Renascence: Death Dealers MC Book 5
Death Dealers MC
Book Five
ALANA SAPPHIRE
Copyright 2017 Alana Sapphire
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are fictitious or, if real, used fictitiously. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products or works mentioned.
Thank you for purchasing this eBook. This eBook remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. This eBook, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
Cover image by Sara Eirew Photographer
Cover models – Nick Bennett and Josée Lanoue
Cover designed by Clarise Tan at CT Cover Creations © 2017
Club logo designed by Margreet Asselbergs at Rebel Edit & Design © 2015
Edited by Hot Tree Editing
TABLE OF 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
Epilogue
Other Books by Alana Sapphire
About The Author
Renascence (noun)
– The revival of something that has been dormant.
– A revival of, or renewed interest in something.
Synonym – renaissance
CHAPTER 1
***Venom***
“Motherfucking asshole!”
Those are the words that greet me when I walk into the pet shop. Instead of Jeff, the owner, standing behind the counter, there’s a woman scowling at the screen of her phone.
“Cock-sucking bastard,” she mumbles, completely unaware of my entrance.
I’m in a good mood today. I don’t know why, but I feel amazing. Hopefully it stays that way and this chick doesn’t ruin it with her sour mood. Her eyes are still glued to her phone, so I make my presence known.
“Hey. Jeff here?”
Startled, she jumps, drops the phone, and swears. “Fuck!”
Chuckling, I approach her as she bends at the waist to pick up the phone. Unbeknownst to her, I check out her ass before she faces me. Not bad. Not bad at all.
“Shit! I mean sorry. You weren’t supposed to hear that.” When she straightens, she catches me looking. Sad to say, she’s not impressed. “Yes?” she grumbles, irritably tucking a few loose strands of blonde hair behind her ear.
Her green eyes narrow, moving over my body from head to toe. I allow her to get her fill, watching as her gaze slides over my cut and the sewn-on patches. It continues down to my silver snake belt buckle, then to the chains hanging on my hip, and finally my size twelve Doc Martens.
“I’d be more than happy to show you what’s underneath, darlin’.”
Her eyes flick to mine, head tilting to the side in annoyance. “How can I help you?” she snaps.
“Jeez. The customer service in here has gone to shit,” I joke. “I asked you if Jeff is here.”
She takes a deep breath, remorse creeping into her eyes before her stare drops to the floor.
“Sorry. It’s not you.”
“No shit.”
She looks up, the exasperation slowly returning. This time, it is me.
“Jeff isn’t here. Can I help you?” she repeats, emphasizing the question.
“I’m supposed to pick something up. Should be a box somewhere here with my name on it. Venom.”
“You’re picking up venom?” she asks, brow quirked in confused curiosity.
“No, doll.” I chuckle. “Name’s Venom.”
“Oh.” Her eyes dart back to the patch with my road name, features relaxing in understanding. “Gimme a sec.”
She disappears to the back, items knocking against each other, being picked up and dropped as she searches for my box. Sighing, I lean on the counter and wait. Where the hell is Jeff, and who is this chick? I’ve never seen her before, and I know Jeff doesn’t have any daughters. Knowing the old geezer, she has to be family for him to leave her here alone.
As I’m about to offer her my help, she screams bloody murder. Twice. Hopping over the counter, I hurry in the direction of her shrill voice. I find her jumping in place and flapping her hands in a panic.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“The box!” she shrieks.
I chuckle, realizing she’s found the one that’s mine. Picking it up, I make my way back to the front of the store. She follows, but I swear I can still hear her teeth chattering in fear.
“You weren’t supposed to open it, doll.”
“I heard sounds. It’s not a cage or anything else Uncle Jeff keeps the animals in, so I looked. Ugh.”
I glance back just in time to see a shudder make its way through her body. Uncle. I knew she had to be family. Placing the box on the counter, I scale it once more, leaving her behind the register.
“What the hell are you doing with all those rats anyways?” she asks in her adorable country-girl twang.
“Mice.”
“What?”
“They’re mice, not rats.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Lots of differences, but let’s just say rats are bigger.”
“Whatever. They’re still gross. What are you doing with them?”
“Snakes.”
Vacant eyes blink up at me while she waits for me to continue.
“I feed them to my snakes, doll.”
“You have a snake?” Her eyes widen in shock, then snap closed as she shudders again. “Eww.”
I chuckle, the memory of her initial bitchiness quickly fading.
“If you like, you can come over sometime and I’ll show him to you,” I offer, choosing not to point out that I said snakes… plural.
“Is that some kind of—” Her eyes drop to my crotch, then move back to my face. “—penis joke?”
This time I laugh.
“I’m glad you find me funny,” she adds, sarcasm dripping off her words.
I lean on the counter, getting close to her while bringing my face level with hers. Her breath catches, her lips slightly parting. That’s when I notice how gorgeous they are—plump and naturally red.
“I actually was talking about my pet, but I’ll show you whatever you want to see.” She licks her lips, taking a step back and putting some distance between us. “Trust and believe, darlin’, if I was making dick jokes, I would’ve said anaconda.” I lean in closer. “Not snake.”
She gasps, cheeks growing red. Quickly turning away, she grabs a notebook from the shelf behind her and begins flipping through the pages.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“It ain’t doll, and it ain’t darlin’, either,” she throws sass, keeping her attention on the book.
“Well, if you told me, I wouldn’t need to give you nicknames.”
She glances up, considering my words before replying, “Emily. Emily Pierce.”
“Emily.” I test her name on my tongue. I’d like to test a whole lot more than that. “You already know my name.”
“Yeah.” She continues searching the pages of the book.
“What are you looking for?”
“Uncle Jeff makes notes on who owes him what. I’m looking for you and those—” She looks to the box in contempt. “—rats.”
“You won’t find me in that book, pretty Emily.”
The compliment throws her. Meeting my eyes, she asks, “Why?”
“Jeff and I already worked it out. Call him if you don’t believe me.”
“I will.”
She closes the book, pulling her phone from her back pocket. As she dials and places it at her ear, it’s my turn to take her in. I watch her breasts rise and fall with her breathing. I’m a breast man, so I’m thinking they have to be at least a D cup. I certainly wouldn’t mind getting a mouthful of those. My gaze travels down her waist and to the flare of her hips. I imagine digging my fingers into them, sucking on her nipples as she rides me. Fuck. The woman has a body made for fucking. Lots of places to grab… to slap. That ass? Goddamn. I wouldn’t mind smacking that just to watch it jiggle.
“Did you hear me?”
Snapping out of the vision, I give her my attention. “What was that?”
“You can go. Uncle Jeff said you’re good.”
“Okay, Em.”
“Emily,” she corrects me.
“Come on, Em. I thought we were friends, sharing dick jokes and all.”
“I prefer Emily… Venom.”
With a smirk, I grab my box and head for the door. I definitely haven’t seen the last of pretty Emily.
Before I exit, I turn to find her watching me.
“By the way, tell Jeff you need some more training before he leaves you in charge again.”
***Emily***
Asshole. Just what I need, another one in my life.
Venom. Such an odd name. Well, obviously, I know that’s not the name his momma gave him. Still, I can’t deny it fits him. There’s something about him that seems slick… smooth like the way that pet snake of his slithers along a surface. With the name, the belt buckle of the coiled snake—mouth open, tongue out, fangs bared—and the actual snake, the man must have some twisted obsession with the reptile. He walked in here with his shoulder-length black hair, storm cloud-gray eyes, and an “I run the world” attitude.
I was too absorbed in the text I received earlier and didn’t hear him come in. I saw him ride away on his motorcycle, though. That thing looked powerful… a little like him. It’s black, sleek, and loud as hell. I’m surprised I didn’t hear him pull up. He’s so not my type, but I have to admit it was hot the way he rushed in to try and “save” me. He certainly seemed capable of doing it if I really was in trouble. Too bad he can’t save me from the shit show that is my life.
When he’d leaned in, I caught a whiff of his cologne, and the smell of grapefruit and sandalwood almost made me swoon. Add in the gleam in his eye and the sexy smirk he gave me, and I lost all sense of myself for a brief moment. He may not be up my alley, but I can definitely see him there—up my alley, that is. I mean, I can see the appeal in him. I can also tell he doesn’t have any problems getting women. They probably fall all over him… at his feet… in his bed. He’s good-looking and has that bad boy biker image some women can’t get enough of.
The dude’s practically a giant next to me—way over six feet—with bulging arms covered in tattoos. His gray T-shirt stretched tight against developed pecs. I bet he has a six-pack. Maybe even an eight. I can’t lie—even with clothes on, his body looked perfectly sculpted, something forged by the gods themselves. I’ve heard all the whispered stories from women about beards, and while I wouldn’t normally go for one, his is neatly trimmed and works for him. It only adds to his handsome features. If I’m honest, I’d go a round or two with him. That surprises me because it’s been a long time since I’ve had thoughts like that. Since I’ve even had any kind of interest in a man.
One of the patches on his vest said “Treasurer.” Ooh, lawd, he certainly is a treasure! However, guys like him aren’t interested in girls like me. They want hot and easy, and those I am not. The fact that he called me pretty and did some minor flirting doesn’t mean anything. He was only amused by the hysterical woman screaming at the box full of rats.
Mice.
Whatever.
A shiver runs up my spine at the thought of all those beady little eyes staring up at me from the box. Venom must have one hell of a snake back home.
I chuckle and snort at the thought. I can’t believe I brought up the whole “penis joke” thing. At least I was able to make him laugh after being a bit… surly. James always told me I didn’t have a sense of humor.
Jackass.
I push him out of my mind and start feeding the animals in the store. Uncle Jeff is doing me a favor by letting me stay with him for a while, so the least I can do is help out around here. He’s my mom’s brother, and reminds me so much of her. It’s comforting. I miss her already. Daddy, too. They’re the ones who suggested I come to Stony View to get my mind straight, and I’m going to try.
“Hey, baby girl,” Uncle Jeff greets me when he walks in some time later.
“Hey.” I kiss his cheek. “Need some help?”
I motion to the bags he’s bringing in and he shakes his head.
“I’m good. How’d it go?”
“Okay. Only the one guy came in.” I look away, hoping he can’t see my blush and praying I sound unaffected.
“So you met Venom.”
He gives me a knowing smile, making my blush deepen.
“You could’ve warned me about the rats, Uncle Jeff. I almost jumped out of my skin.”
He chuckles, going back to his truck to get more bags.
“Why don’t you take off?” he suggests when he returns. “I can manage from here.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. Go explore. It’s a small town, but we got a few places you can check out. The salon, Millie’s diner. There’s also a club not far if you wanna get out tonight.”
“Yeah, at thirty-two, I think my club days are over, Uncle.”
“Nonsense. You’re still young. Live a little.”
“I’ll think about it,” I reply, just to appease him.
I help him unpack all the bags, then grab my purse to see what Stony View, Georgia has to offer. I’ve only been here a few days, and today is the first I’ve left Uncle Jeff’s house. I thought I’d be bored out of my mind here, but I’ve liked the peace and quiet. It definitely seems like a place I could live.
Starting down Main Street, I take in the buildings, trying to commit them to memory. There’s an auto parts store, a bar, salon, and a bakery. The delectable scents drifting out of Sweet Treats send my tummy grumbling, but I quickly walk by. That’s one place I’ll be staying away from.
A few more steps and I find Millie’s, the diner Uncle Jeff told me about. I step through the door, looking up at the chimes as they tinkle above it.
“Take a seat anywhere, sugar. I’ll be right with you.”
I follow the voice, my gaze landing on a brown-haired beauty standing behind the counter. In front of her, a man is leaning forward, obviously flirting with her from the smile that’s plastered on her face. I walk to a booth, recognizing the man as I pass him—Venom. His back is to me now, and I take in the emblem on his vest. It’s a grim reaper dealing the death card from a tarot deck. “Death Dealers” sits atop it in a concave semicircle with “Georgia” below in a convex one. I have no idea what any of it means, so I try not to give it another thought.
As the waitress heads my way, Venom turns, tracking her progress. When his gaze lands on me, he smiles and follows her.
“Hi there! I’m Sheila and I’ll be your waitress today. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Just water, please,” I tell her, taking the menu she offers.
“Coming right up.”
I roll my eyes as Venom slides into the seat across from me. “Please… join me.”
I
gnoring the sarcasm in my tone, he turns up the wattage on his smile. God help me but he just became a lot more gorgeous.
“You wound me, Em.” He lays his palm over his heart. “Here I was thinking we were becoming best friends.”
“I don’t know what gave you that impression.”
“Really? Did you forget that you asked to come over and see my anaconda?”
My cheeks redden. “I did no such thing.”
He chuckles, enjoying teasing me a little too much. Sheila returns with my water, and I welcome the distraction from the man’s perfect teeth.
“Here you go, sugar. Watch yourself with this one.” She nods to Venom. “He’ll be in and out of your panties so fast, your head will spin.” She giggles.
I look between the two of them, wondering exactly what I interrupted earlier. The woman definitely looks like the type he would go for—gorgeous brown eyes and hair to match, clear, tanned skin, and a curvy body I wish I had.
“Don’t go telling stories, Sheila. You haven’t let me into yours yet,” Venom counters.
“That’s because your name ain’t Johnny, sugar.”
“Lucky motherfucker.”
Giggling again, she turns to me. “Have you had a chance to look over the menu?”
Pushing their weird exchange out of my mind, I quickly scan the menu. Everything on here probably has a million calories.
“Our special today is chicken pot pie,” Sheila offers.
“Ah… I’ll have the grilled chicken salad, no croutons, dressing on the side, please.”
“Okay. You want something, Venom?”
“I’ll have the special and a cold beer.”
“You got it!” she says as she walks away.
I raise a brow at the man sitting before me. “Seriously? It’s midday.”
“It’s five o’ clock somewhere.” He shrugs, the adage rolling off his tongue.
“Yeah, but not here.”
“You should have one, seeing as you’re not having real food. You don’t strike me as a salad girl.”
“You don’t know what kind of girl I am,” I snap.