Midnight Wreckage (Kings of Vengeance MC Book 4)

  Wall Street Journal & USA Today Bestselling Author

  Winter Travers

  Copyright © 2020 Winter Travers

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduction, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) utilization of this work without written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  For questions or comments about this book, please contact the author at winter@wintertravers.com

  Also by Winter Travers

  Devil’s Knights Series

  Loving Lo

  Finding Cyn

  Gravel’s Road

  Battling Troy

  Gambler’s Longshot

  Keeping Meg

  Fighting Demon

  Unraveling Fayth

  Skid Row Kings Series

  DownShift

  PowerShift

  BangShift

  Fallen Lords MC Series

  Nickel

  Pipe

  Maniac

  Wrecker

  Boink

  Clash

  Freak

  Slayer

  Brinks

  Kings of Vengeance MC

  Drop a Gear and Disappear

  Lean Into It

  Knees in the Breeze

  Powerhouse MA Series

  Dropkick My Heart

  Love on the Mat

  Black Belt in Love

  Black Belt Knockout

  Nitro Crew Series

  Burndown

  Holeshot

  Redlight

  Shutdown

  Royal Bastards MC: Sacramento, CA

  Playboy

  Sweet Love Novellas

  Sweet Burn

  Five Alarm Donuts

  Stand Alone Novellas

  Kissing the Bad Boy

  Daddin’ Ain’t Easy

  Silas: A Scrooged Christmas

  Wanting More

  Mama Didn’t Raise No Fool

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Coming Soon

  About the Author

  Ready to start the Fallen Lords?

  Chapter One

  Wake the fuck up…

  Queenie

  “What are you doing?”

  I shielded my eyes from the blinding sun and focused on the woman sitting in front of me. Duchess? I looked around frantically. “Am I dead?”

  “You better not be,” Duchess snapped.

  I pulled out the chair at the table where Duchess sat and plopped down. “Well, I gotta wonder if I am because you are dead, Duchess.” I was sitting at a table, talking to my very dead sister.

  “You’re not dead. I am. Let’s move on.”

  Just like Duchess to jump straight to the point even though there were tons of other things going on. “And where will we be moving on to?” I asked. “The pearly gates?”

  Duchess rolled her eyes.

  I reached out to touch her, but she snapped back and glared at me. “No touching. I’m dead, Queenie.”

  Then why in the hell was I talking to her? What was going on?

  The earth shook around us, and I grasped the table.

  “We don’t have much time.” Duchess leaned toward me. “You need to find him. I’m not there to take care of him, but I know that you’ll do everything you can.”

  “Who? What?” The blinding sun turned up its intensity, and I lifted my arm to shield my eyes. “What is going on, Duchess?”

  “Just find him, Queenie. He’s lost without you.”

  What? What was happening? I frantically scanned around, but the bright light blocked out everything around us.

  I looked back to Duchess. She leaned into me until her nose was almost touching mine and screamed, “Wake the fuck up, Queenie!”

  “Welcome back, sweetie. You gave us a bit of a scare there for a second.”

  I stared up into the face of a woman I didn’t know and blinked rapidly. “Gunner,” I croaked. My throat was scratchy and I could barely get the words out.

  She laid her hand on my shoulder. “Shh, honey. You can’t be moving around too much just yet.”

  The only thing I could move was my eyeballs. If I could have jumped off the table, I would have. “Please, Gunner,” I pleaded.

  Someone fiddled on my side while others moved behind me. There had to be at least ten people in the room who were all hustling around.

  “We gotta get you calmed down right now. Once we do that we can talk, okay?” the nurse replied.

  Calmed down? There wasn’t any time to calm down. “Where is he?”

  “Shh, sweetie. You don’t need to worry about anything right now. We just gave you a little something and you’ll be feeling better in just a little bit.”

  I searched the room frantically, hoping to find someone who would listen to me and get me out of this bed.

  Everyone buzzed around, poking and prodding me. The word surgery was bounced around along with others that were too big for me to understand.

  My mind raced trying to figure out how to get out of here and find Gunner. I asked every nurse who came close to me about him, but they either ignored me or just gave me a sympathetic glance. My eyes grew heavy from whatever shit they had pumped into me. “Just please,” I whispered, “tell me where Gunner is.” My lids drifted closed, and I sighed, defeated.

  Now was not the time to fall asleep, but I didn’t have any other choice. I drifted into the darkness behind my eyelids, desperate to find Gunner but unable to do anything but let the drugs drag me under.

  *

  Chapter Two

  Bubble wrap her…

  Sledge

  “She’s coming home tomorrow.”

  “Already?”

  I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder. The vending machine sucked in the dollar I held up to the slot and then spit it back out at me. “Son of a bitch,” I grumbled. I had been fighting with this damn thing for the past two minutes, and I was ready to punch my fist through the machine to get a cup of fucking coffee.

  “Sledge,” Quinn called, “what the hell are you doing?”

  Trying to get some fucking coffee so my brain could get out of the sleepless fog I was caught in. “Nothing.”

  “You sure you’re good?”

  I could tell Quinn was worried about me. Hell, I was fucking worried about myself. I was torn up and a fucking mess over a chick I barely k
new. Don’t even get me started on the fact that Gunner, a kid I also barely knew, was missing. Women and kids. Two things you never fucked with.

  “I’m fine. She’s coming home because her insurance sucks ass and the doctor says she just needs to be on bed rest for the next week or so. They need that scar tissue around the bullet to start forming.” I wouldn’t mention the fact the doctor wasn’t too keen on her being discharged, but the fact Queenie’s insurance was non-existent put the nail in the coffin—she was being discharged as soon as possible.

  “Bro,” Quinn stressed, “she was shot in the damn back and they’re sending her home already? That seems fucking risky.”

  I thought the same thing, but I had to trust what the docs were saying. What I knew about doctoring could maybe fill two paragraphs. I wasn’t exactly in the right to tell them that Queenie shouldn’t come home yet. “She’s been stable for three days and all that’s left for her to do is heal.”

  And I guess she could do that at home. It would make me feel a whole lot better if she stayed in the hospital until all the holes were healed up, but that wasn’t the plan.

  “Petra was asking about what room she was going to stay in. You want her in yours?”

  Of course, that’s what I wanted, but Queenie was beyond insistent that she was going back to her apartment. “No.”

  “No?”

  I sighed heavily. “She’s going to her place.”

  “Sledge. What the hell, brother? Someone just tried to kill her. You think her going back to her place is the best idea?”

  I did not think it was the best idea, but when it came to Queenie, she didn’t give a flying fuck about what I thought. She was insistent she was going home and then going to find Gunner. She had been talking to the police for the past three days, telling them everything she knew about where Gunner could be and who could have tried to kill her.

  That was, of course, after she coded and almost died.

  She had put that completely out of her mind and was acting like she was good as new to get back to normal. Queenie was far from being back to normal and I didn’t think she would ever have the same normal she had before the incident. She was going to have to be careful every day for the rest of her damn life. If she were to ever be in a car accident or have major trauma to her back, it could dislodge the bullet and kill her. The more scar tissue that formed around the bullet, the more protection she was going to have to prevent the bullet from moving.

  “Have you ever really had a conversation with Queenie? This chick has a mind of her own and she doesn’t give one shit about what I have to say.”

  “Brother, you know she needs to be at the clubhouse. It’s the safest place for her,” Quinn reasoned.

  He was preaching to the damn choir. I wasn’t the one who needed the convincing. “She’s not exactly in any condition for me to drag her to the clubhouse kicking and screaming.”

  “So you’re just gonna drop her off at her place and leave?”

  “That’s what she thinks I’m going to do,” I drawled.

  “So just what are you going to do then?”

  “Wrap her in fucking bubble wrap and not let her out of my sight.”

  *

  Chapter Three

  You can go…

  Queenie

  “I’m fine.”

  “I see that.”

  “So you can go.”

  Sledge dropped the plastic bag filled with my few things from the hospital a few steps inside my apartment. “I think I’ll have a drink.”

  I rolled my eyes and held open the front door. “I didn’t offer you a drink.”

  Sledge winked. “I know, but I’m taking in the fact that you were shot and you forgot your manners temporarily.”

  Rude. I was being rude as hell, but that was the only thing that could scare this biker dude away. He hadn’t left my side since I opened my eyes in the hospital for the second time and I was hard-pressed for him to skedaddle on his way. He was suffocating me. I wasn’t used to having someone with me constantly. Gunner and Duchess were the only people I had ever wanted around me for longer than a couple of hours.

  Someone caring about me? I didn’t need it. Friends and acquittances were good, but at the end of the day, it was just me. Well, me and Gunner.

  “Yes, I was shot, but I haven’t forgotten my manners. Thank you for bringing me home. You can leave now.” There; that was nice. I thanked him for his time and the ride home. Polite as fuck, if you ask me. I motioned out the front door. He could go stand in the hallway of my apartment building but I didn’t want him in my place. “I’ll hold the door so it doesn’t hit ya where the good Lord split ya.”

  “What?” Sledge laughed.

  I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’ve never heard that before.”

  “I’ve heard it, sugar, but normally it’s from someone a hell of a lot older than you are.” He turned his back to me and headed into my apartment.

  “The door is right here,” I called.

  He waved me off over his shoulder. “I know. I just walked through it.”

  Well, it sure would be nice if he walked back out of it. “I’m kind of tired. You think you can skedaddle?”

  “No,” he muffled from somewhere in my apartment. “Go take a nap.”

  I pushed shut the door and gingerly followed in his footsteps. “I will as soon as you leave,” I grunted. Walking wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing, so chasing Sledge around my apartment wasn’t ideal. “Where are you?” I walked through the living room thinking he would be sitting on the couch or something, but he wasn’t there.

  “Bedroom,” he called.

  “Bedroom?” I scoffed. “What in the hell are you doing in my bedroom?” I demanded. I turned down the hallway and he peeked his head out of my room.

  “You got a twin bed?”

  What the hell did it matter to him? “You wanna get out of my room?”

  “I’m not sure you could call this a room. It’s more like a large closet.” He stepped out into the hallway and looked back. “I’m pretty sure I could stand in the middle of your room and touch both sides of the wall.”

  He probably could. Hell, I probably could and I was a good six inches shorter than him. “I just need a place to lay my head and a couple of hooks to hang up my clothes.”

  “Is this place a one-bedroom?” he asked.

  I popped out my hip and rested my hand on it. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t say I would give you a tour of my apartment or anything.”

  He turned his back to me again and continued down the hallway. He pointed to a closed door. “Bathroom?”

  I didn’t answer. I wasn’t going to entertain this craziness by giving him a tour of my place.

  He glanced back at me. “You’re gonna make me open the door?” he laughed. He pushed open the door to the bathroom and flipped on the light. “I think the bathroom might be bigger than your room,” he chuckled. “Got enough shit on the counter?”

  “Can you please leave?” I growled. I didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but he needed to do it outside of my apartment.

  He turned off the light and continued down the hallway. “In due time.”

  Well, the time was due now. Whatever alpha shit Sledge was doing, I was not a fan. “That’s Gunner’s room. You don’t need to go in there.”

  Again, Sledge ignored me. “I’m just looking.”

  Why? What in the hell was going on? Why did he need to be looking at all? “Sledge,” I called.

  He froze in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “Can you please just stop?” My voice cracked, and a wave of exhaustion rolled over me. According to the doctor, I was supposed to be on bed rest, not arguing in my hallway with Sledge.

  Sledge turned fully toward me. “Just let me look in his room and then I’ll help you to bed.”

  I wanted to scream. Why? Why did he need to look? “Whatever,” I grumbled. “Do what floats your boat.” I waved him f
orward.

  The quicker he looked in the damn room, the quicker he would leave.

  He opened the door and walked into Gunner’s room. “Is this the master?” he called.

  I felt like I was on a shitty episode of House Hunters or something. Did I need to explain my apartment to him? “It’s a bedroom,” I grumbled.

  Sledge walked out and left the door slightly open. “How does the baby have a bigger room than you?”

  Gunner’s room used to be mine, but once he moved in, I vowed to give him the best I could. The master bedroom was the best I had. It was his. “He’ll grow into it with all his toys and stuff. It made more sense to just set him up in there right away.”

  Sledge eyed me closely. “I don’t think half the parents I know would do the same.”

  “Then you know some shitty people.”

  He tipped his head to the side. “Fact. You don’t even know the half of it.”

  As exciting and riveting giving Sledge a tour might be, I needed to sit my ass down before I fell flat on it. “Can we continue this at a different time?” I mumbled.

  My eyelids were heavy and I stumbled into the wall.

  Sledge lunged forward and grabbed my arm. “Whoa, let’s get you to bed, sugar.”

  I didn’t even have it in me to tell him to not call me sugar. He could have called me Beck Bangs-a-lot if he wanted, as long as he helped me make it to bed.

  He pulled me to his side with one arm draped over my shoulder and the other wrapped around my waist. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good?”

  “I figured telling you to leave was a sign.”

  Sledge half carried, half led me back down the hallway and into my room. He gingerly helped me lie on the bed and he pulled the blanket over me. “You need anything?”

  My head sunk into my pillow and I closed my eyes. I just needed to rest for a couple of hours and then I would be fine. I couldn’t lie around in bed when I needed to be finding Gunner. “Just let me sleep.” If I didn’t get some sleep, I was going to be useless for anything else. “Just lock the door behind you,” I whispered.