Cessy: A Silent Sons MC Novel Book One Read online

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Table of Contents

  Cessy

  Copyright

  Synopsis

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Sneak Peak

  Cessy

  A Silent Sons MC Novel

  Book One

  Ambere Sabo

  Copyright

  All rights reserved.

  Cessy

  Copyright 2017 © Ambere Sabo

  Published by: Ambere Sabo

  Edited by: Charlotte Stanley

  Cover by Susan Garwood with Wicked Women Designs

  Format by: © Liberty Parker

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from Ambere Sabo, the author/publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental

  Synopsis

  I was born the Princess of an MC I knew nothing about. Thrown into their world of crazy, when I had no other options. Despised by the club for things out of my control. It took me a long time to find my way in this life, but I became the Princess I was born to be. Now they have taken my Pops from me, and I will bring hell on earth to those who caused his death.

  The Silent Sons have promised to help me find those responsible. While I was looking for answers, I found Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody. Will he be my saving grace in this life or will we both lose our lives when we find an enemy more twisted than we could imagine?

  Warning

  This novel includes graphic situations with detailed violence, sex, and language. It may be offensive to some readers and includes situations that may be triggers for certain individuals. This book is intended for a mature audience.

  Dedication

  This is for my mama.

  I miss you more than words can say.

  Love you to the moon and back,

  more than all the stars in the sky.

  Forever and Always.

  Prologue

  Cessy

  I’m a woman, a daughter and the only blood relative of his left, but in the eyes of some in his club, it’s a disgrace that I should lead the last Rev. Fuck that bullshit. Pops would have wanted me to start the chorus of revving motorcycle engines announcing to heaven that my dad was on his way. This club is the center of my world and has been since I was twelve years old, but to some, I’ll always be the reason the club changed. Like I want that responsibility, or that I wouldn’t give anything for my mama to still be riding bitch on the back of his bike.

  Is it my fault the man he left me with, turned out to be a monster in disguise, may the bastard rot in hell? No, none of that is my fault, so they can fuck off. Right now, ask me if I give a damn about any of their opinions. My father, the man who raised me the best that he could, is being buried in a box today. Should I know as much about gun-running and strip clubs as I do? Hell no, but I am the Prez’s daughter, and no one can deny that.

  Hell, I ride better and handle more club business than most of these lazy fuckers anyway. The will Pops left makes sure that doesn’t change anytime soon either. That’s where all the bullshit started. The new Prez, Wraith, loves my pops and trusts him, even in death, more than anyone else in this world. So, he’ll do everything he can to make my pops proud when it comes to the club.

  Loki, The Reapers’ Treasurer, doesn’t agree. He wants me gone, and I’ll stay just to spite the slimy bastard. I know he’s responsible in some way for my pop’s death, and I will fucking prove it, even if it takes my last breath. If another club is involved in him stealing my father from me, it’ll be fucking war. I am Reine “Cessy” McIntosh, the Prez’s daughter, and I am out for blood.

  Chapter 1

  Venom

  I can’t believe we’re in church for this shit. Never thought we’d hold a club meeting to deal with business that wasn’t ours. My ears catch snippets of whispered conversations going on around the table.

  “…I know Havoc feels like he owes his old club to help out.”

  I got love for Havoc, but why the fuck are we getting involved in another MC’s shit? Especially the fucking Reapers!

  “…but The Reapers will never change.”

  Exactly! They may look like they have changed their ways, but I call bullshit. Those of us who’ve been around long enough, remember the mayhem they used to cause.

  “But Rodeo was friends with Hawk a long time ago.”

  “We don’t need to get caught up in some MC gang war.”

  “We’ve got bigger issues to worry about.”

  “Yeah like all that blow.”

  I find myself nodding in agreement. Right now, we need to focus on where the fuck all this cocaine is coming from again, and nothing else. There’s no way I’m letting our town go back to how it was when I was a kid. No matter how many junkies and dealers we fuck up, no one is talking, and I won’t have this shit come down on the club.

  “Right! We don’t want to tarnish our relationship with the cops.”

  We may be in tight with most of the cops in town, but that doesn’t mean they won’t come knocking if people start dying. When their loved ones die, people only see in black and white, and all our good deeds for the community won’t change shit. In the end, we’re still an MC that isn’t always on the right side of the law. In small town Texas, t
hat can lead to homegrown justice, and it’s not fucking pretty.

  Bang, bang, a gavel pounds the table. Shit. I’m not even paying attention, and the meeting’s over. I need to get my head in the game; there’s no way I can protect our club if I don’t even know what the hell is going on. At least they already know where my vote stands with this mess. In a situation like this, it’s majority rules, and looking around the table, I see nothing but lucky horseshoes.

  We’re going to end up in a club war with The Reapers over this shit, and damn it if I won’t have Havoc’s head if that happens. No matter how many motherfuckers we kill together, this club is all I have, and I won’t let anyone take it from me. As our Enforcer, it’s my job to make sure everything is under control.

  “I need a drink,” I say to no one in particular, as I slam my chair back against the wall. The only people left in the chapel are Havoc and Prez. Fuck if I want to talk about any of this shit. They’re too caught up in whatever they’re talking about to even hear me. Screw it. I’ll talk to Prez after I chill the fuck out.

  The music’s already loud as hell as I walk out into the main room of our clubhouse. Shit, it’s loud for us to have just been in church. Cherry Pie blares through the club speakers. I guess the prospects need a lesson in manners, and my nerves are more than happy to give it to them.

  First, I need a fucking shot. Keeping my head down, I head straight to the bar for my tequila, but when I reach into the little fridge underneath the bar top, I come up empty. Where the fuck is my bottle? The brothers know better than to touch my shit. I swear I will rip someone’s head off tonight if I don’t calm the fuck down.

  “Prospect,” I yell, but the music is too loud for anyone to hear me.

  Looking up for the first time since walking out of church, I see them. Every prospect is watching the corner booth in the back. Hell, I think every brother is too.

  What the fuck is going on around here? The song switches to Pour Some Sugar on Me, and I know Rev is somehow responsible for the choice of music. His taste in music hasn’t evolved past the 80s hair bands, and I hate it. I’ll deal with that after I figure out what the hell is going on in that booth.

  I have to shove through a few prospects before they realize it’s me and clear a path. That’s right mother-fuckers, don’t make me have to put you in line. After giving a death glare to the last one in my way, I turn around and damn, if my jaw doesn’t drop.

  Some chick is all up on Rosie giving her one hell of a lap dance. Hands roam all over Rosie’s body. The brothers holler some of the crudest catcalls I have ever heard, and that’s saying a lot with this crowd. This chick doesn’t even flinch, it’s like she can’t even hear a damn thing they’re saying. Who the hell is she?

  She bends over and licks Rosie’s ample cleavage, her long blonde hair making a curtain as she does, blocking the show she’s giving. The brothers voice their displeasure, but I don’t give a damn if I never see Rosie’s tits again.

  It’s not like she doesn’t walk around in the skimpiest tops she can find anyway. With the blonde bent over, the curve of her ass is popping out of her barely-there shorts, and damn if it doesn’t cause my dick to jump to attention.

  She leans back to pour salt on Rosie’s tits causing my attention to draw up her toned ink-covered body. Hell, that’s sexy as fuck. She might even have more ink than me, and that’s saying something.

  She leans over and licks the salt from Rosie’s tits slowly before chugging from a bottle. A bottle I know all too well. This chick has my damn tequila. If I can get her to take a lime out of my mouth like she just did Rosie’s, I may just let her keep it.

  The music stops blaring, “What the fuck, Cessy?” Havoc roars.

  Oh, hell no, she’s The Reapers’ fucking Princess. I don’t need to deal with that mess, no matter how fucking sexy she is. I stalk over to grab my tequila off the table and with a sneer say, “Princess, don’t touch my shit again.”

  As I stomp back over to the bar to take a shot, the guys are already thinning out. No one wants the drama that comes along with fucking club royalty.

  Her daddy isn’t even cold in the ground yet, so no doubt his club will rain hell on Earth to whoever fucks with his baby girl. It’s not worth the trouble, even if she does have the best ass I’ve seen in a long damn time.

  Chapter 2

  Cessy

  “What in the ever-loving fuck do you think you’re doing, Reine?” Havoc yells.

  Oh, no the fuck he didn’t just call me by my actual name. In this life, that’s the equivalent of a parent calling out a kid’s full name when they’re in trouble, and I sure as shit don’t need this from him right now.

  “Reine, huh, okay, Eric. If that’s where you want to take this,” I say with the same crappy attitude he has.

  I need another fucking shot, but seeing as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Broody just took the only damn good liquor in this place, I guess I’m out of luck with that. Standing at full height in my sky-high heels puts me at chin level with Havoc.

  I give him my best glare while crossing my arms over my chest, pushing my cleavage up. He knows just how well I can work a clubhouse, and he sure as shit doesn’t want me going to one of his brothers rather than the club whore I was just dancing with.

  “Don’t start, Cess. I’m trying to help you out, but dancing all over Rosie like that is only gonna start shit. I’d rather not have to knock a brother out, and you know that.”

  “Rosie?” I ask in confusion, what kind of club whore goes by Rosie?

  Damn, I hope I wasn’t up on an Ol’ Lady. I doubt a brother would take too kindly to the attention I was bringing his woman. I hear a giggle from behind me and turn to look at the brunette I was just using to forget the crazy for a bit.

  Without skipping a beat, she drawls, “I give the best damn handy this side of the Mississippi.”

  A handy? What the fuck does that have to do with her name? She interrupts my thoughts lifting her hands into the air, palms up.

  “Rosie Palms,” she says with a giggle. I can’t help but laugh at that. Well, shit at least she owns it.

  “What, you going to tell me there’s a Swallow here too?” I ask sarcastically.

  She giggles and shakes her head no. Well, thank God for that. Havoc clears his throat, giving her a look that means my fun is over, and it’s her cue to leave.

  As I watch her walk away, I catch Mr. Broody staring at me from across the bar. If he would learn how to share, I’d say he’s damn sexy with sleeves of ink. Damn, I love a man with ink. They look to be geometric or something, but I’d need a closer look to be sure.

  He’s tall as hell. He must have at least three inches on Havoc, who already towers over me when I’m not in heels. I bet I wouldn’t even reach the top of his shoulders in my damn heels.

  Where Havoc has blond hair and blue eyes like me, Mr. Broody is the exact opposite. Dark, almost black, hair and eyes. He has a well-groomed beard, and though I don’t prefer beards, he rocks it. Maybe he could give Havoc some grooming tips—his beard is out of fucking control right now.

  Havoc stops my appraisal with, “Care to explain what the fuck that was about, Cess?” gesturing to the booth. “You had damn near every brother in here watching your ass.”

  “Damn it, Havoc! I was just trying to let off some stream. You know how I feel about being in another MC’s clubhouse. Especially when I’m here to ask people I don’t even know for help. Hell, I don’t even like to ask your ass for help opening a jar.”

  His anger shifts to guilt and I hate it. I know he feels like he let me down when he left The Reapers. I had to learn to depend on only myself after that, but I understand why he had to go.

  “Cess, you know you can always—,” he starts.

  “So, this is what all the commotion I heard is about,” someone interrupts.

  I have no clue who the beast of a biker approaching us is but, damn, I could kiss him for his timing. I don’t want to talk about my trust issues right now.


  “Rodeo, this is Cessy. Cessy, this is my Prez,” Havoc offers gesturing between the two of us.

  “Heard ya were giving my boys quite the show out here,” Rodeo says with a smile that only grows with Havoc's growl. Did he seriously just growl at me?

  “Sorry ‘bout that. Just needed to blow off some steam and have a drink,” I say with a frustrated breath, looking away. I feel like a teenager being scolded again with all this bull shit.

  “Your mama used to do the same thing,” he says with a chuckle.

  My eyes snap to him, what the fuck did he just say? How did the Prez for The Silent Sons know my mama?

  “Yes, I knew your mama, Hawk too. But that was years ago when we were just little shits who thought we were untouchable,” he says with a laugh that lights up his gray eyes. “And thank the Lord you look just like your mama. Never did understand how Hawk managed to land her. I was real sorry to hear about what happened to her,” he finishes as sadness replaces the light in his eyes.

  Looking away, I try to get my head on straight before I let my emotions get the best of me. I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of this man, and here he is talking about not only my mama, but my pops too.

  It’s been a shitty couple of weeks, and I’m trying my damnedest not to break down. In this life, I know I can’t let people know they’ve gotten to me or they’ll know my weaknesses. I cannot afford to look weak in any way right now. When this is all said and done, I can break down, but until I know what happened to Pops, I just don’t have the time for it.

  I rack my brain, trying to remember if he’s ever been mentioned, but I don’t remember this guy at all. He may be older, but he’s still handsome. Tall, with salt-and-pepper hair, dimples and a physique that tells me he still takes care of his body. But I truly don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.

  “I don’t remember you from her funeral, or Pops’ funeral for that matter. Did you go to them?” I ask a little more quietly than I’d have liked.