across his eyes— he’s enjoying this.

  On his vest it reads Rascal, Vice President. Rascal’s grip tightens on my neck and pressure takes over me. No matter how hard I try to breathe, I can’t manage to get a breath in. Bringing my hands to his, I try to pull it off my neck but can’t get his grip to loosen. I just need to take in one breath, but I fear it’s too late as everything starts to get blurry.

  1

  And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul

  ~John Muir

  Bull

  Present Day

  It’s a new year and with it comes new trials and tribulations. Or at least, that’s my view on it. Hawk and Raven left with Frank about three weeks ago for their move to Vegas. It was sad to see him leave again, but we all knew it was the best decision for him. Even though I miss him, I’m beyond happy he found Raven.

  Hawk and I have an interesting friendship. We fight like cats and dogs but at the end of the day we’ll always be here for each other. He’s practically family, considering I barely have any left. He has his own issues even though his family is picture perfect from the outside. He grew up in the south somewhere if my memory is serving me correctly. One of the reasons we became such good friends is because his family had been avid enlisters in the United States Marine Corps.

  I even had my own time in the Marines, moving into Special Forces and gave this great country ten years of my life. From the point I was eighteen to twenty-eight I was a proud member of MARSOC, until my accident. After I spent a year going through a couple surgeries and intense physical therapy, not to mention mental and behavioral therapy as well. When I was right as rain I came back to Montana where I was born and raised, joining the Reapers MC.

  My Aunt saw how much I was struggling and recommended I reach out to Cracker, who also had his time in the Marines and was discharged after an injury. The day I met Cracker my entire life changed. I had lost all hope, motivation and drive until that conversation with him. He introduced me to Fist and within the year I was prospecting for the club. Now I’m thirty-four and here we are.

  January came too soon if you ask me. We all needed some fuckin’ time after the shit we went through. Hell, we all need a damn vacation. “Never seen you wear such a smug look,” Shiloh mutters, walking into the Monroe family kitchen. She’s one of the few clubwhores we have left, but the most prominent. If I were an outsider, I would take this girl for an ol’ lady. She’s classy as hell if you look at her from the outside, but man does she fuck like a slut. I would know. I’ve sunken my ship in her harbor quite a few times in the past. Not lately, though. Just haven’t been in the mood for company with all this grief floating around in the air.

  “Have a lot on my mind is all,” I comment back, digging my fork into the over easy eggs I made for breakfast. I take a bite and Shiloh puts a hand on her hips, cocks a brow and I suck in a deep breath knowing what’s coming.

  “You men are so good at deflecting, not wanting to talk about shit. It’s pretty damn frustrating if you ask me.”

  Rolling my eyes, I say the same thing I always do when Shiloh gets on this high and mighty talking is better bullshit, “How about we cut to the chase like we
always do? Hmm? What’s botherin’ you?”

  Shiloh takes a seat at the small kitchen island in Fist’s house, sighing dramatically. “Oh, thank goodness you asked. I couldn’t keep this in any longer!”

  Shiloh is one of those women who are creatures of habit. The type who you know are going to act in a certain way and you could write the shit that comes out of their mouths. Only, I can’t write this. “I’m the only one left now.”

  Squinting my eyes, I need more information. “What?”

  “I’m the only clubwhore left at this charter, Bull. Blossom got her ass kicked out and I’m the only one left. I feel . . . so out of place. Every other woman is either a Monroe or an ol’ lady and then here I am.”

  Shiloh steals a piece of my bacon before I can blink, causing me to grumble. “I’ve killed men for less.”

  “Yeah, and I’m sad . . . and hormonal and stuff.”