His Crime Read online

  His Crime

  by Debra Kayn

  Book 3, Moroad MC series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  His Crime

  1st Digital release: Copyright© 2015 Debra Kayn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Debra Kayn. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  www.debrakayn.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon

  Author Bio

  Debra Kayn's Backlist

  Sample Chapter – Living A Beautiful War | Book 8, Bantorus Motorcycle Club series by Debra Kayn | Chapter One

  Dedication

  To Wheels — May we always have time for tunnels, cliffs, caves, and expensive toys. Yet remember, it's the simple things like standing on a ridge in the Bitterroot Mountains eating BLT's wrapped in foil and trespassing without getting arrested that mean the most. I literally crashed into a rock wall with you. Now it's time to go crazy.

  To Daydream Believer Book Blog – Thank you for seeing a need for readers to have a Moroad Support Group and taking time out of your busy schedule to debate, love, and tease. You've given readers of the series a place to talk over their feelings, regroup, and think outside the box.

  To Dayreader Reviews – The fan-made book trailers for Wrapped Around Him and For Life are wonderful. I've heard such fabulous feedback from readers on the quality and beauty. You nailed my books! Thank you!

  Chapter One

  Every Moroad Motorcycle Club member not in prison stood inside Cam Farrell's house. Christina Nickelson sat beside the man drawing all the attention, staring at Cam's hand sprawled over her thigh. His skin bruised from the intravenous needle used during surgery to repair his lung and remove the bullet that almost killed him.

  Against the doctor's orders and her pleading, Cam checked himself out of the hospital a week ago. She gazed up at him, making sure he still breathed. Almost losing his life had aged him.

  The deep wrinkles at the corners of his dark eyes a constant reminder of the stress and pain he dealt with every single day as president of Moroad MC. His black and gray beard brushed his chest, hiding the jaw he clenched. She could tell he ground his teeth, because the skin across his broad cheekbones twitched like the ticking of a clock.

  A week ago, her world crashed around her. Bile burned her throat. The constant fear played havoc on her stomach.

  Merk, Vice President of the MC, shot Cam. While Cam fought for his life, the Feds arrested Merk for murdering some judge in the next county over. The details remained sketchy. In the erupting chaos, she remembered the blast from the gun and watching the man she loved fall to his knees.

  Everything at that moment stilled.

  A life without Cam left her alone, losing another person she loved to a senseless murder. She'd shut down, and went through the motions. The hospital, the doctors, the FBI. She talked, she listened, and she couldn't recall a single conversation. All her thoughts centered on Cam lying in the bed, looking like death.

  "Should we change rotation for the runs?" Ring scratched the back of his neck.

  Cam's thumb strummed Christina's leg. "No. Gunner will take my place and I'll be good to go next week."

  For Cam, life moved forward. She inhaled a heavy breath, drowning in fear.

  While Cam underwent emergency surgery to repair the lung damaged by the bullet, Jeremy, Cam's eighteen-year-old son, ran away. She pressed her hand against her empty stomach. She'd broken Jeremy's trust when she'd agreed to hold Cam's secret, and now it was too late.

  Cam stole Jeremy out of the foster system and brought him home to Moroad Motorcycle Club, all for the sake of kidnapping Christina three years ago. Tiff, Jeremy's girlfriend, overhead Merk and Cam talking about the crime of forging the DNA papers on Jeremy. She moistened her lips. If only she'd stood up to Cam at the beginning when he'd confessed everything to her while he was in prison. She could've told Jeremy the truth and protected everyone.

  Jeremy would be safe.

  Merk would be free.

  Cam would be...

  She swallowed. Cam would still be Cam.

  He'd still be the man she'd anonymously written to in prison before anything bad happened.

  He'd still be the man she obsessively loved.

  He'd still be the man who'd protect her at all cost.

  What about Jeremy? She tried to understand Cam's reasons behind his crimes and still remain supportive of Jeremy. Constant doubts crept in.

  For three years, Jeremy believed Cam finally stepped forward and wanted to be his dad. He even survived Cam's latest eighteen-month sentence in prison and seemed overjoyed to sign up with Moroad to become a lifer after he graduated high school.

  Jeremy took an oath to the club. To keep Moroad members safe and free, they allowed no one to leave. Death was the only way someone could remove the Moroad Motorcycle Club patch. Jeremy's act of running away put a target on his back. He deserted his MC brothers. They'd kill him to keep their secrets safe from those who wanted to bring harm to the club.

  Conversations buzzed over her head. She slipped out from underneath Cam's hand and stood.

  "Baby?" Cam said, stopping all talk. "Where are you going?"

  She leaned down and kissed him. "I need to start dinner."

  The bikers stepped back, giving her room. She hesitated in the foyer and glanced over her shoulder. Cam turned to answer Johnson's question. She grabbed her purse off the small table and slipped out the front door while his attention diverted away from her to his Moroad brothers. She barely made it to the rocker in her escape and her stomach cramped. She sat down and drew her feet up on the chair, hugging her legs to her chest.

  If she could talk with Jeremy, make him understand the benefits of living with Cam, he'd understand and return home. While not related by blood, Cam gave Jeremy his version of a family. She loved Jeremy. Cam cared for him. The other members liked him.

  She needed to go against everything Cam wanted her to believe and find Jeremy herself. He didn't deserve to be out by himself, all alone. He belonged at
home.

  The front door opened and banged shut. She turned her head. Gunner, one of the Moroad MC members, inhaled deeply and leaned against the house.

  "Cam wants you to come inside and fix dinner, like you told him you were doing." Gunner crossed his arms. The devil tattoo on his bicep taunted her.

  "I will when I'm ready," she said, turning away from the devil.

  She believed in good, not bad.

  "Cam said you'd say that, so he wants me to bring you inside." Gunner grimaced. "I'm sorry, Christina. I need to do what my president orders."

  She unfolded her legs and stood. For the first time, she understood why she'd grabbed her purse and what she needed to do. "You're not touching me."

  Gunner stepped toward her. She moved backward, clutching her purse to her side.

  Gunner reached out for her. "Let's go in, honey."

  She slapped his hand. "I hate you."

  "No, you don't."

  "I hate all of you. I hate what Moroad stands for. You...you're all a bunch of criminals who don't give a shit about anyone, but yourself. Jeremy's missing. He's been gone for eight days, and all of you sit around the house like it's no big deal."

  "We'll find him." Gunner's gaze bore into hers. "Cam's planned to go out in the morning with the others and sweep the town. He'll bring Jeremy home."

  "He doesn't know where Jeremy is, and he can barely move around the house without hurting." She sidestepped and reached into her purse when Gunner took another step in her direction. "Tell Cam—"

  "Christina, don't do this." Gunner shook his head. "Listen to Cam."

  Her foot reached the edge of the porch. She turned, skipped the steps, and jumped down into the grass. She hit the ground running across the yard. Until Gunner had come outside to retrieve her for Cam, she hadn't made up her mind on what to do.

  She needed to find Jeremy before Cam or the Moroad MC members could kill him.

  She opened the unlocked truck, slammed the door, and hit the lock button. Gunner smacked his hand against the window. She forced the key into the ignition.

  "Christina. God damn it, open the door," Gunner said.

  The engine sputtered. "Come on, you piece of shit."

  She tried again, pumping the gas pedal. The old beast roared to life. She put the truck into gear and tore out of the driveway without looking back. Gunner would follow her, and once news of her leaving reached Cam, he'd come for her, too.

  She only needed to make it to town first. Not even Cam would risk his freedom taking her back to the house if the citizens of Federal witnessed her throwing the biggest fit she'd ever had in her life. She had ten minutes to get to town and then she'd be free of Moroad and start her search to find Jeremy.

  The truck bounced over the gravel. She glanced in the rearview mirror, holding on to the steering wheel to keep control and pushed her foot down harder on the accelerator. None of the bikers could stop her in the truck, or she'd run them over.

  She hit the asphalt road at fifty miles per hour. Airborne off the seat, she fought to keep the truck straight. Her heart raced. Paranoid Moroad members would catch her before she reached the town or she'd find the sheriff parked under the viaduct and he'd clock her going over the speed limit, she slowed down.

  The engine sputtered as she decreased her speed. She glanced behind her. Nobody followed.

  "Shit. No, no, no. One more mile. Come on." She slowed down, pampering Cam's old, unreliable truck and spotted the viaduct ahead.

  A quick study of the area, and she relaxed. The only car parked underneath the overhead concrete interstate appeared to belong to someone fishing along the river. She turned into the parking lot, grabbed her purse, and walked into town.

  Three steps forward, she looked behind her, three more steps, and she turned completely around and walked backward expecting the bikers to roll into town after her. At the end of the block in front of the Sheriff's Department, she stopped. The muscles in her thighs burned from the exertion of speed walking and her anxiety tripled over leaving the house without protection from the club.

  Men's voices came from behind her. She whirled around and stared at Sheriff Colby and one of his deputies leaving the building. Caught in a panic, she smiled—unable to stop her chin trembling.

  Sheriff Colby walked down the four steps to the sidewalk, tilted his head, and studied her. "Christina, is everything okay?"

  The deputy walked to his patrol car parked at the curb. She glanced at the sidewalk, across the street at the parking lot in front of Country Mart, up the road to the bank across from her old apartment, and over to the viaduct. Her shoulders rolled forward. Only vehicles and ATV's moved along the street. No motorcycle, no scary looking bikers, no black leather boots stomping their way toward her.

  Katie and Lola, two of the Moroad women who hung around the house whenever the members got together to party, walked out of Cleo's Coffee Cave talking and carrying a red coffee cup. She stared, willing them to look across the street, to see her devastation over losing Jeremy, and offer to help.

  But her friends rounded the corner, caught up in a private conversation, and walked out of her sight without spotting her in town. She sucked in air. Ten minutes away from the club and no one cared. No one looked for her. No one understood how deeply Cam's crime affected her life.

  "Christina?"

  She turned back around. "What?"

  Unable to accept they'd all abandoned her, she strained to hear the rumble of a motorcycle engine. She squinted, peering down the road. Cam allowed her to run away.

  Why would Cam keep Gunner from following her and bringing her back home? She rocked back on her heels and pressed her hand to her forehead.

  Sheriff Colby blocked her view. "Christina, are you okay?"

  She blinked, clearing her vision. All her effort and energy disappeared. She'd failed in her attempt to bait Cam into coming after her and in turn, finding Jeremy.

  "I'm fine." She cleared her breathless voice and tried again. "I'm fine."

  Sheriff Colby led her over to the steps in front of the department's front door, out of the middle of the sidewalk. "I'm concerned about you. A lot has happened out at the Moroad MC's headquarters, and—"

  "Excuse me." She stepped back. "Everything is fine, sheriff. I have errands to run."

  Escaping the concern over her well-being, she strode down the sidewalk. She had no idea where she needed to go. Jeremy had to be somewhere close. He wouldn't leave Federal. Deep in her heart, she believed he'd stay within the vicinity of where he belonged.

  At the end of the block, she looked across the street to Cleo's Coffee Cave, letting her gaze wander up to the top windows where she used to live. Jacko, a recent parolee and member of Moroad MC, now lived in her old apartment. Had he already received a call from Cam with news she'd left the house? Was he watching?

  She shaded her eyes with her hand and studied the glass. The building across the street reflected off the surface, blinding her to anyone inside.

  A rumble of a motorcycle caught her attention, pulling her away from the apartment. She sucked in her breath and turned. Her instant relief at hoping Cam came for her turned to nausea. The rider belonged to Bantorus Motorcycle Club, not Moroad MC.

  Ink, along with his old lady owned Silver Girls—an adult dance club, rode past her. She stopped walking, lost in the consequences of her actions. For almost three years, she'd disassociated herself with the monstrous crimes Cam and Moroad brought into her life.

  Her erratic beating heart choked her, drying her mouth. She swallowed. Caught between the disappointment of no one coming for her and the guilt she carried over Jeremy's absence, she stood lost and alone on the sidewalk. She could've demanded Cam treat Jeremy better or insisted Cam confess to the crime of stealing him out of the county's system before putting a life patch on him. She could've stopped the downward spiral of men losing their life, Merk ending up in prison, Cam being shot.

  "Excuse me." A gentle touch made her jump. "Are you okay?"
>
  An older gentleman lowered his head and peered at her through the eyeglasses perched on the end of his nose. Fear crawled up her throat. She nodded.

  "Are you sure?" the stranger asked.

  "Yes." She pulled away and wandered across the street.

  Her eyes stung. Her ears roared. She swiped at her wet cheeks, realizing for the first time tears rained down her face and she had no idea when she'd started crying.

  She continued walking. One block, two blocks, three blocks.

  She cut across the street and entered the Federal Inn. She stood at the check-in desk, passed money over the counter, and grabbed a key hooked to a large plastic ring. The woman's hand pointed over Christina's shoulder to the left. She followed the directions and rode the elevator up to the second floor.

  In Room 26, she sat on the bed and pulled her cell out of her purse. She stared at the unlit screen. The pounding in her head worsened. Contradicting thoughts invaded common sense.

  Cam hadn't called or texted.

  She wanted him, despite knowing he'd put her in the position of accepting whatever crime he committed next. What kind of person wanted the love of a felon?

  She set the phone down on the bed and whispered, "He'll come for me."

  The Moroad members were probably talking Cam into staying home, while they came looking for her. Cam's wound still bothered him. He struggled for his next breath when he overexerted himself. They hadn't had sex in over a week.

  His main goal of going after Jeremy pushed him into taking care of himself, and she loved him for his dedication to the family.

  Yet, his determination to deal with Jeremy scared her. Her legs trembled. She had to find Jeremy first and explain the ramifications of leaving Moroad MC, before Cam ended up killing him.

  Once she found Jeremy and he went back to Moroad, she'd worry about her punishment. There was no doubt Cam would make her pay for leaving him. He'd never let her escape.

  Chapter Two

  The constant ache from the two sets of stitches holding the gunshot wound and the incision from surgery at his side closed spread along Cam's ribs. He shrugged on his Moroad MC vest and swayed, catching himself on the porch railing. He held his breath until he overcame the pain. The second Christina left him; she'd gone against his orders never to leave him.