Read Online Split - Coffin Nails MC (Contemporary New Adult Erotic Dark Romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 7) by Miss Merikan - Free Book Online
Authors: Miss Merikan
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waitress came back
with Hunter’s beer, but the moment she was gone, Ray shifted so far into
Hunter’s personal space, it was making him uncomfortable. “Sins? Are you
stupid?” hissed Ray, grabbing the front of Hunter’s shirt and pulling him
forward. “Don’t you remember anymore who took you in when your fucked-up family
chose Jesus over you? They deserted their own kid, and somehow the sky didn’t
fall on them. My dad fed you, gave you a home, and you will just let this go?
He’d be so fucking ashamed of you!”
Head also beat Hunter black and blue whenever
he felt it was “necessary,” forbade him from going back to high school, smashed
his cello, and pulled him into a life around the club that wasn’t all pussy and
roses. Hunter had done quite a few things he wasn’t proud of because of Head,
and a homophobic vendetta against the Coffin Nails was the least of them. Sure,
Hunter could have ended up homeless after he told his family he didn’t feel
there was a God and they staged an intervention that was basically an ultimatum
of: “you can’t stay under our roof unless you accept Jesus into your heart” and
a lot of crying on his mom’s part. And it wouldn’t have been easy to be on the
streets of Detroit at sixteen, especially in winter. Hunter’s cello wouldn’t
have saved him, and he would have turned to a life of crime anyway.
With Head and Ray, he at least had a
lifeline—something to fall back on and someone to depend on when shit hit the
fan. And then the other Hogs were a kind of support as well. Someone would
always know someone who was a mechanic, or a doctor, or someone who had a
dentist daughter who would see Hunter in the middle of the night after he’d had
his tooth broken in a fight. It wasn’t safe to be alone.
Hunter took a deep breath. “Don’t you ever
wonder though? About hell? Isn’t it better to be on the safe side and at least
not kill people?”
Ray snorted, his eyes cool as ice. “You’re
a fucking coward. Must run in your side of the family. What next? You become a
priest yourself? Stay celibate?”
“It’s not cowardly to think things through,
you asshole. You have a death wish or something?” Hunter hissed and leaned
back, wrapping his arms on his chest. He wouldn’t waste his breath on someone
who didn’t have enough brains to question the world around him.
Ray shrugged. “I’m not stupid. They’re not
gonna suspect it was me, so the plan needs to be foolproof. Doesn’t have to be
tomorrow, but I am gonna break Priest’s neck and sprinkle his blood over Head’s
grave,” he muttered and downed his beer in a few chugs.
“We’ll need to make sure it’s a good plan,”
Hunter said, even though he didn’t feel particularly eager to join in. Despite
having rejected the idea of God in his teens after growing up in a house as
religious as his, there was still that flicker in him that asked, “what if?”
“Yeah. We have time to regroup and think of
something in the meanwhile.” Ray looked up at the stage and tapped his empty
bottle. “His daughter would be up for a tape after some convincing. Just think
of how humiliated he’d be if that kind of shit came out.”
Hunter stilled, surprised by how visceral
his own reaction was. He had to hold back his fists to not bring too much
attention to the fact that he didn’t want to see Astaroth hurt. And he didn’t
want her on tape either. He wanted her naked and moaning his name.
“How about you stop distracting yourself
with pussy and think of some actual plan?”
“That would only be the beginning. All we
need is some booze, and she’d go with it. It’s not rocket science,” said Ray,
rolling his eyes.
“You’re not going there,” Hunter growled,
looking back at Ray. This wasn’t a game anymore. Ray’s idea was filth, and the
thought of treating a girl that way made Hunter cringe. And not just Astaroth,
any girl. But to do it to a girl so focused, and so set in her ways, seemed
like a
with Hunter’s beer, but the moment she was gone, Ray shifted so far into
Hunter’s personal space, it was making him uncomfortable. “Sins? Are you
stupid?” hissed Ray, grabbing the front of Hunter’s shirt and pulling him
forward. “Don’t you remember anymore who took you in when your fucked-up family
chose Jesus over you? They deserted their own kid, and somehow the sky didn’t
fall on them. My dad fed you, gave you a home, and you will just let this go?
He’d be so fucking ashamed of you!”
Head also beat Hunter black and blue whenever
he felt it was “necessary,” forbade him from going back to high school, smashed
his cello, and pulled him into a life around the club that wasn’t all pussy and
roses. Hunter had done quite a few things he wasn’t proud of because of Head,
and a homophobic vendetta against the Coffin Nails was the least of them. Sure,
Hunter could have ended up homeless after he told his family he didn’t feel
there was a God and they staged an intervention that was basically an ultimatum
of: “you can’t stay under our roof unless you accept Jesus into your heart” and
a lot of crying on his mom’s part. And it wouldn’t have been easy to be on the
streets of Detroit at sixteen, especially in winter. Hunter’s cello wouldn’t
have saved him, and he would have turned to a life of crime anyway.
With Head and Ray, he at least had a
lifeline—something to fall back on and someone to depend on when shit hit the
fan. And then the other Hogs were a kind of support as well. Someone would
always know someone who was a mechanic, or a doctor, or someone who had a
dentist daughter who would see Hunter in the middle of the night after he’d had
his tooth broken in a fight. It wasn’t safe to be alone.
Hunter took a deep breath. “Don’t you ever
wonder though? About hell? Isn’t it better to be on the safe side and at least
not kill people?”
Ray snorted, his eyes cool as ice. “You’re
a fucking coward. Must run in your side of the family. What next? You become a
priest yourself? Stay celibate?”
“It’s not cowardly to think things through,
you asshole. You have a death wish or something?” Hunter hissed and leaned
back, wrapping his arms on his chest. He wouldn’t waste his breath on someone
who didn’t have enough brains to question the world around him.
Ray shrugged. “I’m not stupid. They’re not
gonna suspect it was me, so the plan needs to be foolproof. Doesn’t have to be
tomorrow, but I am gonna break Priest’s neck and sprinkle his blood over Head’s
grave,” he muttered and downed his beer in a few chugs.
“We’ll need to make sure it’s a good plan,”
Hunter said, even though he didn’t feel particularly eager to join in. Despite
having rejected the idea of God in his teens after growing up in a house as
religious as his, there was still that flicker in him that asked, “what if?”
“Yeah. We have time to regroup and think of
something in the meanwhile.” Ray looked up at the stage and tapped his empty
bottle. “His daughter would be up for a tape after some convincing. Just think
of how humiliated he’d be if that kind of shit came out.”
Hunter stilled, surprised by how visceral
his own reaction was. He had to hold back his fists to not bring too much
attention to the fact that he didn’t want to see Astaroth hurt. And he didn’t
want her on tape either. He wanted her naked and moaning his name.
“How about you stop distracting yourself
with pussy and think of some actual plan?”
“That would only be the beginning. All we
need is some booze, and she’d go with it. It’s not rocket science,” said Ray,
rolling his eyes.
“You’re not going there,” Hunter growled,
looking back at Ray. This wasn’t a game anymore. Ray’s idea was filth, and the
thought of treating a girl that way made Hunter cringe. And not just Astaroth,
any girl. But to do it to a girl so focused, and so set in her ways, seemed
like a
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