Free Call Me...Vengeance: Book 1 in the Vengeance MC Series by Natasha Thomas

specimens of deliciousness close enough to touch. It’s only fair you take plenty photos for me to drool over.”
     
    I flick my blinker on to change lanes, pulling into the last gas station before reaching, Furnace.
    “Ah, no,” I hedge. “But why can’t you just wait until you get here? It’s only a month, Bec. Surely you can wait to refill your rub bank until then.”
     
    “Nope, sorry. Not gonna happen. One stinking photo, Beth. That’s all I’m asking for. Not a kidney. Not part of your liver. Just a damn photo,” Bec demands.
     
    When I told Bec I was moving to Furnace to help Jonas with the shop, she ran a gamut of emotions before settling on defiance. My best friend is opinionated, strong, fiery, and determined when she wants to be, and this was one of those times. Bec refused to let me go without her, but she couldn’t leave her job on short notice like I have.
     
    There’s one way to distract Bec, and while I hate doing it, it’s everyone for themselves sometimes.
    “How about when I see Jonas in an hour or so I take a picture of him and send it to you. He’s tall, he’s sexy and he rides a bike, does that work for you?”
     
    “You’re a shitty friend sometimes. You know that right?” She hisses.
     
    “And you love me anyway. Now, I’ve got to get back on the road but I’ll call you when I get there, okay?”
     
    “You better,” she replies disconnecting.
     
    I don’t know what went on with her and Jonas the last time he came to visit, but whatever it was all I can say is; it’s going to be a hell of a lot of fun to watch the sparks fly when she gets here.

CHAPTER SIX
~ Boss ~

Women; the most dangerous creatures on the planet
- A fact of life
     
    There aren’t many things I haven’t done in my lifetime. Fighting, fucking, drinking, lines of blow, and the occasional joint was par for the course. I’d go as far as to say, until five or so years ago, they were part of my usual daily routine.
     
    The way I chose to waste my life, getting high and fucking everything that moved were the only similarities between my Dad and me. Up until the day he died, Hog spent his days pickling his liver, banging whores, and smoking crack. I’d watched him do lines of blow off club whores naked bodies before I could label the body parts I was seeing. Watching him fall down drunk off his ass was a daily ritual by the time I was four. Sex wasn’t a myth to me, seeing as by the age of ten I’d seen Daddy dearest fuck women in every conceivable way and hole.
     
    There were times, when I was still working out what kind of man I’d be when I grew up that I’d ask myself; what chance did I have of turning into a half decent man if that was who I had to look up to? At the same time, Emily reminded me over and over again that my excuses would only hold up for so long. I couldn’t blame the man I refused to acknowledge raised me for the choices I made. She was right too. That excuse wore thin quickly, and instead of falling into the same rabbit hole as, Hog, I wanted to be a different man. A better one.
     
    After sixteen years – I began when I was eighteen and was just starting out as a prospect – of snorting coke and drowning myself in alcohol and pussy, I decided to cut all of that shit out of my life. I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t end up a degenerate like my father. If I’m honest, making the change hadn’t been as hard as I thought it would be. Actually, in hindsight, it was kind of fucking sad I hadn’t done it years earlier if it was that easy to be done with everything that was slowly killing me.
     
    In the beginning, I thought I’d miss the parties, the drugs, the nameless, faceless women, but I hadn’t. In fact, I found that I finally saw it all for what it really was; pathetic.
     
    Bluntly put, I’ve had more pussy than I have months in my life. I’d worn that number as a badge of honor. But now, not so much. If I’m honest, it makes me feel sick now when I think