AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A Wicked Rogues Novella
E.F. Rose
About Maverick Rising
Maverick
I’ve been part of the Wicked Rogues MC for as long as I can remember. Giving my all to the club I love, even as I watch our President slowly tear it apart from the inside out. Now, brothers have started disappearing, and deals that had been in place for years are suddenly changing. Something needs to be done, and everyone’s looking at me to make a move. I’m too old for this, but I’ll do what I can. I owe my brothers that much. But the timing sucks. I hadn’t planned on meeting a woman I’ve secretly longed for my whole life. Everything seems to be coming to a head sooner than we had planned, but I refuse to give up on my brothers…or my girl.
Jenny
I grew up in a life people are curious about. My dad is President of a motorcycle club called the Dead Man’s Curse, and my brother is a member, so you can say it’s in my blood. I’ve never known anything else. While the men in my life try to shield me from the darker side of things, I see the distress in their eyes, hear the anger in their voices. It doesn’t help that one of the men they discuss, one they hope will fix everything they’ve been dealing with, is a man who piques my curiosity. But once I finally lay eyes on him, I know he’s the one for me. My soulmate. Unfortunately, things are becoming dangerous. Once the dust settles, I just hope he comes for me. I know I’ll wait for him.
This is a story of a man yearning for the safety he once knew, as well as the love of a woman he’s always desired.
Welcome to the Wicked Rogues…
*Maverick Rising is a prequel to Forever Knight
Foreword
“The dangers of life are infinite, and among them is safety.”
~ Goethe
ChapterOne
Maverick
March 19, 1990
Wicked Rogues’ clubhouse
Shady Hills, California
The crack of metal hitting metal echoes through the gym. I haven’t been in here long, but I already know this isn’t having the desired effect. Basically, to take my mind off the meeting later tonight. As lucrative as our little side job is, my nerves are always shot the day of.
Especially lately.
I joined the Wicked Rogues motorcycle club the day I turned eighteen. This club is my life, my family, and I’ve spent the last twenty-two years devoting myself to it. The past few years, though, have been rough. Both personally and in the club.
Just thinking about it brings up images of the last time I saw my sister, Traci. It hurts, my stomach churning. She wasn’t the person I remembered, loved. The drugs changed her, both physically and mentally, until she was someone I didn’t recognize anymore.
I hadn’t planned on getting into an argument when I pulled up to the house. But given the state of her when she opened the door…disheveled, pale, dark circles under her eyes, hair a mess, spitting a snarky comment as soon as she saw me…I should have known this was a bad idea.
I just wanted to help her. Beg her to go to rehab and get away from the sorry pieces of shit she clung to. But the conversation quickly turned heated. Words were said that couldn’t be taken back. The sound of the door slamming in my face reverberated in the air.
That was almost two years ago. I looked for her, but it was like she disappeared. The feeling of guilt and pain clung to me every second of every day. I knew I had done everything I could, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Around the same time, the club’s president, Fat Mike, decided he wanted to change up how we did things.
Thinking about our President made my eyes twitch. Whereas some members of the club got their road names for their looks, others, like Fat Mike, got his for his actions. He’s a gluttonous pig, period. With everything in life. Be it food, money, girls, alcohol. He can never get enough, and it’s starting to catch up with him. His protruding gut, thinning, greasy hair, oily skin, “shit don’t stink” attitude… However, his radical choices and increased agitation are the big signs his lifestyle had changed him. Which then changed the club.
Individuals we once had a decent relationship with wanted nothing to do with us, and Fat Mike began making deals with people I wouldn’t trust to clean up after my dog. To make matters worse, several brothers ended up in the hospital, got locked up, or just vanished without a trace.
In fact, as far as I could tell, the only ones doing well during these last few years were Fat Mike and his inner circle.
Inner circle… Ha! It isn’t even made up of club officers like it should be. It’s just guys who kiss his ass and have the same viewpoint. I thought a few of them were good guys, but after recent events, I’ve started to question their loyalty to the club.
