Scotch: Unraveled (Brimstone Lords MC Book 4) Read online

  Scotch

  Unraveled

  Brimstone Lords MC

  Book Four

  Sarah Zolton Arthur

  When the world goes mad

  Got you feelin’ bad…

  Hold on babe, I’m coming.

  When you’re feeling doubt

  That we can work things out…

  Hold on babe, I’m coming.

  The only words for you to heed

  Are the ones I’m speaking now

  I’m the only lover you’ll ever need

  On that you have my vow

  If the cold, dark night

  Ain’t got you feeling right

  Hold on babe, I’m coming.

  Through death and life

  Through pain and strife…

  Hold on babe, I’m coming.

  -Hold on Babe, I’m Coming

  Scotch Unraveled © 2019 Sarah Zolton

  Arthur and Irving House Press

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. 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 permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  First Print Edition: October 2019

  Irving House Press

  P.O. Box 5738

  Saginaw, MI. 48603

  See how Hero’s story goes in:

  Hero: Claimed (Brimstone Lords MC 5) coming soon…

  Bossman: Undone (Brimstone Lords MC 1)

  Duke: Redeemed (Brimstone Lords MC 2)

  Chaos: Calmed (Brimstone Lords MC 3)

  Scotch: Unraveled (Brimstone Lords MC 4)

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  Hero: Claimed (Brimstone Lords MC 5)

  Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer… It’s a bitch when they’re one and the same.

  Brinley

  I know who I am, I know what I look like and it’s not the woman who belongs on the arm of a sexy biker. He’s drop-dead gorgeous and a notorious ladies’ man. They call him Hero. To save my life, I have to call him my old man.

  When my dad sold me to a biker gang to pay off his debts, I escaped to the only place I could think of safe enough to help me lay low and plan out the rest of my life. With my sister Hannah and The Brimstone Lords.

  Now, after the bad guys have found me, the only way the Lords will protect me is if I belong to one of them… and that’s not going so well.

  Hero

  Who does she think she is showing up at the compound looking the way she does? Yeah, she’s pretty but she’s clearly never strived for thigh gap. Big girls don’t belong with bikers. But she’s Hannah’s sister and needs protection. With our club at war with the Horde, we can’t go against any new threats without reason. To get our protection, she needs to be connected to the Lords and the only way to do that is to be claimed.

  I think we’re both in trouble.

  Also by Sarah Zolton Arthur

  Adult Romance

  Series

  Immortal Elements Series

  Flight: The Roc Warriors (Immortal Elements Bk. 1)

  Soar: The Warrior’s Fight (Immortal Elements Bk. 2)

  Run: The Viking Pack (Immortal Elements Bk. 3) coming soon…

  Standalones

  Summer of the Boy

  The Significance of Moving On

  Skydiving, Skinny-Dipping & Other Ways to Enjoy Your Fake Boyfriend

  Audio

  Summer of the Boy

  Skydiving, Skinny-Dipping & Other Ways to Enjoy Your Fake Boyfriend

  1.

  Scotch

  “You can’t go in there!”

  That’s yelled from outside. Sounds like Dutchy, one of the prospects. What the ever-loving-fuck now? It’s far too early to be dealing with shite. And don’t we deserve a break? It’s been one thing after another for going on two years now.

  “One thing after a-fucking-nother,” I murmur. Two mugs low on coffee. I don’t even have a shirt on. Not that I care about shirts. But I do care about commotion on the compound, so I walk over to the front door, throwing it open.

  A woman? All that yelling over a woman? Albeit a hot woman, at least what I can tell of her through blurry-needing-more-sleep eyes. Big hair. Bigger tits. Decent face. Smoking curves. It’s never too early to think about pussy, as in, getting some. And in an instant, I go from sleepy to getting some mode as I assume the pose. One arm propped up against the doorjamb, resting my weight on one leg.

  Then I reach out to stroke her arm with one finger, shooting her The Smile. It gets me what I want. Always has. And right now, I want her mouth wrapped around my cock.

  Oh, yeah.

  “Hello,” I coo, cocking an eyebrow at her in that come-hither way the lasses seem to get off on.

  “Scotch,” she says back, and I wrinkle my brows. She knows me? Her laugh comes humorlessly. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

  The woman doesn’t give me time to answer.

  “Of course you don’t. Not the mighty Scotsman. Isn’t that what you had me call out when you were fucking me?”

  It’s probably what I had her call me. I’ve had women call it plenty of times in the past, but she’s right. I don’t remember her. “What do ya want?” I ask.

  Her laugh grows louder. “They’re your problem now,” she bizarrely answers as she moves both hands to point down by her feet. There’s a baby carrier set on the ground next to each.

  I look at them, then look back up to her only to see her retreating backside. What the hell is going on?

  “Ya can’t leave them here—” I pause because I can’t recall her name.

  “It’s Constance, asshole.” She flips me the bird but doesn’t stop walking. “And yes, I can. Have fun, Daddy.”

  Daddy?

  Daddy?

  Wait— “No.” Once it clicks, my body jerks and I take off running after her, but she’s already made it inside her car, started it, and put it into drive. “Close the gate!” I shout to Dutchy. Constance, or whatever she said her name is, accelerates. If he closes the gate, that bitch is crazy enough to ram it. Only one woman I ever went ungloved with and this bitch ain’t her. How the fuck did this happen? Was I not careful pulling out? Did the condom roll? I bet it rolled when I was pulling out. Wish I remembered.

  Dutchy whips his head between me and the car and wisely, though I’ll never tell him this, moves out of the way, not attempting to close the gate. Her tires squeal as she guns it out of the lot, sticking her finger out the open window to flip me off once again.

  “What the fuck is goin’ on out here?” Duke, our president, storms out of his house, no shirt and belt buckle undone. Shite, his pants are unbuttoned. No hiding what he’d been up to.

  Caity, his old lady, runs out as sh
e wipes at her mouth. Her fiery locks disheveled. It’s a contrast to her professional doctor scrubs and white coat. That man lucked the fuck out with a sexy doctor for a wife.

  Then from behind me, I hear, “Scotch, you can’t leave them unattended.” Boss’s old lady, Elise, calls out to me.

  Leave them unattended? I turn to look at her. I mean, I love her. Not a brother on the compound hasn’t jacked off to dreams of her bedroom eyes shining up at him while she sucked him off, not that we’d ever tell Boss. He’d kill us while we slept. She’s one hot lass and fucking funny. She gives Boss a run for his money on the daily. But why is she here so early and what the fuck is she talking about? I squint my eyes at her and shake my head mouthing a silent, “What?”

  “The babies,” she calls back. “You can’t leave them sitting here unattended.”

  The car is gone and I’m at a loss. My hands go from hanging limp—the only part of me to ever go limp, at least I’m certain ’a that—to resting at my hips while trying to put together what happened. “Babe-ies?” I ask slowly.

  “Fuck, brother,” Duke shouts. “Go get yer kids. Take ’em inside the clubhouse. It ain’t really cold out, but it ain’t warm, either.”

  “I—what?” I ask again. The man spoke words; hell if I understood any of them.

  “Go get yer fuckin’ kids.” His eyes go wide in the way he makes them when he’s telling someone to move their arse without words.

  Good thing my feet listen as the rest of me is still stuck on ‘Go get yer kids.’ Next thing I know, I stop next to these two baby carriers and can feel everyone’s eyes on me.

  “Pick them up,” Elise whispers.

  Right. Elise, holding her son, Gun, uses her elbow to hold the door open for me as I pick up the carriers, one handle in each hand. I have to turn sideways to fit through the doorway, then walk them over to the bar. The women set carriers down on the bar top all the time. So I know the brothers won’t yell at me for that one.

  Each babe has a pink knitted stocking cap on its head. Pink. Do women put pink on boys nowadays? “Please for the love of all that’s holy, someone tell me pink is a boys’ color now, too.” It doesn’t matter who answers. I feel them all gathering at my back, the nosey fucks. Just as long as someone answers me the way I need them to answer.

  Caity giggles. Elise joins in. Shite, then as if there weren’t enough bitches and babies converged here today, Trisha, Sneak’s old lady, whips her blonde hair back as she outright laughs. She wears it longer than when he first started bringing her around the club, but Sneak doesn’t mind. He says she’s got less time to work a haircut into her schedule, but it’s okay because he likes to wrap it around his hand and tug when he’s fucking her. TMI, but I get it. Gotta love the hair tug.

  “Pink is a perfectly acceptable color for any gender,” Elise answers. She sets her hand on my back, probably intending to comfort me before the blow she’s about to wield. “But typically, clothes makers use pink for girls.”

  Fucking hell. I was afraid she’d say that.

  “Plus,” Caity joins in, “women don’t usually name their sons ‘Mollie’ and ‘Macie.’”

  Mollie and Macie?

  She points to the caps on their heads. Sure enough, sewn in white, curly script, one says ‘Mollie’ and the other ‘Macie.’

  The Macie one looks at me and her lower lip quivers. Then she lets out an ear-piercing cry. Soon as she does, her sister starts on one too. Solidarity? Baby Gun, baby Diesel and baby Briar Rose pick up the cause, wailing too. It sounds like a daycare up in here. But they have mothers to bounce them and whisper sweet shite in their ears.

  All I can do is stare at the alien creatures responsible for setting off all the other alien creatures. This can’t be happening.

  “Pick her up,” Duke orders gruffly. Not that he knows how to talk any other way except to his wife and kids. He’s a giant motherfucker and can be intimidating to those of us who know him, scary as shit to those who don’t. But to Caity and the kids, ya’d think he’s a teddy bear.

  “How am I supposed to do that?” I ask not intending to piss anyone off, it’s just I’ve never held a wee babe in my life. Duke, apparently done with my ineptitude, shoves me out of the way with his tattooed shoulder to unhook the restraints and scoop the lass from her carrier. One hand splayed wide under her neck and the other her bum. Then he shifts her to rest her head against his chest.

  “Shh…” he says as he bounces her.

  Caity steps to his side, holding out her finger for Macie to grab hold of. “They look about four months old,” she says in one of those annoying baby voices that people talk to their dogs in. “Cutie pies. Yes, you are a cutie pie, aren’t you?” She shakes her finger the baby’s holding and dammit if the rugrat doesn’t stop her crying. Then Caity looks to me. “I’ll examine them after I get home from work, but they look well cared for.”

  “Pick up the other one,” Duke snaps at me.

  Copying him exactly, I unhook the restraints and slide one hand under Mollie’s neck, the other under her bum, and lift her from the seat. Her cap slips a little on her head and I see she has the same coppery red hair as me.

  “Shh…” I continue to copy Duke, bouncing the lass. “I’m Scotch,” I tell her for some stupid reason. It’s not like she can understand me.

  “You’re ‘Daddy,’” Elise corrects me. “I’m sure Caity can run a paternity test, but dude, they’re your mini mes.”

  My mini mes?

  “Except for their vaginas,” I feel the need to point out. “What the hell am I supposed to do with vagina-wielding babes?”

  They laugh at me as if any of this is funny. Trisha steps up next to me. She runs a bent finger gently over Mollie’s cheek. “You take care of them the same as the rest of us. Duke took to raising Jade right away. And if you need advice on baby girls, Sneak’s a pro now. You’re not alone. It’s what the club’s about; we have each other’s backs.”

  “Am I allowed to change their names at least?” I ask because really? Mollie and Macie?

  “Why?” the women ask together.

  “Because those are not badarse biker names. How about Rebel and Rocket?”

  “Rocket?” Elise asks, full of incredulity.

  “Yeah, I can call her ‘Rocky’ for short.”

  “I think you’ve got bigger things to worry about than names,” she replies. “You’ve got nothing for them. You’ll need clothes, diapers, formula…”

  This day just keeps getting worse. I look at the clock on the wall and realize if I don’t get ready, I’m gonna be late for work.

  “Can ya take them?” I ask. “I’ve got work.”

  “Call in. Tell them you’ll be late. I’m pretty sure your bosses will understand.”

  She only says that because all the men work for club-owned businesses. It makes things easier for the brothers, especially the tatted ones, since we never go anywhere without our cuts and the Lords have garnered a reputation for not putting up with shite. We tend to get railroaded when applying for jobs. That, and it helps us to stay employed when we get called away on runs or the club heads out of state for a rally.

  “Well, aren’t you lucky we all showed up here today?” Elise shifts baby Gun on her hip to let Mollie hold her finger too. Unlike Caity who lives in a house on the compound, Elise and Trisha live in town with their men, though they spend plenty of nights here in the clubhouse on nights they can get a sitter. Each patched-in member gets a room if he wants one. Keeps the party going, they don’t have to worry about driving home drunk. Plus, it’s convenient when a brother gets an itch to fuck his old lady or one of the pieces or hot mamas. Real convenient.

  “So ya’ll sit with them?” I ask, putting Mollie back down in her seat, though the little one keeps her hand gripped tightly around Elise’s finger.

  “No,” Trisha says, not even attempting to sugarcoat her refusal for me. “The whole reason we showed up here is because we like to meet for coffee at Caity’s before we take the kid
s to daycare. But when I got to the Ellis abode, she was… indisposed.” Caity pops out a loud laugh, covering half her face with her hand. “So I came into the clubhouse to wait.”

  “What about the babes?”

  “I have to work, too.” My heart drops when Elise says that. Though,” she continues, and I think I’m about to get a boon from the universe when—bam!—she shuts me down. “I’m sure the boss will understand if I come in late, seeing as I’ll just give him a blow job when he gets home and all will be right with the world. I’ll take you to the store. Help you find some emergency provisions.”

  Provisions? Are we taking care of babies or preparing for nuclear fallout? Nausea roils through my stomach and I haven’t even eaten today.

  “They just opened up the new infant room,” Caity says.

  “Yeah, that new teacher is so sweet,” Trish adds. “Because they have her now, the daycare is taking on new kids.”

  Wait, “Ya mean they’ll turn away kids?” I ask.

  “If they don’t have the room,” Trish answers. “Law says they’re only allowed so many babies per teacher. The spots’ll fill up fast.”

  “Man, will they ever,” Caity agrees. “So if he’s going to get the girls in, he better do it today. I gave recommendations to two different infants’ parents yesterday. It’s a good daycare.”

  “The best,” Elise says. “After we stop at the store, we’ll stop off there and hopefully get the girls signed up. Gun loves it there.”

  With their coffee plans out the window, Trish and Caity give the girls cheek kisses, then each woman touches her cheek to mine, as if we ever interact this way. They pack up their babies and walk out the front of the club. Caity only after her man grabs hold of her wrist to spin her to him and mutters, “Lips.” Their inappropriate lip-lock done, he drops a kiss to his boy’s head. Lastly, he bends down to kiss his daughter, Jade. Sweet little thing, I think she’s in kindergarten now. Spitfire like her ma, Duke’ll be lucky he doesn’t end up in prison from killing any pubescent piss-wad who gets too frisky with her when she gets older. I never even saw her enter the clubhouse. He lets the three of them go. All the while holding my new dau—er—Macie.