Deliciously Damaged Read online

  Deliciously Damaged

  Reckless Bastards MC

  By USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author

  KB Winters

  Copyright © 2018 KB Winters and BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC

  Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 KB Winters and BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Contents

  Deliciously Damaged

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Prologue

  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

  Author's Note

  Plush

  Wonderfully Wicked Sneak Peek!

  Free Book!

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Prologue

  Mandy ~ Six months ago

  I couldn’t believe it. Not again. Seventeen years after I stood in this same cemetery and said goodbye to my parents, I was here again, this time to bury my brother. My hero. Everyone called him Ammo because he loved guns, even as a kid. But he was just Mikey to me, and he’d been taken from me, thanks to another pointless war, far too soon. I didn’t even know how I’d survive without him. If I’d survive without him. He’d been my mom and dad, my best friend and my protector. He was my everything. And now, he was fucking gone.

  Life was so unfair, a fact I knew all too well, but today I just wanted to rail about it to anyone who’d listen. But Ammo was in the ground, which meant there wasn’t anyone who’d listen, much less give a damn, so I kept my grief hidden behind a pair of knock-off Chanel sunglasses I’d picked up from a street vendor in the garment district. Not that there was anyone here to share my grief with anyway. Ammo had spent most of his adult life in the Army, so many of his friends were either dead or still in the fucking desert. The rest of them, his motorcycle club buddies, the Reckless Bastards, hadn’t been given an invitation.

  Except for one, anyway.

  I didn’t have anything against the Reckless Bastards; I didn’t know them and honestly, I didn’t care to. The last thing I needed was more reminders of all the family I’d lost. This third plot, that slowly filled with dirt and had yet another date of death engraved on the dark headstone, was all the reminder I needed. I was alone in the world. Not even thirty and on my own.

  It wasn’t the first time. When Ammo first joined the Army, I was a teenager left on my own. It’d taken some getting used to since my brother had always been there to make sure there was food in the fridge for me to cook and cleaning products so I could take care of the house while he was off with his ‘club.’ But Ammo had forgotten some of the details and after a few months there was no more money. Then no lights, no water and eventually, no food. I found my resolve and a fake I.D. They both helped me find a way to make it work until I finished high school and decided on my future.

  Leaving Las Vegas had been liberating, and as much as I’d missed it, being back to bury my brother wasn’t exactly the homecoming I’d envisioned. Luckily, I wasn’t here to stay.

  I sighed as the cemetery workers shoveled dirt over Ammo’s body, no longer able to hold my tears inside. They slid silently down my cheeks, the most energy I could dedicate to crying, because I hadn’t sobbed since I’d stood here years before, when Mom and Dad were lowered into the ground.

  I couldn’t imagine a world where I couldn’t pick up the phone to call my brother or send him a silly care package full of his favorite blondies and old action figures that his Army buddies would tease him about. I couldn’t call for advice or receive a middle of the night phone call on my birthday. With a hand over my chest so I could feel the cool metal of his dog tags against my skin, I bent and picked up a handful of dirt, sprinkling it on top of the smooth pine casket. “Goodbye, Mikey. I love you.”

  On shaky legs, I walked through the cemetery and back to where my rental car waited for me.

  “Excuse me!”

  I knew that voice; I’d heard it a few times when Ammo was between tours. I stood taller and turned to the vaguely familiar voice. “Yes?”

  “Is there, uhm … is there anything I can do for you?” He seemed nervous which was out of character for the cocky, boisterous man I remembered, but then again death had a way of making even the toughest person crumble.

  I shook my head because the only thing I wanted was to have my brother back. “No but thank you.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe you want some help clearing up Ammo’s things?”

  I laughed at his uneasy demeanor. The Savior I knew was never nervous. Everything about the man had always screamed confidence. “I’m not here about his possessions.” If there was one person on the planet who might know Ammo better than me, it was Savior.

  He blinked, staring hard as though he was trying to place me. Figure me out. “How about a drink then, to toast one of the best men I knew?”

  “I have a bottle of Irish whiskey at his house, if you want a glass.”

  “You’re staying at his house?” he asked, his voice filled with surprise. “He never said anything about having a woman.”

  I could have corrected him, but it kind of stung that he didn’t remember me when he’d left such an indelible mark on my memory. I was no longer the same little girl with lopsided blonde pigtails and skinned knees. I’d chopped off my hair and dyed it, so I had a white-blonde pixie thing going on. It was perfect for spending long hours in a hot kitchen, and it was easy to maintain. But I didn’t look all that different. “Since he doesn’t have one, I’m not surprised.”

  He laughed and flashed a charming smile that was concealed by a thick, brown beard that gave him a rakish air. “Okay, then, whoever you are. I’m Savior.”

  I smiled politely. “Nice to meet you.” Again. “So, that drink?”

  “I’ll meet you there. I know the place well.”

  I smiled and slid into the rental, wondering what his reaction would be when he finally realized who I was. His best friend’s kid sister.

  ***

  “Shit. Fuck. Shit, shit, fuck … goddammit!”

  I woke up to the sound of a deep, angry and totally male voice, grunting curse words into the early morning air. It took a moment to fully wake up and realize who and what was happening, but when I did, I groaned. “Keep it down.”

  “You should have fucking told me,” the angry male said.

  Wide awake
now, I sat up with no thoughts about modesty even as his blue eyes tracked down to my chest. “Told you what, exactly?”

  His look turned dark and not in the sexy way he’d devoured me last night before we got naked and then got lost in our collective grief. “That you’re Ammo’s fucking sister!”

  Now angry, I stood and fisted my hands on my hips. “How in the hell would I know you didn’t recognize me? Do you make a habit of fucking people you barely know?” I held up a hand because I really did not want to know the answer to that. “I don’t care. It’s done, and we can’t change it, but if you have that much of a problem with it, you should leave.”

  He spluttered, outraged and obviously feeling guilty. It was displayed all over his handsome, angry face. Too bad for him I didn’t give a flying fuck about his guilt.

  “You’re Ammo’s kid sister.”

  “Yeah and he’s dead so it doesn’t matter!” That reminder had tears pricking behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I couldn’t. If I started crying now, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to stop and that was something I couldn’t afford to do. I had to be strong. Well, stronger. I was on my own now. There was no soft place to land, no parachute to guide me down and no fallback plan. So, I pushed down those tears and stared him down. “I want you to leave.”

  He stared for so long I thought he might refuse, but I should have known better. Savior had ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ written all over his face. “I’m sorry, Mandy. I shouldn’t have let that happen. It was a mistake.”

  “Got it,” I told him and wrapped my arms around my waist. I wouldn’t let him see how his words gutted me. Nothing like the sting of cold hard rejection to soothe the ache of loss, right? “Then leaving, right now, shouldn’t be a problem.”

  He nodded and stepped into his jeans, because apparently that was appropriate funeral attire for the Reckless Bastards. “Do you need anything?”

  “Only for you to leave.”

  “But -”

  I shook my head. “Just leave.” There was nothing else to say and even if there was, I had no interest in talking to him. I had one day to get what was left in my childhood home packed up and ready for the realtor to put it on the market, before heading back to New York to finish up my pastry apprenticeship. I had six weeks to go, and then I would return to Vegas and start working at Knead, the best damn place for pastries in the whole state.

  And pretend the last twenty-four hours never happened.

  Chapter 1

  Mandy

  It’s been months since I made the move back to Las Vegas, but it still felt surreal being here. No matter where I went, the supermarket, the hairdresser, the park, I expected to see Ammo’s loose-legged walk and dimpled smile coming my way, a smart retort on the tip of his tongue. But working at Knead kept me busy, which I needed in order to keep me from succumbing to the darkness that always seemed to hover around the edges of my life. Right now, my life was boring and completely predictable and I knew that sounded terrible, but to me it was perfect.

  I’d plenty of excitement in my life. Losing both of my parents tragically and then my brother, living on the streets of Las Vegas while said brother was off fighting a war that hadn’t yet taken him from me. So, boring suited me just fine. I didn’t go out on my days off from work, just relaxed at home catching up on chores, my favorite television shows and reading trashy romance. Some days it felt as though I would die of boredom but it would be preferable to dying any other way.

  But even the work day had to end, and at a little after seven I removed my apron and chef hat, grabbed my bag, and exited through the back of the restaurant. The parking lot wasn’t all that well lit, but I had pepper spray on my keychain and my biggest key clutched between my fingers, a trick all girls from the big city learn early. Or else.

  “Yo, Mandy!”

  I froze at the sound of my name. Other than the people at Knead, I didn’t know anyone in this city any longer, which meant it was someone I used to know. I turned slowly, ready to pounce if I needed to. Instead I only had to bite back a groan at the sight of my former friend, and I mean that in the loosest definition of the word.

  “Krissy.”

  She hadn’t changed much in the last decade, a little older with a few gray sprouts, more noticeable because of her shiny black hair. She had a few fine lines around her pale blue eyes and she was thinner than she used to be, but otherwise she looked exactly the same.

  “I heard you were back.”

  “I am.”

  I left this place ten years ago and she was a big part of the reason why. I did plenty of shit I wasn’t proud of back then, all in the name of survival, and I didn’t regret it. For me though, it couldn’t go on forever. Using a fake I.D. in a city like this was asking for trouble. And card counting? Plenty of people had ended up buried in the desert for that particular sin. I had a knack for counting cards even as a teenager, and Krissy was quick to pick up on it and capitalize on it. She finagled a way to get me the I.D. so we could take the casinos for enough cash to make it from one month to the next.

  “How’ve you been?” She looked at me now, the same way she did when I was sixteen and alone for the first time in my life. Like a predator who found the biggest, juiciest target just lying around.

  “I’m good, Krissy. You?”

  “Better now that you’re back. I missed you.”

  I snorted my disbelief at that. “Right. What’s this about?”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “No, I don’t. We were useful to each other, but that’s it. If you leave, you’re dead to me. Remember?” She’d said those words to me the night before I put this fucking town in my rear view. Krissy wanted to scam and scheme forever. Not me. I wanted more out of life.

  She brushed the words away with a dismissive flip of her hand. “I was upset.” She smiled in the way she used to do that I’d always mistook for care. It was plain old manipulation. “How long have you been back?”

  “A while.”

  “You weren’t going to look me up?”

  “No.”

  I’d hopped on a bus that took me all the way to the other side of the country but I’d only gotten as far as Colorado before I realized Krissy wasn’t my friend. And had never been my friend.

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing I found you because –”

  I held up a hand. “You can stop right there. I didn’t come back for you or for that and I’m not doing it, so whatever you’re thinking you better find someone else.” I walked away, still staring at Krissy because I didn’t trust her as far as I could throw her scrawny ass.

  “It’s like that now?”

  I nodded and her friendly smile hardened. “I need your help.”

  “I can’t help you.”

  “You can,” she insisted.

  “Fine, then I won’t.” She glared at me and walked away. I had a feeling, though, it wouldn’t be the last I saw of the woman who taught me that no one could be trusted.

  By the time I made it back to the shithole apartment I rented, I was in a bad mood and ready to fight someone. Anyone. I hated seeing Krissy again, reminding me of who I used to be. More importantly, of how stupid and naïve I used to be. Never again.

  “Ugh!” I said out loud to the closet as I kicked off my shoes. I hated that seeing her brought up all those memories and emotions. Feelings I’d worked hard to bury ever since a certain blue-eyed biker reminded me why feelings were total bullshit.

  I made a sub and killed three beers while I binge-watched TV until I passed out on the sofa. I’d nearly made it a full night without thinking about Ammo.

  ***

  My first day off in almost two weeks and I’d decided to spend it tracking Savior down. I must be out of my mind to willingly face the source of my greatest rejection. But I knew returning my brother’s leather vest with the Reckless Bastards insignia to his other family would mean a lot to Ammo. Which meant it was, literally, the least I could do.

  Afte
r I spent the morning cleaning my apartment, doing a load of laundry and picking up groceries, I jumped in my used blue sedan and made my way to the converted airplane hangar that was their clubhouse. The closer I came to the frosted glass doors, the more anxious I became and with a striking blonde standing sentry at the door, overnight shipping seemed like a better option. Then she turned her head toward the sun and a serene smile tilted her full lips. “Now that’s a smile I’d kill to have,” I told her honestly, startling her.

  “You can have the smile, it was as phony as a two-dollar bill.”

  Funny. I introduced myself because I wasn’t a caveman and because I wanted to assure her I wasn’t here to snag one of her biker boyfriends. “Mandy.”

  “Teddy,” she said. “I’m Teddy and I’m only here because my babysitter made me come.” Her smile was genuine this time, filled with a hint of sarcasm and mischief.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a real conversation like this with another woman, or with anyone really. Despite the sexist views of society that women belonged in the kitchen, professional kitchens were dominated by men. Even on the pastry side, dicks ruled the world. But Teddy was edgy and kind of snarky, a contrast to her classic beauty. “I’m just here to return something to … the club.” No need to mention Savior.

  Her eyes flashed with recognition and we spent a few minutes discussing the write-up I’d gotten and asking me about wedding cakes. She wanted something special for a friend, wanted to know if I was up for it.

  I nodded and she said, “My bag is inside, but please don’t leave without exchanging contact info.”

  I promised, feeling awkward as a tall, gorgeous man with long blond hair exited and took a protective stance behind her. “Nice to meet you,” I told her and steeled my nerves to go inside when Savior came out. “Just the person I came to see.”

  “Mandy? What are you doing here?” He looked at me warily, like I was planning to make a scene. Typical man. Give him one night of hot sex and he thinks you’re ready to wear his ring.

  “Don’t worry,” I told him as he led me to escape a loud gang of partiers. We found our way down a dark hall to a stark room with a twin bed, a dresser and photos of bikini-clad women on the wall. “I’m not here for a repeat performance. This was in some of the things I put in storage after the funeral. I know Ammo would want you guys to have it.” I handed him the jacket, making sure our fingers didn’t touch at all. That was a temptation I didn’t need or want.