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  Riding ADDICTION: A Bad Boy MC Romance

  A Bad Boy MC Romance Series Book 5

  Kylie Parker

  Contents

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  Riding ADDICTION Book Description:

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

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  Riding ADDICTION Book Description:

  What consequences will their choice have?

  Bruce Harris and Matt Wilson, mechanics and best friends for more than twenty-five years, share their passion for Harley Davidson motorcycles. Just like every other person on planet Earth decides to do at one point, they decide to take a break. What is better than a road trip across the States?

  * * *

  They leave their birthplace of Boston on a bright, cool, late-September day. Matt likes to gamble. Bruce is not a fan of gambling, but joins his friend for the long ride to Las Vegas. Somewhere along the way, they witness a deadly accident where Matt finds large bags of money in the back of a truck. He wants to take it, but there is a problem; They used to be members of a motorcycle club and only left it because Bruce wanted to start a legitimate business. Matt desire to take the money puts his best friend in a dilemma.

  * * *

  Will they take the money?

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  Chapter 1

  Had Melissa given Bruce that letter a few hours earlier, he would have been dying to read it. The time or place would not matter. He would love to read whatever his lover had to say to him. However, that was not the case anymore. For him, the envelope in his hands was just a reminder of her betrayal. His initial thought was to burn it. Deep down, he knew that her words would hurt him more deeply than her actions. However, he did no such thing. He chose to put it in his pocket and try to focus on the task at hand. Not only for Matt, but also for Julia and her partner. Their help in getting Melissa back had been invaluable. Bruce had to do everything in his power to save their lives, as he felt guilty about dragging them into this chaos.

  A few minutes after 11pm on that dark, chilly, moonless night in Fountain Hills, he and Howard’s men took up their positions on Barnard Road, hiding in pairs behind large, thorny bushes, on either side of the uphill road. As Bruce would lead the assault, he hid with Tom behind the bush with the best vantage point, at the top of the road. The right turn that the six, armored trucks would take was more than five hundred yards down the road, giving them plenty of time to get ready.

  Under any other circumstances, Bruce would not feel anxious at all. He had done this twice before, while being a member of the motorcycle club. Back then though, he only had to worry about his personal safety. The lives of three innocent people did not depend on him. More than that, the people who he had worked with were his friends and would risk their lives to save him, not total strangers like the ones he was with that night. He had been given an AK-47, a powerful assault rifle and a handgun, but he knew that should anything go wrong, he could not rely on any of them.

  “Look what you made me do.” He thought to himself, grasping the grip of his rifle. “This is all because of you, Melissa. I really don’t know why you flew here. Are you still hoping that we’ll be together after this? Really? Guess again, darling. This ship has sailed.”

  Picking up the faint sound of an engine, he slightly raised his head over the bush. Two seconds later, the headlights of the first truck appeared in the horizon.

  “Get ready.” He spoke in his intercom, as tension tightened the back of his neck. The first truck entered Barnard Road. The remaining five followed within seconds. Shivers went down his spine, as he realized that he had to give the order to block off the road.

  “Block them!” Bruce commanded. Within seconds, the two trucks that Tom had spoken of emerged from the road to the right. The first turned onto Barnard Road and the other one followed behind it. After a few seconds, the driver on the left lane eased up on the brakes, stopped and waited for his colleague to do the same, as the first armored truck approached the top of the road. Should any of the truck drivers decide to escape, he would have to use the muddy, ditch-ridden sides of the road. With the first armored truck nearly a hundred yards away, Bruce drew in a deep breath, feeling drops of sweat flowing down his forehead.

  “Now!” He whispered, just when the second truck came to a full stop. Upon his order, he and eleven of Howard’s men popped out of the bushes, with their rifles pointed at the driver of the armored truck. The driver stepped on the brakes. The tires of the large vehicle squealed as it was slowly brought to a halt.

  “Get out of the truck!” Bruce’s stentorian voice roared like thunder, echoing in the vast wilderness. The driver opened his door with fear-clumsy fingers and stepped down the large vehicle; moments later, his colleague followed.

  “On your knees! Hands behind your head!” He ordered once more. The two security clerks had no choice but to comply.

  “Do what I said.” He told Tom, looking down at him over his left shoulder. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “You heard the man!” Tom spoke in a loud tone. “Gather them up. Let’s move!”

  Bruce lowered his rifle, looking down into the terrified eyes of the middle-aged truck driver. He squeezed his lips and began to shake his head sideways, overwhelmed with guilt over his actions.

  “Poor bastard.” He thought to himself, as Howard’s men dragged him away from the vehicle. “I just threatened you with a gun, because some rich prick wanted to get richer. Damn… I wish she was here, just to see his face. That’s the only way she’d understand what she’s done.”

  Howard’s men carried out Bruce’s orders. The security clerks were gathered on the left side of the road. Soon afterwards, they bound the clerks’ hands and ankles. Three men jumped into the decoy trucks. One at a time, they put the trucks into gear and jumped out of them. They all crashed into the large oak trees, on the left or the right side of the road. With the trucks disabled, it was time for Bruce and Howard’s men to leave.

  “We’re ready.” Tom spoke in the intercom. Bruce sprinted along the road and boarded the first of the three remaining trucks.

  “That was fucking beautiful!” Tom commented, with a silly smile on his face, climbing into the truck cab.

  “If you say so.” Bruce croaked.

  “Come on, man!” Tom patted him on the back. “You should be proud!”

  “Ok, shut up and let me drive this thing, will you?” Bruce groaned, gently stepping on the gas.

  “Whatever you say.” Tom spoke in a happy tone, lying back in his seat.

  “Alright, you piece of shit. We’ve done it. Let’s see if you can keep your word.”

  Chapter 2

  Tom was fast asleep, when Bruce entered the straight where the old warehouse was loc
ated at. Spotting it on the right side of the road, three hundred yards away, he pulled out his gun and abruptly turned his head to the right. Bruce cocked it, two inches away from Tom’s ear.

  “Get out.” He commanded, as Tom opened his blurry eyes. He looked down the barrel of a gun. In a split second, he opened his eyes wide.

  “I’m not going to repeat myself.” Bruce snarled. Tom then reached for the door handle, still staring at the gun in Bruce’s firm hand. He opened it and jumped out of the large vehicle. Bruce averted his gaze from the door and looked at the warehouse. He put his foot hard down on the gas. The massive, diesel engine roared. Grasping the steering wheel tightly, he turned the truck slightly right, putting it in a collision course with the warehouse. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, as the large building came dangerously close. Just before impact, Bruce saw Howard, standing behind the window.

  The big, heavy vehicle crashed forcefully into the warehouse. Thousands of shards of glass were shot into the old building, along with countless splinters of wood. Howard’s body was thrown more than fifty feet across the warehouse. He landed flat and very hard on his back, moaning in agonizing pain. Bruce stepped hard on the brakes. The tires squeaked, as the truck slowed down. It was brought to a halt, just a few feet away from the small room on the corner. Bruce grabbed the rifle and jumped out of the truck, as Melissa stormed out of the room. Meanwhile, Howard’s men had caught up with him. They stopped right behind Bruce’s truck.

  “Dad!” Melissa screamed, looking down at her bleeding father.

  “Get back in that room!” Bruce yelled, cocking back his rifle. “It’s about to get rowdy in here.” He continued, as Howard’s men began to jump out of the trucks. Grasping the grip of his rifle, Bruce started towards Howard. Before he got closer than ten feet from him though, all hell broke loose. Multiple semi-automatic weapons, rifles and pistols started firing, almost simultaneously. The men carrying those weapons were behind the last truck, firing at Howard’s men. Bruce was stunned to discover that they were not shooting at him. One by one, his enemies were brutally gunned down. Hardly anyone of them managed to fire a shot. Even Tom was shot, in his attempt to run back to the warehouse. Bruce took a few quick steps back and leaned his back against the truck, completely clueless about their identity.

  “Hold your fire!” A loud, hoarse voice was heard, as the cracking sounds of the gunshots resounded in the warehouse. Helped by the truck lights, Bruce bent his head to the left and snuck a peek. Several men were coming his way. This time though, he could tell who they were. Their black, leather jackets with the big, white pistol logo on the chest left him no doubt. They were members of “Blazing Sons”, his old, motorcycle club. Adding to his already immense surprise, Vincent Burrows himself was leading them.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Vincent sounded very cheerful indeed. “Come on, Harris. I already know it was you. That’s not the way to welcome your brothers.”

  Bruce took two, hesitant steps to the right, walking into the light. Each and every member of the Las Vegas and the Boston charters was there. Vincent was smiling broadly up at him, surrounded by more than twenty men.

  “Well, well, well… If it ain’t Rambo!” He cheered, opening his arms. His men burst out laughing. Bruce was stunned to stillness. He opened his eyes wide in disbelief, before Vincent hugged him cordially.

  “You should have told me about this.” Vincent complained, leaning back. “Matt reached out to me last night. He told me all about Sanders and his business with Howard. I was about to call you, when I got a call from the boys in Vegas. They said Joe was dead. They also mentioned Howard’s plan. We took the first flight out.”

  “Boss, I just got off the phone with Wilson.” One of them interjected. “He said they escaped.”

  “Thank God.” Bruce sighed in relief. “You flew all the way from Boston to help me?” He inquired, unable to hide his surprise.

  “Yeah.” Vincent said with a nod. “The Sons always help out each other. You know that.”

  “I left the MC a couple of years ago.” Bruce spoke in a steady tone. “We never helped former members.”

  “True, but you were a member for nine years, son.” Vincent smiled. “I practically raised you. I just thought I should make an exception for you. Come say ‘hi’ to the boys. They’ve missed your sorry ass.”

  Bruce did not have to go to them. One by one, his old comrades walked up to him and hugged him, looking very happy to see him again. Relieved that he was still alive and grateful to them, he returned their hugs. Within moments, he began to smile at them as well. Lost in a group hug, he did not notice Vincent, as he passed them by. He went to the right and stopped next to Howard. Looking down at him, he pulled out his gun. Bruce did not have time to react. Vincent pulled the trigger. The bullet penetrated Howard’s skull. He was killed instantly.

  “Noooo!” Melissa screamed at the top of her lungs, once again storming out of the room. She sprinted across the warehouse, towards her father. Just before she reached him, she fixed her gaze on the bullet hole on his head. Melissa stopped beside him, fell to her knees and dropped her head in her hands, bursting into wailing sobs.

  “We had to retaliate.” Vincent said, lazily returning to his men.

  “Can I have a moment with her?” Bruce requested.

  “Sure.” Vincent muttered. “Come on, boys. Let’s give those two some privacy.”

  Putting his hands on his waist, Bruce watched her emotional breakdown. Seeing her like that broke his heart. Part of him wanted to go to her and comfort her, hold her in his arms one last time. However, he chose to stay where was. As much as she had hurt him though, he owed her an explanation.

  “I wasn’t going to kill him.” Bruce sighed. “I’d put a gun to his head and ask him to release them. His goons would put down their guns and I’d be free. I didn’t know they were coming.”

  “Why?” She sniffled, abruptly looking up at him over her right shoulder.

  “Because he wouldn’t have kept his promise. He’d kill me.” He replied, his voice steady and calm. Bruce slowly turned around, looking down at his feet.

  “Is that it?” She wondered, hastily getting up. “Is that all you got to say?” Her trembling voice forced him to stop.

  “I told you the truth.” He claimed, unwilling to face her again.

  “Is this another ‘goodbye’?” Melissa’s last question brought tears to his eyes. Bruce bit his lower lip, trying hard to fight them back. It was hopeless; a thick tear rolled down his right cheek, as he realized that he could never see his beloved Melissa again. Desperate to catch a glimpse of the woman who had captured his heart, he turned around once more and faced her.

  “I never…” His voice broke; unable to resist the urge to hold her again in his arms, he began to walk up to her. “I never meant to say ‘goodbye’. I shouldn’t have left Vegas.”

  “It was all true, baby.” She whispered, putting her hands on his face, as more tears spilled from her eyes. “Please don’t ask me to stop calling you that. You’ll always be my baby…” Melissa ran her thumbs across his cheekbones. He closed his eyes, savoring her light touch. Bruce wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her close. He kissed her on her forehead, filling his nostrils with her feminine scent, feeling her shaking body in his embrace.

  “Goodbye, Melissa.” He whispered. Bruce dropped his arms and kept his eyes closed, trying to avoid witnessing her reaction. But, he could not close his ears. Her loud sobs tore him apart, as he made his way out of the warehouse. Determined not to relive another painful moment, he did not look back. Whatever he and Melissa had was over. Now, he had to find a way to live without her…

  Chapter 3

  Bruce left Fountain Hills with his old friends that night. They suggested flying back to Boston together, but he insisted on going back to Los Angeles, maintaining that he wanted to see Matt and collect his motorcycle. Nevertheless, the next flight to Los Angeles was scheduled to leave in the morning. Bruce had t
o spend the night in Phoenix.

  The thought of reading Melissa’s letter flashed through his mind, as he found himself all alone in a small hotel room. Intrigued by the thickness of the envelope, lying on a narrow bed, he opened it and pulled the lengthy letter out of it.

  * * *

  “My dearest Bruce,

  They say that finding your significant other is hard; maybe harder than some people think. I agree. It’s not just hard. In today’s world, it’s almost impossible. There is so much distrust, so much stress that people tend to focus on their personal needs, not caring about others. Well, most of them do.

  I guess I got lucky, then. I found my significant other in a bar, or, perhaps I should say, he found me. There he was, big and strong, talking to me when most locals wouldn’t even risk a glance at me. He didn’t know anything about my father. I lied to him, thinking that he’d run if he found out who I was. But you know what? He didn’t run. He stayed. He believed in what he had, even though it was new and he forgave me for lying to him. Then, I was honest with him. My man had baggage, too. He used to be an outlaw. He wouldn’t tell me at first. It really amazed me that he felt sorry about whatever he’d done. He was still hurting; I could tell by the look in his eyes, on the night we met. That’s why I asked his friend’s help. I wanted to see him again. I said to myself: ‘That man’s got soul. He’s true.”