RoadKill: Savage Hell MC Book 1 Read online




  ROADKILL

  (BOOK 1)

  BY K.L. RAMSEY

  Copyright © 2020 by K.L. Ramsey.

  Cover design: Lee Ching with Under Cover Design

  Imprint: Independently published

  First Print Edition: May 2020

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  CILLIAN

  VIVIAN

  CILLIAN

  VIVIAN

  CILLIAN

  VIVIAN

  CILLIAN

  VIVIAN

  CILLIAN

  VIVIAN

  CILLIAN

  VIVIAN

  CILLIAN

  VIVIAN

  CILLIAN

  VIVIAN

  CILLIAN

  VIVIAN

  CILLIAN

  CAT

  REPO

  PROLOGUE

  SAVAGE

  Savage sat in the holding cell, waiting for the officers to bring Cillian in to see him. He knew his old friend would call him for help sooner or later. Cillian James was the one he failed and Savage lived with that disappointment in himself every damn day. Savage was good friends with Cillian’s dad and had been since they arrived from Ireland when Cillian was just a kid. He promised to keep an eye on him after his parents went back to Ireland and Cillian stayed in the U.S., but somewhere along the line, Savage failed him.

  When Cillian tried to join Savage’s MC, he refused him. Patching in the kid would have been the wrong call. He didn’t belong in that group of military misfits and one-percenters who made up his motley crew. To Savage, they were family but to Cillian, they would mean the end of what he wanted—a chance at a normal life. So, he told the kid that he didn’t want him and even made up some excuse about him being too hot-tempered for their club, just to throw him off the scent. It had the opposite effect though and Cillian became even more determined to find his way in. Even if that meant joining Savage Hell’s rival club—the Dragons. They were bad news and before Savage could step in and save Cillian, he had stolen a car to try to prove his worth to the Dragons. The problem was—they didn’t want Cillian and when it came down to it, they let him rot in prison over a gang prank that went wrong.

  Their leader thought it would be funny to set Cillian up to take the fall for grand theft auto and he took the bait and was now serving his time for the crime he committed. It pissed Savage off knowing that he could have prevented all of Cillian’s problems if he had just let him into Savage Hell. But, it was too late to go back and change all of that. All Savage could do now was help his friend and he was hoping that was why he was summoned to the prison so early on a Monday morning.

  The steel door creaked open and Cillian walked in wearing handcuffs and a smile. The officer instructed them that they were not allowed any physical contact, they only had ten minutes for their visit, and asked Savage if he wanted Cillian’s cuffs on or off.

  “Off,” Savage growled. As soon as the handcuffs were removed, Cillian sat down on the other side of the table from Savage and nodded.

  “Thanks for coming, man,” Cillian said.

  “No problem, Cillian. It’s been a damn long time,” Savage said. “I’ve been here a few times, but you refused to see me—what was up with that, man?”

  Cillian chuckled and Savage sat back to cross his arms over his chest, finding the whole thing less funny than his friend.

  “You haven’t changed a bit,” Cillian said and Savage just shrugged. “It’s been a long time since I heard anyone call me by my real name. I was starting to forget who I was in here.”

  “Yeah, I heard about all of that,” Savage said. “You got into some trouble. I heard you killed a man.” Cillian eyed the guard who stood in the corner of the room, watching and listening to every word they were saying.

  “Nope,” he said. “But, I got the credit in the yard for it and that’s how I got my nickname—Kill.” Cillian flashed Savage a grin and he shook his head.

  “It doesn’t suit you,” Savage growled. “I think I’ll stick with your real name, Cillian.” His friend didn’t seem at all put off by him refusing to use his new nickname, even shrugging it off.

  “Suit yourself,” he said, his Irish accent sounded in full. Savage didn’t realize just how much he had missed his friend until just now.

  “It’s good to see you,” Savage whispered. “So much has happened since you’ve been in here.”

  “Yeah well, ten years is a damn long time. And, I’m sorry about turning you away when you came to visit but I just couldn’t see you. Knowing you were here for me was enough but seeing you would have pained me. I would have longed for a life that I could never have.” Cillian’s expression was bitter and Savage realized that the boy he used to know wasn’t sitting across the table from him. Cillian had become the man that prison had made him. He truly was ‘Kill’ now but Savage refused to believe he couldn’t have the life he wanted, once he got out of that awful place.

  “Why am I here now?” Savage asked, cutting straight to the chase. The guard was watching the clock and he knew that their ten minutes were just about up. It was time to find out why Cillian wanted to see him now after so much time had passed.

  “I’m getting out,” Cillian breathed.

  “That’s great, man,” Savage said. “When?”

  “Probably sometime next week. The date hasn’t been set yet but my lawyer said it’s a done deal. I need an advocate on the outside,” Cillian all but whispered. “I was hoping it would be you.”

  “Of course, anything you need, man,” Savage offered and he meant it too.

  “I can’t be around any felons, as part of my parole conditions,” Cillian said. Savage nodded his understanding.

  “So, no Savage Hell party at the clubhouse to welcome you home then?” Cillian smiled.

  “No,” he agreed. “I appreciate the club taking me under its wing after I did what I did with the Dragons. Savage Hell and you have had my back through all of this, but I can’t be around most of the guys while I’m on parole.”

  Savage laughed, “Yeah, they aren’t the upstanding citizens your parole officer will want you hanging around with, I’m afraid,” he said. “But, you have my help—whatever you need.”

  “Can you pick me up and help me find a place to live and maybe a job, once I get sprung?” Cillian asked. He fidgeted with his own hands on the metal desk and for just a minute, Savage caught a glimpse of the shy boy who came from Ireland and didn’t quite fit in anywhere.

  “Of course,” Savage said. “Consider it done.”

  “How’s the family? I got your letters about Bowie and Dallas—I’m so happy for you, man,” Cillian said. Savage wasn’t sure if he believed him or not. He could hear the undertones of sadness in Cillian’s voice.

  “You’ll get there too, Cillian. Someday—”

  “Don’t,” Cillian barked. “Don’t give me hope for someday, Savage. It hurts too much to think about not having that happiness in my life—a wife, kids—a family. It’s not for me now so don’t feed me some bullshit about someday,” he growled. Savage nodded, knowing that now wasn’t the time to argue with his friend. Not when their precious time was ticking down t
o mere seconds.

  “That’s time,” the guard called. “Let’s go, Kill.” Cillian stood as ordered and nodded to Savage.

  “I’ll be here when you get out, Cillian,” Savage promised.

  “Thanks, man,” Cillian said. The guard put the cuffs back on him and he turned to leave the room. “I knew I could count on you, Savage.”

  CILLIAN

  Kill had been counting down the days to his release and what was promised to be only one week away, ended up being two. When the day finally arrived for him to be released, Savage was waiting for him just outside the prison gates as promised. He was the one guy Kill could count on and he had to admit that it felt damn good to have someone on his side for a change.

  During his exit interview with his parole officer, he was quickly reminded about the fact that most inmates end up right back in prison after they were let out. Kill didn’t want to believe he could so easily end up as a statistic, but it was his biggest fear.

  “Hey, man,” Savage said, pulling him in for a quick hug. “You look good.”

  “Yeah, thanks for sending in some clothes for me. The ones they had of mine, from ten years ago, weren’t exactly going to fit.” Savage looked him up and down as if sizing him up. He was just a kid when he went to prison for grand theft auto—just twenty-three. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  “No,” Savage said. “I guess they wouldn’t. You have filled out in the last ten years.”

  Kill laughed, “Yep. Not much else to do in prison besides lift and workout.”

  “Well, I have a few bags of clothes in the trunk. Nothing fancy, just some stuff the guys got together and my girl loves to shop. Dallas had a field day picking you up some clothes. She even guessed your size and got you a suit, you know—for job interviews and stuff.”

  “I appreciate it, Savage. I’ll find a way to pay you back,” Kill promised.

  Savage pointed his finger at Kill. “No, you won’t. We’re family and family takes care of each other,” he said. “Now, get in. We need to get this apartment hunting underway. Until we can find you something, you’ll be staying with me and my family. I’ve already given your parole officer my address and cell number.” Savage got into the cab of his black pick-up and Kill slid into the passenger seat. He handed Kill a cell phone and he turned it over in his hand. He had never really had his cell phone and wasn’t sure how to work the new ones. He only ever used the ones that flipped open but this one didn’t have that feature.

  “Push the side button and it turns on. It’s charged and I’ve added you to my family plan,” Savage said.

  “This is too much, Savage,” Kill whispered. It was too. He had forgotten what it meant to have family around and Savage treating him like a kid brother made him homesick for something that didn’t exist anymore.

  Kill’s parents announced they were moving to the States when he was fourteen. Leaving Ireland felt like he was cutting off one of his appendages. He reluctantly agreed to follow them across the pond but Ireland was a part of him and he still longed to go back. But now, he had nothing and no one to go back to. His parents returned home, to Ireland just after he turned twenty-one, and he foolishly decided to stay in America. He was trying to get into Savage’s MC—Savage Hell and he thought he was too good to go back to his childhood roots. He told his father that he wanted to stay in America and make something of himself, even implying his dad couldn’t hack it in the States. God, he was an asshole. His father persuaded Savage to keep an eye on him and his parents headed back to Ireland.

  About three months later, he got the call from his Mum that his father had died. He had a heart attack in his sleep and she found him dead the next morning. He didn’t even go home for the funeral, even though his mother begged him to. Savage offered to lend him the money, but a mix of pride and being a stubborn ass took over and he refused. It was one of his major regrets and now that he was looking back, probably the one thing that shoved him down the wrong path. His life seemed to spiral out of control after his dad passed and one wrong decision led to the next and before he knew it, Kill was sitting behind the wheel of a stolen car, trying to prove he was worth something.

  He begged Savage to let him into Savage Hell. Kill showed up to the bar that housed the club almost daily and every time Savage denied him; it drove him further over the line. When the Dragons showed interest in him, he jumped at the chance to be a part of a motorcycle club. He thought he’d show Savage just what he was made of by joining the Dragons and then he’d let him into Savage Hell. He was an idiot—he knew that now. But, at the time, it seemed like such a great plan. It wasn’t and that point hit home when he realized his new club set him up. They knew he was mixed up with Savage and they used him to send Savage Hell a message. Dante was the president of the Dragons and he told Kill that if he wanted to be patched in, he needed to steal a car and bring it to the meeting. He wanted to be a part of something so badly he didn’t think through the ramifications and getting caught seemed like a risk worth taking. He didn’t even get a half a mile down the road with the car he stole before the cops pulled him over. During his hearing, it came out that he was set-up by the Dragons who were cooperating fully with the authorities. The judge decided to make an example out of him and gave Kill a twelve-year sentence, of which he served ten and with good behavior, got out.

  About a year ago, he got a letter from his aunt in Ireland, telling him that his Mum had passed from cancer. He didn’t even know she had the disease and it just about broke his heart that he didn’t get to say goodbye to her. After his sentencing, she wrote him a letter, telling him that she would always love him, but that would be the last he’d ever hear from her and she was a woman who was true to her word.

  “You good, Cillian?” Savage asked.

  “Yeah,” he lied. “Just thinking about everything. This is all a lot to take in,” he admitted.

  “Give it time, brother. You will have to do a lot of adjusting, but I believe in you, man. You need help, you use that to call me,” Savage ordered, nodding to the cell phone Kill was clutching like it was his lifeline.

  “Will do,” Kill agreed. “And, thanks, Savage.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Cillian. You’re bunking with the new baby and he’ll keep you up all damn night long.” Savage laughed.

  “Remember, I’ve been in prison for the last ten years. Rooming with a newborn will be a piece of cake,” Kill said.

  “Yeah, we’ll see if you’re humming the same tune tomorrow morning when he wakes you up at four A.M., man,” Savage said. “Welcome to the family, Cillian.” Savage had no idea what those words meant to him and Cillian swallowed past the lump of emotion in his throat. It felt damn good to have a family again—now he just needed to find his place in the world—his home.

  VIVIAN

  Vivian Ward wasn’t sure how she was going to fit in everything on her to-do list today but she was determined to make that happen, even if it ended up killing her. The diner was once again short-handed, thanks to a teenage employee who thought it was all right to give all her friends free food. Viv knew her grandmother would have given the girl a second chance to, “Make things right,” as she liked to say but that wasn’t her style. Viv was hardcore when it came to giving people second chances, a life lesson she learned when she found her husband in bed with the town whore.

  She had been married to Jason for almost three years when she came home early from her restaurant to surprise him. Truth was, she was the one surprised, finding him in bed with another woman. He made excuses and God help her, she was stupid and desperate enough to believe him. Hell, she even forgave him but that was just part of her need to be wanted and loved—well, according to her therapist. They had done the whole therapy thing and a year later, almost to the day, when she found her husband’s secretary on her knees, under his desk giving him a blow job, she was done. Viv walked out of his office and went home to pack up his shit and kicked him the fuck out of her house. Honestly, it was the best decision she had eve
r made and she didn’t regret leaving Jason even once. Sure, she was a little lonelier but she would rather be alone and happy then with a man she couldn’t trust. Gone were the days when she’d sit at home and worry that her beloved husband was making bad decisions. Every time he couldn’t account for his whereabouts, she’d go half-crazy and fly off the handle, only to let his soothing lies calm her. Yeah, she was a class A fool but not anymore. She was done with liars, done with cheaters and done with men in general. Lesson learned.

  Today, she had bigger problems. She was down to just two employees and one of them was a new trainee. She was fucked until she could find another person to hire. Putting an ad in the paper and waiting for the right person to walk through the door took time—time she didn’t have.

  She blew into the diner like a tornado and found Tina going over how to refill the napkin holders with the new guy—who’s name she could never remember—and Viv rolled her eyes. “You know Tina,” she said seeming to startle them both, “I’m pretty sure that filling a napkin holder is self-explanatory.” Tina nodded and handed the empty napkin holder and a stack of napkins to the trainee and bounced off into the kitchen. Viv suddenly felt way too old to be keeping company with the teens she usually hired. At twenty-eight, she should feel anything but old. But that was the problem with owning the town’s only diner. Teens seemed to flock to the place in droves and they were also the ones who usually answered her ads for employment. Maybe if she held out this time, she’d find someone who could not only help wait tables but also have some experience behind the grills. Her current cook showed up to work on the days he was sober and those were becoming few and far between. She needed to get her grandmother’s old place back on track and running as smoothly as it had when Gram was alive.