Ransom: Dead Ringers MC Book 2 Read online

  Ransom

  Dead Ringers MC Book 2

  Deja Voss

  Copyright © 2020 by Deja Voss

  All rights reserved.

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

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Epilogue

  WANT MORE Dead Ringers?

  WANT A FREE BIKER BOOK?

  1

  Annabella:

  I tamp down the earth with my shovel, wiping the sweat from my face with my dirty hands. A single crow heckles me with his menacing caw and I look up at him and sigh as I catch my breath. I lay down next to my mother’s fresh gravesite, staring up at him in the treetops. A gust of wind whips through the branches, rattling him loose, and off he goes into the sun.

  Next time around, I promise things will be a lot more fun, Annabella, she promised me on her dying breath.

  I don’t know if I’m crying because I don’t want there to be a next time around or if I’m crying because I just spent the last two days building a coffin, digging a hole, and burying my mother long before her time. When you live a life where nobody can know you exist, nobody can know you die, either. Neither one of us had a plan for that part.

  My hands are splintered, my body feels shattered, and I doubt I can make the three mile hike back to our homestead before dark. It’s not like there’s anybody there who will miss me. Not like there’s anybody there worrying about when I’ll get home.

  I let my tears flow, punching at the earth with all the fight I have left in me, choking on the bile rising up in my throat. I might be thirty years old, but in this moment, I am a child. I am totally alone in this world without a mother. I am lost. I am useless.

  I am no one.

  I am scared.

  “Why would you do this to me?” I sob, curling up into a fetal position.

  My mother was always the spiritual type. Even at our very darkest, she believed God never gave you anything you didn’t ask for. She believed everything was a lesson, bringing you one step closer to your final destination. Leveling up kind of bullshit.

  I’m sure her passing was just another karmic adventure in her mind.

  I, for one, am exhausted with letting the universe do whatever it wants with me.

  The clouds part, and a beam of sunshine warms my entire body, the sweat evaporating from my skin, the tears drying from my sunburned face.

  “At least the universe can’t beat you around anymore,” I say, pressing my face to the dirt. “Rest easy, Mama.”

  I gather my shovel and backpack, not knowing when I’ll return to this spot again. If she’s right, this isn’t her final resting spot. If she’s not, at least she has the company of the crows and the trees, the sun, and the sprinkling of wildflowers I dusted the earth with to keep her eternal company.

  My true north is gone. My guiding light. The person who always preached kindness regardless of how bad things got. The only person strong enough to forgive even though we spent eighteen years in hell together, and another twelve hiding from the monsters who dragged us there to begin with.

  The woman who made me promise I’d never seek revenge is gone forever, and with that, I’m out of fucks to give.

  I take one last look over my shoulder as I reach the clearing in the woods, knowing from this point forward it’s not up to her or the universe or a higher power or whatever mystical contract she signed me up for. How I live my life from this point forward is all on me.

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” I whisper, dragging my shovel behind me as I make the trek down the mountainside.

  I crack open a beer and kick my feet up on the porch swing, my dirty mutt, Juniper, nudging at my hand, begging me for a sip. I debated going in to work tonight, picking up a shift just for the hell of it, figuring the mindless banter of slinging beers and flipping burgers might be good for me, but the idea of having to fix my hair and paint on my face talked me right off that limb.

  I take a sip of my beer, letting Juniper have a little dribble, too, as she curls up on my lap. I pick up my cellphone, trying to psych myself up for the call I know I need to make.

  There’s only one other person in this world who might care that my mom is dead. Our “guardian angel in leather,” the man who helped us escape from the traffickers all those years ago, Brad, otherwise known as Kid.

  It’s funny, because when he found out about us, when he came to save us, he was just a literal kid at twenty years old. He was fearless then, living his life like he had nothing to lose. Even though he hardly knew us, he instantly became a brother to me.

  “Bella,” he exclaims excitedly, picking up after just a ring. “How are you, beautiful? It’s been a long time.”

  “Hey, Brad,” I say.

  “You alright? What’s going on down there? You need money? You guys ok? I’ve been meaning to call you. Shit’s been crazy around here lately.”

  “It’s ok. I understand.” I take a deep breath, sucking down the rest of my beer, trying to conjure up the courage to say what I have to say out loud. Even though I’ve been living the aftermath of my mom’s death the last few days, something about actually speaking it makes it feel so permanent. “This line secure?”

  “Always, babe,” he says in that way that somehow manages to always put me at ease. No matter what I ask him, what I tell him, something about Kid fills me with this sense of security. A true friend. Proof that good exists in this world.

  “Mama died,” I say, choking back my tears.

  “Bella! What happened? Oh my God, do you need help? I can be there in a few hours. You just hang tight. Go for a walk or something.”

  “I took care of it. All of it.” I crack my sore fingers, knowing I probably would’ve lost my damn mind if I didn’t have the distraction of doing her “funeral arrangements.” “I needed to.”

  “I don’t like that at all,” he says.

  “It’s over, Kid. She’s gone. I’m ready to pay you back now.”

  He lets out a long sigh. “You never have to pay me back. I’ve told you that a million times, Bella.”

  “I want to,” I say.

  Everything he did for me and my mother, I often begged him to let me repay him. He never outright said he wanted anything from us, but I made a promise to myself that when my mother passed, I was going to give him exactly what he deserved for his kindness. I was going to give him the same freedom he gave me.

  I was going to save his motorcycle c
lub from the men who were trying to destroy it. I was going to free them from the men who tried to take me and my mother’s life. I was going to kill my father, kill his father, and restore order. I just couldn’t do it while my mother was still alive.

  “I’m coming down to see you, Bella,” he says. “Just hang tight. I’m sorry to hear about Lucy. She was a good woman. Raised a good woman. Wish I could’ve seen her before she died.”

  Juniper licks my face, trying to get comfortable in my lap, and I run my fingers through her spotted coat until she settles down with a sigh. It’s the closest thing to a hug I have right now, his kind words, and this giant pile of fluff who thinks she’s a lapdog, even at eighty pounds.

  “I’m working all weekend,” I tell him.

  “Take some time off, sweetie. I’ll call Turtle and tell him you can’t come in. You won’t get in trouble. I swear.”

  “Gotta keep my mind busy, Kid,” I say. Wandering around this empty house isn’t going to do anything for me, other than remind me of how alone I am in this world. Remind me how I’m probably going to live out the rest of my life like my mother, in solitude, hiding from my own shadow, nobody even aware when I take my last breath. “I’m gonna go nuts if I have to sit here with her stuff.”

  Every inch of this house, even the porch, reminds me of her. Her angel statutes, her crystals, her bird feeders she constructed out of twigs and moss and old milk jugs. All these beautiful little worthless things make me want to burn the house down. I love her so much, I miss her so much, I hate her so much for leaving me.

  I try to hide my fears on the phone. I don’t want Kid to know how bad I’m hurting. I don’t want him to think I’m weak and helpless. I am not a damsel in distress. I’m not some sad little girl who misses her mommy.

  “We’ll get it all taken care of when I come down. You just take it easy. You call me if you need anything at all, Bella.”

  “Thanks, Brad.” I don’t want to hang up the phone, but I know he’s busy. I know he’s not even supposed to be talking to me. If his father had any idea, we would both be in grave danger. I know everything I want to say to him can wait until he’s here. “It would’ve meant a lot to her. Knowing you cared.”

  “I’ll never let you down, Bella,” he says with a sniffle, and I quickly hang up, crying so hard I choke as I toss the phone to the ground.

  2

  Ransom:

  “Not exactly Vegas.” I shake out my rubbery legs after the six hour ride through the mountains of West Virginia. “We could’ve gone anywhere in the country, brother, and this is it?”

  Kid’s counting down the last days of his freedom. He’s got a warrant out for his arrest and he’s looking at twenty-five years, at least, unless he rolls over on the club. Every time he leaves the house he takes a calculated risk he might get picked up and tossed in jail.

  I’m pretty fucking depressed over the whole deal. Kid’s about the only person holding the MC together right now and losing him is like losing a limb. We’ll get used to it, but it’s going to fucking suck.

  “Vegas is straight-up trash,” he says. “Everything smells like vomit and plastic. Gotta get some fresh air while I can.”

  “I’m just waiting for the banjos to start.” I pull a cigarette out of my pocket and put it between my lips. The random little dive bar looks like it’s about to fall in on itself. The foundation is slanted into the ground and half the shingles are missing from the roof. I can’t imagine the inside is much better than the outside. How he even knows about this place is beyond me, but it’s definitely not the kind of place he usually hangs out at. Definitely not my scene, either.

  For Kid, I’ll deal with it.

  “You gotta enjoy your freedom while you can, too, Ran,” he says, patting me on the back. “Your leash is about to get a million times tighter.”

  I grin from ear to ear. I know he’s not kidding. Seven months from now, everything in my life is going to change. It’s not just gonna be about me anymore. My girlfriend, Carley, is pregnant, and even though shit’s been rocky between us, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make it work. I’m not gonna let my child grow up without knowing his father.

  I’m gonna be the best dad in the whole fucking world.

  For once in my life I’m proud of something I accomplished.

  “You’re really something else, man,” he says. “You better wipe that shit-eatin’ grin off your face before we get inside or people are gonna think there’s something wrong with you.”

  “What the fuck are we doing here anyway?” From outside the front door the smell of raunchy old frier oil and stale beer makes me gag. I’m not a fancy guy by any means. I can throw down like the best of them. Everything about this is weird, though. I don’t even know what town we’re in, and he’s acting like this is his normal hangout spot. “I’m not trying to get in a fight.”

  “Relax,” he says, holding the door open for me. Of course everyone turns and stares at us when we walk in. We stand out like two sore thumbs in our leather cuts.

  The walls are draped with American flags, and some old country song twangs from the jukebox. The floor is sticky under my boots. An old guy with a giant white beard and long straggly white hair who looks like Santa Claus on a serious bender sits at the end of the bar puffing on a cigar, flipping through the newspaper as he nurses a beer. He gives Kid a nod, and Kid waves back before walking up to the bar and pulling up a stool.

  As soon as the bartender walks out from behind the swinging doors in the back, any question I had in my mind about him wanting to come here disappears. I’m not one to let a bitch catch me off guard, but this woman is like nobody I’ve ever seen before. Her hair is blacker than the pavement, thick and curly. Her eyes are just as dark, and her face spattered in freckles. My chest tightens a little bit, and for a second I forget I’m not the single carefree guy I was just a few short months ago.

  She comes out from behind the bar and walks straight over to Kid, wrapping her arms around him. The way he tucks his head into her chest, the way they whisper to each other, both on the verge of tears, I feel like I’m watching something I’m not supposed to see.

  Whatever it is makes me feel kind of jealous. Kid’s not exactly known for being some kind and sweet guy.

  “I’m sorry, Ransom,” he says, clearing his throat. “This is Bella. She’s been a friend of mine for a long time now.”

  “Well what the hell you doing hiding her from us?” I ask with my signature smile and wink. She bites her lip and blushes a little bit. I didn’t think she could get any more gorgeous, but there’s something about this bitch that just radiates sexiness. Maybe it’s the mystery, maybe it’s the way she moves like she’s queen of this place. She definitely doesn’t belong here. She belongs on the back of my bike.

  “You guys want a drink?” she asks, lining up three rocks glasses on the bar and grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf.

  “I’ll take one. He’s pregnant, though.” Kid nods over at me with a toothy smile, and I get the picture. This hidden gem is his. I’m just here to play wingman. “His girl’s knocked up. He can’t be drinking and driving.”

  She cocks her head and shrugs, and I don’t know if I’m just reading into things, but I think I see a little flicker of disappointment in those dark eyes. Something about her is straight-up intoxicating. No wonder Kid’s willing to travel all the way out here to see her.

  He’s right, though. I want to make things work with Carley more than anything in the world now that she’s having my baby. No more of this one-night stand shit. No more messing around.

  “Can I get a water?” I ask.

  “You can have whatever you want, babe,” she says, grabbing a water bottle from the cooler and setting it in front of me. Every time she opens her mouth it’s like she’s stabbing me in the heart just a little bit, breaking down my resolve just a little bit. I don’t know who this girl is, but she reminds me way too much of a younger version of myself. A version of myself back before I was t
ied down. It’s fucking infuriating.

  She throws back a shot of vodka with Kid, shaking out her long curly hair and cringing.

  “You better take it easy over there, woman,” the Santa-Claus-looking motherfucker says. “Gonna be a long night and I don’t feel like having to peel you up off the floor later.”

  “Fuck off, Turtle,” Kid says. “Let the girl live a little bit.”

  He grumbles and goes back to his newspaper and the two of them crack up.

  “I’m lost, guys,” I say.

  “It’s alright, baby,” she says, brushing her hand over my face. “We’re all a little lost here.” The way she raises her eyebrows and grazes her teeth with her tongue is nothing short of frustrating. She’s pushing all my buttons and she fucking knows it.

  Deep breaths. New baby. You have no idea who this bitch is. Carley will be around forever.

  “I’m gonna take my break now, Turtle. Will you keep an eye on this fellow so Kid and I can talk?”

  I breathe out a sigh of relief. She doesn’t give a shit about me anyway. She’s just playing the game. I can only wonder how Kid got so lucky to get tangled up with a woman like that.

  “Whatever,” Turtle mumbles. “Don’t be too long.”

  She salutes him and Kid follows her out the door as I sit there and study the label on my water bottle. So much for wingman. I’ve effectively turned into the third wheel for the first time in my adult life.