The Vice President Read online

  THE VICE PRESIDENT

  OF REBEL RAGE MC

  By Addy Archer

  Copyright ©2019 Addy Archer All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion of it may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without written permission of Addy Archer. Except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, businesses, characters, events, places, are used fictitiously or are the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is purely coincidental.

  Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence, explicit language and biker romance offends you. This is not meant to be an exact impression of life in a motorcycle club. This is purely a work of fiction meant to entertain.

  1st edition published: October 14, 2019

  Editing by: Virginia, Hot Tree Editing

  Formatting: Addy Archer

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  BLURB

  The Vice President of Rebel Rage MC

  When Hunt’s daughter goes missing, he’ll do whatever it takes to find her. Unexpectedly, the vice president of Rebel Rage MC stumbles across the right woman along the way.

  After a hot encounter with a sexy, arrogant biker, Peyton never expected to see him again, but fate has other plans. When she is unwittingly pulled into a dangerous situation far beyond her control, Hunt swoops back into her life, vowing to protect her.

  Will Hunt be able to save both his daughter and the woman he loves, or will this threat be too much for the MC to handle?

  Escape into the world of Rebel Rage MC, where laws don’t apply, loyalty is everything, and love is worth fighting for. The President is book one of the Rebel Rage MC trilogy, which will continue in The Vice President and conclude in The Prospect.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  C H A P T E R O N E

  C H A P T E R T W O

  C H A P T E R T H R E E

  C H A P T E R F O U R

  C H A P T E R F I V E

  C H A P T E R S I X

  C H A P T E R S E V E N

  C H A P T E R E I G H T

  C H A P T E R N I N E

  C H A P T E R T E N

  C H A P T E R E L E V E N

  C H A P T E R T W E L V E

  C H A P T E R T H I R T E E N

  C H A P T E R O N E

  ~ H U N T ~

  My heart beats out of control as fear like I’ve never experienced rushes through me. And let me tell you something—I never let fear control me. It’s a foreign feeling, and I have to shove it down because right now my daughter needs me. She’s the one good thing in my life, and now she’s missing. I know it’s my own damn fault.

  As usual, I was late with picking her up. I rushed over to the school, only to find the classroom empty. They said every kid was picked up, including Raven, my six-year-old daughter. My first call was to my pres, letting him know Raven is missing. I need all the help I can get to find her. The only one who comes to mind who could have picked her up is the one who gave birth to her.

  Though, I don’t think she’d walk back into my life, or Raven’s for that matter. She won’t come near us. She doesn’t give two shits about the life she put on this earth. I keep tabs on the cunt, and she’s not even in the country but living in Italy with a sugar daddy who supports her partying ways. But like I said, Raven is missing and my mind is reeling. Where the fuck could she be?

  I storm into the clubhouse. Alaric—my pres—and all the other brothers are waiting for me. Alaric holds out his phone for me, and I don’t understand why until my eyes hit the words of a text message, and suddenly it all makes sense.

  UNKNOWN:

  A cunt for a cunt. Your old lady or a substitute. We’ll take one that belongs to you.

  “Fuck,” I roar at the top of my lungs. “Are you seriously telling me there’s a fucking chance they kidnapped my little girl?”

  “Where else could she be? Look at the fucking text and the timing of her going missing,” Alaric fires in return.

  Angie reaches out and grabs my forearm. “What places did you check? Could she have gone home by herself? Could someone else have picked her up? The babysitter? Maybe the babysitter didn’t quit, or perhaps the agency sent a new one and forgot to tell you?”

  I shake my head at her suggestions. I’ve thought of these possibilities, but I have no fucking answers. Before I can formulate words, Angie continues.

  “Alaric received a phone call from Trigger Pull MC before you called. They demanded to hand me over. Alaric told them off and ended the call, only to receive that text a few minutes later. Maybe it’s not Trigger Pull MC or the cartel who kidnapped your daughter.”

  Angie gives my forearm one more squeeze as if to jolt me to awareness.

  “Come on, let’s keep a wide vision before we all glance in one direction and become blinded by the sun. I refuse to believe your little one is in evil hands until we receive some kind of ransom note. Now, did you swing by your house? Because your little girl seems like a tough one who would think she can walk home all by herself.”

  Her words make my throat clog up. I hope to fuck she’s right. “Stay here. I’ll head over. Call me if you hear anything.”

  I rush out and fire up my truck. My house is near the compound, so it takes me no time to get there. My heart skips a beat when I see a note sticking to the door. I rip it off and open the thing with shaking hands. There’s an address on it with the message: Raven is with me. Please come and get her when you have the chance.

  “What the actual fuck?” I roar and grab my phone. Alaric picks up on the second ring. “There was a note attached to my door with an address telling me they have Raven and to come get her. There’s no damn name, just a fucking address. I’m gonna take a picture and send it to you. Then I’m heading over. Talk later.”

  I don’t wait for a reply but end the call, take a picture of the note, and send it to Alaric before I jump in my truck and drive to the address I memorized at first glance. It takes me all but eight minutes to get there, and I don’t care about the risk of going full speed. I need to have my little girl in my arms and know she’s okay.

  When I park my truck along the curb, I don’t notice anything else except Raven, who’s playing with a little kitten in the front lawn of a house. She has the brightest smile on her face, as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. Here I thought my world was crashing the fuck down on me, but this little ray of sun? Fuck. Innocent without a clue about danger or what could happen in the blink of an eye. I damn well love her to pieces and need her in my arms right now.

  “Dead Skunk, you’re in some serious trouble,” I thunder, making her head flash up.

  “Daddy!” she squeals and runs into my open arms.

  That’s my damn heart right there. Out in the open instead of locked up safe behind my ribcage. Motherfucker, if something would have happened to her, I’d be a lost soul.

  “Hey,” a woman’s voice says, drawing my attention.

  Shit. Where I’m normally aware of everything around me, my head was totally consumed with Raven. Anger comes back full force, along with taking in my surroundings. Is this the one who took Raven?

  “Who the fuck are you? You’d better start talking right now. Why the hell did you take my damn kid?” I all but spit in her face.

  “Daddy, be nice. She’s my friend I told you about, the one who waits with me when you’re late picking me up,” Raven scolds.

  I know damn well who my daughter is talking about since she’s been raving about her new friend for weeks, but for fuck’s sake. “You’re
PeyPey Potato?” I snarl.

  My mind is still running laps around the fact my daughter was missing. Believe me, I’m thankful to have her back, but why the hell did this woman take my daughter with her? I know I’m late a lot of times to pick her up—and with the school being closed and all—but come the fuck on.

  “You don’t have to use the road name your daughter, Dead Skunk, gave me. Outside of the biker world, people call me Peyton.” The woman shoots me a sweet smile, but it only aggravates the shit out of me.

  “I’m not here for fucking chitchat. Tell me why the fuck you took her.”

  She tilts her head and pierces me with gray eyes that look anything but dull. “Do you always use curse words in front of her?”

  I’m about to grab this cunt by the throat, but her eyes slide past me toward the road at the same time as I hear a bike coming. A biker stops across the road and I instantly notice the patch of Trigger Pull MC on his leather cut. What the Fuck? It’s the MC we are currently going head-to-head with.

  What the hell is this asshole thinking, riding into Rebel Rage MC territory. The fucker raises his hand and points his index and middle finger at us, at his eyes, and back at us again. He’s fucking threatening me?

  “Come here, motherfucker,” I growl and palm my gun, but he’s already speeding off.

  When I glance back at Raven and Peyton, I catch Peyton flipping the biker off with two hands. Raven is grinning like a fool as she watches Peyton. I have to say, the visual does make the corner of my mouth twitch.

  I can’t help but snicker. “You always use those gestures around kids?”

  She sticks out her damn tongue, and the way I hear Raven giggle? Shit. I can understand why my little girl likes this woman. She’s feisty as hell, but even if my kid told me all about her, it doesn’t explain why she took her.

  But first things first—safety. “Get in the truck. Now, Raven. It isn’t safe with these fuckers threatening us. You too. We’ll talk later and go from there, but for now you’re coming with.”

  Peyton’s eyebrows scrunch up. “I’m not coming with you. All I did was keep your daughter safe so you didn’t have to deal with a truckload of problems. Every kid was picked up already, and it’s Friday, you know, the weekend. And do you know the school can’t reach you? Why do you give them your number when you don’t pick up the damn thing? I called you six times. It’s the whole reason I decided to drop off a note at your house since you weren’t home. Now that you’ve finally picked her up, I can go and drop off the kitten we found near your house. Do you know where it came from? Never mind, I’ll handle it. Go on, hit the road. I have things to do.” She dismisses me, and all her attention goes to my daughter. “Bye, Dead Skunk. Smell ya later, cutie patootie.”

  “Fry you later, PeyPey Potato.” My daughter waves and giggles as she climbs into the back seat of my truck.

  “Nice,” I growl low in my throat at the way these two are familiar with each other, as if they’ve been friends for years instead of weeks. I lean in close to the woman so my daughter can’t hear me. “You get your cunt inside my truck, or I will put you in my truck. Either way, your ass is coming with us.”

  The cunt has the balls to snort. Then she leans in a little closer and fake whispers, “The whole growly thing you did impressed me more than the actual threat. But you know what? I’ll indulge. But don’t go all whiny on me when you regret bringing me with you, understood?”

  I ignore the way my cock twitches as her breath heats my skin. Instead, I repeat, “Get your cunt inside the truck. Now.”

  “Okay, excuse me while this cunt grabs a sweet little pussy, and then we can go.” She snickers as she picks up the little kitten Raven was playing with when I got here.

  Pretty sure the tiny bundle of fur is from the neighbors who told me a few days ago that a stray cat had a litter in the shed behind their house and they were looking for people to take the kittens.

  “Ain’t you the one who’s wearing the funny pants today, eh?” I mutter.

  She glances over her shoulder. “Nothing funny about my lace thong, VP.” Pulling the door open, she climbs into the front seat of my truck.

  I’m tongue-tied for a breath or two before I jump into action and get behind the wheel. As we head for the clubhouse, I try to keep my eyes on the road, but every now and then I throw a glance at the woman sitting beside me.

  I’m aware she called me VP. I proudly wear the vice president patch on my cut, but I have a nagging feeling this woman knows her biker lingo, and I want to know why. Mainly because a sane person wouldn’t double flip off a biker who is making a visible threat. She’s either stupid or has balls of steel. To say I’m intrigued is an understatement.

  Brewer closes the gate behind me as I park my truck in front of the clubhouse. Angie and Alaric are standing in front of the door, and I can clearly see the relief on their faces when they see my daughter jump out of the truck.

  “Angieeeeee,” Raven squeals and rushes over to my pres’ old lady. “Look, I brought my friend. She has a road name too. You wanna hear?”

  Angie squats down to her level and gives her a tight hug. “Sure, sweetie, tell me who your friend is.”

  Peyton slides out of my truck, and without the fear of something happening to my kid, I am now seeing this woman through different eyes. Her burgundy red hair is tied back to keep it out of her face, but I’m guessing it would hang over her tits if she set it free. Her ass is wrapped in torn, light blue jeans, and through the holes in it I can see the fishnet stockings peeking through. Fuck. Talk about giving a man a nice, sexy tease.

  And I have to say, the black killer-heeled boots she’s wearing are giving me visuals of having them stabbing in my pecs while I give her cunt a good pounding. Peyton turns, and those gray eyes hit me and by the twinkle in ’em, it’s clear she can flawlessly read the desire she stirs inside me.

  The pink scrap of fabric she’s wearing as a top is held together by a damn shoelace, and dammit, that’s one fine-looking set of tits to make any fucker’s mouth water. Not to mention the feisty attitude she showed a glimpse of earlier.

  “Do you need me to twirl, stand and do nothing, or shake my ass?” Peyton bites her bottom lip to keep her from laughing, but it only makes my cock harder with the need to have her.

  I step closer so Raven can’t hear me as I whisper to Peyton, “It depends if the twirling and shaking will happen when you’re sitting on my cock.”

  Laughter dances in her eyes as she replies, “Should have seen that one coming, huh?”

  “Believe me, sugar, you’ll see my cock comin’ for sure,” I mutter, and she damn well snorts and shakes her head.

  She pats my pecs. “Who’s wearing the funny pants now, VP?”

  Again with the VP, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to question her about it, but Alaric prevents me from doing so when he says, “Come on, Hunt, inside. I don’t want anyone standing out in the open right now. You too, lady.”

  Peyton tilts her head. “Are you sure I’m welcome inside, Pres?”

  A-fucking-gain she reads the situation and knows Alaric is the president; there’s no way she can see his president patch from here. And there’s something about her attitude. No damn fear or insecurities, she’s steady as fuck in the way she addresses and confronts me and my pres.

  “Why shouldn’t you be welcome here?” Alaric questions, suspicious at her weird reply, just like me.

  She shrugs. “You could regret inviting me once you get to know me.”

  The laughter in her voice and the way her mouth twitches gives the impression she’s just yanking our chain, but I can’t help but to be alert with everything that’s happened and what’s going on at the moment.

  “Pres,” Linc bellows from inside. “Dog needs ya.”

  Alaric raises his eyebrow at me, and I know what he wants—for me to talk with Peyton before I let her inside the clubhouse.

  “On it, Pres,” I state. “Angie, can you take Raven inside and give her a snack? I n
eed to have a word with Peyton first.”

  “Raven, sweetie, can you take the kitten? I need to have a little talk with your daddy, and then I’ll come get him, okay?” Raven takes the kitten from her. Then she and Angie disappear inside, and Peyton turns her attention toward me. “The whole ‘need to have a word with Peyton first’ isn’t code for ‘I need to screw her brains out first,’ right? Or put a bullet between her eyes for that matter. That would be bad. The screwing? Not so much.”

  “And you would agree to that? The screw our brains out part?” I question, because for real, I would totally agree to that. Like literally screw who she is; I’ll find out when my cock is done questioning her.

  Peyton shrugs. “If it’s not here in the open with camera’s on my face. I don’t want to end up on social media. Other than that, sure.”

  She glances up and over her shoulder at the camera hanging on the wall of the clubhouse. Yeah, there’s something about her all right. Most definitely not a damsel in distress or innocent girl.

  “Aren’t you an observant little thing,” I murmur, and my gaze slide to her damn fine tits.

  “Observant enough to notice you have that hard-on before you stepped into the truck to get us here.” Oh, that smirk of hers should be a sweet sight before I slide my cock between her lips.

  Enough talking. I grab her by the elbow and steer her toward the garage on the left. No cameras, no prying eyes—just me, her, and some walls around us for the privacy we need.

  “Pants. Off,” I grunt and work on my belt while my eyes stay on her.

  She glances around the empty garage. We don’t use it all that much since all our bikes are parked outside. When her gaze hits my hand stroking my hard cock, she’s completely enthralled. Her eyes scorch my hard length as if mine is the first cock she’s laid her eyes on. If she keeps this up, I’m gonna blow before I’m inside her.

  Stepping toward her, I grab her arm, spin her around, and plaster her back to my front. My fingers effortlessly pop the button of her jeans and slide the zipper down, giving me access enough to shove my hands down her pants.