Zeke (Devil's Flame MC Book 2) Read online

  Zeke

  Devil’s Flame MC, Book 2

  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.

  Claim your exclusive FREE book & be the first to know about my hottest new releases, more free books and awesome giveaways!

  Also by Romi Hart

  Devil’s Flame MC Series

  Rafe

  Zeke

  Eli

  Harrison

  Corey

  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

  Eli (Devil’s Flame MC, Book 3) - Special Preview

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Also by Romi Hart

  1

  The infernal beeping made it hard to hide, to fall into that quiet place where the searing pain and the flashing memories disappeared, and voices continuously interrupted delectable dreams of women catering to him, insatiable for the favors he delivered. Zeke just wanted to crawl back into the haze of numbness, to drown in the sensation of drugs flowing through his veins and dousing the agony that threatened his sanity.

  He knew where he was, but he wanted to be anywhere else. Hell, with the inability to rest soundly, he might as well be back under the heavy hits of the men who’d put him here. He winced, even in that place between wakefulness and sleep, at the physical memory of a boot connecting with his ribs and the popping sensation that told him at least two of those bones had broken.

  He rolled his head, as if he could deny that pain, and the image faded, replaced by one that nearly made him hurl. The sharp, indescribable sensation of the blade buried deep in his gut, and going down, knowing he was going to die. The enemy outnumbered him, and he had no means of contacting anyone else to send out a distress call, his phone tossed away and probably shattered.

  When Rafe arrived, Zeke had accepted death as the outcome, and his best friend’s backup made him worry more about the lashing Rafe would get for leaving his post without orders than about his own survival. Rafe had saved his life, and Zeke owed him for it. And that thought finally cleared the last of the haze and brought forward the need for consciousness, despite feeling like a tractor trailer had run him over and then backed up and done it again.

  Groaning, he forced his eyes open and instantly squinted against the glare of the bright white hospital lights around him. As he came to, he also realized any number of his brothers in the Devil’s Flames MC could also be laid up in hospital beds around him, including Rafe, with the considerable size of the setup that had gotten him the five star accommodations.

  Fucking Hawthorne, he thought. And that asshole, Gomez. Zeke clenched his teeth against a raging headache that threatened to take him back under, and a new monitor started beeping loudly, with an insistence he knew would draw attention from the staff. That wasn’t his intention, and he noted that the blood pressure cuff had tightened. He glanced at the machine, saw the numbers, and knew he needed to calm down before he burst a blood vessel in his forehead.

  Besides, he’d never be allowed any visitors and would have to lie here and drive himself mad, wondering the outcome of the whole situation if he didn’t get his temper under control and his vitals stabilized.

  He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing until he heard the curtain being drawn. Peering from beneath one lid, he saw a nurse in standard blue scrubs, except that he’d never seen anyone fill out a set of scrubs like that before. Opening both eyes, he swallowed hard at the vixen who had entered his hospital room.

  The woman was thin and fit, but she still had the perfect curves, the kind Zeke could just imagine gripping with his large hands. Her dark auburn hair was pinned up tightly, but he could tell it was long and thick, and he wanted to unleash it and watch it flow down her back. And she moved with a grace that told him just how much fun it would be to have her slither over him in bed.

  He’d just about reined in his arousal when she turned to face him, and her creamy porcelain skin framing the palest of blue eyes he’d ever seen captivated him and took his breath away. Of course, the hateful glare she shot at him doused his desire to reach out and grab her, more efficiently than the pain he felt.

  “I see you’re finally awake,” she said, a bite in her tone that didn’t fit her angelic beauty. Zeke was actually reminded of the nuns who ran the Catholic school he’d attended as a young boy.

  “If that offends you, I’ll try to go back to sleep,” he told her, his voice barely coming out. Clearing it and choking, he asked, “Damn, how long have I been out?”

  “About thirty-six hours,” she bit out, paying more attention to the monitors than to him. “I’ll need to get something for your blood pressure, a sedative, if you don’t calm down. In other words, it would be in your best interest to go back to sleep.”

  Coughing again, he asked, “Can I get a drink first? And maybe find out about the rest of my brothers?”

  She scoffed, all but shoving a plastic container into his hand. He took a sip and sagged in relief, not realizing how thirsty he’d been. Sure, it was room temperature, but it was wet and felt good going down his throat. “You mean the bikers who won’t get out of my ward?” Zeke frowned, not sure why she sounded so offended, but she didn’t give him a chance to respond. “You’re the only one here, as far as I know. And you’re lucky to be alive, from what I’ve seen in your chart.”

  She glanced at him finally, derision in her eyes, and it dawned on Zeke what was wrong. This woman had already judged him, had already made a snap decision that, just because he wore a cut, he was a criminal and didn’t deserve the services she provided. He was no stranger to that attitude; it was pretty pervasive, even though a lot of the businesses in the community had come to know the Flames fairly well.

  He sighed to himself, wanting to assure her that he didn’t get into illegal dealings, but she wouldn’t believe him. After all, he’d come into the ER and into her ward here with what most would consider injuries from a gang related attack. He hadn’t shaved in days and couldn’t imagine how swollen his face must be. He definitely looked the part of a gang member with no morals.

  “So, what’s the prognosis, Nurse Curvy?” he asked, a smirk on his face. Her eyes cut to him with outrage, and he winked at her. Since she
already had preconceived notions about who and what he was, he might as well give her what she expected from him.

  Pressing her lips together and narrowing her eyes, she hesitated, staring him down, and then finally huffed. “My name is Leigh Marks. You can call me Leigh or Miss Marks. You may not make misogynistic remarks.”

  He quirked a brow at her. “I didn’t realize a compliment to the fact that you have a figure even scrubs can’t hide would be misogynistic. My apologies, if you don’t like being told how gorgeous you and your sweet little ass are.”

  She inhaled sharply, her eyes going wide at that comment, but to his amusement, she chose to ignore it. “The prognosis, Mr. Austin,” she said, strongly emphasizing the formal address that made Zeke wince and think of his father, “is that you’re going to need long term rehab. And that’s just for the knee and foot, after another surgery tomorrow.” She added under her breath, just loud enough for her to hear, “There’s no telling what else you’re into that’s going to require rehab.”

  “Hey, don’t even go there, Sweet Cheeks. You can read my chart and know for a fact I’m clean and sober. I have a drink from time to time, but I’m not a user.”

  She scoffed and shook her head as she changed out a bag of fluid hanging from the IV rack. “Whatever. I don’t have the time or the interest to read your chart.” An obvious lie, considering she’d spoken about how grave his chart looked before, not to mention the way she averted her eyes. “Besides, once you have the surgery, you’ll probably be out in a day or two. None of my business.” She stopped moving and stared at him hard. “Just do us both a favor. Let’s be cordial to each other. Let’s not have lewd comments or rude interactions.”

  Debating on whether or not to respond in a serious manner, Zeke went with his instinct. “Well, I suppose I could rein it in, if you want. But please, feel free to come onto me as much as you like. I’m used to beautiful women wanting me. And trust me, I’m a little banged up, but I’ll be back to full functionality in no time.”

  Rolling her eyes and looking perturbed, Leigh shoved away, typing something into the digitized records. As she hustled out of the room, she threw over her shoulder, “Someone will bring you something to eat. Don’t expect to see me again any sooner than I’m obligated by my position.”

  Then, she disappeared, and Zeke leaned his head back, the throbbing taking over and threatening to send him back into the black hole of unconsciousness. But as he pictured the sway of Leigh’s hips and the venom in her tone, he smiled to himself. She was sassy and would be a great force to conquer. And as he thought about that, his cock twitched. All of his fantasies would carry him a long way, once he was out of this place and on his own.

  Until then, he had to keep it under wraps, which meant taming his dick for at least a few more days. Reminding himself that he’d be obligated to physical therapy, and that he’d likely have a brace up to his knee for a long time, went a long way in bringing him down from his high.

  He sat in the bed for a few minutes, trying to assess the areas that ached and stung and equate them to what he’d gone through, just to take inventory of the worst of his injuries. Of course, his leg had a tight wrap, and he finally realized it had been latched to the bed, probably so nothing shifted until they completed whatever surgical procedure was left. The whole thing from the hip down hurt like a son of a bitch and felt heavier than cast iron, but it didn’t compare to the sting in his side.

  Shifting carefully so he didn’t damage the IVs going into his left arm or set off anymore alarms, he moved the detestable hospital gown to take a look. He winced, not even wanting to count the stitches, but it looked like a clean cut. The whole area was red and tender, and he’d probably have a nice scar.

  Above that were the bandages wrapped around his ribs. There wasn’t much else to be done about that. It would hurt to breathe for a few weeks, and then the pain would subside, except for small reminders when the weather acted up now and then.

  Bits and pieces of the attack were missing, he must have taken a hit to the head, considering that there were areas that were tender to the touch. And his face…well, maybe they hadn’t packed much of a punch since he could see out both eyes, but he knew there was bruising everywhere.

  His only solace was knowing that no one else had been injured enough to end up in the next room. Hopefully, that meant they’d all gotten back to the clubhouse and gotten patched up, not that there were bodies to be buried. He hadn’t noticed any law enforcement outside his room, waiting to question him. And Nurse Ratchet with the killer bod hadn’t sent them in. He figured she hated him enough to point them in his direction the minute he woke up, if they were waiting.

  Already bored out of his mind, Zeke considered hitting the call button, just to see if Leigh would come or not. He could play that game all day long, and he assumed she’d have to come if he called, since it was her duty. But before he could press the button, there was a brief knock, and then Rafe ducked through the closed curtain, wearing a smile and carrying relief on his sagging shoulders.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Zeke chuckled. “You look like hammered shit on a shingle, my friend.”

  Rafe grunted and pointed to him with a warning look. “You’re lucky you’re laid up over there, or I’d break you myself for that remark. Compared to you, I look like America’s Next Top Model.”

  “Except you don’t have tits,” Zeke laughed, then groaned as pain shot through his chest and stomach. “Tell me everyone’s alright.”

  With a short nod, Rafe ran his fingers through his hair. “Everyone’s patched up, nothing major except for you.” Looking back over his shoulder, he added in a low voice, “Edgar’s dead.”

  “Well, there’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” Edgar was trash, and if anyone in the Diamond Kings deserved death more than their leader, Jake Hawthorne, it was that greasy son of a bitch. “And what about your girl?” he asked, wondering where things were going with Hawthorne’s sister, who was supposed to be leverage but had somehow gotten under Rafe’s skin.

  “She actually met with us and proposed an inside attack to the council.”

  Zeke nearly choked on his sip of water. “She went in front of the board? Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack. And we agreed to do it.” Zeke sat back and listened while Rafe explained the details, and he could see the pride in his friend’s eyes as he spoke about Kira.

  Shaking his head, Zeke said, “You better watch out for her and make sure she comes back in one piece because you’ve got it bad, and I don’t want to deal with the wreckage if something happens to her.”

  Rafe nodded. “Trust me, I don’t like her putting herself in the middle of it one bit, but what am I supposed to do? It’s our best shot, and she’s fierce. Besides, Jake hurt her as badly as he hurt me. I owe her the opportunity to help take him down.”

  Zeke started to reply, but Leigh bustled back in, a tiny medicine cup in one hand with a pill and a fresh container of ice water in the other. “It’s an anti-nausea med to keep you from hurling with all the other things going into your system,” she clipped, eyeing Rafe with a sneer on her face.

  “I didn’t know you cared so much, darling. I mean, Nurse Marks.” He switched from the lilting tease to a phony militant tone as he took the items from her, and she backed away with a scowl. He tossed back the pill and handed her the empty cup as he gulped at the refreshing cold liquid.

  “Don’t be mistaken, Mr. Austin. I don’t really care if you vomit up your toes. But the doctor does, and I’m at his disposal.”

  “He’s a lucky man,” Zeke told her with a wink.

  Putting her hands on her hips, she glared at him harder than ever. “Mr. Austin, if you continue to address me in such a manner, I’ll have you booted from this hospital, regardless of your condition. Your leather worshiping friend here can carry you to his motorcycle and tie you to the back, and both of you can be on your merry way, never to return to harass me again.”

 
“I apologize for my friend’s behavior,” Rafe interjected. “He’s not used to being on so many pain meds, and I think it’s loosened his tongue. He’s usually much more of a gentleman than that.”

  “Somehow I doubt it,” she countered, “but at least someone had the good taste to apologize.” She turned and practically marched out of the room.

  “Well, she’s right up your alley,” Rafe muttered, obviously not wanting to be overheard.

  Zeke just laughed. “Yeah, she’s a feisty one. But she really and truly hates me. I’ll settle for the fantasies where I get her on her knees. It’s a lot easier than trying to get her to do it in real life.”

  “You never know,” Rafe told him, almost blushing. “Who would have thought I’d find someone I don’t want to let go? Especially under the circumstances.”

  Pointing a finger at him in accusation, Zeke told him, “You are living the dangerous game there, pulling the whole Romeo and Juliet scheme. If either one of you fuckers dies before I’m out of this hospital bed, I’m going to resurrect you just so I can beat you to death myself. You understand what I’m telling you?”

  With a snort, Rafe taunted, “I’d like to see you try. You’re going to be limping for a long time, brother. You won’t be able to catch my ghost.”

  The reminder brought Zeke back to reality for a moment, and he said, “I owe you my life, Rafe, what little this life is worth. I can’t imagine the verbal beating you took for leaving your post, or what the hell prompted you to do it, but thank you.”