OLIN Read online

  OLIN

  A Brikken Motorcycle Club Saga

  By

  Debra Kayn

  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.

  OLIN

  A Brikken Motorcycle Club Saga

  1st Digital release: Copyright© 2018 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

  PART 1 | 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

  Part 2 | 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

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Part 3 | Chapter Thirty Seven

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty One

  Chapter Forty Two

  Chapter Forty Three

  Chapter Forty Four

  Chapter Forty Five

  Epilogue

  Author Bio

  Debra Kayn's Backlist

  Sneak Peek | Wrapped Around Him | Moroad Motorcycle Club series, book 1 | Chapter One

  Dedication

  Latoya, Jane, and Tina — Thank you for all the polishes and the looks from the other side.

  PART 1

  Chapter One

  THE FRONT DOOR OPENED and shut. Olin forked the cooked hamburger patty out of the skillet and put it on the bun. Whoever came over was on their own for dinner. He'd only made enough food for himself.

  "God, Olin. The kitchen is full of smoke."

  Ashley Thompson's feminine voice filled his house with sweetness despite the edge in her tone. The same voice that'd been branded in his head twenty-four/seven since he was twenty years old. That was a hell of a long time, considering he was pushing the backend of forty-five years old.

  He squirted the ketchup bottle drawing circles over the meat and ignored Ashley as she rushed behind him and opened the window over the sink.

  "It's going to take a week to get the smell out of your house," said Ashley.

  He picked up his plate and carried it into the living room, leaving Ashley to whatever her problem was today. Depending on the time of the month, the hour, or if the fucking moon was in Jupiter, her moods changed faster than he could keep up with lately.

  Olin sat down, turned on the television, and kicked his boots up on the coffee table. Two boxers punched it out on the screen, and he picked up his burger and took a bite. He'd worked all day in the garage of Brikken Motorcycle Club without stopping to eat lunch, and he was starving.

  "There's a link between charred meat and cancer." Ashley sat down on the couch beside him. "I've told you that before."

  He took another bite to piss her off. No matter what he did, Ashley had an opinion. If he took a shower, he washed parts of his body in the wrong order. If she was over, she educated him on how to separate his jeans from his T-shirts when he threw clothes in the washer—like it mattered. Two nights ago, she marched across the backyard to pick one measly weed out of the yard that'd bloomed.

  "Okay, I can see you're not in the mood to talk." Ashley slouched on the couch and crossed her legs.

  The tip of her high heel brushed his calf. His body tensed and he followed the bare skin up to the short skirt. Unable to stop looking, he raised his gaze to the cleavage showing between the edges of a see-through top. Her new job wouldn't require her to wear heels and dressy clothes.

  "Where are you going?" He finished the last bite of hamburger and leaned forward, putting the empty plate on the coffee table.

  "Out," she said.

  "With who?" He stood, unable to sit on the couch beside her any longer.

  "What do you mean, with who?" Ashley huffed out an irritated breath. "It's my business. Not yours."

  "Right." He walked out of the room.

  Their last argument last night centered around him telling her that who he hung around with was his business, not hers. He walked into the garage. Apparently, she was still miffed and believed turn around was fair play.

  The door behind him never shut. Ashley hurried down the two steps after him. "I told you last night if you wanted to do something with me, you had to ask before I made definite plans."

  "I'm not asking." He removed the duffle off the back of his Harley.

  Ashley stood with her hip out. "That's why I'm going out without you."

  "Then, go out." He pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

  She crossed her arms making her cleavage swell and deepen. He took his fill and ignored the drink.

  Her hand covered the softness, trying to block his view. He growled and stepped toward her. She couldn't keep what belonged to him.

  He'd had his mouth on every inch of her body. Knew her flavor. Knew every dimple. Knew exactly where his lips could make her gasp.

  He'd been fucking Ashley since she was sixteen years old. Now at thirty-nine years old, Ashley still made him hot for her. Hot enough, he wanted to settle down, and he wanted that to happen with her.

  Except she dragged her feet and came up with too many excuses. She was waiting for perfect, and perfect wouldn't happen in his life.

  They couldn't get along for longer than twenty-four hours without causing a scene, but they sure made sweet love.

  "Olin...don't." She backed up, swinging her long, dark brown hair behind her shoulder.

  Her temper made her body shake in all the right places. He stepped forward. She bumped into the tire of his motorcycle, unable to escape. His chest swelled in anticipation, knowing there was no place for her to go.

  She groaned and contorted her body, trying to view the back of her short skirt for any stains. Using her distraction, he swooped in, wrapping his arm around her slim waist, and hauled her up against his body.

  "Olin." She pressed her hands against his chest. "You're going to get grease on me."

  He squeezed her ass with both hands, tugging her against his hardness. "Say it, Ash."

  She shook her head, pouting her full lips. He brought her up tighter against him, not letting her make any excuses. He'd asked. He'd
demanded. He'd even picked up a damn pen and wrote out what he wanted.

  Ashley refused any of his offers, leaving their relationship hanging. Until she agreed to be his, the way he wanted and needed in a woman, he wasn't going to put his tag around her neck.

  He brought his head down and rubbed his lips against her mouth. All she had to do was hand over her life to him, and they could settle the bullshit back and forth relationship that left them both miserable.

  She lifted her head. He lowered his and licked her neck, finding suction, and marked the delicate skin.

  "Damn you." She softened against him before jerking away.

  He let her go, pleased with himself. Zeroing his gaze on the smooth skin off-center to the base of her throat, he grinned. Let her try and go out now, wearing his mark.

  Ashley rubbed her neck. "I don't even know why I came over here."

  "Uh huh." He crossed his arms and continued looking at her.

  She sure looked pretty all wound up and angry. His chest quivered in amusement. Fighting with Ashley was pure encouragement to him. His girl wanted him to beg her to stay with him tonight.

  Ashley fanned her neck where a red hickey marked her skin while her deep brown eyes half-ass glared at him. His cock pulsed harder. She wanted him.

  "I'm out of here." She huffed and walked back into the house.

  He exhaled loudly and followed her. By the time he'd made it to the front door, she'd stepped off his driveway onto the street and swished her ass in front of the empty house next door. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her walk up her driveway, two houses down from his.

  Being her neighbor was the reason why he'd bought the house from Chief. His father had bought the place before Olin was born and kept one of his women here for many years. It sat vacant for a couple years before one night, tired of riding to the Brikken clubhouse after spending half the night with Ashley, he decided to buy it from his dad.

  The front door of Ashley's house slammed shut. He whistled under his breath. That woman was fired up.

  She probably lied about having plans to go out. He walked back into the house and crashed on the couch. Whenever she got a bug up her ass, she enjoyed bringing him into her mood.

  Even if she went out tonight, she wore his mark on the side of her neck. He grabbed the whiskey and took a swig. Any man would stay far away from her.

  He set the bottle back on the coffee table and closed his eyes. His balls ached, and he tried to push the memory of Ashley's ass swinging in the tight, black skirt. She better not go clubbing or wherever she thought she was going dressed like that.

  Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to remember if Chief mentioned where Johanna, his dad's woman, was going tonight. Ashley, along with her sister, Lindsay, and Johanna were lifelong friends. They got together at least once a week, usually at the Brikken clubhouse since Chief wanted Johanna close and not out at some club where anything could happen.

  Except lately, Ashley had gone out a couple of times with the women she worked with at Shechanics —a mechanic shop owned by two females. He hadn't even known Ashley was thinking about quitting the job she'd had for the last twenty years at the lawyer's firm in downtown Tacoma until she randomly announced her new job.

  Working in an office, anywhere, was right up her alley, but Jesus, why the hell would she want to go work in a car shop?

  A car door closed outside. He tightened his stomach and rolled off the couch. No fucking way.

  He opened the front door and stepped out on the porch in time to catch the back end of Ashley's car whizzing around the corner and out of sight.

  Shaking his head in irritation, he stormed back through the house and out into the garage. She shouldn't be driving out at nine o'clock at night by herself. Her sister's car wasn't in the driveway, which meant she was meeting someone in town. In the dark. Alone.

  He put on his helmet, started his Harley, and rode away from the house. There was not an area or place Ashley could go that he couldn't find her. Call his knowledge about her whereabouts stalking or overly concerned, he only knew he wouldn't allow anything to happen to her.

  Too many times over the years, she'd done something stupid. At sixteen years old, she'd been slipped a roofie while attending a party by herself after getting in an argument with her sister Lindsay. He'd stopped the dickweed teenager from doing anything more than drugging her up. At twenty-three years old, Ashley went to a dinner meeting with clients of the lawyer she worked for. Her boss ran late, and the two male clients decided she was their entertainment while they waited. He'd made sure they understood her job description.

  Twice, he'd needed to step in when men decided to catcall her as she finished up her grocery shopping and then approached her when she ignored them. Thirty-odd riders from Brikken Motorcycle Club riding into the store parking lot had scattered the men harassing her.

  He opened up the throttle and headed toward the city limits of Tacoma. The long list of times he'd saved Ashley's ass should've proven that he was the man to take care of her.

  Up ahead, he spotted the rear of Ashley's vehicle stopped at the first intersection on Ninth and Edison Street. With relief that she was safe, came anger.

  Chapter Two

  The blinking red light failed to stop Ashley at the intersection. She turned her head side to side and rolled on through, holding her cell phone to her ear.

  "I'm two minutes away. Stay outside." Ashley glanced down at the speedometer, breaking all kinds of laws. "I don't want to get there and find out you're gone or I'll have to—"

  "Do not call Chief." The vehemence in Jackie's voice had more to do with the threat of getting her freedom taken away than fear of her father.

  "I won't, but you have to stay outside. I'm serious, Jackie." She turned right and sped up. "What's the house number?"

  Thank God, Jackie called her for help. Called anyone. Chief and Johanna's daughter was like a niece to her, and of course, Olin was one of Jackie's big brothers. She would do anything to help.

  "Um, I don't know. Wait...the neighbor across the street has 245A on their mailbox. You'll see me. I'm on the street," said Jackie.

  "Okay, I'm almost there. You'll be able to see my headlights in a moment." Ashley slowed down, watching for drunk kids roaming around on foot or trying to pull away from the curb in their cheap cars. "I'm going to hang up. Stay there."

  She'd been upset with Olin and halfway out the door to meet her bosses, Elissa and Willa, when Jackie called upset because the girl who'd taken her to a high school party was too drunk to drive her home. Not wanting to call her parents, Jackie had called her for help.

  Jackie had used her smarts and reached out. That's all that mattered.

  Having grown up with Johanna, she'd been there through her friend's scandalous relationship with Chief, who at the time was president of Brikken Motorcycle Club, and through the birth of both their daughters. She knew enough Brikken members to understand heads would roll if anything happened to Jackie or Stassi. The daughters of Chief and Johanna were overprotected, rightly so.

  While she played the fun "aunt" and agreed that Jackie at sixteen years old should be able to go out alone with her friends, the thought of Jackie at an underage party around drinking, drugs, and God forbid...sex, made her want to wring the girl's neck.

  Jackie had her whole life ahead of her to party, explore her sexuality, and have a good time.

  In the beam of her headlights, she spotted a figure standing at the edge of the street. Ashley slowed and rolled the window down before coming to a stop beside Jackie.

  "Hop in, babe." She removed her purse from the passenger seat and set it on the floor of the car.

  Jackie, wearing sneakers, shorts, and tank, hurried around the front of the car and slid inside. Ashley remained parked on the street. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah." Jackie sighed heavily. "Thanks for coming to get me."

  "That's what I'm here for." Ashley held back her lecture. "Where's your friend that was goin
g to take you home?"

  "Inside." Jackie turned in the seat. "Michela drank way too much. They have a keg inside and are also passing around mixed drinks."

  "Ouch," she whispered, removing her seatbelt and put on her emergency flashers. "I want you to stay in the car. I'm going to go inside and see for myself what kind of condition Michela is in and see if she's in a safe place to sleep off her drinks. If not, we're going to give her a ride home."

  Jackie reached into her bag. "I took her keys."

  Ashley leaned over and kissed Jackie's cheek. "God, I'm proud of you. Now, sit tight."

  She got out of the car and hurried up the cobbled steps to the front door. Understanding that a keg party for kids meant there were no parents around, she opened the door and walked into the crowded house.

  Teenage boys roughhoused in front of her. She skirted the entryway, scanning the faces. Having only met Michela once, she hoped to spot her among the ombre-haired females with the penciled-on eyebrows. They all looked so young. Too young to be drinking.

  A boy backed into her. She pressed her hands against his bony spine. "Whoa, there, buddy."

  The kid turned around, and his mouth opened, closed, and opened again. "Shit."

  "Yeah, shit is right." She lifted her chin, proving that she was an adult and hell would be paid if she couldn't find Jackie's friend. "Where's Michela?"

  "Who?"

  "Michela."

  The boy lifted his drink, realized what he'd done, and lowered his arm to hide the evidence of the alcohol. "Are you her mom?"

  If she were Michela's mom, she'd beat her daughter's ass.

  "Hey, Michela? Someone's looking for you," shouted the boy next to the guilty teenager.

  She glared and stepped away from the duo. A girl pointed her in the right direction.

  In the living room, Michela sat on the couch, leaning against a girl who seemed sober enough to care about her friend. Ashley worked her way across the crowded room and bent down, sweeping Michela's hair off her face.

  "Did she pass out?" said Ashley.

  "Who are you?" The other girl's gaze darted around, probably looking for more adults in her paranoid state.