Claimed : Red Horsemen Mc #2

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Rae

  Rae

  Ice

  Rae

  Ice

  Rae

  Ice

  Rae

  Cas

  Ice

  Rae

  Ice

  Rae

  Rae

  Cage

  Rae

  Ice

  Rae

  Ice

  Rae

  Sienna

  Ice

  Ice

  Rae

  Ice

  Rae

  Rae

  Rae

  Acknowledgements

  About Raven

  Also by Raven Amor

  Claimed

  First Edition published in 2021.

  Text Copyright ©Raven Amor

  All rights reserved.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Editing by Imogen Wells

  Cover Design and Formatting by TRC designs.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means; electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover, other than that in which it is published, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages. All characters in this publication are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  WARNING: Adult content. Explicit sexual content and violence, mental health and sensitive scenes.

  This a dark romance so don't expect a fairy tale.

  This is Part two

  3 hours earlier

  “What's happening, Sketch? Where is everyone?"

  He opens the car door, grabbing my bag. "On their way. You live the closest, plus you pack light for a woman." He tries to give me one of those smirks, but it holds tension.

  "I've got used to it," I mutter. Years on the run taught me always to keep my belongings to a minimum in case I had to hit the road quickly.

  As we walk to the clubhouse, I don't miss the way Sketch's eyes scan the landscape, and how they both move in closer to me. Cage pushes through the door, and the usually hectic club is silent, with only the brothers standing in the main room. The air is different and heavy with danger. There are no smirks or jokey banter. The mood is powerful, and you could cut it with a blade. Threat hides in all the corners and danger lurks in the shadows. Glass covers the floor, and bullet holes pepper the walls. I knew they led dangerous lives but seeing it like this makes it real. The truth laid bare, and I find myself flicking through the faces to make sure they are all here. Each of them carries no grin or smirk. No twitch of the lips, their features are hard, eyes filled with threat and plans of vengeance. The mood makes me feel edgy for the first time.

  Ice breaks through the crowd, coming straight for me. His right eye is swollen and bruised, and his lip is puffy and cut, encased in dry blood. He doesn't give me time to ask what happened. Instead, he grabs my face.

  "Give me your taste." There's tension to his voice, but softness in his eyes before he seals his mouth over mine. This kiss is desperate, with a hint of fear. Aggressive and wild, just like the man himself. Growling, he deepens the kiss as he pulls me hard against his chest, so I feel the crazy beat of his heart. He's trying to tell me something with each swipe of his tongue, begging for something, but it confuses me because Ice doesn't beg. Ever. For anyone or anything.

  We break the kiss, and I know he sees the confusion on my face, the hidden questions in my eyes.

  "What's happened?" I ask, searching his eyes. What was that kiss?

  Instead of answering, I watch the shutters come down, and the ice emerge in his eyes turning him into Ice, the V.P.

  "What are you not telling me?" I rasp, feeling like this is a test.

  "Fuck, Kitten," he growls.

  Instead of asking more questions, I run my nails against his jaw, hoping he can see in my eyes what I feel. Because I know everything in me is telling me he needs me, now more than ever.

  I love you.

  As if knowing what I'm thinking, he grabs me, retaking my mouth. It's fierce and tastes of violence. He yanks away, watching my face before stepping back.

  I stand there breathless as he puts more distance between us.

  "Come on, Pretty Girl."

  I twist, hearing Bolt's voice. "What?" My eyes are flipping between Ice and him, knowing they are not telling me something. "What's happening?" I try again.

  "I promise I'll tell you, just not here. Okay?" Bolt says in a low voice only I can hear. I turn to look at Ice, pleading for him to hold me, take me in his arms, kiss me again because that other kiss seems final. The words I want to say are on the tip of my tongue.

  "Come on," Bolt says as he guides me through the room and up the stairs to Ice's room.

  As soon as he closes the door, the questions feel like they are tearing out of me.

  "What's happening? Have I done something wrong? I feel like I broke a rule. Is that why it is only me here? Are no other people coming in?” The dark look in his eyes disappears as a softness appears.

  "No, Pretty Girl."

  "Why do you keep calling me that?" I snap, pacing the room and still feeling Ice's kiss as my fingers go to my swollen lips. What is he trying to tell me?

  Bolt sits down and pats the bed. I shake my head, taking a seat on the wooden chair. The only reason I take it is that we are in Ice's room. His scent lingers around the place, making me feel safe, and the sheets are still rumpled from when we got out of them this morning.

  "I need us to be straight with each other, okay?"

  I scowl but nod. "Okay."

  "I know who you are."

  I stand straight away, blood rushing to my head. "What do you mean?" I feel my lies fracture under his force. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

  "I know you're not Rae and that you're Arya Mendez."

  I struggle for breath as my heart starts to race, and I try to shake my head. "No, I'm Rae." Anger bubbles beneath the surface as I glare at him. "Arya is…dead," I hiss. "She died that day... Arya is weak. I'm…."

  I cut myself off, seeing the truth in his eyes and the reality that is too heavy to bear. I slide down the wall, bringing my knees to my chest. "How?" falls from my lips like a tortuous whisper.

  I had been so careful to conceal my secrets. To hide them. Bury them as deep I could in the darkest part of my soul. I broke every rule, and now, I am going to pay the price.

  "What are you going to do?" I murmur.

  He shifts, rubbing his hand over his head before he exhales, grabbing a whiskey bottle from the side and handing it to me.

  "Getting me drunk before killing me, that's cute," I bite out. When his lips twitch, I realize he's not angry. Instead, he seems choked up.

  I track Bolt as he sits on the bed, looking at me before letting out a deep breath. "It's time for me to tell you a story. When I was eight, my old man told me I was going to have a baby sister. God, I hated her already. I wanted a brother. I mean, a little girl couldn't ride a bike. Couldn't shoot jars."

  He grins as if he remembers.

  "Pop came to get me as I was living with Ma at the time. I remember my dad telling me I was a big brother now; I was responsible for looking after my baby sister to make sure she was safe and loved. I was still mad."

  He smirks, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "My pop's Ol' Lady, I liked her. She was a good woman." Bolt grins. "When she placed that little girl
in my arms, she grabbed on to my finger, and fuck, even at eight years old, I knew that I would do anything for her. Do all my old man asked and more."

  I hope this hasn't got a sad ending.

  "My old man was shipped off to war six months later, but I stayed with his Ol' Lady. She loved me more than my own mother. My mother was a bitch. I helped by feeding the baby, and I hated it when she cried." He scowls as if remembering. "I read to her every night, and when she took her first steps, it was towards me. I was fucking proud. I swear I was 6ft tall." He grins.

  I feel my lips curve. "What was her favorite book?"

  Something in his eyes alters as he looks straight at me. "The same one I read every night. How Much Do I Love You?"

  I smile, remembering all the time's mom had read it. "That was my favorite book. My mom read it to me..."

  I stop, looking at Bolt before I scramble off the floor as memories assault me of a boy my mom used to take me to visit. His scruffy dark hair, and then his face comes into focus with a pair of hazel eyes and a crooked smile—the words ‘Pretty Girl' echo in my mind.

  "Oh my God... You're real… You're him." I point at Bolt.

  Bolt's eyes widen, turning from a hazel color to an almost green.

  "Mom used to bring me to see a boy. It was our secret. She would cry every time we had to leave. He had scruffy dark hair, but his eyes… I have never forgotten them. They are yours... I mean, you've got his... I mean – you are him."

  He jumps off the bed, breaking the distance between us as he pulls me to him, and his hand goes to the back of my head, pulling me closer before he places a soft kiss in my hair.

  I lift my head from his chest. "You're my brother."

  That lopsided smirk appears as he nods. "Yeah, Pretty Girl."

  It is as if the words unlock something deep inside of me. "You used to call me that. I remember you. I asked Mom once, and she said you were my imaginary friend. I guess I believed her."

  He squeezes me tighter. "The last time I saw you, I was 14, and you were 6. We already moved chapters to be closer to you, but I knew something was wrong. Pops, our father, wouldn't take his eyes off you. Everywhere you went, he followed." He blows out a breath as his grip tightens on my arms like I am going to disappear.

  "I asked when you were coming back, and that was the only time I've ever seen him cry. He told me we had to keep you safe by staying away. If those motherfuckers found out you belonged to us, we could put you in danger. I was never to repeat your name. If I followed you, I was breaking my promise to keep you safe, and I couldn't do that."

  I don't realize the tears are falling until he wipes them away.

  "We've never forgotten you, Pretty Girl. Every birthday, every Christmas, Pop and I do something just for you. Pops’ kept tails on you from a distance, and we'd get a photo or two every couple of months."

  He shakes his head, eyes bouncing around my features as if he still doesn't believe I'm here.

  "When I walked into the kitchen, I knew. Everything inside me told me it was you. Those eyes, girl, are a dead giveaway. Pops' got the same. When I saw your tears over Ice, I lost my shit. My brother or not, I'll kick his ass. No fucker makes my sister cry."

  "You hurt Ice?" I go to take a step back, when he pulls me closer, his lips quirking.

  "He had it coming, plus our world is different. We'll be okay."

  He's right. I only saw the edges of the world The Horsemen lived in, but I knew things were dealt with within the club. I learned how strong that bond between them is.

  "Don't hurt him again. He's already hurting too much." Bolt's eyes soften at my words.

  "He doesn't deserve you. No one does, but if it had to be anyone..." He nods, making me smile.

  "And you wanted me?" I hate how insecure I sound.

  He curses. "Always. We always fucking wanted you."

  I draw in a sob at how different my life might have been, and now I know the reason my mom sent me here. She knew I would find my family.

  "I didn't have it bad growing up, but I never belonged there. The Mendez hated my free spirit and that I didn't fall in line and act all meek like the rest of them." My voice is quiet as I remember all the lessons on how to act and speak. How Carlo's... tasks become harsher as I aged, along with the punishments that followed. I used to daydream of a family where they loved me for who I was, my sharp tongue and all.

  He laughs, not seeing the dark memories I try to hide.

  "Trust me, you get that from Pops, and he will love it."

  My eyes widen. "Does he know I'm here?"

  "Already on his way. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could stop him."

  Tears swim in my eyes. "That's why Mom sent me here. If I had known what was waiting for me, I would have driven straight here. I'm sorry."

  "Pops went looking for you, hired a private detective to try and find you, and called in favors from different clubs. Girl, you got some serious skills. We followed a few leads that led to dead ends. Ones that were right, but you skipped just before we got there. Do you realize how hard it is to avoid Carlo and us at the same time?"

  I jump, recoiling from his touch, afraid. How had I forgotten? The whole reason I'd been running in the first place, and the deepest, darkest secret I hold, but his words don't make sense.

  "You mean Marco? Carlo can't be looking for me." Hiding the real me, the one draped in crimson—the murderer.

  He watches me as a deep frown appears. "Marco is dead; throat slit in his hotel room a few weeks ago. Not Carlo."

  I stagger backward. "No." Bolt has it wrong. I remember how the knife went into his stomach. The metallic smell, his cry, the way he reached out for me before he fell down the stairs. His body was lying there lifeless. He was dead. I killed him.

  "You're wrong? I killed Carlo… You've got to be wrong?" a broken whisper falls from me as I search his eyes. Bolt pulls out his phone. Fear instantly locks all my muscles when I see the man in the photo getting into his car.

  "One of my guys took this a week ago." He scrolls through a few more.

  The truth punches me, robbing the breath from my lungs as all the pieces fall into place.

  Carlo isn't dead, and he killed his father. Marco never approved of the marriage that Carlo wanted. He usually placated him with lavish vacations and whores to spend the night in his bed. There is only one reason he killed his father: he's coming for me.

  "I need to go now. I need to leave." I can hear the anguish in my voice, echoing off the walls around me. My chest starts to constrict as my hands tremble, and a bead of sweat travels down my back. What have I done? Oh, God…

  I’ve led Carlo here. Brought him to the Horsemen's door. He had already taken my mother and Gino. No more blood will be spilled because of my foolishness.

  "You're not leaving. We just got you back," he spits angrily. I can't make out the rest of his words over the rushing blood that thrashes through me. It was all an illusion. He let me believe I was free. Gave me hope, only to tear it all away.

  I spin and face him. "You don't know what he did to me." I grit my teeth, trying not to fall into the abyss. I stand stronger. "You have no idea what will happen if he catches me."

  His eyes turn almost all brown as anger whirls in them, making him look just as perilous as the men downstairs.

  "He's not getting you. The brothers will protect you. We will die first," he speaks deliberately and with the same venom as the deadliest snake. Holding his arms wide. "Fuck, Pretty Girl, look around you. You've got a whole club that is willing to lay down for you."

  I shake my head. Bolt doesn't know how true those words could become. No one knows Carlo like me, the real evil that hides beneath his suits and composed smiles. I have scars across my body proving how cruel he is—the pure wrath of his brutality.

  "You don't know him like I do. What he's capable of," I hiss.

  Bolt doesn't take me seriously. Instead, he holds my face, matching the force of his next words.

  "He's already killed on
e brother, and we won't allow another." The threatening pitch should shock me as I see the demons underneath his skin for the first time and the lethal look in his eyes.

  The realization of what he is saying sinks in, knowing my nightmares have come true.

  "He's already here, isn't he? He killed Champ?" I cover my mouth with my hand as I take a step back, keeping my eyes on his as he nods. "I broke my own rules. I stayed too long. He is punishing me again. He's here for me." It all tumbles out as I absorb everything, processing it all, as my mind tries to stop spinning.

  I will never forget coming home and hearing my parents screams, and the blood, so much blood. I raced towards them, watched as Carlo and his men butchered them, saying it was all my fault. All on me. How I dared to disobey him. Now his sights are set on the Horsemen.

  Bolt runs to my side, wiping tears as they fall, exposing the pain in his eyes because he does care.

  "It's not your fault. Did you shoot Champ? Was it your bullet that killed him?"

  I shake my head. No, but it might as well have been. I broke the rules that kept everyone safe because I fell in love. Made friends and stayed. I was tired of running, and I wanted something more than the hollowness inside of me. I dared to hope, to let the glimmer grow. I had been selfish, and now, the people I care for are in danger.

  "Exactly. None of this is your fault! Carlo is a sick fuck, and the world will be better off when he's six feet under, and we're gonna make sure that happens. Okay?"

  I nod against his chest. Already knowing there is only one way to end this.

  Bolt kisses my forehead before moving away. "I need to go. Are you going to be okay?"

  I try to smile. "Yeah."

  "I'm so goddamn sorry I wasn't there after Rose died and when you felt alone."

  I give him a real smile, and my heart shatters at the sincerity in his voice.

  "It isn't your fault, Bolt. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over. Isn't that what you just told me?"

  His lips twitch. "I always knew you were damn smart."

  I smile as I watch my brother go to leave. "Bolt." He turns around. "Thank you for loving me."

  He sucks in a breath before nodding. I don't miss the tear that falls down his cheek before he turns, closing the door.