The Last Betrayal Read online

  Copyright © 2015 by L. Grubb

  All rights reserved.

  The Last Betrayal is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events are the products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any form or by any other means without permission from the Author.

  Cover model: Bailey Lee

  Photographer: Eric Battershell

  Agency: Uncovered Models

  Cover Designer: Clarissa Wild

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Firstly, I want to thank my amazing cover designer, Clarissa Wild - www.boomingcovers.blogspot.com - for designing my AMAZING cover. I love it. And because perfection is her middle name, she’s made it that way. Amazing talent and an amazing friend.

  I want to thank my amazing friend, Sheila Kell. She’s been absolutely fantastic and has helped me so much with getting this book to get it as close to perfect as possible. She’s a valued friend and much like family to me. Without her this book would probably be a complete mess. Thank you! (FANTASTIC AUTHOR too!)

  Kelly Hamley, you’ve supported me since I first started writing and without the encouragement you sent my way, I would never of even got passed the first book! (AMAZING AUTHOR too!)

  My STREET TEAM, thank you so, so much for all your support, even before reading my work you showed untimely support, and I will be forever grateful.

  Amy-Beth, you’ve been awesome since I started writing, and your faith in me is awesome. Thank you so much! (AMAZING AUTHOR too!)

  Keren Hughes, by far my #1 fan! You’ve been nothing short of fantastic to me, making me swag, designing my bookmarks and telling me how much you love my book. Both of them, seeing as you read this one as I wrote it! I love ya to piece - remember you’re like a sister to me. Xx

  My mum, Jacs Dugdale, for supporting me in my adventure into writing.

  My auntie Liane, you’ve inspired me so much! When you wrote your first book, I knew I wanted to follow in your footsteps, and here I am! Thank you for always believing in me.

  Lastly, my little princess. Sofia. I love you so much baby girl, you inspire me everyday to be a better person, to not slip off the deep end. I love you unconditionally, and I love watching you grow into your own little person. You battle your severe eczema with so much pride, that I envy you for your not letting other kids pick on you because of your face, and how brave you are through you asthma episodes. I love you so much, princess. <3 Here’s to our future! *raises can of coke*

  I was unglued. Completely unhinged to the point of flipping everyone off and saying fuck this shit, packing my stuff and riding across the country where no one can find me.

  My heart feels like it’s bleeding out of control pumping blood in the wrong direction. Cracked and shattered, it would take a lifetime to repair.

  I may have known Lauren just a few months, but she flew in, wreaking havoc with her bubbly persona, latching onto me like I was her goddamn lifeline.

  It was all fucking crap. It was just a bit of fun for her, she told everyone she wasn’t ready to settle down with the white picket fence and two-point-five kids. Did I ask for that shit? Hell to the fucking no. Never once did I mention I wanted all that. I just wanted her, as she was, but mine; only mine.

  She broke me. Big bad biker dude and she fucking broke me.

  My name’s Champ, and it’s my turn to fucking talk.

  The last month has been difficult. Ever since we found out the reason behind the Hell Riders’ unlawful attacks against us, things have been a little tense, uncomfortable even. We don’t blame Cobra as such, but we don’t understand why he kept it to himself for all these years; harboring the guilt and risking this club was a dumbass idea. He also nearly lost his girl because of it. Luckily, she took him back. The world’s a happier place when Cobra isn’t a grumpy asshole.

  We’ve had a couple of runs since the day from hell happened, nothing to get the blood pumping fast, rushing adrenaline through your body, requiring a good fuck afterward. Cobra hasn’t accompanied us on any since his gunshot wound is still giving him too much shit for him to ride.

  Not only was Cobra out of action and focusing solely on physio, I was a grumpy bastard that no one wanted to be around. That blame lies with Lauren.

  Even after saving her life and visiting her in hospital daily, she discharged herself without no one knowing, without telling me. I tried to call her, text her…fuck, I even turned up at her apartment, demanding the doorman to let me up and see her. She refused to see me even after I tried going through Alexis. What the fuck have I done that’s so damn bad that she can’t face me, left me with whirring thoughts and what if’s.

  Just thinking her name in my head makes me fucking angry. The way she left me high and dry, knowing I loved her... I can’t even finish my train of thought. I see fucking red. I don’t know whether I love her or hate her anymore, what emotion comes before the other. They’re fused together like stitches on my broken heart. My fists clench on the bar in front of me, I ground my teeth and my jaw twitches. Fuck this shit, I need a beer.

  “Yo! Brandy. Get me a Corona!” I shout across to her.

  “Sure thing, gorgeous.” She winks at me as she turns to grab my drink from the cooler. She’s been trying extra hard to get into my pants since Cobra has made it clear he’s in love with Alexis. And it pisses me off that I have to deal with this tramp while I wallow in self-pity.

  “Here,” she says, placing the cold bottle in front of me, condensation running down it to the wooden bar.

  She stands there staring at me, waiting for fuck knows what. “What, Brandy?”

  “Want to have some fun later?” She flutters her too long lashes at me. Yeah, like that shit is going to work on me.

  I stare at her like she has three heads. “You shitting me right now?”

  Her eyes go wide, and she takes a step back. I guess my face must look menacing enough to make her back off. I continue to glare at her ‘til she turns around and walks to the other end of the bar, grabs a towel and pretends to clean.

  I shake me head and take a long pull on my beer. The cold liquid flows down my throat in a cool embrace, pouring into my stomach and creating a lovely cool puddle. Licking my lips, I turn to look around. No one is in the main room with me. I’m that miserable that I must have an angry red aura surrounding me. I don’t give a fuck. Everyone can just fuck off.

  I stare down at my Corona, my hands absently outlining the letters on the bottle, lost in thought about what Lauren is up to. Not that I really give a shit.

  “Champ?”

  Prez. Joy oh joy. “What?” I respond gruffly, not gracing him with a look, no emotion showing on my face other than annoyance.

  “Don’t speak to me like that, boy,” he warns me. “You need to cheer the fuck up and move on.”

  “You telling me what to do?” I ask, incredulously. “Just because you have a happy marriage, doesn’t mean we all have to have one.”

  He growls low in his throat, another warning at my tone, I guess. “I’m trying to look out for you, son. You’re making it difficult for anyone to help you.”


  I release a heavily burdened sigh. He has a point; I am making shit difficult. “Sorry, Prez. I’m just enraged, resentful...all of those fucked up emotions.”

  “There’s a party here tonight, maybe you can find some sweet pussy to get lost in for a few hours. That should help.” He pats me on the back as he turns to leave, stalking out of the room with a swagger only he can pull off.

  I sit and contemplate the Prez’s words. He’s right. A little blonde slut’s pussy would be perfect right now. I need to fuck Lauren out my system before I have a meltdown in front of the brothers.

  I finish my beer and remove my ass from the stool, intent on heading to my room for a power nap before the party. Shit isn’t that easy though.

  “Champ!” Chip yells over to me from the patio doors. “Come here, brother.”

  Ugh, seriously? Can no fucker leave me alone today? I walk over to him, irritated as hell. “What do you want, Chip?”

  “Calm it, Champ. Just need a word.” He shakes his head at me before turning and stepping into the backyard.

  “Can it not wait? I want to have a sleep before the party tonight,” I ground out, fighting to keep the anger out of my voice.

  “Not really, it’s been hard enough trying to approach you the last month. This can’t wait though,” he replies, taking a seat on one of the two plastic chairs on the far side of the yard, away from others enjoying the weather.

  I take the other, folding my arms across my chest and staring at Chip and raising my brow.

  “Look, you can sit there and try to intimidate me all you want, but it’s not going to work. So drop that shit and listen.” He throws me a stern look before going on to explain why he asked to talk to me.

  “It’s about Lauren,” he starts.

  I clench my jaw at hearing her name on his lips. He knows I don’t want to hear a word about her, hell, every fucker here knows that. But he continues anyway.

  “She’s moving away.”

  “What?” I shout, pounding my fist on the metal patio table between us. “Why the hell is she leaving?” Why do I even care? I slowly relax back into my chair, an impassive expression on my face.

  “No idea where. Cobra told me this morning.” He shakes his head at my sudden aloofness to his information. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure. She isn’t mine to tell what to do,” I reply, getting to my feet and blindly wondering back inside the clubhouse. “Get me a whiskey neat please, Brandy,” I demand her, not looking away from my hands playing with a placemat.

  “Here.” She places the tumbler in front of me before moving away quickly to the other side of the bar, putting as much distance between us as possible.

  I sit on the stool, quietly contemplating my thoughts. Why would she want to move away? As far as I knew, her family and friends are all here in LA. Would she really just up and leave her best friend?

  I shove my hands through my unruly blond hair, frustrated that I can’t even call her to ask. Instead of worrying about what the fuck she does, I down my whiskey and order another. I’m going to get shitfaced and forget all about her.

  “Alexis?” I say into my cell when the call is connected. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Lauren! What’s up?” her cheery voice greets me after a few seconds of silence.

  “Nothing much. You busy?” I ask, pacing my kitchen. I’ve been doing this since I received a text message this morning. I honestly think I’ve worn a hole in the laminate flooring.

  “Not particularly. Cobra is just heading out on a run,” she states.

  I hear a motorcycle starting in the background and guess he’s just leaving.

  “Could you come over for a few? I need my best friend,” I choke out as my fight with holding back tears is defeated. Once again, I try to swallow them down, but they seem to have a mind of their own and stream down my face.

  “I’m coming over now, make us some coffee, and I’ll see you in five.”

  The incessant ringing tells me the line is dead, and I place my cell on the counter before pulling out the milk to make us two mugs of steaming caramel lattes.

  Around fifteen minutes later, I hear Alexis’ cheery voice ring through my apartment. “Lauren? I’m here!”

  “In the kitchen!” I yell back, setting the two mugs on the breakfast bar and taking a seat on one of the steel stools.

  “Hey, chick. You okay?” she asks tentatively, taking the seat beside me, grabbing her coffee and swiveling around to face me.

  “I had a text this morning,” I whisper, a lump forming in the back of my throat.

  “Who from?” A look of curiosity crosses her face.

  “Champ,” I mumble. A lone tear slides down my left cheek. I miss him. I do. But I had no choice but to leave him. He would never understand the hatred I have for myself because of it, about my own self-destruction. My body isn’t beautiful anymore, it’s marred with scars from a month ago. A devastating situation that brought harrowing pain on me both mentally and physically. My scars are proof of the evilness that occurred. Of the men that took me, beat me and stabbed me, torturing me with the hopes they could break me. Well, they didn’t.

  A shiver racks through my body, anxiety pulling in my gut as I remember those days that tore my life apart. I remember the mouldy smell of the dingy mattress in the damp room, the blood oozing from my open abdomen and my ankle chained, painfully constricting the blood that flows to my foot. I’m not the same girl anymore. I’ve changed. I’m a recluse. I tend not to leave my apartment unless necessary, knowing that people know what happened and stare at me like I’m some sort of alien. I can’t stand the looks of pity that other people throw at me either.

  “Lauren?” Alexis snaps her fingers in front of my face, and I shake my head to clear the torment ripping through my brain.

  “Sorry, I zoned out. Happens a lot these days,” I remark, giving her a small smile.

  She pats my hand resting by the side of my mug before saying, “What did the text say?”

  I grab my phone, the text open as no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to close or delete it, and handed it to Alexis. I look away and close my eyes, hoping she could do something I couldn’t. “You can delete it after.”

  I turn back to her and watch her read the text intently. Her jaw ticked the further on she reads before her eyes lift to mine. “Is he fucking shitting me right now?”

  “Exactly.” I shrug a shoulder before taking a sip of my now lukewarm coffee, anything to get rid of this perpetually dry lump in my throat.

  “Lauren...” she trails off. She swallows and her eyes mist over. “What a bastard.”

  “Yep, my thoughts exactly.”

  The intercom buzzing broke the silence of the room where we had both been lost in our own thoughts. Alexis gets up to answer it, and I give her a grateful smile.

  “Hello?” she says into the intercom phone. “Fuck you, Champ. You are not welcome here… No… She doesn’t want to see you…Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  Her voice rises to a high-pitched squeal before she slams the phone into its cradle. Stalking towards me, her face turns an angry shade of red. “The doorman let him in because he was making such a fuss. I’m sorry, babe.”

  “It’s okay. I will have to face him at some point,” I mumble in return, lowering my head and taking a few steady breaths so I can appear calm when I face him.

  The front door flies open and heavy boots thunder along the hallway floor towards us. Breathe in and out, in and out. Okay, I got this.

  I stand, turning to the archway of the kitchen, ready to face him. My limbs are shaking, and I’m finding it difficult to stand so I lean back against the breakfast bar, crossing my arms over my chest, my posture relaxed. I am not intimidated.

  His eyes display his hatred toward me, and I swallow hard, fighting that damn lump in my throat. This isn’t going to be fun.

  “Lauren,” he spits out, eyeing me from head to toe in disdain.

  “What do you want, Champ?”
I sigh, cocking my head to the side slightly, trying to look as if nothing was wrong even though my insides were churning.

  “Did you not get my text?” His cold tone did nothing to make me feel at ease.

  “Unfortunately, yes. Is that all you came by for? You kind of wasted your breath and your time by coming here. I don’t want to see you or speak with you.” I feel my chest getting tight and the panic clawing up my throat. Bile turning over in my stomach makes me feel nauseous.

  “Lauren, I just want to talk.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I miss you.”

  “And? You think that horrid little text you sent me was going to convince me to take you back? I don’t think so, buddy.”

  “Please. I haven’t done anything wrong to you. Or if I have, you haven’t explained to me what,” he pleads. Desperation clouds his beautiful, blue eyes. I can still see the hatred there, but that’s my fault for leaving, not explaining the why and what to him before running away.

  I sigh, biting the inside of my cheek, contemplating whether to talk to him. “Okay. Fine. Ten minutes.”

  “I’ll go. I’ll call you later, babe. Okay?” Alexis turns me so I’m facing her. “Or call me if you need me, Lauren.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  She kisses my cheek, throws a sorrowful and pity filled look at Champ, and exits. Hey, isn’t she supposed to be on my side?

  I round the breakfast bar to pour us both a coffee and to busy my shaking hands.

  The scraping of the stool against the floor alerts me that Champ has taken a seat behind me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before turning around to place the coffees down, one in front of him. I remain standing in the kitchen, keeping the breakfast bar between us as a protective buffer of sorts.

  The silence permeating the room was deafening, and the tension could be cut with a knife.

  “Speak then, Champ, or just go.” I sigh, not wanting to have this conversation.

  “Why did you leave, Lauren?” He looks into my eyes searching for the answers that he won’t see there.