Danville Kentucky: An MC Romance (Scars Book 2) Read online

  Danville, Kentucky

  Scars Series (Book Two)

  An MC and Small Town Romance

  By Robin Edwards

  © Copyright 2015-2019 by Robin Edwards

  and Second Chances Press

  All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited, and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher. Names and persons in this eBook are entirely fictional. They bear no resemblance to anyone living or dead. To protect the privacy of certain individuals the names and identifying details have been changed. This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Before You Begin Reading…

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

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  “When you hold resentment toward another, you are bound to that person or condition by an emotional link that is stronger than steel. Forgiveness is the only way to dissolve that link and get free.”

  - Catherine Ponder

  Before You Begin Reading…

  Danville, Kentucky is the second book in the Scars series. This series is currently a fan favorite and takes a look into the lives of the residents in Danville. Southern Riders which is the first book shows the dynamic between Jessie and Darryl.

  In the 2nd Book, Danville, Kentucky we find out about what has taken place since the climax at the end of Southern Riders and in this book, we meet two new characters – Chelsea and Cole – who try very hard to not only assimilate to their new environments but try to obtain some peace and quiet. Which will be tough to do because they share a past, a past both of them want to forget.

  XOXO,

  Robin

  Prologue

  COLE

  Ten years ago

  There wasn’t enough bourbon in this glass to make me a believer; that coming here was worth the risk. I mean how did they expect me to react when our Vice President Wyatt Hayes revealed we were heading to a strip club. I mean, come on, everywhere you looked there was an exotic dancer available for any type of man as long as he was looking for a not-so-cheap thrill. I mean two legs wrapped around your waist, counter clockwise gyrations…well, I won’t describe it but you get my point. On this particular evening, however, I might as well have been dead meat. As far as Chelsea was concerned, we were already here so I was guilty by association.

  If she ever found out that the boys and I went to the Flamingo after I told her we wouldn’t for Vic’s bachelor party weekend, then she’d put an end to whatever her and I had. I was already on thin ice because I didn’t want to put a label on us. What we had was a good thing, so why ruin it by giving it a definition? Unfortunately, though, it was Vic’s weekend and he wanted to have a wild night, so how could I say no?

  I guess to her was true what they say, whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. We both knew by the end of the night the guys and I were going to end up passed out on the floor of our rented suite. I couldn’t blame her, she had a point. I could see it happening – we would be clueless as to what happened the night before and with hangovers from hell. Let’s just say, I would end up regretting the fact that I didn’t listen to her and when Chelsea found out because she always did, I’d never hear the end of it.

  Don’t have strippers, she said.

  Don’t get shitfaced she said.

  Don’t do anything that’ll embarrass me, she said.

  Don’t do anything that’ll get back to my parents, she said.

  Her parents would find out too because one of her uncles was councilmember Morty Green and Councilmember Green knew everyone. He knew everyone who had any semblance of power and not just those within the political arena but he had major ties with well-known celebrities and business owners. It didn’t matter if I was a thousand miles away in Las Vegas, I’m sure he had connections here too. Not to mention, her family already disliked me for being in the Southern Riders Motorcycle Club, Danville’s only motorcycle club. They didn’t need any other reason to distrust me.

  All I had to do was follow the few simple rules Chelsea had given me before I left and the guys broke all of them three hours into the bachelor party weekend. If the shenanigans we’ve had on our way to Vegas was any indication of how this weekend was going to go, then it was definitely going to get much, much worse. I guess there goes whatever I had with Chelsea.

  The beginning of “hell weekend” started when junior member, Chris, was so shitfaced he let it all come out in the limo. Let’s not forget that he preferred to be called Topher but I refused to do it, I’m not calling him that – it’s stupid. Anyway, he had too many drinks in the limo and vomited half way out the window. Despite his attempt at not getting any in the limo, the wind was kind enough to blow some if it back inside. The odor on its own was horrendous.

  Then his brother, Aaron, thought it was funny to pick a fight with the most Herculean bouncer I’ve ever seen at some exclusive dance club nearby. Aaron was so shitfaced too, it suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t like the word exclusive, he just had to let the bouncer know that he belonged anywhere he wanted to go. If we hadn’t convinced the bouncer to not kick Aaron’s ass, he would have gotten a severe beat down. I don’t care if Aaron had a lot of liquid courage running through his system, there was no way he would win a fight with the bouncer. Sure, there were more of us but I didn’t believe in being an asshole to others just because we were Southern Riders, one of the toughest clubs in the state.

  Then there was the surf the limo’s roof moment, which brought us to twenty minutes ago. The night apparently wasn’t aggravating enough, so Vic (the groom-to-be) decided he wanted to see the city lights so I suggested he stand up and look through the sun roof. It was generally safe, but I guess he wasn’t close enough to the sky and he tried to climb onto the roof. Being the groom and the drunkest of us all, wasn’t a good enough reason to climb onto the roof of a vehicle and possibly fall off and plummet to one’s death. Thankfully, I managed to pull him down. It didn’t take much, he wasn’t strong or sober enough to pull himself up through the sunroof anyway.

  Despite all of my protests, we made an appearance at the sleaziest strip club Wyatt could find. According to Wyatt, it was his early wedding present to Vic and the strip club wasn’t just any ol’ place, this was the Michelin Star of sleazy strip clubs. I was afraid I would get a disease the second I stepped a foot through the front doors of a place like this.

  I was ready to leave and just sit in the limo while they all had their fun but I was at the mercy of the club. I was pretty much outnumbered. As best man to the future groom, Wyatt said that it was all about Vic and we all had an obligation to make the weekend memorable for him. I was already in trouble with Chelsea, I didn’t want to make matters worse if she ever found out so I asked the bartender for a club soda and sat in one of the plush purple chairs nursing my drink.

  To make matters worse, Victor didn’t think I was having eno
ugh fun so he bought me two shots of vodka straight up and a lap dance from an exotic dancer named Lacey. According to Lacey, I was in for the time and ride of my life.

  I was so lucky. Not.

  “Bottom’s up.” I muttered under my breath before half-heartedly saluting Victor for the “gift”. In his drunken stupor, gave me a wink and a wolf whistle as I practically inhaled one of the shots of vodka. I wouldn’t have been surprised if other patrons in the establishment thought I was the groom in this pack of men I often referred to as my brothers in arms. Sure, we weren’t really related but I was close with some of them as any blood relationship I had out there.

  The good news was our first night in Las Vegas eventually ended without anyone in our group getting arrested. The bad news was knowing I had two more days of this. It was going to be more babysitting, drunken chaos and just overall disorderly conduct. It’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, and nothing disastrous will happen. I hope.

  I didn’t think there was anything wrong with not enjoying being in Las Vegas and celebrating Vic’s soon-to-be wedding like the rest of the group but there were some people out there in the world like me who didn’t see the entertainment value of strip clubs and getting shitfaced until you blacked out. Some people just didn’t enjoy that sort of thing.

  A nervous chuckle escaped my lips as Lacey the dancer started to gyrate her hips half an inch above my groin. Yep, I was dead meat.

  More vodka please.

  I downed the second glass of vodka quickly only to freeze when Lacey started to whisper in my ear, asking if I wanted to have a private show, “No thank you.”

  Next thing I knew, Vic started to shove a lot of bills down her G-string.

  Shit.

  Panicked, I look at the rest of the crew and they were all distracted by their own attentive dancers. I gently urged Lacey off my lap, which was now sporting a slight tent, before she could convince me to go with her to one of the secluded rooms in the back.

  “Ahem, uh, could I have a few minutes?”

  “Sure thing doll, just let me know when you’re ready to party,” she said before she strutted off to find her next paying victim.

  I wasn’t one to judge but I hoped she actually left to take a break for herself as farfetched as that idea was in this type of establishment. If she did take a break, she wasn’t the only one that needed time to themselves. Any day of the week, I’d be ecstatic to get a lap dance from a hot chick but ever since I started spending time with Chelsea, I turned a blind eye towards every other woman I came across. She was enough for me.

  Everyone I knew said I was into her more than I cared to admit and even suggested I ask her to be my old lady but I couldn’t do that. Chelsea wasn’t the type of woman that became an “old lady”. Becoming an old lady meant that she was permanently mine until she no longer was and until then no other club member could claim her for their own. Chelsea was far too smart, sophisticated and independent to be a part of the Southern Riders. She was educated and a business owner’s daughter. She was meant for big things like starting her own food based business one day.

  She wasn’t like the other women that hung around the clubhouse like bar flies, she could have any well-to-do man she wanted, she was far too busy dreaming and making plans. Despite her ambition and my flaws, she still chose to spend time with me. So I owed it to her not to screw this up.

  “Hey, guy, your time is up.” Lacey returned and warned me with an impatient look.

  “Thank God.” I sighed with relief.

  “Well, you weren’t that great either, jerk!” she sneered and walked away in a huff. Her brown pony tail swayed back and forth in tune with her enraged steps.

  I sighed again, “No, look, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant!” I called after her but it was too late. She was already insulted. If I didn’t know how annoyed she was before, after being flipped the bird, I definitely knew it after.

  Wyatt’s hand slapped my right shoulder, “You still don’t have any luck when it comes to picking up women, do you? You’d think after finding yourself a hot piece of ass like Chelsea, you’d have some game but I guess not. You need to work on your game, pretty boy.”

  “I wasn’t trying to pick her up, I just trying to get out of a lap dance.” I shrugged.

  “Who in God’s name would ever say no to a lap dance? Don’t tell me you swing for the other team?” Wyatt eyed me suspiciously.

  With two hands waving frantically, “Whoa, no…no…I’m just saying I just wasn’t in the mood.”

  “Not in the mood? Ah, you must having problems with little lady but that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it either.”

  “You’ve been holding out on me man, what have you done?” Victor asked as he joined our uncomfortable and awkward repartee.

  “What have I done? What makes you think I did something wrong? Sometimes it could be Chelsea’s fault too.”

  “When I set you up with my sister, I expected you to treat her right but I didn’t expect you would still be pussy whipped after the first week. I know Chelsea, everything is always going to be your fault but you don’t have to take it up the ass either. Stand your ground man.” Victor slapped me on the back to emphasize his point.

  “I do.”

  “Then what’s the matter then? You either did something or you didn’t. If you didn’t do anything wrong you wouldn’t be standing here whining about it. Look around you, we’ve practically died and gone to heaven!”

  Like a cornered animal, I panicked immediately. Shit. Come on, Cole, think. Think. “I…well, it’s like this…”

  “If you two are going to swap stories, hold hands and sing kumbaya then I’m out of here.” Wyatt shook his head in embarrassment and walked away.

  “I’m going to need something other than stuttering,” Vic stated, already bored with my half-assed explanation.

  I couldn’t think of a lie. Not a single one. I was pathetic and no matter what I said, he wasn’t going to believe it. The truth was, Vic was right. I was pussy whipped but not in the way he thought I was. While it was true Chelsea and I fought like cats and dogs off and on, we always made up within a day. We couldn’t stay mad at each other. Lately, however, we haven’t been seeing eye-to-eye and haven’t solved it quickly either.

  I wouldn’t call Vic and Chelsea super close siblings but they were close enough to not withhold secrets from one another. When they were younger, coming from a difficult upbringing Chelsea depended on Vic for support and he always sought out to protector her. As adults, he never let her date anyone he didn’t approve of whether she liked it or not but she listened anyway. She trusted his opinion and somehow through all of his protectiveness, I was the first person in a long time he approved of. We were club brothers after all.

  I didn’t doubt Chelsea must have confided in Vic at some point about what was going on between her and I but I knew Vic too. He was trying so hard to act like he didn’t know what was going on for brotherhood sake, believing Chelsea and I would work it out eventually. I’m sure Vic was itching to hear about it from me but I couldn’t tell him what was going on.

  For a several weeks now, Chelsea has had the strange idea in her head that I was cheating on her with one or several of the other women that hung around the club. She was practically at her wit’s end, convinced I was seeing someone else. I didn’t blame her, my behavior lately had been erratic. I was coming home late just to go to bed immediately and then leave early in the morning before she woke up. I rarely made time for the two of us, not even time to for something other than small talk. I was always stressed out.

  As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t tell her a damn thing and even if I did tell her the truth, she’d hate me for it. Every thought in my head urged me to tell her but I vowed to keep everything a secret. As much as I hated keeping secrets from Chelsea, she was going to find out eventually. That time was coming up and I was dreading the day when she found out what I’ve held back. Once she found out, she was going to hate me forever. They all w
ould but it had to be done.

  Most of the residents in the town of Danville, Kentucky were born and raised here, never getting the urge to leave. Danville was the kind of small town where everyone knew everyone and the gossip ran through the grapevine quickly. It was impossible to keep it a secret before someone found out and spread the information like wildfire, so I was grateful no one blew my cover.

  I was an undercover deputy for the Danville Sheriff’s Department.

  The Sheriff’s department had tips on illegal and underground activity running through Danville and it was just rumors until one of our own deputies was murdered while checking out a tip. We hadn’t taken the rumors of illegal activity seriously until the murder.

  As part of the investigation, the department inquired with all of the residents in town but we didn’t come up with any substantial leads. It was tough in a town like this where everyone knew everyone, people were scared to talk. Everyone was afraid that the rumors were true and the Southern Riders were involved and if they were, residents were afraid of retaliation.

  The fear made it impossible to prove the Southern Riders were involved and while the club had been just a public disturbance for years, we were foolish to think they weren’t involved. As involved in the club as I was while undercover, I wasn’t high enough in the ranks to be involved in anything beyond any misdemeanor activities. I just wasn’t quite high enough in the chain of command or trusted enough at first to be involved in more.

  I wish I had an easy answer to why I made the choices I was confronted with but when it came down to it, I had a job to do. When I joined the Danville Sheriff’s Department as one of the newest deputies, I was eager and hungry. I was so hungry to get in the middle of the action, I agreed to go undercover and pretend to be a new probate for the Southern Riders. While it was risky and dangerous for an inexperienced deputy, I agreed to apply as a probate. Once I passed probationary period, I had to do whatever I had to do to find out any information about the club as discreetly as possible. My goal was to find out about the club inside and out, especially about any criminal activities they might have been involved in.