Nyx: A Dark & Dirty MC Romance (Satan’s Sinners MC Book 1) Read online

  NYX

  SATAN’S SINNERS’ MC: ONE

  Serena Akeroyd

  Copyright © 2020 by Serena Akeroyd Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For the real Giulia.

  I can’t grant all my fans a big-dicked, heavily pierced biker for a hero, but if you put in a request… what’s an author supposed to do? ;)

  Love you, honey. <3

  Thanks for having my back. Always.

  Love

  Serena

  xoxo

  Contents

  Duh, duh, duuuuuuuhhhhh.

  Prologue

  1. Nyx

  2. Nyx

  3. Nyx

  4. Nyx

  5. Steel

  6. Nyx

  7. Link

  8. Nyx

  9. Giulia

  10. Nyx

  11. Giulia

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Also by Serena Akeroyd

  Duh, duh, duuuuuuuhhhhh.

  That’s my idea of a crescendo.

  Okay, guys, the name Nyx literally means night. As in… DARK.

  I mean, come on, I’m not going to write about a hero called DARK without the story being dark, am I? ;) I’d just be disappointing you.

  Personally, I don’t think it needs a warning, buuuuuutttt, Julia, my PA, said to me, “Gem—that’s my real name—it starts the way it starts—won’t spoil it—so, of course, it needs a trigger warning.”

  Well, I’m rebelling. This is about as much of a trigger warning as I’ll give you—if you don’t like dark books, then this might not be for you.

  So, you’ve been warned… now, into the darkness you go…

  Oh, and this song suppppper fits this book, so have a listen. <3

  Florence and the Machine - Blinding

  Love,

  Serena

  xoxo

  Prologue

  Nyx

  “Why the fuck are you doing this to me?”

  The scream had me frowning at Steel. “Is this guy a dumb fuck or what?”

  “It’s the blood loss,” Steel reasoned. “It’s all leaving his head, meaning he’s more stupid than usual.”

  I scowled at the logic. “Isn’t that how an erection works?”

  Steel shrugged. “Same difference.”

  As I eyed my handiwork, I muttered, “Not sure this goes under the same caption as erection, bro.”

  When he snickered, I grabbed one of Haune’s hands and selected a fat finger. “These filthy fucking paws have touched something they shouldn’t have. That’s why I’m doing this, you cunt.”

  His eyes widened. “No! No! I’ve been good. I haven’t done anything!”

  “Bullshit,” I snarled. “Little Jessie Dresden? She’s nothing, huh?” When he blanched, I whispered, “To you, I’m God. I see all, hear all, know all.” I pressed the blade to the digit and sliced it off. Blood instantly spurted, drenching me in the spray, but as he writhed, screaming in agony, all I could do was smile.

  “Unluckily for you, you have nine more fingers to go,” Steel noted, looking up from his phone. The irritating soundtrack to a game sounded, but I blanked it out.

  Haune’s screams reached a peak then. “Help me!” he shrieked, his desperation culminating in a wet patch on the front of his pants.

  “Ain’t no one gonna help a sick fuck like you, Sammy Boy,” I told him, satisfaction loading each word. “Just like no one can help Jessie now. No one except me.”

  And with that, I grabbed another finger and sliced off the fat chunk of flesh and bone.

  My night’s work was only just beginning.

  Fuck me, I had the best job in the world.

  One

  Nyx

  “Today, City Hall revealed that the police are treating the death of Samuel Haune as a homicide. This is the seventh murder of a known sex offender in three years within the state.”

  When the news came on the big screen TV in the bar, an immediate hush settled over the room.

  Sixty bikers—most of them so drunk they were wobbling on their feet—made a fuck ton of noise, but the second Link switched on the news that had a “Breaking Story” banner running along the bottom of it, everyone shut the hell up. A miracle in itself, but nothing compared to what I left behind in the tiny town of Bridgeton, New Jersey.

  One less fucked-up piece of shit walked the streets tonight.

  Because of me.

  Sure, Satan’s Sinners were involved too, and all the work that went down, all the logistics prior to the main event, weren’t organized by me, but the kill?

  That was all mine.

  “Mr. Haune was a known pedophile, whose release from prison triggered public outrage. He refused police protection, ignored advice against returning to his hometown, and had received several death threats since his release from incarceration.

  “The Chief of Police confirmed the authorities are seeking a link between the murders, and are also conferring with other states for similar vigilante-style homicides. As it stands, detectives are looking for witnesses who might have been in the vicinity of the Johnson Reeves playground yesterday around 2 AM.

  “A few people spoke with us today and recalled the gruesome sight of what they could only call a lynching—”

  As the story switched to videos of interviews with witnesses, the silence remained for a second before a bunch of hollers soared around the bar. I grinned at the noise, then let Rex, my Prez, grab me by the arm so he could pump our fists into the air as we celebrated our twenty-ninth slaughter. Twenty-two of which hadn’t been linked because they’d gone down all over the US, with only seven here in New Jersey.

  Sure, we’d get arrested for our crimes if we were discovered, but I considered it a fate worth testing, and knowing what they did about my past? The Sinners did too.

  We were an MC. A one-percenter club that was bad to the bone, but we didn’t fuck with kids. Kids were sacrosanct within our ranks, and we protected them. Didn’t matter if they belonged to one of the brothers or not, we defended them when the legal system didn’t.

  As the party started up again, Rex mumbled in my ear, “You need another tattoo.”

  My smirk of satisfaction widened. “Sure as fuck do.” My back was a patchwork quilt of tattoos that were linked to the deaths of twenty-nine monsters who’d raped, abused, beaten, and/or killed children.

  The first one represented my own monster. Well, mine and my sister’s. I’d survived that cunt, but she hadn’t.

  And I’d made that fucker pay. Just as I made them all pay. The thought alone had me cracking my knuckles. Survivor’s guilt had morphed into a rage that would never be appeased, forged from a grief so strong that thirty years after her passing, I still mourned her as much as I had the day I’d found her swinging from the rod in her fucking closet.

  “You’re going to run out of space soon,” Cruz pointed out from behind the bar. He was pouring beers as fast as my brothers were shoving their glasses at him, while Sin was ‘helping’ by handing out tequila shots, except for every two shots he poured, he took a guzzle from the bottle too. Not that I begrudged the fucker his poison—he’d been the one to help me string Haune up. He deserved a little respite.

  “That’s a problem I can deal with,” I stated grimly, staring down into my shot glass. When Rex slap
ped me on the back, then gripped my shoulder, I asked him, “Did everything else go down alright last night?”

  He cocked a brow. “Did I call church?”

  I winced at the quiet reprimand. “No.”

  “Well then, all’s good, man.” The handsome bastard’s grin twisted along his jaw. “Enjoy your success. You earned it, bro. That fucker…” He whistled. “Squealed like a pig.”

  “I know.” Satisfaction sang through my veins. “Made him pay.”

  “You make them all pay.” Rex cut me a look, and I knew, deep in his eyes, there was concern buried within those baby blues.

  “I’m okay, man,” I assured him quietly, uneasy at the sight. I knew he cared, but his concern, today at any rate, wasn’t necessary. Of course, it wasn’t like you could switch that shit off and on. We weren’t kin, but we might as well have been. Rex loved me like we were family, and in a way, we were.

  Rex, Steel, Link, Storm, Maverick, and I had all been raised on the compound at one point or another. We’d grown to be brothers, and it was only a twist of fate that saw us all sitting on the Sinners’ council, but that twist meant that every man in the MC, be they on the council or just a regular brother, had my back where this crusade of mine was concerned.

  “You’re the opposite of okay, man,” Rex argued with a grumble as he eyed the deep amber of his beverage of choice—JD. Neat. No rocks. He could put away a bottle of that without feeling the pain the next day. “But you’re nowhere close to rabid, so I’m cool with that.”

  Unable to stop my snicker, I slammed back some tequila and retorted, “You going to put me down if I go wild?”

  “Depends on your definition of wild.” He arched a brow as he leaned forward, shoving his elbows on the peanut-strewn bar. As his gaze drifted over Cruz and Sin, I saw him take note of the stock in the bar, and had to shake my head at the sight.

  The bastard seriously never stopped working.

  Because concern wasn’t a one-way street, I questioned, “You going to fuck off and get fucked? I don’t know about you, but Cammie wants to suck my cock, don’t you, darlin’?” I hollered the last part so my bitch of choice knew to get her fine ass over here. With a flick of her long blonde hair, she leaped up off the sofa where she’d been chilling with a couple of the other whores, her tits jiggling as she did so.

  Eying her, Rex snorted. “Since when did you mind having an audience?”

  As the sweetbutt sauntered over to me, swinging her hips for all she was worth, I muttered, “Everyone knows Cammie is shy and timid.” Rex and I stared at one another before bursting out laughing, because describing Cammie as shy and timid was like saying a fourteen-year-old virgin boy didn’t have wet dreams… but for all her sins, she was, for all intents and purposes, mine. I hadn’t claimed her, never would, but every brother in the MC knew I didn’t share my spoils. It was just how I worked, and because no one wanted to get on my bad side, they steered clear of the sweetbutt.

  I was well aware Cammie thought that gave her Old Lady privileges, and used it to one-up the rest of the whores, but I didn’t really give a fuck. Not enough to change shit. She wasn’t my woman, never would be, and if it made her feel better for her to think she was more than just a trio of holes, then I wasn’t enough of a dick to make her feel shitty about herself.

  See, that was me. Being a good person.

  Wasn’t I just a fucking angel?

  Even though she was off limits, even from him, it didn’t stop Rex from appreciating the view, and it was definitely a good one. She had the face of a saint and the body of a sinner—exactly how I liked my bitches, and Rex, entertained by the show she put on, grinned at me before he slapped me on the back and strode over to some other brother he needed to pester—dude was worse than a mother hen—and I let Cammie come to me. She milked the moment, but with a pussy as tight as hers and tits that bounced with every thrust? I’d let her get away with it.

  Leaning back against the top of the bar, I didn’t care that it was wet from spilled beer and tequila, didn’t give a shit that there were peanut shells on there either. Honestly, I was already way past my own personal limit of alcohol.

  I never drank.

  Only on nights like tonight.

  Nights where I celebrated.

  It was why they called me Nyx. I was a creature of the night, of the dark, and these moments, in the aftermath, were when I could let myself loose. When the demon inside me had been sated, I could take a few hours to enjoy the peace.

  I knew for a fact Cammie had been avoiding me all evening. Knew it because my rep preceded me. It was why she’d stayed over with the others before I called her over, why now, she was nuzzling into me, cuddling me… she was trying to temper me.

  Yeah, because that worked. When affection came from a bitch I didn’t really give a fuck about, from a woman who saw me as her bread and butter, it didn’t really mean anything, did it?

  The night after a kill, the night after I made an evil cunt beg at my feet, I was pretty much a beast, which was why Rex had looked at me all concerned.

  He knew what I was like.

  He’d been checking on the sweetbutt’s behalf, making sure I wasn’t a danger to anyone. He’d meant it when he said he’d been checking that I wasn’t rabid.

  I didn’t know if he’d ever be able to tell if I had turned. He knew me well, probably more than most, but that didn’t mean he knew everything. A part of me was rabid, I just hid it deep. That was what happened to a man’s soul after what had happened to me and my sister happened, and after so many kills. Something like that changed you, made you see the darkness in people that others never noticed. Made it harder to trust and more difficult to have faith.

  With Cammie trying to hug me, the desire to push her away reached a peak as my throat grew thick with thoughts of Carly, thoughts about how fucked up I was and how much I’d enjoyed making Haune suffer, and for a second, I didn’t just mourn my sister, I mourned the loss of me. The promise that had been in me, in my future, all gone because of one person.

  My personal demon began to stir once more, and because I couldn’t deal with it, not so soon after a kill, I reached back to grab the bottle from Sin’s hand, needing to drown out the ever present rage with the numbness only alcohol could diminish. Not even coke or dope took it away, and I’d tried, several times, but only tequila did it. Only that gave me any rest when the monster was on edge.

  Sin grumbled at losing his bottle, but he knew to back the fuck off. Not just because I was the club’s Enforcer, but because of why we were celebrating.

  Our run had just netted us a cool three million bucks, but what we were truly partying over was Haune’s death.

  Sin flipped me the bird before he cracked the lid on a new bottle, and as I poured some of the burning liquid into my mouth, Cammie shimmied against me. She’d been all confidence as she’d strutted over to me, but in her eyes, I saw her caution. She knew she was playing with fire tonight, but although she was feeling wary, she wouldn’t say shit. She’d do whatever the fuck I wanted, whenever. Another reason I liked her.

  I looked deep into her eyes, then demanded, “Open your mouth.”

  She obeyed. Instantly. Everyone knew to obey me. From the whores to the brothers, even most of the council did as I asked because they knew, where business was concerned, my brain was screwed on right—most of the time anyway. I was good at hiding the real me, to the point where I’d reached a position of power when I should probably be locked up in some asylum or something.

  With her mouth wide open, I poured more tequila into mine then leaned over and trickled the alcohol between her lips. They were painted a ruby red, and as liquid splashed onto them, they gleamed. In a weird way, it reminded me of Carly’s favorite Disney movie—Snow White. The poison apple looked less shiny than Cammie’s lips though, lips that were about to be around my dick.

  As she swallowed my offering, I challenged, “You been avoiding me, Cam?”

  Her eyes flared wide, and she instantl
y shook her head, fear slithering into her bright green gaze, and I reached up, enjoying her fear and knowing I was sick because of it.

  I wasn’t a monster, but I was a predator, and Cammie knew she was my prey. I wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t dream of it, but she didn’t have to know that, did she?

  Aside from Maverick, who’d served overseas, I had the most kills, and I wore the proof of that on my spine. That gave me an edge that all the sweetbutts knew to be wary of.

  Reaching up, I tapped her chin. “You lying to me, Cammie?”

  A hand slammed onto my shoulder. “Don’t fuck with her, Nyx.”

  I cast Steel a look, but smirked when he rolled his eyes at me. Apparently, he wasn’t up for dealing with my shit tonight. “Cammie likes it, don’t you, babe?”

  “Y-Yes, N-Nyx,” she stuttered, making me scowl.

  “Well, that sounded convincing,” Steel commented dryly.

  Huffing out a breath, I ordered, “Get on your knees, get your tits out, and suck my dick.”

  “Thought you might want to take this somewhere private?”

  The instant the words slipped from her mouth, she knew she’d made a mistake. She kept pulling this shit. Trying to take things to another level, which was never going to fucking happen. She was a clubwhore. Nothing more, nothing less. Without another word, without my even having to cock a brow, she slid to her knees and unfastened the bralette she wore. As her tits spilled free, I turned my attention to Steel who I knew was eying up Cammie. She wasn’t mine, but every brother knew to back the fuck off her. I didn’t share. And I expected no one to watch if I pulled a move like this out in public.