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  Axel: Royal Bastards MC Flagstaff Chapter (Book 1)

  Copyright 2020 Maura O’Brien

  Cover by Jay Aheer

  Paperback formatted by Dark Water Covers

  Edited: Edits by Erin

  Axel

  Royal Bastards MC

  Flagstaff Chapter

  Book 1

  Thank you:

  To Crimson Syn – for putting together the Royal Bastards world and inviting me along for the ride!

  To Kristin Youngblood – for all the legwork you did to promote this project and keep us all on track.

  To Erin Toland – for your sense of humor and all the times you pinged me to remind me of the date and ‘toward’ not ‘towards’.

  To Teagan Brooks – a kickass cheerleader, sprinting partner, and friend.

  Adriano – I love you more every day.

  John and Christine – your excitement and pride in what I’ve created means the world to me.

  ROYAL BASTARDS CODE

  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

  Epilogue

  ROYAL BASTARDS MC SERIES – ROUND 1

  Featured Characters

  Additional works from M. Merin

  ROYAL BASTARDS CODE

  PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else, and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.

  RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.

  HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.

  OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Ol’Lady. PERIOD.

  CHURCH is MANDATORY.

  LOYALTY: Takes precedence over all, including well-being.

  HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.

  TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.

  TRUST: Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.

  NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.

  Prologue

  Axel

  I see his fist coming down at me and know I don’t have time to block it. That thought is followed by ‘I’m getting too damn old for this shit’ as the force of his strike connects with my forehead.

  Shaking the stars and blood out of my vision, I let out the roar I’ve become known for—the crowd around us echoes it and I lunge at the kid in front of me. He’s probably twenty and has an impressive list of wins behind him already, but I knew the minute I saw him—he’s missing one key ingredient.

  Rage.

  I lost one fight in the seven years I was active and even though I wasn’t always the strongest, fastest, biggest—you name it—I was absolutely the most pissed off motherfucker in the octagon.

  The time I lost, I had enough coke in my system to kill most people—having been snorting it off various sets of tits all day long. I had gotten bored and soft. My chapter president had been warning my ass for weeks, but I was too out of my mind to hear anything.

  Declan locked my ass in a dark room, down in the basement of the clubhouse and made me sweat out the next few weeks. After that, he personally met me in our ring every morning at six and I had to re-learn how to fight around the pain from various broken bones over the years.

  I managed to keep my title—one given in our world, at least—for another eighteen months before I retired. The only reason I’m back here is that the kiddos are getting frustrated—they all want a shot at me.

  Sitting down with Declan a couple months back, we agreed I’d show up for three more fights; he would select my opponents and they’d get their chance.

  That and the money would be too good to pass up—there are two types of people who show up for our, less than legal, circuit. Those who have money to burn and those who want some of it.

  A couple weeks back, I waited about twenty minutes before knocking the shit out of the challenger who thought he had a chance against me. He didn’t get close to drawing blood though, so that was my cue to end the fight; he wasn’t worth the time. This kid at least got some blows in.

  “You were three minutes away from me losing money,” Diesel says, unwrapping my hands afterward. I had won and made it past the crowd who all think they own a piece of me.

  “You’re the cheapest motherfucker I know, what’d you put, a buck down, on me?” I laugh.

  “Two.” He shrugs before mumbling, “Large.”

  “I’ve seen a few Knights around here tonight. No sign of their president.” I change the subject to more pressing business.

  “Motherfucker better be hunting down his brother,” Wolfman says, coming in the room with a bag that best be stuffed with money. “Prospect’s on the door, told him no bitches—unless you’ve changed your mind, Axel?”

  I shake my head and Diesel turns from me and helps him start counting the take while I break up an ice pack for my head.

  Nearly a year ago, we were running as back up for the Hades’ Knights when the trailer got a flat. It was then we discovered that hidden behind the shipment of guns and Mexican Mud we had agreed to move, were five girls—naked, bound, gagged, and stuffed into a cage.

  The alliance we had with the Knights instantly imploded and we took possession of the entire shipment. Honestly, we should have been suspicious about the payout we were promised.

  Their president swore up and down his brother had gotten the lead and set up the deal; that was the first we’d heard of it. His brother, not being a Knight, has a lot of friends in the Bloody Scorpions.

  The Scorpions are bottom lickers, plain and simple.

  The Royal Bastards ain’t choir boys but human trafficking is a hard line we won’t cross. Shit, Declan even has a kick ass bonus structure for the girls who work in our strip clubs more than a year.

  “We’re good here, Axel,” Diesel announces. “You ready to ride?”

  I’m pulling on my cut by then and don’t bother answering,
I just swing my keys around my finger and walk out.

  Fuck. Knocking the door into the prospect’s back turns into row of dominos falling.

  From the looks of things, he was getting blown by one girl while playing with another’s tits. They fell back onto other chicks, who were no doubt hoping to get into a party with us.

  I start cracking up at the mayhem, catching Wolfman and Diesel’s attention.

  “Zip that shit up, kid.” I laugh at the frustrated expression on his face; remembering my days of getting cock-blocked when I was a prospect. “We’re hitting the road.”

  Chapter 1

  Joey

  Looking around the auditorium, I try to hold back my tears.

  They never flew home from Europe. It’s over halfway through the ceremony, so this is more than them being fashionably late.

  My mom and step-dad left for a Mediterranean cruise a month ago and ran into friends, extending their trip over and over again. Two days ago, mom said they were heading to the airport and promised she would be here. I could care less about her husband, even if they have been married most of my life.

  When my name is called, there is silence—until my friends realize that my family isn’t here and explode into cheers. Keeping my head up and my shoulders back, I walk down the aisle at the prestigious boarding school I was deposited in a few years ago and collect this tiny piece of paper that is supposed to mean so much.

  Walking back down the aisle, I wonder how the hell I’m supposed to get home. Cutting across the seats I continue straight on, instead of standing in my assigned place among my peers, and duck out of the auditorium. No one actually cares that I’m here, so there’s nothing to stop me from leaving.

  Ignoring most of the looks from those I walk past, I acknowledge the small salute from the groundskeeper, Mr. Harley, and push open the door, bursting into daylight.

  “Miss Josephine!”

  I hear the formal name that my mother saddled me with coming from the closest limo and see Edward, the chauffer left over from grandpa’s days, waving at me.

  “I gathered your bags from your room,” he says, rounding to my side of the sedan to open the door for me, wondering how he was even able to get access to my dorm. “I wasn’t sure how long the event would go. Congratulations, by the way.”

  Turning a glare on him that he doesn’t deserve, I shed my robe and hat throwing them in the nearest garbage bin before getting into the car without a word.

  “Your parents,” Edward continues, once he takes his place and buckles his seatbelt. “They got in late yesterday and your mother was too exhausted to make the drive this morning.”

  His eyes meet mine in the rear-view mirror, and I know I shouldn’t shoot the messenger but considering the cramps I have and the shitty graduation...

  “I feel you would prefer a warning, so forgive me for speaking out of turn.” Edward speaks up an hour or so later. “They’ve invited friends for dinner to celebrate your graduation and birthday.”

  I can’t help the sigh I let out. “My birthday was nearly a month ago. Did she manage to forget that or are they leaving right away for their next trip?”

  “I’m not aware of her reason.”

  “Thank you for telling me, Edward,” I say after a moment, knowing there’s no use pressing him for further details.

  Deciding to get a nap in, I lay across the back seat and sleep away the next few hours.

  *

  Edward wakes me as he’s exiting the highway, giving me time to freshen up a bit before we get to the house I was raised in. Actually, four generations of my family were trapped here—each one swearing they would be the one to break away from the lifestyle in which they were raised.

  My mom did for a short time. Moving out west to ‘find herself’, she came back nearly five years later with me; spinning an elaborate story about the man who fathered me.

  Several of them actually.

  My cousins are all a few years older than I am and have relayed each version of events they’ve heard about the first couple years of my life—of which I have no memory.

  I groan when I see the elaborate banner outside the house.

  All Hail, Josephine!

  What the absolute fuck? I know my mom is obsessed with French history, but that’s a bit much, even for her. My first rebellion came around age five. I refused to wear any more tulle. Or pink, purple, or any pastels.

  At seven, I read a story with a character named Joey and refused to answer to anything but that. My immediate family and the servants are the only ones who refused to give up on Josephine. So, really, the majority of people who call me Josephine are paid to do so.

  Now, eleven years later, I have a high school degree and have told mom that I’m taking a gap year to build Apps I have ideas for. I’m fairly certain she wasn’t paying attention when I told her. I get away with a lot of shit by acting frustrated and telling her ‘We discussed it and you agreed’.

  I know I shouldn’t do that but I’ve missed my grandfather every day since his death. He wasn’t what one would consider to be ‘child friendly’, but he at least paid attention to my ideas and would discuss them with me like I was an adult.

  I’m not actually planning on a gap year. I simply don’t want to go to college. I know that I’ll need some business classes in the future, and I’ll take them online when I do but I really believe I can build and market some Apps I have plans for.

  Refusing to wait for Edward to open the door for me, I ask him to have my bags brought to my room as I stride toward the entrance, smiling when I see Lina open the door and step out, holding a finger over her mouth.

  “Miss Joey!” She spreads her arms and hugs me tight. “I’m so proud of you! And look how beautiful you are!”

  The click of heals across travertine marble is all the warning we need. Lina steps back and ushers me inside, just in time for mother to make her entrance.

  “Josephine!” Jayne, aka ‘mom’, shrieks, waving her hands at all the bright pink balloons and flowers in the entry way. “I was just supervising the rest of the decorations for tonight. I can’t believe my little baby girl is a woman now!”

  “That seems like an odd thing to celebrate,” I say, standing still as she presents a cheek for me to kiss. “Besides, I got my period years ago.”

  I hear a chuckle in the background and look to see my ‘Step’ coming toward us. “Ah, always so witty, Josephine.”

  “You know what I mean. You’re eighteen and I can’t wait for you to meet some of our friends this evening,” Jayne says. “Now, Percy was asking me what university you had settled on and I know we discussed it but… Well, I told him you were excited to announce it at the party.”

  “Out of curiosity,” Step cuts in. “Which school did you decide on? And can you settle a debate for us? I have your eighteenth birthday in my calendar as next week, but your mom insists it was yesterday.”

  “It was like three weeks ago. Better luck next year, Step.”

  “Damn! I guess Jayne came closest.” Step takes out his wallet and hands my mother a hundred-dollar bill. In fairness, his name is Percy, but one of the fun things I learned at boarding school is how to seriously annoy your parents. I almost rolled off my bed laughing when I heard my roommate address her stepmother that way. Since then, I’ve refused to call him anything other than Step. “And your school choice?”

  “Jayne and I discussed it; I’m taking a gap year to work on some Apps I have plans for.”

  “We did?” She no longer questions my use of her first name. Unfortunately, she seems to like it because she thinks it means I consider her a friend.

  “Alright, but you have a school lined up for the following year, of course.” Step waves his hand in a circle, trying to move the conversation along. I have to contain my smile at that gesture; I do have my mom’s habit of getting sidetracked during conversations.

  “Nope. I’m going to wing it,” I answer and head toward the stairs. “I need a shower.”

>   “Wing it?!” They both gasp in unison.

  Upstairs, I find a dress hanging up waiting for me. Except it isn’t for me. It’s for the little girl that Jayne wanted. An elaborate, deep rose dress made for a modern-day princess. A knock at my door pulls my glare away from the offending object, as I see Lina enter with a couple folded towels.

  “Joey, I saw this dress in your luggage,” she says softly, looking over her shoulder as she flashes the black dress that she had placed between two towels.

  “Thank you!” I whisper back as she sets the stack down on my bed.

  “Your mother wanted me to tell you that the guests will arrive in ninety minutes,” Lina informs me before blowing me a kiss.

  That night goes as expected, Jayne and Step block any discussion of my gap year or future plans and make the night about them.

  Until dessert.

  There was one man circling among their guests who did not fit in and I could tell how uncomfortable Jayne was in his presence—no matter his height and good looks. I caught him staring at me throughout the evening, constantly studying me.

  When dessert is served, he’s suddenly at my side and asks for a moment of my time. I shrug and follow him out to the foyer.

  “I’m Adam Miller. I am an attorney for your grandfather’s estate and wanted to discuss your future.” He states when I close the door behind me – quickly turning to walk down the hallway as if he’s very familiar with the house.”

  I follow him down the hall to a room I had rarely been permitted into before. It was my grandfather’s study and although he had only been dead a few years, it has been kept exactly the way it had been when he collapsed with a heart attack at the desk.

  I couldn’t help but walk around the room, looking at tributes to him, various photos, and testing cabinet doors; finding them all locked. Turning to the desk, I was surprised to find the mystery guest sitting behind it and gesturing to the empty chairs across from him.