Rafe (Devil's Flame MC Book 1) Read online

  Rafe

  Devil’s Flame MC, Book 1

  Romi Hart

  Copyright © 2019 by Romi Hart

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Also by Romi Hart

  Devil’s Flame MC Series

  Rafe

  Zeke

  Eli

  BOX SETS

  Stamina

  Out of Bounds

  Playing to Win

  Untamed Billionaires

  Dangerous

  Untamed Billionaires Series

  The Billionaire Bull

  The Billionaire Bold

  The Billionaire Brute

  Playing to Win Series

  One Kiss to Win

  One Chance to Win

  One Cheer to Win

  Out of Bounds Series

  Temptation

  Addiction

  Passion

  Dangerous Series

  Dangerous Play

  Dirty Play

  Daring Play

  Stand Alone Books

  Sinner

  Big Slide

  Contents

  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

  Zeke - Special Preview

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Also by Romi Hart

  1

  The balls rolled with a thunder as Rafe unleashed his fury on the cue. Two stripes slammed into the pockets, and he strode around the other end of the pool table to take another shot, ignoring everything around him, including his club president, who stood quietly chalking the tip of his own cue stick. He missed the bank shot and cursed under his breath as he reached for his beer, thinking he needed to switch to something stronger after the way things had gone today.

  One too many misses.

  Corey leaned over, taking aim, but he didn’t shoot. Instead, he said, “We’ll get them, Rafe. You’re too focused on revenge, and it’s clouding your judgment. If you can’t start focusing on the bigger picture, I’m taking you off the detail.”

  Rafe bristled at the threat, as Corey made the corner pocket. “You can’t do that. I’m the best you’ve got.”

  But Corey just shrugged. “You’re the best I’ve got when your head’s in the game. But you’ve been on your own mission for too long now.” He straightened and pierced Rafe with a warning look. “I get it, Rafe, and I know it’s important. But the only way you’re ever going to get to Jake is if you start paying more attention and practice a little patience.”

  Patience. That was rich. Rafe had waited for six years. He’d patiently followed orders, managed to hold off, climbed the ladder to the seat of the vice president in the Devil’s Flame MC, in what amounted to record time. He’d been nothing but patient for the last six years. And still, Jake Hawthorne rode at the head of the Diamond Kings while Rachel rotted in a grave.

  He took another swig while Corey missed the shot and then went through the motions of the game, thinking how close they’d been today to intercepting the shipment of illegal guns the Diamond Kings had run to the border. Unfortunately, Jake had decided to send two caravans, and the real shipment had taken a different route, so Rafe and his club had come up empty handed. Rafe didn’t want the guns. He didn’t want the business. All he wanted was to draw Jake out of his hiding place, the hole he’d crawled under when he’d screwed up and shot Rachel so many years ago. The bastard was nothing but a greedy coward, and Rafe wanted to take him down more than anything in the world.

  “I am focused,” Rafe grunted, running a hand through his dark brown hair, which fell around his ears and curled at the end. “I’ve been focused on the same thing this whole time, brother. You didn’t promote me for nothing.” He stepped up beside Corey and met his gaze head on, the inch he had on his president negligible. “But I will have Jake Hawthorne’s head on a platter, and it’ll be an example of what happens when you cross our brotherhood as much as it is an eye for an eye.”

  Corey gave an almost imperceptible nod. “I hear you. But there’s going to be an opportunity. Right place, right time. We’re not going to fuck with their shipments anymore. They expect that. It’s gotten too dangerous.”

  Rafe clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw so tight the muscles twitched. He wanted to argue, but Corey’s word was law, and there would be no changing his mind, not without significant evidence of a reason to continue their attempts to ambush the rival club. And he couldn’t go out on his own. He’d sworn his allegiance to the MC after the Diamond Kings had neglected to give a damn who got caught in the crossfire of a deal. Corey and his father had found Rafe out of his head as he tried to get a weapon of his own, picked him up, dusted him off, and given him a reason and a means to live without his sister. He had no intention of turning his back on the only family he had, regardless of his inner turmoil.

  He hated Jake Hawthorne. He hated what the man stood for and everything about the Kings. But he loved the Devil’s Flame brothers too much and would hang tight as long as Corey gave the word.

  When the time came, Jake would suffer for taking Rachel from him.

  Stepping away from the pool table to trash the empty beer bottle and pour himself a finger of whiskey, Rafe surveyed the clubhouse. It was pretty empty for a Friday night, but it was still early. He guessed the rest of the boys would be in at some point. Things tended to get rowdy, especially when they expected a group back from a road trip.

  Even as he thought it, Zeke wandered in with four of the others, and Rafe held up two fingers in salute. They didn’t look any worse for the wear, so at least that venture hadn’t gone south. It was a small victory on a shitty day. He grabbed a second glass and poured another whiskey, sliding it to Zeke before returning to his game.

  “What’s with the heavy brow?” Zeke asked gruffly, though there was humor in his voice.

  Rafe just grunted, trying to find a clear shot across the felt. Corey snorted. “Just the usual impatience.”

  Zeke held up his glass as if to toast. “Well, I might have some information that could turn that frown upside down, my brother.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Rafe cast a quick glance Zeke’s way before tapping the cue ball and tipping another into the pocket. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, cautiously. Last time Zeke supposedly had inside information, Rafe had walked into a trap, and they’d had to take out an informant who was working both sides.

  Chuckling, Zeke leaned on the side of the table, eyeing the balls as if he were getting ready to play. Rafe knew that look. His friend was being dramatic and wanted to draw this out. Maybe this was good information that could put Jake in his crosshairs. But he wasn’t going to bank on it. Not yet.

  “Rumor has it,” Zeke began, running his fingers over his blond goatee, “that our least favorite club president has a weak spot we can exploit. And it has nothing to do with business.” He smiled and winked at Rafe. “In fact, it’s right up your alley.”

>   Now, Rafe was intrigued, if still skeptical. “I’m listening.”

  Growing more serious, Zeke pulled up a rickety barstool and took his phone out of his pocket. “I was talking to one of my girls at Roundup. She was getting hounded by one of the Kings, and we took care of it, so she owed me a favor. Well, in the midst of the trouble, she got some inside information on Jake and a couple of other guys. Anyway, as it turns out, my brother, Jake has something he actually cares about other than power and money.”

  “If you don’t stop beating around the bush, I’m going to beat your head in,” Rafe warned. He didn’t have the wherewithal for Zeke’s games after the day he’d had.

  Zeke held up a hand to halt him, scrolling through his phone. Finally, he stopped and smiled, turning the screen so Rafe could see. Blinking, Rafe stared at the image, not quite willing to believe his eyes. “Looks like your archenemy isn’t an only child,” Zeke declared triumphantly.

  The woman in the picture was luscious, despite the fact that she carried a distinct family resemblance to Jake. She laughed with her head thrown back, either not knowing or not caring that someone had a camera on her, and her long, black hair shone in a bright overhead light. Her eyes had an exotic almond shape, even as they crinkled at the edges with her mirth, and she was lean muscle with curves in all the right places. “A sister?” he asked, his throat dry and rough as he spoke.

  “You got it.” Zeke was all business now. “An eye for an eye, Rafe. He took your sister. Now, we’ve got eyes on his.”

  “You can’t just go off halfcocked and kill his sister,” Corey argued, stepping in. “That’s not who we are.”

  Zeke guffawed. “There’s nothing halfcocked about it. She’s got me at full mast, just from the damn photo.”

  Ignoring the remark, Rafe shook his head, still staring at the image. “No, I don’t want to kill her, not if I don’t have to. I want to make him wonder. I want to scare the shit out of him. She’s just bait in this game.”

  Corey scrubbed a hand down his face, obviously not liking the direction the conversation was headed. “What are you thinking, Rafe? You know you can’t do anything without some backup.”

  Rafe took it as a positive sign that he hadn’t just nixed the idea entirely. “I’m thinking,” he started, rubbing his hair and the stubble on his chin, “we go in and take her. If she won’t come willingly, we nab her. Then, we send a message to Jake, let him know if he doesn’t get his ass out of his hidey hole, she’s toast. He’ll show his face.”

  “You can’t expect him to come to his own funeral,” Corey shook his head. “He knows you want blood, Rafe.”

  “I’ll call it a chance for a truce,” Rafe shrugged. “He gives up some profits, we’ll call it even. But he has to come to the negotiation himself.” Rafe had no intention of letting him leave in one piece, but that didn’t matter. Given the opportunity to take the hatchet off his neck, Jake would show. And then, Rafe would just call it a negotiation gone wrong.

  “You think we can get this chick without a fuss?” Corey asked Zeke, nodding to the phone.

  Zeke stroked his chin again, in thought. “According to Karen, Jake is all sorts of overprotective of his sister, but she doesn’t much care for him and is always looking for a way to piss him off. I bet she’d jump at the chance to go home with a member of a rival MC.”

  “Where do we find her?” Rafe asked, itching for his chance.

  “Karen said she’s at the Wicked Thorn almost every night, especially Fridays. She should be there tonight. I’m waiting on a text from my girl to confirm.”

  When it came to the girls Zeke ran with, Rafe trusted the information. After all, they counted on the MC for security at the strip joint, and Roundup could get pretty out of hand. Rafe weighed the idea his friend presented. It would definitely be a great way to get under Jake’s skin, and he couldn’t imagine the asshole wouldn’t take the bait.

  But what approach would they take? They could go in, act oblivious, and try to get her to latch onto one of them, or they could wait her out and snatch her when she left. She’d likely have had a few drinks and be a little more pliable by then. He glanced at Corey, who didn’t look thrilled at any of this. But he also wasn’t arguing the possibility. Rafe had the impression his president was ready to be done with this vengeance mission and would go to great lengths to see it through at this point. All the better for him.

  “Let’s go. I say we go in, try to get her to take the plunge. If it doesn’t work, we let her leave and grab her on the way out.” It was the perfect plan. Either way, Jake Hawthorne’s sister would be his before the night was out, and that meant Jake wasn’t far behind.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Corey groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in frustration.

  But Rafe pressed on. “This is the best chance we’ve got, brother. And think about it. We don’t have to worry about hitting them up on the road anymore.” Corey peered at him through a slit in one eye, and he added, “Plus, if we take Jake out, they get a new president, and we can work with them instead of having to fight with them all the time. We offer them free passage through our territory for a small take in the profits. It’s a win-win situation.”

  He knew Corey couldn’t turn that down. He’d been looking for a way to call a truce with the Kings for over a year now with no possibilities on the table. An answer to his biggest problem and a resolution to Rafe’s debt, were just around the corner. All Corey had to do was back Rafe’s idea, help him take the little sister, and all would be well.

  “You’re going to put me in an early grave, Rafe,” Corey grumbled, shaking his head. “Fine. Let’s finish the game and talk it through, and we’ll ride out after. We’re not going in without a backup plan.”

  Rafe growled to himself. He had a backup plan. But he didn’t argue. At least they were going through with it. Downing the last of his whiskey, he poured another, the liquid warming him up now rather than burning fiercely on the way down. Strange how hope could change the way everything felt. Suddenly, the game of pool wasn’t just an automatic pastime, and he was ready for a new challenge. Then again, this was a situation that didn’t suck. There was no way they could lose at this one. Even if it came down to the worst case scenario, Zeke was right. An eye for an eye.

  Jake could pay the same price and lose a sister in the crossfire.

  Half an hour later, Rafe had his crew outside the clubhouse, ready to ride out. Corey, Zeke, and Harrison would join him inside the bar, while JR and Blaze, two of their most senior prospects, would wait outside in case they needed to grab this chick on her way out of the bar later.

  Zeke’s girl, Karen, had texted, and Jake’s sister had confirmed she was at the Wicked Thorn, a dive bar just a couple miles away. “Her name is Kira,” Zeke said, squinting at the text that had just come through. “Karen doesn’t know if she has a type. Says she’s never seen her go home with anyone. We may be making a go of Plan B.”

  Rafe didn’t care which way things worked out, as long as they came home with an extra passenger that had long, dark hair and exotic eyes. “She doesn’t get hurt, no matter what happens,” he warned, meeting each pair of eyes in the group and waiting for a nod of confirmation. “And when we get her back, she’s mine. No toying with her, no sharing her. This is my debt, my fight. We do it together, but we do it my way.”

  “As long as you don’t fuck up,” Corey warned. “And don’t let your dick call the shots.”

  The others laughed, but Rafe cut his eyes at them and shut them up. “I have no interest in her, other than to get my hands around her brother’s neck and squeeze the life out of him. She’s no good to me damaged.” He twirled his finger in the air. “Let’s ride.”

  Mounting his bike, Zeke leaned over and muttered, “You do realize that fucking her with her consent would be just as much of an insult to that son of a bitch.”

  Objectively, Rafe wouldn’t mind getting his hands on the body he saw in the picture. But he wasn’t lo
oking for a fight. He didn’t want to goad Jake into an all-out war. He just wanted to draw him out of hiding so they could meet face to face. And then he would destroy the asshole’s face. “I don’t want a price on my head, Zeke.”

  “I’m just saying. That piece of ass—“

  “Is off limits,” Rafe cut him off adamantly. He didn’t need anyone else getting any ideas in their heads about the kind of fun they could have in bed with Kira Hawthorne. “That’s the end of it, Zeke. Hands off, for everyone.”

  “Including you?” Zeke raised a brow at him, as if questioning his integrity.

  Rafe grinned without humor. “Are you questioning my self-control? Or are you saying I can’t get laid somewhere else?”

  “Take it how you want. I can’t promise that, in your spot, I wouldn’t cave. The chick is smoking hot.” Zeke shrugged and revved his engine.

  Turning over his own, Rafe shook his head. “I’m not going to have a problem, bro,” he shouted over the growl of the bikes. “Watch and learn.” Pulling out first, he led the group onto the road and to the bar, taking it easy. The night was young, the traffic was still flowing, and there was no rush. And the ten minute ride was perfect to cool his heels and get his head on straight. It would be poetic if he could be the one to seduce Jake’s sister rather than one of his club brothers. How satisfying would it be to know that he coerced his rival’s sister into his arms before using her to get his revenge?