Charlie's Heart: MC Romance (Burning Bastards MC Book 3)

Burning Bastards MC

Book Three

by Ryder Dane

© Copyright March 2015 JK Publishing, Inc.

ISBN# 978-1-311-83531-4

All cover art and logo © Copyright March 2015 by JK Publishing, Inc.

All rights reserved.

Cover by Jess Buffett

Published by JK Publishing, Inc.

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To the Veterans of the Vietnam War

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Books by Ryder Dane

Teaser from the new book Rain Falls

Excerpt from Integrity Has No Bounds

Excerpt from Two Worlds Collide

JK Publishing, Inc. Authors

Charlie rode his scoot into the parking lot and parked the ancient machine next to Big Dog’s bike. He wondered what the deal was tonight, Big Dog had left three messages on his cell phone, and all of them said he was needed at the clubhouse pronto.

He saw a couple of vehicles that looked like cop cars, but many of the brothers bought old cages at auction if the interceptor motors were still under the hood and customized the ugly fuckers into sweet rides that sold for a pretty profit. So it didn’t overly concern him much.

He didn’t want to be here, hell, he didn’t want to be much of anywhere lately, at least not for a few months now. Ever since he’d let Selma fly in fact. He had always been a lobo, free from shackles and baggage. No woman could hold him for longer than a few months at a time. Those times were damn good ones, at least from his point of view, but sooner than later the females started demanding permanency, and that
was not
in his vocabulary. Until early last year, when he met Selma, she was everything he wasn’t.

She was an educated woman, a lawyer in fact. She was beautiful in the way a mature woman who knew her worth was beautiful. Selma made him feel like a better man. Like he was smarter than he actually was, and she rode his prick like it was a trick pony any time, and just about anywhere the notion hit them. She was younger than he was by fourteen years, but it didn’t make no never mind to either of them. She looked damned good perched on the thick cushioned bitch seat he’d bought for her little ass to sit behind him on while they enjoyed feeling the wind on their knees and the joy of freedom as the wind whipped past their cheeks.

He’d been avoiding the clubhouse, and his old pastimes held no interest for him. He had a pack of smokes in his pocket nowadays instead of his sugar packets. Why worry about dying of lung cancer if nobody was around to care anyway. He wasn’t ready to hang himself, but the days after letting his lady loose, well that hanging idea hadn’t seemed like such a bad notion.

She got elected to her dream job of being a circuit court judge, and he was happy for her, more happy than she probably would believe. She wanted to make a difference, and he let her go so she could. Oh she started out wanting him to continue to be part of her life, but the demands of that were too much for a man like him to concede to.

He wasn’t a show horse, never had been, and when she asked him to wear a suit and tie, he’d almost laughed his ass off. Next request was to cut his hair to a more acceptable style for the image of a judge’s escort to appear. He’d flatly refused both of her requests in a harsh and uncompromising way.

“I ain’t no tamed whipped pup, woman, you can’t rope the wind or cage a wild thing like me. I’m a biker tramp, and I ain’t got no want to wear fancy clothes and sit down to dinner holding my pinky up while I have to drink some watery fuckin’ tea or some shit like that.”

He had regrets, but there was no way he would have missed knowing her even if he could. She was the bright spot in his life, and he was beginning to acknowledge that she’d taken a big ol’ chunk of him when he’d made love to her the last time. He’d put everything he had in that last session, he wanted her to always remember him.

He walked into the club and stopped short. Big Dog was lookin’ concerned, and the place was about as quiet as he’d seen since the funeral for Farley a couple of years ago. Two men in funeral suits were sitting at the table with Big Dog. Fuck, this was some kind of setup. The big man gave him a slight nod, and Charlie took a couple of moments to center himself. He hated fuckin’ cops.

Tiny handed him a beer as he walked by, and he nodded to the man in thanks, and kept on moving. He stood behind the suits and said, “Hey, Big D, what’s going on?”

The two men tried to crane their necks to see the man they’d come to see, but the prez waved him into a chair on his right side. Charlie hesitated for a few heartbeats and sat down. No one spoke. He didn’t like the way the cross-eyed fuckers were staring at him. He drained his beer and slowly placed it on the table in front of him before folding his hands and looking directly at the bigger of the two men.

“Okay, I’m here, there must be a reason for this unsolicited visit. Let’s get on with you tellin’ me what you think you can accuse me of doing, and I’ll deny it. Go ahead, I’m not in a bad mood or nothin’.”

The two glanced at each other and the short one nodded. “You are Charles Vernon?” Charlie nodded, not bothering to answer verbally, what would be the point?

“I’m Agent Hill, and this is my partner Agent Scott. We’re here to ask you a few questions about a woman that we believe you know.” He opened the file in front of him and passed over a glossy eight by ten of Selma. Seeing her made his guts tighten, but outwardly he nodded.

“Yeah, I know her, she’s a good woman and a fair judge.” Seeing the agent fingering the file, he got a tingle up his spine. “Why dontcha just come out with it? I need another beer, but since I don’t drink with strangers and people I don’t trust. I have to wait till you’re done beatin’ around the fuckin’ bush. Is there a problem with me being her friend?”

Both agents shook their heads and looked at Big Dog before continuing. He shrugged his shoulders and folded his hands across his belly as he continued to lounge in the chair.

Agent Hill cleared his throat and sighed. He blew out his breath and blurted it out. “The Honorable Judge Selma Pearson has disappeared, and we have reason to believe her life is in danger.”

Agent Scott took up the conversation from there. “Judge Pearson was last seen on Friday, January twenty-ninth. She has been missing since approximately eight thirty pm. If you have been keeping up with the news during the past year, you would know that the area has had three high profile child endangerment, and abuse neglect cases.