Frozen Rain: Royal Bastards MC Anchorage Chapter Read online

  Frozen Rain

  Royal Bastards MC Anchorage Chapter

  CM Genovese

  Copyright © 2020 by CM Genovese

  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

  Contents

  Author’s Note and Dedication

  Royal Bastards Code

  Song List

  Newsletter Signup

  1. Rain

  2. Cassie

  3. Rain

  4. Cassie

  5. Cassie

  6. Rain

  7. Cassie

  8. Rain

  9. Cassie

  10. Rain

  11. Cassie

  12. Rain

  13. Rain

  14. Cassie

  15. Rain

  16. Cassie

  17. Rain

  18. Rain

  19. Cassie

  20. Rain

  21. Cassie

  22. Rain

  23. Cassie

  24. Rain

  25. Rain

  26. Cassie

  27. Rain

  Royal Bastards MC Series

  About the Author

  Author Links

  Other Works by CM Genovese

  Works by Chris Genovese

  Author’s Note and Dedication

  This book is special. All the books are, but this one is really cool because it gave me the opportunity to work with so many fellow MC authors. In Frozen Rain, if you’ve followed the other Royal Bastards books, you’ll notice quite a few connections with the other authors’ chapters.

  This Royal Bastards world we’ve created is such a badass one with so many subgenres included.

  This project was such an awesome idea, and it wouldn’t have happened without the efforts of Crimson Syn and Nikki Landis. It isn’t easy to bring so many authors together under one roof. We can be stubborn as hell. I think you have to be in order to survive in a motorcycle club romance world. We write some hardcore stories with alpha males and feisty women. You have to be of a certain mindset to pull that off. I’m just saying, we can be challenging hahaha.

  We’ve had quite a few people drop out of the project and so many amazing ones jump right in to fill the gaps in the schedule. Those are some true warriors right there, so thank you to those who filled in and helped us accomplish our goal of back to back books coming out in rapid succession. We’re getting it done!

  I definitely need to mention our cover artist. My cover, and the covers of all the other authors in the project, wouldn’t look as kickass as it does without the amazing artistic abilities of Jay Aheer at Simply Defined Art. I gave her total freedom and only asked that it look tough, raw, and fucking awesome. Jay produced an amazing cover for me. Thank you, Jay!

  Every author involved in this project has been approachable, so knowledgeable, and filled to the brim with creativity and a willingness to share ideas. At the end of this book, I’ll provide a list of each author’s books in the Royal Bastards MC project, but I also want to say a big thank you to all of them right here, right now. Thank you Crimson Syn, Nikki Landis, Erin Trejo, Chelle C Craze and Eli Abbott, K. Webster, Esther E. Schmidt, Elizabeth Knox, Glenna Maynard, Madison Faye, J. Lynn Lombard, B.B. Blaque, Addison Jane, Izzy Sweet & Sean Moriarty, KL Ramsey, M. Merin, Sapphire Knight, Bink Cummings, Winter Travers, Linny Lawless, Jax Hart, Elle Boon, Kristine Allen, Ker Dukey, KE Osborn, and Shannon Youngblood. Thank you for being in this crew with me. You all fucking rock!

  As always, I have to say a big thank you to the ladies who helped me prepare this book. They waded through my words, snatched up the inconsistencies, tackled the typos, and slapped me around a little bit with commas. In other words, they got me into shape. The speed at which they did it is nothing short of phenomenal. They weren’t given nearly as much time as they would have liked, but they didn’t drop me on my ass. They went straight to work and helped me put out what I think is one of my best books yet. Thank you to Stephanie, Mary, Kaye, Autumn, and Fran for helping me get this done.

  I can’t forget, the person who has become a sister to me in this author world and in real life too. Author Faith Gibson selflessly reads through my books and gives me so much valuable advice. She helps me grow with each book. I told her earlier today that I can actually hear her voice when I accidentally tell instead of show. “Chris, baby, you need to fix that.” Love you, Faith.

  As always, thank you to my family for giving up so much time with me to allow me to follow my dreams and fulfill this need to entertain. You’re the reason I want this to succeed so badly.

  Lastly, I want to say a big thank you to everyone who preordered Frozen Rain and to all of you picking it up after the fact, whether buying it or reading it on KU. I remember when I made no sales at all. So, every single one means a great deal to me. Thank you for making my dream a reality. Now, let’s get into some Royal Bastards MC mayhem. I hope you love Frozen Rain.

  Royal Bastards Code

  PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else, and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.

  RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.

  HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.

  OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Ol’Lady. PERIOD.

  CHURCH is MANDATORY.

  LOYALTY: Takes precedence over all, including well-being.

  HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.

  TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.

  TRUST: Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.

  NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.

  Song List

  ‘Battleship Chains’ by Georgia Satellites

  ‘Radar Love’ by Golden Earring

  ‘My Kinda Lover’ by Billy Squier

  ‘I Ain’t Goin’ Out Like That’ by Cypress Hill

  ‘Crazy Bitch’ by Buckcherry

  ‘Lunatic Fringe’ by Red Rider

  ‘Turn the Page’ by Bob Seger

  ‘Bad Medicine’ by Bon Jovi

  ‘Wonderful Tonight’ by Eric Clapton

  ‘Land of 1000 Dances’ by Wilson Pickett

  ‘Top O’ the Morning to Ya’ by House of Pain

  ‘Abracadabra’ by The Steve Miller Band

  ‘King of Mercy’ by Nine Shrines

  ‘1000x’ by Jarryd James ft. Broods

  To go to the Frozen Rain playlist on Spotify, click HERE.

  Newsletter Signup

  Keep up with all things CM Genovese/Chris Genovese by clicking HERE to signup for his newsletter. This will make sure you never miss a new release, you hear all important news, and you receive discounts and freebies.

  Speaking of freebies, you can grab a free copy of the Razorblade Tumbleweeds MC prequel, Anger’s Fade, by clicking HERE.

  Also, make sure you check out http://www.chrisgenovese.com

  1

  Rain

  If someone were to ask me to narrow my life down to a few defining moments, only three would be of any real significance. One was the day I became a full-patch member of the Royal Bastards MC – Anchorage, Alaska Chapter. The second was the last time I went to prison; a time in which I’m about
to give you a quick rundown. The third? A woman stepped in and brought down my barriers in a way I thought nobody could. This is as much her story as it is mine. But first… let me tell you about that prison thing.

  Never in my life had I hated the color orange like I did the second Officer Jonesy handed me that prison bundle. He was respectful, and that said as much about him as it did about me. I was somebody, and he knew that. I was second-generation Royal Bastard, and if he had family in the Land of the Midnight Sun, he knew it was best not to tempt fate by fucking with my club’s Sergeant at Arms.

  Stripping my shirt off and kicking my jeans to the side, I stepped barefoot onto the hard concrete ground and stood with my arms out at my side while a photographer – poor guy must have been pissed his dream of snapping photos out in the wild for National Geographic had gotten derailed to the point he’d ended up photographing incarcerated dudes’ tattoos – made sure every inch of my body was saved for the database. That had to be the worst damn job in the world.

  “They call you Jonesy,” I said to the cop.

  The photographer, I had no fucking clue what his name was.

  “They do,” the cop admitted.

  “They call me Rain,” I informed him.

  “I know.”

  That was good. He needed to know. He needed to commit it to memory.

  “Lift your testicles, Rain,” he demanded.

  I went through the motions. That was what one did when getting locked up. We played by the rules as long as the rules didn’t impede on our rights. I’d lift my nut sack for him if that’s what he wanted. As I cupped my balls and stretched them upward, I realized the photographer had it good. This was now the worst job in the world.

  The guy who tells you to lift your balls is not having a good life.

  Dinner table gossip must’ve been fucking wild at his house.

  “So, Dad, what did you do today?”

  “Oh, you know. Same ol’ same ol.”

  “You made them lift their balls again, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, Son, I did. Daddy made fellas lift their nuts.”

  “Turn around,” Jonesy ordered. “Bend over—”

  “I know the drill,” I said as I leaned forward, reached back, and spread my asshole open for him.

  I wasn’t carrying anything up my ass.

  Fuck that shit.

  When he was done with me, I pulled that orange creamsicle-colored top down over my shoulders while the prison cop watched my every move. It was his job. He was the modern-day ferry man, but instead of transporting me to the land of the dead, he was leading me through the door that would see me mixed in with all the other cold-blooded killers, lowlife thieves, and drug-hauling dipshits.

  I’d been here before. I wished I could say I wasn’t one of their kind, but the truth was, I was as gnarly as the rest of them. I was a fucking knucklehead, but I was the best kind. I got the job done, and that’s why I was standing there waiting to be tossed in with the other riffraff.

  Finally, I was processed and ready to be led to my new bay at Alaska’s supermax prison.

  “Things have changed since your last stint inside,” Jonesy said as he grabbed hold of one of my shoulders.

  I glanced back, not appreciating the touchy-feely gesture. He saw the look in my eyes and let go.

  “It’s all the same,” I replied. “It’s always the same.”

  “There’s a Russian inside they call Palach.”

  I waited for an explanation, because I didn’t fucking speak Russian.

  “The Executioner,” he added.

  “Right,” I said.

  “Watch yourself in there,” he warned me. Then he leaned in close and whispered, “I promised BP I’d look after you. He’s my wife’s godfather.”

  I hadn’t heard this story. My chapter president, BP – Bi-Polar Bear – wasn’t one to brag or tell too many personal stories. Of course, he’d promised me when I got arrested that I’d be fine inside. But our brotherhood always was. Knowing Jonesy was partially on the inside was good news. It meant I wouldn’t be hassled much.

  “It’s an open pod for the most part,” Jonesy continued. “Just keep your eyes and ears open for Palach.”

  He led me to the door. Through the plexiglass window, I could see the crowd forming on the other side. This was how they did it. They’d chant shit like:

  “Hey pretty boy.”

  “That ass is mine.”

  “Fresh fish.”

  Until they recognized me. Then they’d apologize and back off. The window was too grimy for them to see me clearly enough to be forewarned. It wasn’t my personal reputation that scared people off, it was that of my club. My upper body was slathered with tattoos, most of which would be hidden by the ugly-ass tangerine shirt I wore, but I’d make sure to lift the right sleeve high enough to give them a glimpse of the skull with crown ink. Then they’d fuck off.

  “Rain,” Jonesy said as he held a hand up to stop the guard controlling entry and exit from buzzing us in. “Your best bet is to go in there peacefully. You don’t need to prove anything this time around.”

  I didn’t reply. I’d learned long ago that words should only be used when facial expressions and actions couldn’t do the trick.

  “Yes, I heard about last time,” Jonesy went on.

  I nodded. Not in agreement, but to get him to open the door. He wasn’t worried about me. He was only concerned about his fucking job and his livelihood if anything happened to me. Jonesy smiled, pleased with his ability to talk sense into this animal. He gestured for the door to be opened. It buzzed, and I entered, with Jonesy saying from behind, “Good luck.”

  He hadn’t been kidding. The last time I was here, I was in a different pod, but it was a lot more controlled. It was a lot more peaceful. This time, it was like stepping into a pit of vipers. All the hissing and snapping to go along with it.

  “Yo, that ass is lookin’ fine,” one of the inmates said.

  I pointed at my left eye. It was where I got the name Rain. I had exactly one raindrop tattooed there. It was old ink. Something from long before I’d joined the Royal Bastards. Back when I was rebelling against my father and didn’t want to join his MC right away. I’d done a four-year enlistment in the U.S. Marine Corps before getting out and stumbling a bit on my path. My nasty temper and my tough guy attitude led to me joining a street gang made up of Alaskan wannabe gangsters who’d moved up north with their military parents to flee whatever fucked-up life they’d had back home. With the chance to start fresh, they joined together to create an even more fucked-up life.

  The raindrop was a personal challenge. I’d decided it would symbolize ten kills. My father had killed nine men in his life. He was proud of it. I was prouder. I’d add a teardrop when I reached twenty. I wasn’t far off from getting that new ink.

  To be clear, every one of those sixteen fucks deserved it. I wasn’t a fucking serial killer. Hell, the first five were over in the Middle East. The U.S. military was my first gang. Six of them were in the same place at the same time, in an Anchorage alleyway, when they tried to ambush me. My life had always been one of war. It took me awhile to learn I needed to strike first and strike hard, but the lesson was hammered home and I’d put it to use today.

  “Punk ass muthafucka!” one of the other inmates yelled at me.

  I raised my sleeve and he nodded then blew out a breath as if to say, “Ohhh kay. Got it.”

  It was a crowd of orange with shaking fists and sneers. None a threat, until I heard the voice come from behind in a thick Russian accent, “Tell your president, Palach says hello.”

  Instinctively, I slid left, hoping like hell he was right-handed. He was. I spun and caught him with a backfist to the chin before he was able to hit me with the shank. He crumpled to the ground at my feet and everyone backed up, knowing the guards were about to blow through the door and put us all on our faces.

  I hadn’t killed anyone this time. I’d only knocked this asshole out. He would die later
for trying to kill me, but for right now, he’d live. Getting my respect was easier than usual. Too easy. I should have realized it then. The guy on the ground was too skinny, too frail to be the Russian Jonesy had warned me about. This weak motherfucker wouldn’t be able to command anybody. He was a flunky. A lowlife soldier. I should have seen it coming.

  The blade beneath my chin came quickly. It was cold and then hot. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought something like that would. I’d gotten stabbed plenty of times in the past. A cut under the armpit hurt most in my experience, but this was different. With the swiping of that blade, I felt the blood gush down my chest and pool onto the floor, like someone had turned on my life’s faucet and left me bleeding out. I couldn’t fight because I couldn’t breathe.

  My fingers clutched at my throat, acting as makeshift staples keeping the wound shut, but the blood was too slippery, and I couldn’t hold on.

  Everything was in slow motion.

  Angry faces yelled things I couldn’t hear. All of their voices blended together. Spit flew from their lips. Fists shook in the air. Not a damn one of them did a single thing to help.

  The blade plunged into my side then, between my ribs, and I hit my knees.

  Get up you fucking pussy.

  I wouldn’t be getting up. Not this time.

  Somewhere in the distance, the guards burst through the door and footsteps pounded against the floor. All went silent. I tried to lift my head, but my strength was gone.