Defining Darkness (Royal Bastards MC Tampa Chapter Book 1)
Book One
K E Osborn
Defining Darkness
Royal Bastards MC
Tampa, FL
Book One
K E Osborn
Copyright 2020 K E Osborn
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations, or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.
This book contains triggers of a violent nature.
If you or anyone you know needs help, do not hesitate to seek it. There is information at the end of the book, or you can click here.
ISBN: 978-0648718420
Editing by Swish Design & Editing
Formatting by Swish Design & Editing
Proofing by Swish Design & Editing
Cover Design by Jay Aheer at Simply Defined Art
Cover Image Copyright 2020
All Rights Reserved
Blurb
What if the man who tried to sell you, suddenly became your captor? What if your captor was keeping a secret from you, and not just any secret, a someone? What if behind the walls he builds, his tough exterior isn’t what he’s portraying?
But then again, what if I’m wrong? What if he is the devil, and I’m left in the dark fighting for every last breath...
Dedication
For Jane. BAE.
Note for the Reader
Below is a list of the other club chapters listed in this book and their authors:
In order of appearance:
Miami, FL – Addison Jane
Anchorage, AK – CM Genovese
New Orleans, LA – Crimson Syn
Lincoln, NE – Esther E Schmidt
Louisville, KY – Izzy Sweet & Sean Moriarty
Ankeny, IA – Kristine Allen
Baltimore, MO – Elizabeth Knox
Tulsa, OK – K Webster
For your convenience, below is a list of terms used in this book.
Any questions, please do not hesitate to contact the author.
Cut—Vest with MC club colors
Duck-walk—Navigating into parking space using your feet
Hammer down—Accelerate quickly
Road name—A name bestowed by the brothers of the MC
Keeping an eye on your six—Watching your back
Cage—car or van
Erin Trejo: Blood Lust
Chelle C Craze & Eli Abbott: Bad Like Me
K Webster: Koyn
Esther E. Schmidt: Petros
Elizabeth Knox: Bet On Me
Glenna Maynard: Lady & the Biker
Madison Faye: Filthy Bastard
CM Genovese: Frozen Rain
J. Lynn Lombard: Blayze’s Inferno
Crimson Syn: Inked In Vengeance
B.B. Blaque: Rotten Apple
Addison Jane: Her Ransom
Izzy Sweet & Sean Moriarty: Broken Wings
Nikki Landis: Ridin’ For Hell
KL Ramsey: Savage Heat
M.Merin: Axel
Sapphire Knight: Bastard
Bink Cummings: Switch Burn
Winter Travers: Playboy
Linny Lawless: The Heavy Crown
Jax Hart: Desert King
Elle Boon: Royally Broken
Kristine Allen: Voodoo
Ker Dukey: Animal
KE Osborn: Defining Darkness
Shannon Youngblood: Silver & Lace
Royal Bastards MC Facebook Group - https://www.facebook.com/groups/royalbastardsmc/
Website - https://www.royalbastardsmc.com/
PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else, and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.
RESPECT: Earn it and Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member, and there will be hell to pay.
HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.
OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Ol’ Lady. PERIOD.
CHURCH is MANDATORY.
LOYALTY: Takes precedence overall, including well-being.
HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.
TERRITORY: You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.
TRUST: Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.
NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Note for the Reader
Authors and Information - Royal Bastards MC Series
Royal Bastards Code
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
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Connect With Me Online
About the Author
Chapter One
PRONUNCIATION
Nycto [ nĭk′tow ]
Nyctophilia [ nĭk′tə-fĭl′ē-ə ]
NYCTO
“Done. I’ll rendezvous with the ship to collect the packages myself…” I pause before speaking again, “As always, it’s a pleasure doing business with you, Andrés.”
His raspy chuckle chimes down the line. “The pleasure’s all mine, Nycto. Just make sure all six packages leave that ship in pristine condition. No damage. Not a mark in any way to the products… you know how I like my presents wrapped.”
I shake my head with a smirk. Fucker. “I’m aware. We’ve been in business a long time, Andrés. Have I ever let you down?”
“Not yet! Why do you think I keep coming back to the Tampa Royal Bastards? You get the job done. No questions asked. I like that about you.”
That’s the thing about delivering the packages the way we do here in Tampa. The buyers want no questions to which I’m happy to oblige, as long as I get my hefty paycheck. I don’t give a shit what I’m delivering in this deal, all I care about is making as many bills for my club as I can.
Being a Royal Bastard means we
’re built for this line of work. We ride hard. We don’t ask fucking questions, and furthermore, we don’t give a flying fuck about anything. Danger? We laugh in the face of that shit, then give it the middle finger for good measure.
We’re Bastards—we live by the code, and we’ll die by the damn code.
I feel sorry for any fucker who gets in our way.
“I’ll inform you when we’re en route. Till then, Andrés, I’m off.”
“Can’t wait to get a handle on these new packages. See you soon, Nycto.” The call ends abruptly, and I throw my cell onto the church table. Picking up my lit cigarette, I take in a long draw as I peer around the room.
My brothers are all watching me waiting for their orders. Exhaling a ring of smoke, I glance at my VP, Void. “We’re making a run tonight to Palma Sola Bay to unload six packages.”
Void narrows his eyes on me. “We transiting them here or straight to Andrés?”
“We collect, then transfer to his men at the yard. Simple snatch and swap. Like always.”
Nerve sits forward, resting his huge fucking hands on the table. “When do we leave?”
I take another drag on my cigarette. “I have shit to settle underground first. Then we leave. Ship should be docking by the time we arrive.”
“Who you wanna take, Prez?” Void asks.
I run my hand over the day’s growth on my chin, thinking it through. There’s always a risk when going on a run. I need to leave at least one good man behind at the clubhouse, just in case. “Void, Nerve, Spark, and Voltage, you’re with me. We’ll take a couple of prospects, too. Everyone else stay back, keep an eye on the place. Be ready with bail money if we need you.”
A chuckle echoes around the room. We might be laughing, but I’m deadly fucking serious. If we get caught, hell, I’m not even sure if we’d get damn bail. “Right, we all know what we’re doing?”
“Aye!” The answer rumbles around the room.
I slam my gavel on the industrial metal desk. The force of the strike causes a couple of giant rivets lining the top edge to jiggle. The table’s old. Small rust stains have formed in each corner from years of spilled booze. The table was in our bunker when we purchased it. The old thing has history. Character. Appeal. When the Tampa Royal Bastards moved into this bunker, or more appropriately our clubhouse, we gave the table new life with our Royal Bastards insignia being proudly displayed in the middle. The bunker was given a makeover to turn it into the clubhouse we need.
My brothers stand to get ready for our mission as I take in the chapel. The area is small, the industrial wall lamps sit against the gray stucco texture illuminating the room, but only barely.
Just the way I like it.
The entire clubhouse is located in an underground bunker which has a rounded ceiling. There’s no natural light.
Light is the enemy in my domain.
I was taught that from an early age.
So, I avoid light as much as possible. I stick to the night. Sure, people mock me, but they don’t tend to last very long.
I have my methods of punishment. Most think my fascination with the dark is unnecessary, so I show them just how beautiful the darkness can be—permanently.
I take one last drag on my cigarette, then butt it. Standing from my president’s chair, I walk out of the chapel to finish what I was doing before church was assembled for Andrés’ call. I know I only have around five minutes before my brothers will be ready.
That should be plenty of time.
My eyes shift to Void. “VP, just gonna finish up, then I’ll be good to roll out. Make sure everyone’s ready.”
He gives me a two-fingered salute as I head for the stairs leading down into the lower bunker. It’s said back in World War II this area was used as a civilian shelter by a man who was wealthy as fuck and wanted protection for his family. The owner had the lower bunker built-in case they were invaded. He could capture the enemy and hold them captive below the main area of the bunker—the sick fuck! But then again, it comes in handy for a club of 1%ers to have a feature like this at our disposal. So, I’m a sick fuck too.
I take the stairs two at a time leading down to the lower bunker. The dim hue of lighting grows even duller. The musty smell becomes thick with the scent of mildew as I open the thick concrete door leading through to the Bricking Room.
The walls are lined with red bricks.
Some new.
Some old.
All holding an array of sins.
“Let me out, you motherfucker!” a raspy voice calls from the other end of the Bricking Room.
I narrow my eyes in the darkened space, my eyesight’s almost crystal clear as Dustin’s terrified face pokes out from behind the wall. His pale skin is almost pasty from malnourishment. His cheekbones are starting to sink into his face.
The corner of my lips turn up as I saunter over to him.
“Nycto, c’mon, man, I’ve been hauled up in here for weeks. I did you wrong, I know that. I’ve paid for it. You gotta let me go, man.”
I step over to Dustin, whose hands are tied behind his body.
His head pokes out through the small gap I’ve left unbuilt. His pleading eyes meet mine.
I tilt my head. “Dustin, Dustin, Dustin. When will you learn? In Florida, the Royal Bastards are the only dealers in heroin. You came into our territory to sell. Now while I don’t personally move the stuff, my brother chapter in Miami does, and Hatch was nice enough to let me handle you. He knows I like to have a little fun from time to time.”
“Fun? You call this fun?” Dustin blurts out through the small opening in the bricks I’ve left exposed.
I shrug. “I call this a balancing act. You tried to shift the balance. I’m simply righting your wrong, but, alas, the fun is wearing thin for me. I think you’ve done your share of recompense.”
His eyes widen as his body begins to shake. “W-what are you saying? Are you going to take me out from behind this damn wall?”
Excitement boils my blood. Adrenaline pumps overtime in my veins as I lean down grabbing the bucket, pulling off the lid to find the mortar powder ready for use. Dustin’s eyes go wide as I pour water into it and stir.
The asshole’s head slowly moves back and forth, letting out a girly fucking whimper. “Nycto, no. Please, man, no. I swear I’ll stop. I’ll get my men to stop, too. Do anything to me. Goddamn anything, but not this!”
I stir the mortar with an evil glint and a giant smirk. Warmth flows through me like the sick fucker I am, but damn, do I enjoy this shit. I grab a brick, the trowel, and scoop up some of the mortar.
“Nycto, c’mon… let’s talk about this. Please!”
I lather on the mortar, right at his chin height. Slowly, over a few weeks, I have been encasing him inside this wall.
Today he’ll meet his darkness.
Dustin’s breathing heavily, the whites of his eyes follow every single move I make in front of him. The power I hold right now gives me a hard-on. This asshole did the Royal Bastards wrong. Now he’s going to fade into the darkness like he deserves.
“Nycto!”
My eyes shift over the brickwork.
The room has held many bodies of the men who have offended the club. Not just Tampa, but any chapter of the Royal Bastards who need someone to ‘disappear.’ If our brother chapters want it to happen, we take care of them. Once we’ve given the body long enough to meet their end, we will break down the wall then dispose of the body. We have upwards of fifteen bodies in here at any one time.
Then there’s the Brick Cell.
A place of immense torture.
I turn back to Dustin, placing the brick on top of the wet mortar, his chin and mouth now covered. All that remains are the two bricks where his terrified eyes frantically stare out at me. Dustin’s desperate as he thrashes about behind the wall, but the space is tight, and his hands are tied behind his back. His clothing’s attached to a hook in the wall at the back, so he can’t move far. He has to stand or hang, it’s up to
him.
I look him square in his scared pussy-boy eyes. “Any last words, Dustin?”
“Seriously! You’re gonna brick me up behind this wall? I’m gonna suffocate and die behind here.”
A slow grin lights up my face. “That’s the idea.”
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as I slather on another layer of mortar. Dustin’s eyes actually begin to water as he pants for breaths. I place the right-hand brick in place, leaving one brick to go.
The saltwater in his eyes well and overflow down his pretty-boy face. I smile, enjoying the fact I’ve brought a street thug to tears. “Remember this moment, Dustin. Remember what happens when you cross the Royal Bastards MC.”
He’s shaking all over as I slather on the last layer of mortar. “Nycto, Nycto, you don’t have to do—”
I place the brick in position muffling his words, not that I care what they are anyway.
A sense of calm rushes over me as another tomb is created along the long line of brick wall. His muffled screams echo from behind the bricks as the faint moaning from last week’s victim starts up from across the room. It’s an eerie sensation, one that sends goosebumps over my skin in an electrifying way.
I take immense enjoyment out of bringing these assholes down.
I love the pain it brings them.
I relish in the fact that I’m forcing them into the dark.
It’s where I live every damn day.
If they’re going to try and dance in my world, then they better learn to dance with the devil.
And soon enough, everyone will learn the devil’s name is Nycto.
Chapter Two
EVA
I have to be brave.