BAD FOR ME: A Lords of Chaos MC Novel

  BAD FOR ME

  A Lords of Chaos MC Novel

  Shanora Williams

  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  FORTY-THREE

  FORTY-FOUR

  Epilogue

  Free Bonus Chapter

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  Copyright © 2019 Shanora Williams

  All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

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  Editing By Tamsyn at Brazen Ink

  Cover Model: Jack Beauregard

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  ONE

  I exist because of a lot of bad choices—and no, not just choices I made. Choices my parents made, and even those of my great-grandparents.

  My great-grandfather was a wealthy man. From what my grandmother told me, he owned a mansion on a nice estate, had maids, and butlers, and even owned two beautiful stallions on a gorgeous ranch. He would take those same stallions to derbies and make so much money off of them.

  None of it lasted, though. He ended up gambling away all his money, losing it to the leader of some Italian gang during a drunk poker night. He was forced to pay everything upfront. No negotiations whatsoever.

  They swiped him of his money and left him dry. They even took his stallions. He had to move his pregnant wife at the time—my great-grandmother, Liza—out of the safety of her home after two months because he couldn’t afford the mortgage or the bills. They rented a rundown two-bedroom apartment after the fiasco and our family has had bad luck ever since. Thanks, Great Papa Julio.

  Great-Grandma Liza gave birth to her first and only child—my grandmother—three months later, and from what I was told, my great-grandma assumed her daughter would soar and become a nurse who helped people and saved lives like she did.

  Well, I’m afraid she was wrong. My Nana Maria became a coke junkie, and then she got pregnant with my mother, Carmen, and tried to change her life, but after she had my mother, I assume the stress caught up with her because her sobriety didn’t last for long.

  When I realized this, I was sure the Almaraz family was cursed because, just like Grandma Maria, Carmen turned into a junkie too—only her addiction wasn’t to drugs, it was alcohol.

  Carmen got clean for a while and had two kids, both with different men. Carmen could never settle down, so she turned to alcohol again after having her kids, as well as drugs.

  She overdosed when I was fifteen, leaving me and my brother, Silas, in the care of my Nana Maria. She wasn’t much fun to live with because she swore she had cleaned herself up and had now become ever-so-holy, acting as if she could walk on water. But we dealt with it. Having some place to stay for the time being was better than not having anywhere at all, or ending up in foster care. Plus, she loved cooking and I loved the free meals. So did Silas.

  It was okay there…for a while.

  I’ve tried to break the curse in my family by being the good egg—you know, the one who works a steady job, pays her bills and taxes on time, and takes care of her only family.

  I refuse to be like my mother and grandparents who threw their lives away for drugs, alcohol, and gambling, but that doesn’t mean I’m perfect.

  I have my moments. Trust me, I am not pure, but at least I’m not a junkie. I think what sets me apart is that I enjoy my freedom. I don’t let the worries of the world sink into my mind and body the way my family did.

  Nana Maria couldn’t handle having a baby, so she reverted to cocaine. My mother couldn’t handle life with routine, so she went back to alcohol for a little fun.

  Well, I get my fun from being free. I don’t like to settle—I just like to go. Of course, with Silas, I had to at least pick one place where he could go to school and get by, but he grew up fast.

  My freedom, though? It always leads me down paths I shouldn’t take. Take this very moment for example. I can’t figure out why I keep coming back to the same man’s house. I lay in bed with him almost every night and scramble for my things early in the mornings, just so I can make it back home to shower, get dressed, and make it to a photoshoot on time.

  I met this man, Ellis Butler, at a press conference for the place I work for, Mission Magazine—a magazine about diversity, culture, and the changes happening due to social media and technology. Ellis was the photographer for one of the shoots, and since we both have a passion for creating art behind the camera, we hit it off over lukewarm coffee and stale, overly-sweet donuts. It was a long night, but he made it entertaining.

  He asked for my number, we hooked up one night, and we haven’t been able to stop since. The kicker is that he’s over twenty years older than me. He does things that I never thought I’d like and, surprisingly, he knows a woman’s body better than I can even begin to know mine. I guess I can say I like him. He’s a good distraction when shit gets tough.

  I pull the cotton white sheet over my chest as Ellis sighs and sits up with his back to me. He has a strong back, chiseled and toned in all the right places. I can tell he works out.

  He lost his wife thirteen years ago, grieved for three years and put on a little weight, but lost it again by working out in his garage—at least, that’s what he told me. He’s always been a photographer, but before he started shooting for small magazine presses, he took pictures for the U.S. Military when he could while on duty. He was a medic, and he’d captured a lot of gruesome shots. Some of the photos he has shown me are so raw and heartbreaking, but he has such a good eye and it’s another thing I admire about him.

  Ellis scratches his head and glances over his shoulder to look at me. “Is it just me, or are we fading?” he asks in a low voice. The lump the size of a golf ball forms in my throat.

  “Fading?” I murmur. “What do you mean?”

 
“I don’t know,” he says in his usually grumbly voice—the voice that’s so deep that understanding what the hell he’s saying is almost impossible. “Maybe it’s stupid and I’m overthinking it. I don’t know.”

  My eyes sweep over the streaks of moonlight on his back. I follow the milky light all the way down to the left side of his hip. “No. Tell me what you mean.”

  He turns toward me, briefly making eye contact, and then huffs as he turns to face me full-on. “Look, you’re young, Nova, and I get that. I get that you wouldn’t want to settle down with a guy like me right now.”

  Lordy. Not this again.

  “But,” Ellis continues, “I need to confess something. I know this started as a fling, but…well, I like you. Hell, I more than like you.” I almost lean back and stop the conversation, but he holds up a hand and reveals a forced smile. “It hasn’t shifted into the love territory yet, but I have to admit I’m feeling things for you that I haven’t felt in a long time. I haven’t felt this way about anyone since Mary.” His head drops when he says his wife’s name and I feel a squeeze around my heart.

  This poor, poor man. I can’t imagine losing a spouse. I’ve lost a mother, yes, but that mother didn’t care about me, so the loss was bearable enough. If anything, my mother’s passing lightened our burdens. I can’t even begin to count how many nights I’d spent cleaning up her vomit or helping her get to bed. From the photos I’ve seen of Ellis and his late wife, I can tell he loved her dearly, and I can only assume she loved him just as much.

  When we first started this thing we have now, nearly three months ago, he had pictures of her all over his house. He had them on his nightstands too, and told me that if I didn’t like it, I could leave right away because he didn’t like to hide her. I told him it was fine, that he shouldn’t hide her, and that was the end of that conversation.

  Now, though? I notice the missing portraits on the nightstand, and even the wedding photo he had in the hallway. He’s slowly but surely cutting Mary out of his home to make room for someone else…and I’m not sure how I feel about it because I suspect that someone is me.

  I cup his face. “Ellis,” I whisper. “I appreciate you telling me the truth, but like I told you before, I’m not exactly looking to settle down with anyone. I just…I like having you as a person I can escape with, you know? Someone I can come to and know you have my back when I’m having a shitty day, or a tough time with Silas and need to rant.”

  “Yeah.” He huffs another laugh but keeps his eyes down and it pains me. It really does because I like this man. I like him so, so much, but I know he wants more, and I can’t give that to him. At least not right now.

  “I should probably go,” I murmur.

  “Wouldn’t mind if you stayed,” he says, his green eyes shifting up to mine.

  I press my lips, pulling my hand away. “You know I can’t, El.”

  “Why can’t you? Silas is grown. He can handle himself for one night, I’m sure.”

  I laugh and turn, ditching the sheets, and picking up my skirt. “That’s what you think.”

  “It’s what I know. He’s nineteen, right? Works to make his own money? He knows his rights from wrongs and shouldn’t have you picking up his slack every time he messes up. He has to learn one day.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I laugh, peering over my shoulder as I zip the side of my skirt. “And what exactly do you know about picking up someone’s mess? All you had was yourself and your wife. You don’t know what it’s like to pretty much raise another person, especially when you’re still trying to find yourself.”

  He sighs and stands, grabbing his boxers, and putting them on. He walks my way as I slip into my camisole and grips my chin to tilt my head up. “I know a man can’t grow or mature when he has someone catching him every time he stumbles. The boy has to stumble or even fall sometimes, or he’ll never learn. He puts you through hell, Nova. You need to let him get out there on his own, face the real world. You’re the one who told me you miss out on some of your freedom because of your brother. He holds you back.”

  I snatch my chin away. I hate when he does this. It’s one of the downfalls of hooking up with an older man. He thinks he knows everything and that whatever he says is right because he’s been alive longer. Times have changed, though, and I wish he’d realize that.

  “He is facing the real world, Ellis. He’s faced it since he was ten. Look, you don’t know what he and I have been through, okay? We need each other. I’m not going to abandon him like everyone else did us. He’s all I have and I’m in no rush to send him off.”

  Ellis only smiles, and I love the wrinkles that form around his eyes and how his cheeks sink in, revealing the deepest dimples I’ve ever seen. But I still want to slap him for getting under my skin. He knows I love my brother and would do anything for him.

  “You’re cute like this—when I set you off. You know I don’t mean it—well, I do mean it, but I know that you know what you’re doing with him, so I will let it go.”

  “Thank you.” I fix my blouse. “So, when are you going to take me out on a real date?” I ask, bending over to pick up my shoes.

  He quirks a brow. “What’s wrong with hanging out here?”

  “Nothing at all—I love your meals and the movies, but maybe we can go dancing one night, or do karaoke and get really high? Or we could ride out in the desert, light a fire, and have a meal under the stars. Something fun like that?”

  I don’t miss the way his eyes avert from mine. “I don’t like going out much. You know that.”

  “You should consider it,” I tell him with a grin. “Especially the meal under the stars thing.” I cup the back of his neck and lay a kiss on his lips. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll both want more from each other after really letting loose out there?”

  “You millennials kill me,” he chuckles, then cups my waist.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not your average millennial. Yes, I love dancing and singing and getting high when I can, but social media isn’t my thing, and I don’t give a damn about all the trends happening, even though I work for a company that’s all about this digital age.”

  He only smiles, but it turns into a serious stare as he lifts both hands and cups my face. He lowers his head and kisses me whole, his lips smooth and warm. When he pulls away and releases me, I stumble backward like a dazed idiot.

  “I’ll think about it,” he says, and then he walks away to get to his bathroom. “I’ll see you soon, Nova.”

  “Yeah.” I run the pad of my thumb over my bottom lip, fighting a smile. “Soon.” I leave when he starts the shower and even though I tell myself not to, I look back and take in all his naked glory, from his firm ass to his strong arms and muscular back.

  Ellis Butler is delicious, but he’s also damaged. I like him a lot, yes, but settling down with anyone freaks me the hell out.

  For now, we are in a good place, and I’m hoping that soon enough, he will forget about wanting more and just let this be…whatever the hell this is.

  TWO

  When I make it to my apartment, I trudge through the door and go straight for Silas’ room. Of course, he isn’t here. He’s probably out with Omar getting into trouble. I call his number as I sit on the edge of my bed and kick my sandals off, but there is no answer.

  I’m too tired to try again so I toss my phone on the bed and stand to strip out of my clothes. I take a quick shower, put on a baggy t-shirt and some panties, and then climb under the sheets on my bed.

  Just as I’m about to doze off, I hear the rumbling of motorcycles and my pulse quickens. I don’t know why, but the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up.

  It’s them again.

  They’re hanging around this area more often than usual and I’m not sure why. I know exactly who they are. Everyone is afraid of them, but I think they’re just a bunch of grown men who are bullies.

  Lords of Chaos is what they call themselves, or The Lords. They’re one of the many reasons I want to get out of this fucked
up city of Nirvana, Arizona and go somewhere else, like Colorado or Vermont.

  Nirvana may as well be a forgotten community. It’s a small blip on the map, only a forty-five-minute drive from Sedona. Nothing exciting ever happens here, and no one famous is from here, which is probably why Lords of Chaos thrive here. Who wants to live in a small city like Nirvana when a biker gang is just around the corner?

  The Lords cause too much trouble, and I swear every month I’m hearing about some awful gang shoot-out happening, or people being brutally beaten and suffering for weeks in the hospital. The police pretend they don’t know what’s happening, but we know who is doing it.

  Even so, we all know to keep our heads down and our mouths shut when it comes to The Lords. It’s like a ghost town at night since too many people are too afraid to leave their homes, in fear that they may run into one of The Lords.

  It’s another reason I don’t like Silas being out so late, but he claims he hangs out at Omar’s house or stays the night there much of the time and isn’t on the streets.

  I personally don’t give a damn about the gang. They don’t scare me. As soon as I get enough money, Silas and I are out of here for good and we won’t be looking back.

  I pick up one of my pillows and place it over my head, waiting for the rumbling to become a distant hum. When it does, I sigh and fall asleep and, of course, it’s with Ellis and that damn kiss on my mind.