Wicked Legacy: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Rough Jesters MC Book 8) Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Wicked Legacy copyright @ 2019 by Brook Wilder and Scholae Palatina Inc. All rights reserved. This is an Advanced Review Copy, and no part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

  Join my mailing list and receive your copy of Widow Maker, prequel of the Rough Jesters MC series: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/vu0t02km9b

  BOOKS IN THE ROUGH JESTERS MC SERIES

  BOOK 1: SAVAGE ANGEL

  BOOK 2: BROKEN BEAUTY

  BOOK 3: CORRUPT HONOR

  BOOK 4: RUINED MERCY

  BOOK 5: SINFUL HAVEN

  BOOK 6: TAINTED DESIRE

  BOOK 7: OUTLAW VIRTUE

  BOOK 8: WICKED LEGACY

  BOOK 9: SHATTERED GRACE

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Wicked Legacy

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  A Word from Brook Wilder

  OTHER BOOKS BY BROOK WILDER

  Wicked Legacy

  Prologue

  Cora

  I wiped down the bar for the second time in the last hour, my eyes flitting to the clock hanging on the wall. It was almost closing time and while my exhausted body was ready for my bed, the hour upon me also filled my heart with dread.

  If I hadn’t needed the money so badly, I might have called in sick.

  But there were bills to pay, big bills, and the cabinets were already bare as it was now, with little food to go around in the house.

  No, I had to come to work.

  I used to like my bartending job at the Drunken Worm. I enjoyed tending to the locals and the usually good-tipping tourists that wandered in there from time to time, their skin sunburned from the Mexican sun. With the Gulf of Mexico only a few streets over from the bar, we got most of the traffic.

  Not only that, they liked to come and ogle the worms floating around in the bottles of tequila, daring each other to order a shot.

  I bathed in that silliness, using my feminine wiles to garner as many big tips as I could. Most of all, though, I enjoyed the interaction. Everyone had a different story and once the alcohol started to flow, people loved telling me their stories. I had met people from around the world, from all different walks of life, and with some of the same issues that everyone else had.

  If only one of them had the same issue I had right now.

  Drawing in a breath, I threw the rag into the sink and straightened the still-drying glasses on the rack. My boss, Red, had been pretty decent for the first few months of my hiring, giving me most of the tips I raked in and even letting me take home some of the greasy food that was cooked in the back without making me pay for it.

  Little did I know that he had other plans for me, plans that included me on my knees before him.

  A shiver shot through me and I looked at the clock again, knowing that soon he would come through the back door, whistling as he always did when it was time for closing. Together we would count the till so that he could make sure I hadn’t ripped him off and I could accept whatever tips he let me go home with.

  And then, his hand would slide to the small of my back, touching the patch of skin between my shirt and tight black pants, and he would escort me to the storeroom where I would be forced to suck his cock.

  I hated it. I hated the fact that I had to service him in such a manner to keep my job, disgusted by the sight of his ugly cock every time he pulled it out of his pants.

  His instructions had been clear. I would do this as often as he wanted it, if I wanted to keep my job, and any way he wanted it done. Lately he had started grabbing the back of my head, bringing tears to my eyes as he forced himself down my throat, clearly enjoying the fact that he was choking me.

  I vomited in the alley every time I stumbled out of the bar afterward.

  I felt dirty. No matter how many showers I took or how I tried to block it out of my mind, I couldn’t shake the leering grin Red gave me, or how I was subjected to this torture in an effort to keep my head above water in this town.

  This week alone, I had been taken to the storeroom twice, hiding my shame behind a false smile. Red never approached me when there was other staff around, though I often wondered if he treated anyone else the way he treated me.

  If so, they kept it to themselves.

  Tonight, I was by myself due to the fact that the bar was slow midweek and there was no need to have another bartender here. Plus, the rain was falling in buckets outside, chasing away any revelers that would usually be hanging around in the street or near the beach.

  The door opened and a lone man stepped in, shaking the rain from his dark hair as he closed the door behind him. His gaze slid over the empty bar before it landed on me and I felt something warm curl in my stomach as I stared into a pair of beautiful gray eyes.

  Wow. I didn’t think I had ever seen gray eyes before.

  “You still open?”

  I glanced at the clock. “You have about ten minutes.”

  His boots thudded on the scuffed wooden floor as he approached the bar. “That’s long enough to drink a beer.”

  I gave him my best smile. “Just a beer? What about a shot of tequila?”

  His eyes—Lord, they were beautiful—glanced over the shelves of tequila bottles behind me. “No. Just a beer.”

  I nodded and he took a seat on the barstool as I grabbed a beer from the cooler in front of me, popping off the top with my bottle opener before handing it to him. He grabbed the beer and I watched in rapt attention as he took a long draw, taking in the harsh lines of his face, the scruff of a beard covering a strong jaw.

  He was dressed in a dark T-shirt, the rain causing the material to cling to the corded muscles of his shoulders and arms, where the barest hint of a tattoo snaked out from under the collar and onto his tanned neck.

  He also wasn’t from around here. “On vacation?” I asked lightly, the silence of the bar deafening.

  He placed the beer on the bar top, a hint of a smile on his face. “No, not exactly. Work related.”

  “Bad night to be doing work,” I said, reaching for another beer since he had nearly drained the first one. “This one’s on me.”

  He arched a brow. “For what?”

  I gave him a shrug. “No reason. You just look like you need it.”

  “Thanks.”

  His voice slid over me in a silky timbre and I shivered for an altogether different reason, my skin heating as his gaze lingered on my breasts just a hair longer than could be perceived as polite. “What time do you get off?”

  I looked at the clock again. “Five minutes. Why?”

  He reached over, extending his hand. “Clayton.”r />
  I shook it, feeling the roughness of his skin as it scraped against mine. What would that hand feel like sliding over some of my more sensitive areas?

  What was I thinking? It had been too long since I had truly had some sort of encounter with a man, Red excluded. “Cora.”

  My name came out in a rush and his thumb lightly caressed the back of my hand before he released it. “Well, Cora. You look like you could use a drink yourself, maybe even a meal.”

  My breath caught. I could leave with Clayton and bypass Red for one night. Plus, he was right. I was starving. “You are good at reading people.”

  There was that grin again. “So I have been told, but your growling stomach gave it away, I’m afraid.”

  I found myself laughing, feeling some of the tension ebb away. I hadn’t enjoyed myself like this in months, if not longer than that.

  Not with Red breathing down my neck, putting me in situations that I was helpless to get out of.

  Maybe I did need a night where I forgot who I was and threw caution to the wind. Clayton was willing to help me do that.

  Just then, the distinct sound of Red’s whistling drew my attention and I stepped back from Clayton, instantly nervous as he came through the swinging door. “Cora,” Red said, his eyes narrowing as he saw I still had a customer. “We’re closed.”

  Clayton gave him a half shrug, picking up his beer. “Just finishing a drink, partner. Cora here was keeping me company, like a good bartender.”

  There was an underlying tone that had Red’s face changing colors and I grabbed the empty bottle, throwing it in the trash. “The till is already counted if you want to go ahead and check my math.”

  My words distracted Red and he walked over to the cash register, doing just that. I knew that he was a stickler for money and didn’t like to be shafted one penny.

  “So,” Clayton continued as he picked up his other beer. “We on, or are you afraid of the rain?”

  I wiped my damp palms on my pants. I could either stay here with Red and do my other services or go out on a limb with Clayton, taking the rest of the night for whatever came our way.

  It wasn’t a hard decision. “I’m in.”

  “The till is good,” Red stated, clearly irritated that Clayton was hanging around. “Close the damn bar.”

  I grabbed my bag from under the counter, throwing it over my shoulder before exiting from behind the bar. “I will lock the front door.”

  Clayton took my cue and stood, throwing a twenty on the counter, far more than his beer cost. “Have a good night.”

  I didn’t bother to look back as we exited into the rain together.

  Chapter 1

  Cora

  Five Months Later

  I sat on the hard examination table, rubbing my arms with my hands to keep the goose bumps at bay. Why they kept the doctor’s exam rooms so cold was beyond me. It wasn’t like anyone liked to be in here.

  “I told you to bring a jacket.”

  Looking over at my sister, I stuck out my tongue. “I do it so you can tell me how wrong I am all the time.”

  She rolled her eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. She had brought a jacket, by the way. “I thought that the idea of being a mother would make you grow out of childish things like sticking out your tongue.”

  I sobered at her words, my hand going over my stomach instinctively. I hadn’t planned to become a mother at age twenty-four. I had all sorts of things I wanted to do with my life before I had kids.

  Like get married.

  Or even have a stable relationship.

  Or a good job.

  I had none of the above. I still had the same crappy bartending job, the pregnancy forcing me to take longer breaks than usual, to the irritation of my boss, Red.

  Plus he couldn’t very well get me on my knees with my protruding belly, which had been a godsend in that regard. The first time he had tried after I found out I was pregnant had resulted in me puking all over his cock and him slapping me as a result.

  It had been the first and last time he had raised his hand to me and for the most part, he stayed away from me now, as if I had suddenly turned into someone he was disgusted by.

  I didn’t care. As much as I wanted to tell him to shove the job up his ass, I couldn’t. I needed the money, more so than ever, and trying to get another one in my condition was going to be damn near impossible.

  I was stuck.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Emily’s soft voice penetrated my hazy thoughts and I drew in a breath, swinging my legs. “It’s okay. I didn’t take it personally.”

  “I just can’t believe you are going to be a mom and I am going to be an aunt. It’s crazy to even think we will have a kid in the house in a few short months.”

  I smiled, patting my stomach. I couldn’t believe it either. The doctor had said that the baby, a girl, was growing like she should, and everything looked good. At this rate, my due date was right on target. “I hope she is ready for her crazy aunt.”

  Emily returned my smile with a grin of her own. “Yeah, well this will be a tough-as-nails girl. She won’t take any shit from anyone.”

  That was the plan. Since I didn’t have much of anything in my own name, I had moved in with Emily the moment I had found out that I was pregnant. I was going to need her help with this kid, having no idea what I would be doing once the baby was born.

  Neither did Emily, but she was the older one and could figure it out a hell of a lot faster than I could. I didn’t know what I would do without her, really. She had kept me sane through the first month or two, urging me to go to the doctor when I had completely denied the entire thing, and helped me through the paperwork to get insurance and to be placed on a list for a nicer apartment than the one I lived in.

  She had also combed her fingers through my long hair as I cried about what Red had done to me and though she had urged me to file a report with the police, I couldn’t. That would mean losing my job and I needed that job more than ever.

  But I knew Emily was mad at me for something else. I refused to give up the baby’s father. I knew exactly who it was—well, what his first name was at least—and I had no intention of hunting him down and demanding help from him.

  Heck, I didn’t even know his last name, much less how to contact him. It had been a one-night stand, a glorious one-night stand at that, and nothing else.

  I could only hope that my daughter had his gray eyes as a result. That was about all I remembered of him, that and the massive tattoo on his back that looked like a shadow demon, the smoke curling up to the nape of his neck.

  In our brief few hours, I had traced my fingers over the bold lines, the amount of alcohol we had consumed like a fire in my belly.

  Not even a month later, I had been puking up my guts and realizing that Clayton had left more than just a warm memory.

  He had left his child as well.

  I wanted to hate him. I really did. I wasn’t prepared to take care of another human being. I could barely take care of myself. I had no stable job, no future ambitions.

  I was a nobody, and now there was going to be a little person who needed me, who would depend on me for his or her well-being.

  It was a scary thought.

  But it wasn’t Clayton’s fault. I had known that night that something like this could happen, even with us being careful and me on the pill. Neither were one hundred percent accurate and turned out, it wasn’t just a lie that TV told you.

  I was walking proof.

  Now my focus was going to have to change. Though Emily hated the fact that I wouldn’t give up my job at the bar, I was only planning to hold out until the baby was born. Once I wasn’t pregnant anymore, I could maybe find a better job, something that could support my little family. Emily’s job as a laboratory technician couldn’t keep all of us afloat.

  I just had to make it to the end of the pregnancy and stay out of Red’s way.

  “I hope all that smoke coming out of your ears is because
you are contemplating telling me who this baby’s father is.”

  I shook my head, seeing the pull of disapproval on her face. “I can’t. I mean, I want to do this by myself. I’ve already told you. It was a one-night stand, nothing else.”

  “Then why do you get all dreamy-eyed when you say anything about it?”

  “Because it was really great sex,” I snapped at her, tired of this same discussion.

  Her mouth tightened. “God, you don’t have to be so vulgar.”

  What else did she want me to say? It was the truth. There was nothing else. My time with Clayton had been a reprieve from a night in Red’s hands and I had taken full advantage of it. Once the dawn had approached, I had snuck out and that was that.