Awaken The Beast: Snakes Henchmen MC Read online




  Awaken The Beast

  Snakes Henchmen MC

  Alivia Grayson

  Awaken The Beast

  Snakes Henchmen MC

  Copyright © 2019 Alivia Grayson

  The contents of this novel are pure fiction.

  All names, places and events are in no way associated with any persons dead or alive.

  Places and events are used for fictional purposes only.

  Any similarity's to real life events, places or persons are pure coincidence.

  No Part of this book may be reproduced in any former by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of dried quotations in a book review.

  All rights reserved.

  For my Family.

  My beautiful babies, and the man I love with all that I am. For sister and best friend, who gives me the strength every day to keep fighting. Thank you for always believing in me, your love and support mean everything. Without you, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today.

  I would also like to thank my dedicated ARC team, who have read this series with love and enthusiasm, and I will be forever grateful to you all!

  Contents

  Introduction

  1. VJ

  2. Chloe

  3. VJ

  4. Chloe

  5. VJ

  6. Chloe

  7. VJ

  8. Sophie

  9. Chloe

  10. VJ

  11. Chloe

  12. VJ

  13. Chloe

  14. VJ

  15. Chloe

  16. VJ

  17. Chloe

  18. VJ

  19. Chloe

  20. VJ

  21. VJ

  22. Bones

  23. Chloe

  24. VJ

  25. Chloe

  26. VJ

  27. Max

  28. Chloe

  29. VJ

  30. Chloe

  31. VJ

  32. Chloe

  33. VJ

  34. Chloe

  35. VJ

  36. VJ

  37. Chloe

  38. VJ

  39. Chloe

  40. Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Alivia Grayson

  Introduction

  Welcome to Snakes Henchmen MC, here’s where you’ll meet the Motorcycle God’s in leather and denim that have plagued my mind for over ten years.

  They’re strong and powerful, dangerous beyonds words sometimes, but vigilantes who fight for the rights of the innocent. Nothing is too much for these men. You need help, they’ll give it to you. You cross them, you die. That’s all there is too it.

  Beware of the panty-melting, ovary exploding bikers with big hearts and even bigger… ;)

  Chapter One

  VJ

  Try and keep your nose clean this time, Jackson. I’d hate to see you back here. Not that I believe for one second, you won’t be back.”

  “We’ll see. Now, why don’t you be a good little warden, and go fuck yourself.”

  Fucking jerkoff warden. I don’t know who the fuck he thinks he is to look down his nose at me. We might have been on the opposite side of the bars, but this cunt need not make out like he’s a law-abiding man, because the cunt is anything but, trust me. The things I know about this asshole could land him in the cell; I just walked out of if he’s not careful.

  “That cocky attitude will get you nowhere, Jackson.”

  I lean into him with a smirk on my face. “You should be nicer to me, warden. Don’t forget; I know secrets about you. You wouldn’t want to become an inmate, now would you?”

  He grits his teeth, and I laugh in his face. Piece of shit will get what’s coming to him one way or another.

  I turn away from the warden and take my belongings from the guard behind the little desk in front of me. Feels damn good to pull my jeans on, my t-shirt, which feels a little snug. All the exercise has bulked me up even more. Not much else to do in prison but workout, watch your back, and never let any fucker think they can get the better of you. I’m smarter than people give me credit for, I know what I’m doing, I know how to intimidate lesser men. I learned a lot about fighting from Draven Vidal, and the intimidation came naturally. Doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there who would literally stab you in the back if you don’t watch it.

  My boots are next to be pulled on; then with a fucking smile, I pull on my cut. Can’t tell you how much I’ve missed wearing this slip of leather. I roll my fingertip over the patch with my name. VJ. It’s good to be fucking free.

  I grab my wallet and keys and stuff them in my pockets, give the guard a dirty look and a smirk before turning and following another guard out the door. I am beyond ready to get the fuck out of here.

  “Be seein’ ya soon, Jackson.” Cunt is trying to get a rise out of me.

  “Not if I see you first.” My sweet tone isn’t what he was expecting, nor is the toothy smile on my face. He scowls, eye twitching the lot — fucking stupid dick.

  Guard at the door, big fat guy, tall as shit, finally opens it and I step out, making my way to the gate that will lead to the outside and freedom. I haven’t breathed in much yet; I’ll keep that for when I’m out there.

  The guy on the gate tips his head, and I ignore him, don’t need any fucking guards trying to be friendly with me. Soon as I’m on the outside and the gate slams behind me with a resounding clang, I breathe in the fresh air so deep in my lungs, I feel like I’m suffocating for a second.

  God, it feels so fucking good to breathe in the fresh air as a free man. Eighteen months in prison is too damn long. Not as long as most, but long enough for me to lose far too fucking much in my life.

  I’m not going home just yet, however. It’s been a long eighteen months without pussy, and for a man like me, that’s a damn lifetime!

  The bar is my best friend tonight. I don’t give a damn about anything else. My Dad thinks I’m being released tomorrow. Yeah, it was wrong of me to tell him that, but I’m not ready to face anyone just yet.

  It doesn’t take me long to jump the greyhound back to Bardsville. An hour later, and I’m in my house taking a shower. It feels good to shower in my own home without thirty other guys watching. I’m not ashamed of my body, I’m a big guy, everywhere, but it doesn’t mean it’s any fun never having any privacy. I stand under the spray for ages, scrubbing away the smell of prison until the water runs cold. Fucking prison, a man like me probably belongs there, but the damn smell of the place will stay with me always.

  Shit, sweat, fear, death, it was all around me for months on end. All of those things are normal in my world, but the stench of it was far worse in a place I couldn’t escape.

  Freedom and pussy... Lot’s of pussy will soon sort me out. I’m a man’s man. I love women of all ages, sizes, and colors. Never promise them more than one night, I’m not a complete bastard. They know what they’re getting with me, and that’s not a relationship of any kind. I’m not that man. If that’s what they want, they need to stay away from me. Simple. More than one night with me will only be their worst nightmare come to life.

  I can tell my mother has been coming by, the place is spotless. Luckily for me, I own this little house. Bought it when I’d just turned twenty. I got it at a knockdown price at auction. The place needed fixing up, which I did mostly myself because I’m handy like that. How did I manage to afford this house on my own? I made a lot of money since joining the Snakes, made even more with my little side projects. Not that anyone knows about them, they’ll never know. I learned a lot from my sister Nova, more than she realizes.
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  All my clothes have been laundered. Thanks, Mom. I pull on fresh jeans and a black t-shirt, my motorcycle boots and debate whether or not to wear my cut tonight. It’s been too fucking long without it. I’ve worn one cut or another throughout my entire life. Homemade mostly until the day I got my official Snakes cut. A biker is what I always wanted to be.

  My father was once the President of Snakes Henchmen MC. I grew up looking up to him. A smart, strong, powerful man who was, is my hero. I heard that he’s just given his Presidents patch to my older brother, Jett, a week ago.

  I might not have kept in touch much with anyone while I’ve been in prison, but it’s not hard to find things out when you want to, particularly when you have Mafia ties.

  The Snakes are a huge family, and I’m lucky to be part of it. My brother is the Prez; one brother-in-law is VP, the other Sergeant-At-Arm’s. Most of us in the MC are linked in one way or another. My family. I’ve missed them all, but I won’t be seeing them tonight.

  I won’t be seeing my parents or siblings either. Most freshly released from prison would go straight home to see their family. After spending so much time away, and refusing every attempt they made to visit, I should be desperate to see them all. I’m not. I just need this night for myself. I need to rid myself of these damn blue balls.

  I also need to forget the hell of the last eighteen months. I spent every fucking day watching my back. Every son of a bitch in that place wanted me dead. Of course, there were a couple of bikers from rival clubs in there. Bastards shanked me a couple of times. They scarred me up good and proper. Fuckers didn’t kill me, though, I’m stronger than that.

  Prison rule number one: Never show weakness.

  Rule number two: Don’t make enemies with the top dog.

  As much as they wanted me dead, the top dog, Vincenzo Montella, put orders out that no one was to touch me. If anyone went against him, he’d kill them. Simple. However, this was after the dicks who shanked me were dealt with. I had no idea at the time why Vincenzo went ballistic over it. One of his men found me in my cell, blood gushing from my gut. It was a deep wound, and I hadn’t realized how deep it was. I’ve got to admit that he saved my life. Paul was a big bastard, made those who attacked me pay on Vincenzo’s orders. No one came near me again. That doesn’t mean they didn’t want me dead, even plot to end me.

  As I said, I had to watch my back every damn day. You can never be too careful in a place like that. Even those who say they’re your friend can quickly turn on you. It only takes one to shank you in the right place, and it will end you. Doesn’t matter how man men you have on your side, they can’t be with you all the time. Not that I needed anyone with me, I gave as good as I got. Don’t go thinking I couldn’t for one second take care of myself. They didn’t call me Action Man for nothing. Bastards!

  Vincenzo called me into his cell one afternoon, about a week after I got out of the hospital wing. A lesser man would have been worried. It wasn’t like Vincenzo didn’t have his henchmen standing around him like he was God himself. Tall, built, tattooed, been in more fights, and killed more people than most, never giving a damn that it put years on their sentences. They were all lifers anyway. I have no real clue what they were in prison for, still, don’t care either.

  Anyway. I stood in Vincenzo’s cell, arms folded around my chest, standing tall and proud. I didn’t want the man to think I was scared of him. Not that I could feel fear, I don’t feel much of anything, to be honest.

  Vincenzo was sitting on a chair watching me while his goons never took their eyes off me. I had a feeling he’d called me there because he wanted me to do his bidding. I wasn’t wrong. He told me point blank that the only reason I was alive was because of him. Draven Vidal was a good friend of his. My brother-in-law and sister-in-law’s big brother, which made me, family to Draven. Which meant he’d gotten in contact with Vincenzo and demanded he watched out for me.

  As Vidal is a Mafia Don and knew his family personally, Vincenzo couldn’t afford to go against him. His life in prison was comfortable thanks to Vidal. Vincenzo had once done a significant job for Draven, so it was the least he could do.

  However, having Draven demand Vincenzo lookout for me pissed me off. I may have done work for him over the years, accepted his help to learn how to harness the inner demons, but that didn’t give him the right to act like I was a dumb kid who couldn’t take care of himself. I was quite capable of taking care of myself and everyone around me. Shit, I even refused to let anyone call my family after I was stabbed because I didn’t want them there, didn’t want them to know. Vincenzo had informed me that he’d told Draven, who then swore not to tell my family if that was what I wanted.

  Prick.

  But it was what it was.

  I’m also not a stupid man, and I knew I could use my connection to Vincenzo to my advantage. So I listened to Vincenzo, I did what he wanted. I became one of his heavies. He paid me for my work, gave me his protection also. No one bothered me, and I got off on carrying out punishments. I became one of his most trusted and feared men. I also allowed Vincenzo to believe he was in control of the monster I am. When in reality, I was the one in charge.

  Vincenzo told me just before I was released that he’d be in touch. ‘I have many uses for you, VJ.’ Said the man behind bars for the rest of his life.

  The crazy old bastard literally killed half the people in his home town. He massacred them all at some big community event, then walked out of the place covered in blood while the cops waited from him. He laughed when he told me how he slaughtered those women and kids. Turned my stomach but I said nothing. He got what he deserved — life in prison with no hope of patrol.

  Actually, the death penalty would have been what he deserved, but he escaped the death penalty because his lawyer claimed diminished responsibility. Lucky bastard.

  He’ll be calling on me soon, but he’ll soon learn that you don’t expect anything from VJ. There is nothing I won’t do to those who stupidly believe I’m their puppet. It doesn’t take people long to understand the psychopath that I am. I get off on pain and torture. I relish the screams of those who awaken the beast within. It thrilled me to do Vincenzo’s bidding while in prison. It will excite me to do Vidal’s once again now that I’m out.

  The club I just walked into is pumping. It’s packed. Not really my scene, but I need a drink. Plus, this place is just a couple of blocks from my house. The thing I want most in the world is to feel my motorcycle between my legs. The roar of the engine as I ride the wind. However, that will have to wait. Tonight, I want to drink my weight in whiskey and fuck the first willing pussy that crosses my path.

  I order a large whiskey from the young male bartender, knock it back the second he hands it to me, and order another. Hell, the little guy might as well leave me the damn bottle.

  I look around the club. There are girls aplenty dancing their asses off; I could take my pick. If I were wearing my cut, they’d throw themselves at me. Hell, they always throw themselves at me no matter what, cut or no cut. Just seems to get them off harder when they know I’m a biker, bitches like danger. However, tonight, I’m not wearing my cut, so I’ll see which girl wants me for me.

  Only a crazy bitch out of her mind would want a man like me, but fuck if I care. I’ll buy the bitch a drink, take her home and fuck her senseless. She’ll never have had a man like me. Nor will she ever again. I’ll ruin her and send her on her way, just like every other woman I’ve fucked in my life.

  A half an hour later, and no one has caught my eye. Three women have approached me at the bar, beautiful women, but women I can see would give it away for a glass of vodka. Though I don’t mind easy sluts, something else is calling to me tonight. I haven’t met her yet, but I sense she’s not far away.

  I need to piss. On the way back from the bathroom, I walk right into a chick walking back toward the bar.

  “Oh my god, you jerkoff. Can you not look where you’re going?”

  I lock eyes with her, this
short, probably five-foot-four if that, brunette, with blue eyes, wearing a tight red dress that showcases her perfect curves and bubble butt, and heels that are supposed to make her look taller, but don’t. She’s stunning. I don’t usually go for the short ones, but there’s something about her that has my cock stiffening in my jeans.

  I told you I’d know the one I want tonight when I saw her.

  “I think you’ll find, little lady,” I say while folding my arms around my chest, “That you walked into me.”

  “Right. Sure I did.” She rolls her eyes. She’s tenacious, and I like that. I usually like my women a little on the submissive side. So again, this is weird to me. “Why the hell are you looking at me like that?”

  “Can’t a man appreciate a beautiful woman these days?”

  She raises her eyebrow at me. She doesn’t look impressed at all. “I don’t know, why don’t you go find one and ask?”

  Narrowing my eyes, I look at her. I can’t tell whether she’s being honest or not. I’m usually good at reading people. This woman can’t honestly think she’s not beautiful? She’s stunning, and she is so mine for tonight.