Twisted Pieces
Welcome to world of BACK DOWN DEVIL MOTORCYCLE CLUB
~
A romance novel by London Casey
London Casey is the pen name for bestselling romance author Karolyn James
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TWISTED PIECES
A Back Down Devil MC Novel
Jace Smitrein is sitting in prison for weeks, literally fighting
for his life everyday, facing murder charges… and there's no sign of
Back Down Devil.
When the job of her dreams falls into her lap, life is perfect for
Jordyn Myersen. That is until her boss - Mr. Strokner - has plans
for Jordyn and his own lap, with the promise of a long, happy career.
As soon as Jace gets a taste of freedom, it becomes clear that his
list of allies isn't as long as it used to be. When Jordyn shows up at
the clubhouse on business, Jace is forced to realize that not only is
his life with the club limited, but his heart is more vulnerable than
he knew.
In this steamy MC novel, Back Down Devil must face their biggest
threat and Jace is about to lose everything. The only question is...
who and what can survive?
one.
Being stripped of a motorcycle, weapons, and a leather cut was cruel and unjust punishment for Jace. It was worse than having to wear an orange jumpsuit and be paraded around in handcuffs.
Jace had been booked at Frelen's local precinct, charged with murder. It didn't make any sense. Chief Jerry was supposed to have their back, but all he would say to Jace was ‘time’s up.’
A day later, the Back Down Devil crew came to visit, but it was barely that. Jace expected to be let out, as what would normally happen, but instead, he was cuffed, his feet shackled, and he was handed over - by Chief Jerry - to two thick men who put him in the back of a van and hauled his ass straight to prison. It took another day to meet with the lawyer to figure out what the hell was going on. That felt like the longest day of Jace’s life as he sat in the cell, alone. The top bunk in the cell had been empty and remained that way for another couple days until a man was brought in to bunk with him. The man had tattoos running up his neck, across his forehead, and his bald head covered. Jace had nodded to the man and the man looked back and had nodded to the guard. The door was shut and the man pulled a shank out of pants and made a move at Jace.
That’s when life got really fucking real.
Jace had managed to slip to the side and pummel the asshole so hard that he fractured the guy’s ribs to the point where he couldn’t breathe. The guard then came in and with a swift swing of a club, Jace was out cold on the concrete floor. `
He always assumed that when he was going to die, he’d have an idea. Some kind of notion to have the opportunity to have one last thought. That one last thought had long since become some kind of reason to live. Because Jace had a ton of memories. He could go back in time to when he was a kid and had a decent house, a nice family, a little brother, and a yard. The memory had the scent of fresh cut grass because that was the last time he remembered when his parents were alive. His mother holding a glass of lemonade for his father, like some kind of goddamn postcard or poster of the American fucking dream.
Other memories were closer in time and had a little more fun. A wild threesome on stage after a strip club shutdown for the night. The first time he killed a man and had the chance to look into his eyes and watch him die. Or all the mornings waking up to some new reliever in bed. Sometimes brunette. Sometimes blonde. Sometimes a fiery redhead. Sometimes with tight bodies and small tits. Sometimes with tits that were fun to enjoy for hours.
No matter what, the chance of having that one last memory had quite a bit of options.
Lucky for Jace, he didn’t die that day in prison…
And he wasn’t dead yet. Although, for the most part, he felt dead. The first attack was pretty serious. There had been a payoff with two guards for a hit on Jace. Some old fires being kicked up outside prison that were hoping to get settled inside. No matter the security of a facility, the MC life never ended. Jace slept lightly, and most nights, he slept with his hands tight in fists, ready to attack when needed.
Jace wasn’t the only in prison that was from the Back Down Devil crew. There were a few guys serving life sentences. Others were doing time for attempted murder, grand theft auto, and a laundry list of petty bullshit, some of which they were serving on behalf of other members they respected. Bottom line, it was a rarity to have a table member from Back Down Devil MC in prison. That made Jace the talk of the prison. That made the target on his back even bigger. If someone took down a table member, it was like a fucking trophy. It was the greatest high these guys could ever have in prison. Knowing that had that last strike and that ultimate showing to their clubs.
It meant Jace didn’t trust a fucking person. Not even the guys that were in Back Down Devil MC. Because behind bars, locked in the facility, there was no leather cuts and loyalty felt scarce.
The second time Jace was attacked, he wasn’t so lucky to catch it before it happened. They were all in a line on the way to the cafeteria when Jace felt something in his arm. He saw the blood before he saw the knife. Jace punched the guy in the face and all hell broke loose. The big fight ended with Jace being strapped to a hospital bed. He needed stitches in his arm and his head. He slept in that hospital bed for two days before being put back into his cell.
Meeting with the lawyer didn’t help much. They were still waiting on a bail hearing to find out how much the club needed to get Jace out. The charge of murder was pretty serious. Apparently someone had gone digging around and found a body. There were also pictures of Jace dragging said body and putting it into a grave. All of which was tied to the bullshit that had happened with Shay and his brother, Caius.
Worse yet, Jace had tried to casually let the lawyer know to keep telling Miller and Gaige about what he had seen the day he got arrested. About the boat he saw with the Coast Road MC. There was no way Back Down Devil was going to allow drugs to be dealt anywhere near Frelen.
It had been weeks since Jace was put behind bars. Everything about the situation was dirty. No hearing. No trial. No damn evidence shown. Someone was lacing pockets or calling in favors to keep Jace in prison. And it was just two weeks ago when Jace earned enough respect from the other guards to start to have a taste of freedom. It was simple, really. The same guard that had set Jace up twice tried to do it a third time, and Jace was done taking bullshit. So when the opportunity presented itself, Jace grabbed the guard and slammed his face off the bars of his cell until the guard fell to the ground. When the other guards saw what Jace had done, they beat the hell out of him. But after that, things calmed down a bit for Jace. There were more eyes on him, but he had earned more respect.
It led to more free time and a chance to stretch his legs a little more.
He sat outside with two other inmates. One guy was an old member of Back Down Devil MC and the other just a common criminal. A guy who had caught his ex-wife cheating, so he barricaded the other guy’s house and burned it down, killing them both.
“I felt bad though,” the guy - Nicky - said to Jace once.
“About killing them?”
“No. Fuck them. I didn’t know the asshole had a dog. German Shepard, my favorite kind. The damn dog couldn’t get out. Poor thing. That
still bothers me.”
Today, Jace, Nicky, and Paul sat outside on a shitty picnic table, dealing cards. They were playing for smokes. The rest of the yard was quiet. The midday sun was high in the air. It was hot out, but it felt good to be warmed by the sun.
Paul had been cleaning up nice for about an hour.
Nicky took the cards and started to shuffle them. “Damn shame you’re stuck in here,” he said to Jace. “Murder?”
“Alleged.”
Nicky laughed a croaky smoking-for-fifty-years kind of laugh and then went into a coughing fit. He managed to keep a lit cigarette in his mouth as he did so. “Alleged. You should be a lawyer.”
“I’m not that corrupt, man,” Jace said. “Deal a hand.”
“Five card straight. Nothing wild. Last hand.”
Nicky dealt the cards. Paul took a look at his hand and quickly folded. Jace had shit other than an ace of hearts. It was worth throwing in a smoke to call the bet. Nicky raised him another and Jace complied.
Jace showed his shit hand and Nicky ended up winning with a pair of two’s.
“Fuck,” Jace said.
“No problem,” Paul said. “Always tomorrow. That’s at least one thing we got right now.”
“Not always,” Jace said.
Nicky laughed again. “Spoken true.”
Nicky collected the cards and then threw them in Paul’s face. He lunged at Paul and took the man to the ground. Jace fell back off the picnic table to his ass and watched as Nicky took out a knife - a real fucking knife - and slammed it into Paul’s gut. He twisted it and laughed. He pulled the knife out and did it again… and again… and again… until Paul was lifeless.
Jace looked around, expecting guards to come running into the yard, but there were no guards.
Nicky stood with the bloody knife in his bloody hand. He still had the same cigarette in his mouth. He took a deep drag without using his hand and then exhaled a cloud of smoke all around him.
“Sorry about that,” Nicky said. “Favor for a friend.”
“He was part of my club, man,” Jace said.
Nicky smiled and lifted the knife. “I don’t give a fuck who is part of who. It’s all the same in here, Jace.” He crouched down and took a drag and blew smoke in Jace’s face. “You want out of here? I know how.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I know who you are. I know who Paul was. He’s a piece of shit. He tried selling Back Down Devil out a month ago. Tried teaming up with two guys from Eight Under.”
“How do you…”
Nicky laughed. “No loyalty in here, right? I was never patched in to a club, Jace. But I saw an opportunity and took it.”
“Killing someone from Back Down Devil?” Jace asked.
“Yeah. Pretty cool, right?”
Jace looked at Paul. Nicky put a hand out and pulled Jace to his feet. The doors then opened and out came half a dozen guards. They were screaming, weapons drawn.
Before Jace knew what the hell was happening, Nicky stood on the picnic table and started taunting the guards with the knife in his hand. Two guards called the order and they filled Nicky with bullets. The same two guards then grabbed Jace and hauled him away.
One whispered, “You’re doing solitary confinement until your lawyer gets here. Then you’re on your way out.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
The guard smiled. “Tell Miller I was asking about him. And tell him what you saw here today.”
Jace had no goddamn clue why all that had just happened. He just witnessed a man get stabbed to death. A man who belonged to the club. Then again, if Paul turned out to be the rat Nicky claimed, then he deserved the knife. But, Nicky? Making the kill and then taking all those bullets? For what? To go to his grave to say he did something for the club?
It was a powerful reminder of what Back Down Devil stood for and of the respect the MC both commanded and earned. It was really something special. And deadly.
Jace was led back into the prison. There were a collection of guards, all shouting orders at one another. They were desperate to assist in the double death out in the yard. Many of them were already arguing with each other, wanting to know how Nicky ended up with the knife he had.
“This is going to shake some things up for a little while,” the guard walking Jace said in almost a whisper. “Just what we need. Distraction and diversion.”
Jace looked at the guard. The guy looked so straight edge. Tough. Clean. Honest. A man who cared about the badge he wore and the duties he was told to uphold.
The walk to the solitary confiment area was a long one. The rooms were narrow and the doors basically matched the walls. It wasn’t a good place to be. There were only a few lights dangling from the ceiling and it stunk of cold stone, must, and shit. That was one smell that never went away in there. Shit.
The guard opened the door and spun Jace around. He took the cuffs off and then slipped his hand into Jace’s. It took Jace a few seconds to realize the guard was shaking his hand.
“For all the MC has done,” the guard said.
He took his hand away. Jace snapped into reality and shook his head. “Wait a minute, man. Who the fuck are you?”
“Old friend.”
“That means dick to me.”
“Miller knows.”
“Knows what?”
The guard smiled. “Tell you what. I’ve got some food in my pocket. I was going to toss it to you before I left to make sure you had a little food before they come get you.”
“Why the fuck am I here?”
“Because up there,” the guard pointed. “With those assholes? You’ll be done, Jace. A war has started in here. I’m on top of it though.”
“And, again, who are you?”
“Let me finish my point,” the guard said. “I’ll give you a choice. You can have the food in my pocket or the answer to your question.”
“So now you’re tough? Playing hardball?”
“Working on it. I have to look the part, you know?”
Jace shook his head. “I’d rather know who you are.”
“Okay. When I was younger, I witnessed a guy shoot my older brother between the eyes. One bullet. Done. If I close my eyes I can still see it. The shot. His brains. The blood.”
“I get it,” Jace said.
“I was devastated, Jace. Seeing that kind of shit. But then Miller came around, to take care of things.”
“Miller?”
“It was someone he was after. I was just in the way, I guess. My brother had a drug and gang situation going on. I was following in his path. I can still remember the guy that shot my brother. This big freaking dude. Huge muscles, definitely steroids. But still, man, he was scary.”
Jace nodded. It made a little more sense now. Miller probably going after someone in the Coast Road MC.
“Miller did me a solid. He started by killing the guy that killed my brother. But that wasn’t the true solid of it.”
“Then what was?”
“He showed me the body.”
“Of the guy that killed your brother?”
The guard laughed. “No. I didn’t need to see that. Miller showed me my brother.”
“Your dead…”
The guard nodded. “Dug his ass up and took me to see it. I’ll never forget it. Miller grabbed me by the shoulder and squeezed so tight, I can still feel the pain. He said to me, ‘You have a fucking choice, kid. You can walk on this ground or be buried in it. Make the right fucking choice.’” The guard let out a breath. “He then told me to say goodbye and I did. Miller’s advice took me here.”
“A crooked guard in a crooked prison?” Jace asked.
“Just riding the best of both worlds, man. I get a steady paycheck, retirement, and health insurance. On the side, I get to pay my respect to Miller and what he did for me.”
“Christ,” Jace said. “What a fucking day.”
“It’ll get better. You’ll be out soon.”
Jace backed into the cell and started to look around. It was white. No windows. A small bed. It was a smaller version of hell. No sense of time other than the fucked up sense of time in your mind.
“Jace?” the guard called out.
Jace looked. The guard pulled a baggie of food out of his pocket. He then took out a bottle of water. He dropped both on the floor and shut the door. It turned out to just be beef jerky, but, damn, it was food. More so, it gave Jace a chance to sit alone and eat and think. Something he hadn’t done in a long time.
Maybe solitary confinement wasn’t all that bad. It kept the bad shit out. It kept the secrets out. It kept the world away.
two.
When the door opened again the first thing Jace asked was, “How long has it been?”. He wasn’t going insane, not by a long shot, but he had tried to keep a mental clock going. He had it pegged down to around four hours. The guard told him it had been about five hours.
Pretty close.
Jace offered his hands and the guard swatted them away. It was a different guard than the one from before. Jace knew he’d never see that guy again. His story was a little too fucked up to deal with right now anyway.
Jace walked back through the shit smelling hall to the main population of the prison. Jace was taken to a room where he was handed his clothes. His jeans. His chains. His rings. His fucking leather cut. The bag was put on the table and then he was left alone. When Jace opened the bag and took out the leather cut, he put it face down on the table and looked at the name and logo on the back.
Back Down Devil
The most important thing in his life. He put a hand to the leather and shut his eyes. He saw the yard again. He could hear Paul laughing. That dry, frog-like laugh. All those cheap cigarettes would have eaten his lungs away eventually. But ironically it wasn't the cigarettes that killed Paul. It was two guards, each with a gun.
He saw Paul stabbing Nicky. He could hear the slosh sound of the wet blade sliding in and out of Nicky’s body.