The sins of the biker su.., p.1
The Sins Of The Biker : Sub Rosa MC - Book 1, page 1
J.A. Collard
Sins of the Biker
Sub Rosa MC Book 1
Part of: Mayhem Makers – Motorcycles, Mobsters and Mayhem
J.A. Collard
Copyright 2023 J.A. Collard
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.
This book contains triggers of a violent and sexual nature.
Events in this book are fictional and are not representative of the Motorcycles, Mobsters and Mayhem signing to be held in Houston 2023.
Editing by Swish Design & Editing
Proofreading by Swish Design & Editing
Book Design by Swish Design & Editing
Cover Design by CT Cover Creations
Cover Image Copyright 2023
All Rights Reserved
Blurb
Motorcycles, Mobsters, and Mayhem author event proudly presents The Mayhem Makers Series.
These standalone novels are brought to you by several bestselling authors specializing in writing twisted chaos. You’ll get all the bikers, mobsters, and dark romance your heart can handle.
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Pride, Covetousness, Lust, Anger, Gluttony, Envy, and Sloth
The seven deadly sins.
Sins I know I’m guilty of most days.
Lust, anger, and, most of all, envy—these three sins keep me awake at night.
Envy of the man who got the girl I’ve loved all my life. The girl I promised I would take care of forever and always. The girl I hoped I would have a future with, would take my name, and have my children.
But I was wrong.
My dreams ended the day my father was killed, and I had to step up as President of the Sub Rosa MC, a job I didn’t want but was forced into taking.
Serena said she would wait for me and give me time to settle a score that could ultimately lead to my death. But she didn’t.
Instead, she chose to marry the one man who ruined my life and took my family—Luca Clemente.
Gone is that sweet boy who promised her love, hope, and a future.
Instead, he’s been replaced with a proud man wanting Serena to pay for choosing the enemy over me.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the readers at the Motorcycles, Mobsters, and Mayhem signing. Hope you enjoy reading about Harley and Serena and the obstacles that they face. The sins of the biker will continue in the second book titled - The Biker’s Redemption.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Acknowledgments
Connect With Me Online
About the Author
Chapter One
HARLEY
Seven deadly sins—sins I know I’m guilty of most days.
To tell my story, I need to go back to the beginning—the first time I saw Serena.
I was sixteen years old, in my prime, and had just become a prospect for my father’s motorcycle club—the Sub Rosa MC—something I had been fighting for since I was a kid.
My father, the good man he was, didn’t want me associated with the club that way. He always wanted a better life for me and to make a career of working in the corporate world.
He was sure a lawyer would be a good suit, maybe so I could get him out of a jam if the situation ever arose. I wanted to make him proud and make something of myself, but that wasn’t the life for me. Even though I knew my mom didn’t want me to follow in my father’s footsteps, I couldn’t do this for her or my dad.
No, I needed to do this for myself.
The club was in my blood.
Although my parents did not allow me to hang around there as a kid, I practically spent most of my childhood at the clubhouse.
My cousin, Olivia, was my age, and we were close. Her father was and still is the sergeant at arms and also my mom’s brother. We were as thick as thieves and got into all kinds of mischief, like sneaking into the club when our dads weren’t watching or stealing some alcohol and cigarettes and hiding them in our jackets until we were on the roof of the building, where we would smoke and drink from the bottle, each of us taking turns.
But there were days when our dads were in a good mood and allowed us to hang around in the main room. This was where all the parties were held, and I saw things that a boy my age shouldn’t have seen, but it opened my eyes to club life.
They would warn us not to drink any alcohol or enter any rooms with closed doors, and I could never understand why we couldn’t enter a room. But now that I’m older, it’s abundantly clear why. Almost every night, a club member would have a woman in there, and this involved a lot of fucking, something my old man didn’t want me to see.
I had never seen my old man head to his room with a woman, which was a good thing. He loved my mom and used to say she was all the woman he could handle, and I loved that about them. Their love, that is. It’s something I wanted for myself in the future.
The club members held their meetings in the room with large engraved wooden doors out front, representing a place where they conduct business—a place called church but not the prayer kind.
Back then, it didn’t bother Liv and me when they were in that room because we sneaked some beer and hung out on the rooftop drinking it.
Some days, I would end up drunk and have to go home and explain to my mom why I reeked of beer. I always blamed the motorcycle club and said that the odor must have washed over me.
I had my first cigarette at eleven years old. It was the same for Liv. However, she couldn’t keep the smoke down. She would cough and splutter everywhere, but I loved it. So I continued to sneak a smoke when I could. What my folks didn’t know wouldn’t kill them.
I used to think I was so damn cool with a smoke in one hand and a beer in the other, and the kids at school thought Liv and I were the luckiest kids alive because we got to hang around a club. They didn’t know our parents forbade us to go there on most days.
Our parents tried to give us the best education money could buy by sending us to one of the best schools in Houston, but no matter how much money they threw away at the school, it didn’t stop Liv and me from ditching classes almost every day.
My mom also hoped I wouldn’t follow in my father’s footsteps. She did everything she could to keep me from the club, making me do chores around the house and sending me to a Portuguese language school so I could learn the tongue of my heritage, but nothing she did helped. I guess, after all this time, my parents finally accepted my wishes, and on my sixteenth birthday, I was voted in as prospect—the beginning of my life as a club member.
I initially expressed my anger. I mean, I’m the son of the president. Why do I have to start out as a prospect? But I guess if I didn’t, it would be considered favoritism, and all new members have to start at the beginning, so I shut my mouth and accepted the role.
On the morning of my sixteenth birthday, my old man opened the door to church for me for the first time and allowed me access to the room with its engraved wooden doors and a wooden table where club business was discussed.
As the president of the club, my father seated himself at the head of the table with a gavel in his hand, just like a judge. Anytime a member would get out of hand, my old man smashed the gavel down, causing everyone to pay attention.
As a prospect, you’re not usually invited into church until you’re a full member. Your job is to get them what they need and do anything that was asked of you, but today they asked me to come in. At first, I thought they found out about the car I had stolen the night before and hid in the garage at home to pull it apart and sell for parts, but I was wrong. I was always getting into shit like that.
I had entered and stood at the other end of the table while the others sat in their reserved seats.
My old man got up from his chair, walked around the table, grabbed my palm, and placed something in it. When I opened my hand, I noticed it was a patch with the word ‘prospect’ and the image of the Sub Rosa MC logo—a skeleton with a halo around its head.
He had embraced me, and I squeezed him tightly. Although I was
After my dad explained the law of the club, which I knew already but merely nodded at every single word, it was Wave, our Vice President, who gave me a big smile and hugged me to him. He’s a good man and is only ten years older than me.
Wave is the name we call him because he’s a damn good surfer. Growing up in California, surfing was part of his everyday life. He left California for a different life and to escape his abusive father. He never looked back. Wave bumped into my old man at a bar one night, and the rest is history, so they say.
But don’t let his sun-kissed skin, long blond hair, and pretty face fool you. He’s one of the most dangerous men I know. He would do anything for the club, and that included killing his best friend without hesitation if it came to it. Because that is what they expected of you, and there’s no doubt I would do the same.
This club is like my family.
I am an only child and had no siblings to play with besides my cousin, Liv, who is like my best friend. She’s like the brother I never had, and she hates the fact the club only allows men to join.
She said she could hold her own, just like any other man here, and I believed her. I’ve seen her punch a guy because he tried to lift her skirt when she walked past him at school. I simply shook my head and smiled, knowing what was coming. Olivia, well, Liv is what I call her for short, didn’t take shit, and I loved her for that. She was who she was, and if you didn’t like it, that was your problem. She didn’t have to prove herself to anyone or anything. The only problem is she’s incredibly beautiful, and I’m not just saying that because she’s my cousin. The length of her black hair and the intensity of her black eyes make it feel like she can see into your soul when she stares at you.
She loved the gym, and we’d go there almost every day. Sometimes, men would try to pick her up, but she handled them. I’ve tried to help her in the past when someone got a bit too handsy, but she got pissed at me because she said she didn’t need my help. I’d have to agree, but I’m protective of her, and if I needed to kick someone else’s ass, I would.
I looked older than my sixteen years. My jet-black hair and blue eyes only added to my dark looks. I’m tanned, and I get that from my Portuguese mom. The good thing about going to the gym every day is I became fit and bulked up using the weights.
When I went to buy cigarettes with Liv at the corner store, I heard a beautiful voice behind me, and that’s when I saw Serena. She was an angel at the counter helping a customer. It was the first time I had ever seen her. Trust me, if I had, I’d never forget that gorgeous face. She had a genuine smile, her skin appeared smooth, and her lips were so irresistibly tempting and begged to be kissed.
I’ve slept with a lot of older women. What do you expect? The clubhouse was filled with ladies each night, and none of them were under eighteen.
Nelly was my first, and I know what you’re thinking. She’s a cradle snatcher, but in her defense, she was nineteen, and I’d lied to her that I was eighteen. I wanted to get laid, and Nelly was hot as hell and wasn’t claimed by a brother. She was a hang-around, someone who just wanted to party with us, and I wanted to party with her.
She still visits now and then, but I’ve told her I’m not interested in anything else but a fuck. She says she’s okay with that, but my dad always warned me about hang-arounds like Nelly. Never trust what they say, especially when it comes to sex. If they say they’re on the pill, don’t take their word for it, and wear a jimmy anyway, because if they get pregnant, then it’s your responsibility as the father to take care of the child and mother. Never trust a hang-around.
Then there was Uncle Tom, Liv’s dad, the sergeant at arms. He’s a great man and one I’m proud to call my uncle. His old lady is Sarah, and although she’s not Liv’s biological mother, she’s been more like a mother than her real mom ever was. Agnes left when Liv was nine years old. She couldn’t handle the club life and wanted to take Liv with her, but Uncle Tom wouldn’t allow it. He said it was her choice to leave, but she wasn’t taking his only daughter away too. If she wanted to leave him, then she had to leave Liv too. The choice was hers, and she left.
She kept in contact with Liv, and Liv would visit her now and then, but this is her home. The Sub Rosa MC is also her family, and she would not give that up to live with her mom in Washington.
Needing to speak to the girl behind the counter, I beelined for the sexy human being, and when I reached her, her smile faded away, replaced with an irritated one.
“Yes. What do you want?”
I rested my palms on the counter and gave her one of my smiles, the one I know has women dropping their panties. It’s got something to do with my left dimple that appears, so I’ve been told. But it doesn’t work on her. She simply crossed her arms and sighed in frustration.
She has long, wavy dark brown hair, and her eyes are a mix of yellow and green, ones that can make me get lost. She shifted her gaze from mine to behind me and grinned as she said, “Liv, how are you?”
I turned my head and spotted Liv standing behind me with a magazine, a smirk on her face, and a Red Bull in her grip, something she was addicted to. She had told me I need to stop smoking, but well, her addiction was that bloody energy drink.
“Hey, Serena, I didn’t know you worked here.”
Liv placed her items on the counter and nudged me to move aside. I didn’t, though, and stood my ground.
“Yeah, unfortunately, Nicky resigned yesterday, so my dad said I had to come in and help till he found another cashier. I should be home studying for my chemistry exam.”
“Oh shit, is that tomorrow?” Liv asked her, ignoring my presence. I would have had the chemistry exam too, if they hadn’t expelled me. Lucky for me, but yet I don’t remember Serena going to Hillsborough High.
“Are you a student at Hillsborough High?” I ask, interrupting their conversation. Serena’s golden eyes locked on mine, and I could see her irritation.
Liv struck my arm. “Is this a joke, or are you being serious? You’re looking at Serena Alejandro. She walked with me to the bus stop after school and lives down the road.”
I scowled, trying to comprehend why I didn’t recognize her beauty, and it hits me in the gut. Serena Ale-ugly, that’s what we used to call her. She had braces, thick glasses, and was skinny as hell, but that was at least a year ago. They expelled me from that school after I set the chemistry room on fire. It was a dare given to me by a kid from my class who said I didn’t have the balls to light the tripod and set the piece of paper on fire. If you ever dare me to do something, you’ll regret it, because I’ll do it. The Serena in front of me today, is completely different, in a good way.
I tilted my head and said, “Serena, Ale—”
“Don’t say it,” she cut in. “Utter those words, and I won’t ever sell those cigarettes you’re about to ask me for.”
She was sassy as hell, and I liked that about her.
I couldn’t help but notice her larger breasts before I was drawn to her mesmerizing eyes.
“No, babe, I won’t call you that again.” My voice came out in a raspy whisper.
When she blushed, I smiled even wider, knowing this was all new to her. In fact, I’d bet my life on it. I’m sure nobody had ever kissed this gorgeous girl the way she should be kissed.
I promised myself that day that I would show her exactly how she deserved to be kissed.
Chapter Two
HARLEY
“You’re so goddamn tight, baby,” I hiss through my gritted teeth, watching as Serena squeezes her eyes shut as my girth stretches her tight little pussy.
Every time I’m with her, it feels like the first time all over again. I can still picture the first time I had her in my bed. She had at last submitted to my charm.
