Kill For Me (Snakes Henchmen MC 5)

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

Hawk

I am what some would call a Bastard.

A cunt.

A criminal.

A murderer.

An outlaw.

I am all those things and more.

I'm also a man in love with a girl he can't have.

Oh, she was mine not so long ago. At first, she was just some girl I met in a club in town. A blonde haired, five-foot, beauty that had my dick straining to get out of my pants the second I laid eyes on her. I took her home, fucked her raw, and made her mine that same night.

There was just something about that girl that had me hooked like a junkie from the second our eyes met. She was mine, and I never wanted to let her go.

She was mine for thirteen amazing months. My old lady. The woman I wanted to marry. The woman I wanted to bear my children.

So why did she leave me?

Her racist cunt of a father found out about us. He found her leather with, Property Of Hawk, written across the back in white stitching. He beat the hell out of her and locked her up like a prisoner.

It's hard to say how we managed to keep things from him for so long, but we did. Brooke came to see me whenever she could, almost every day. She stayed with me most nights after telling him she was staying with her friend. Her white friend because friends of color would mean severe punishment from that man.

So why then did she fall for a guy with a mixed-race mother and a white daddy?

Because she's nothing like those fucks, she calls her family. She was proud to be mine, but she was scared of what her father would do to us both if he knew about us.

I tried to make her see many times that he could do nothing; I would kill him first. However, Brooke begged me not to do anything, that if I really wanted to make her my wife, then we should just do it because once we had, he could do nothing to hurt her. She would have legally been my wife, and he'd have no authority to touch her. However, until then, he could call the damn cops and have me done for kidnap.

Wouldn't the cops just love to arrest a Snakes Henchmen?

It took me two days to realize something was up; she never stayed away from me for that long. That's when her piece of shit daddy rode up to the clubhouse gate in his pickup truck and demanded to see me. I faced him; cunt didn't scare me.

However, as he yelled how I needed to stay away from Brooke, my mother came up beside me. It's undeniable who my mother is; I look just like her only lighter in color, my little brother looks just like our father. Brooke's father was furious, jumped in his truck and rode away.

I couldn't settle. I waited a while, knew I needed to see Brooke. I had to make sure she was okay. I wanted to tell her that I'd take care of her; she didn't need that old fuck.

So I rode over to that damn piss-poor farm of theirs with a couple of brothers and demanded that old cunt let me see her. I wanted to hear it from her mouth that she didn't want me anymore.

He dragged Brooke outside and beat her in front of me.

Of course, I rushed over to stop him, and he turned his fucking shotgun on me. I'm no idiot; the man's a lunatic, he would have shot me right then and there without a seconds thought.

He dragged Brooke to her feet by her hair and told her to choose, but should she pick me; she'd watch me die right there in front of her.

He might have killed me, but my brothers would have killed him just the same. I saw the look in her eyes as she looked at me; there was no way she was going to risk him shooting me. That's why she said, "I don't love you, Hawk. I was bored and needed something to pass the time. I'm sorry, but I'd like you to leave, and stay the hell away from me!”

Yeah, she fucking yelled it, and even though I knew she didn't mean it, she tore my fucking heart right out of my chest and stamped all over it. I got the fuck on my bike and rode on out of there and never looked back.

I don't know what he did to her when I left, I've never heard from her since. I don't even know if she's still alive. I grieve as if she died, it's the only way I'll get through this.

Prez won't let me go back to that fucking farm and take my girl back – if she's even alive. He keeps telling me that he won't risk me being arrested for kidnap.

I don't give a shit about prison, but he's right, I'd go down for it, and Brooke would be right back where she started.

I have no mind for other women. Club whores come on to me all the damn time. I wish they'd leave me the fuck alone with Jack or Johnnie. I drink my fill every night right before I pass the fuck out wherever I am and sleep till someone shakes me the fuck awake.

I've drunk half a bottle of Jack tonight, but it's doing shit for me. I have this weird feeling inside of my gut that tells me something is coming. Something big, but I don't know what that could be.

Maybe I need to get fucking laid, or perhaps I need to quit drinking so fucking hard every night.

Maybe I just need to forget Brooke ever existed.

How do you forget the love of your life?

Because that's what she was to me. There will never be another like her. She was everything. I'll even go so far as to sound like a pansy-ass motherfucker and tell you she was my soulmate.

As I flop down on my bed fully clothed, cut and all, I ask myself if this is ever going to stop hurting. Six months later and it still cuts me the fuck up to think about Brooke, but it's like my brain hates me and taunts me with visions of her. If I could scrub my fucking mind and forget everything, trust me, I would.

How do I forget you, Brooke Webster? How do I forget the way you made me feel? I wish I could stop loving you, but I don't know that I can. I don't kno

w that I'll ever be able to move on until I know you're all right.

So that's what I'll do. Whether the Prez likes it or not, I'm going over to that damn farm and finding out for myself if she's dead or alive. To hell with the consequences.

Chapter Two

Brooke

I was always told that love is supposed to conquer all. I was always told to love others as I want to be loved, treat them the way I wish to be treated. My father was adamant that my siblings and I lived by that... Just so long as none of us ever dated a man or woman of color.

Whites only.

Period!

My father is incredibly racist. Refuses to see a black doctor at the hospital, refuses to shop in a store that hires people of color, even refused to allow us to attend school, in case, we were taught by colored teachers, or mixed with colored students. He's that racist.

None of my siblings ever did date, anyone of color – apart from my big sister a couple of years ago – each one of them sharing my father's views.

Me, on the other hand? I fell for a man whose mother was of mixed-race, and when I say fell, I mean hard.

Hawk was the kind of man who commanded a room the second he walked into it. Everyone would turn to see him striding in. All eyes would stay on him until he'd tip his head in greeting. He was beautiful, tall, muscle-clad, his skin was a light mocha color, his eyes, a beautiful brown-gray color, his hair a mass of dark, loose curls that hung around his neck, his cut and the way he wore it so proudly had me weak at the knees for him, and I was hooked the second I laid eyes on him.

He danced with me that first night. He held me close to him and kissed me as no man had ever kissed me before. I felt too weak to do anything but let him lead us. This big bad biker man, who made my heart pound in ways I didn't even know were possible.

He took me home with him. I knew I shouldn't have gone, but my parents believed I was staying with a friend. Hawk made me feel so special, and he didn't expect anything from me. However, I wanted to give him everything. He made love to me, before fucking me like I never have or never would be again.

In the strip club where I met him – I wasn't stripping, my friend dragged me there in her pursuit of a man she'd been chasing for months – is where he told me a week later that I belonged to him, and I agreed because I had never wanted anything more.

Hawk was a member of a motorcycle club, the Snakes Henchmen. I was a little wary of what that meant. I would be a liar if I said it didn't frighten me a little. I'd heard of his club before, as everyone in this town had. However, my fear dissipated the second he kissed me.

His whole club welcomed me with open arms. I had never felt so wanted in my life. The women treated me like a sister, and even their children called me Aunt Brooke. Hawk's mother and father seemed to love me like their own. I loved that about them. Hawk's father, BlackJack, is also a member of the Snakes Henchmen. A well-respected member.

I have no idea how, but I managed to keep my relationship with Hawk a secret from my father for thirteen whole months. He never once realized what was happening right under his nose. Even though I was wearing a leather jacket with Property Of Hawk embroidered on it, I made sure my father never saw it. I wore it with pride while I was with him, and I tucked it away in the barn before I got home.

My dad ended up finding it one night. He burned it in front of me, said being part of a biker gang was not something he'd put up with from his daughter. I sobbed and begged him to give Hawk a chance, but he wouldn't listen. He beat the hell out of me and told me should I ever see Hawk again; he'd kill him.

The next day, he barged into my room, dragged me from my bed and beat the hell out of me again. I had no idea what for. I begged him to tell me what I had done wrong. He yelled how he'd been to confront Hawk, to tell him to stay away from me. Hawk's mother was there, and my father was furious.

Hawk was beautiful beyond words, and up until that moment, he was all mine. I didn't care that Hawk had a mixed-race mother. I didn't care that he came from black heritage, I don't see color or race, just people, and I loved him so much. I loved his whole family. They always treated me like I belonged with them. I never saw Hawk for anything other than who he was, the man I loved. I didn't share my father's views on anything in this world. He was immoral, racist, a vile man who cared for nothing and no one but himself.

My sister and I both forever thought that what my father drummed into us as children was wrong. People are people. Marnie, my sister would tell me, We all bleed the same, love the same, cry, grieve, and laugh the same. What the hell does it matter if the color of our skin isn't the same? What does it matter if our cultures and beliefs aren't the same? Never let anyone poison your mind, Brooke. Live and love the way you wish others to love you. She was right.

My father confronting the man I loved and demanding that he stay away from me, didn't stop Hawk from coming to my father's farm and demanding that he see me, that my father allow me to leave with him.

My father pulled out his shotgun and held it to Hawk's chest, while he caught me by my arm and told me to tell Hawk how I didn't love him, that he was nothing to me, that I'd used him for my amusement. I couldn't, and my father struck me. God, he hit me so hard I fell to the floor in a heap.

The two other bikers with Hawk, Stryker, and Ghost, threatened my father, that if he touched me again, they'd kill him. I jumped to my feet and begged them to leave, they were my friends, my chosen family, but it wouldn't have changed anything.

Hawk begged me to leave with him, that he would protect me, but I couldn't. If I went, my father would never stop hunting me until he either killed Hawk or me, or both. Then there was the fact I'd never see my sister again. In the end, I screamed at him, told him exactly what my father wanted me to say to him, that I didn't love him, how I never had. He left, and I haven't seen him since.

However, my life hasn't been easy these past six months. Life has been worse than hell. I've tried to be the good daughter, the good sister, but I'm the baby of the family, the letdown, the no-good slut. Even my mother stopped sticking up for me.

I worked hard on the farm, harder than I ever have before. I made sure the horses were cleaned out every morning, brushed down and fed. I worked my hands until they bled some days.

Was it enough to appease my father?

Not a chance.

I concluded a few hours ago that I had to leave the farm. I had to go and never come back. I have no choice. However, I knew I would have to wait until everyone was asleep. I wouldn't even get out of the door if I didn't.

I had to leave in the early hours before my father rose for early morning chores with my brothers. Before the woman, my father called yesterday arrived. I don't have a choice. I won't have a little monkey in my family, no matter how white he may appear, he said.

I could cry all I liked, but it wouldn't change a thing, he said. One night is all I would get, he said, and that was being kind.

One night would never be enough.

How does a woman hand over the baby she would die for?

Gabriel is just ten hours old, and I've already been beaten, whipped, and made to feel like my son is going to be taken from me. I would never wait for that to happen, no matter what my father does to me. He would have to prize my baby out of my cold dead hands before I'd hand him over.

That's why right now, I'm walking in nothing but my shorts and a tank top, flipflops on my feet, my baby boy in my arms, wrapped in a blanket, as I make my way to Hawk's clubhouse. It's miles away from my father's farm, and I shouldn't be walking this far after just giving birth, I haven't had time to heal. My father beat me so badly I can hardly breathe through the pain. However, I won't give up until I get to where I need to be.

I've been walking, I think, for about two hours. My arms ache from holding my tiny newborn son. God, I didn't even know I was expecting him until I pushed him out. However, the second I did, I knew in my heart that I would never let him go.

I named him Gabriel the second he was i

n my arms. My little angel. Named after bother my sister, Marnie Gabrielle, and Hawk, Dante Gabriel Anderson. The two people I love most in this world. Hawk is my baby's father, and I will never deny that. Gabriel Jack Anderson will always know where he came from, and he'll see that he was named after his father and his grandfather. Not my father, there's no way on this earth I would ever call a child after that monster. Hawk's father was more of a father to me than mine ever was, that's why I gave my son his name.

I lift my little man higher against my chest and plant a kiss atop his tiny little head. He doesn't stir. The only way I know he's still breathing is the fact his little mouth is making a sucking motion every now and again. I've only fed him once, and he hasn't woken since. He's going to be a good baby, I can tell already.

Gabriel is so tiny, and he has little tufts of light brown hair, wavy like his daddy's. His little button nose is so sweet, his little chubby cheeks are so soft that I can't help kissing them, and I can tell already that he's going to have tanned skin like his dad. He's perfect, and he's mine.

“Just a little farther, Gabriel. Just another quarter mile and we'll be with Daddy.” I whisper to my son.

I'm almost at the clubhouse, but I didn't think this through, Hawk could be with someone else by now, happy and in love. I won't get in the way of that; I just need his help. I need to keep Gabriel safe from my father. I know he won't turn our son away.