Stephanie Brother's Blog - Posts Tagged "touch-her-and-die"

The fourth book in the Outlaw Sons MC series is out, and I’m so thrilled!

Lash is the most easy-going, Stiff is living each day like it’s his last, and Jackal is cool under pressure and loyal to a fault—to the club, to Dakota and to Logan, the little boy she’s become mother to.

And when Dakota is chased by criminals, dirty cops and a murderer, the only ones she can trust are the dangerous bikers who have fallen head over heels for her and become Logan’s heroes after they rescued him.

It’s action packed, sexy and full of love!

I’ve come to love my boys in the Outlaw Sons as much as I do the ones in the Screaming Eagles, and I love seeing the club develop as we move forwards, whether we’re getting to know Hector behind the bar at the Burnout better, or the tension between Hellfire and Grimm develop. But if you haven’t read the earlier books, don’t worry, since they’re all standalone stories and can be read in any order.

How about a little teaser?


Lash

For a moment I stand there, listening. To my right, something thunks against a rusty garbage container, followed by a soft, unhappy noise, like an injured kitten. I splay my hand out at my side, quietly indicating to my friends to wait. I take another step forwards and spot the toe of a tiny sneaker. Shit.

I crouch down low. “It’s alright. I know I might look a little scary, but nobody’s going to hurt you.”

Slowly, a second shoe joins the first, and then a small, dirty face pokes around the side of the container. A boy who can’t be older than four or five is staring at me with wide eyes and messy brown hair. “Are you one of the motorcycle men?” he whispers.

I want to laugh, but I can tell it’s taking every ounce of courage he has to not crawl back into his hiding spot. “Yeah, I guess I am. Where’s your mom, kiddo?”

He crouches down a couple feet in front of me, mimicking my posture, but he hides his face behind his knees. He’s only wearing a thin hoodie with a cartoon dog on the front, and on his back is a small plastic backpack with the same dog. “Work,” he mumbles into his legs.

“Does she know where you are?”
His head shakes in a tiny, silent ‘no’, and he shuffles a little closer without looking up.

Other than freaked out and a little dirty, he looks like someone’s been taking care of him. His clothes aren’t anything fancy, but they fit and they aren’t falling apart, and he doesn’t have the hollow, desperate look of a kid who doesn’t know where their next meal is coming from. Someone is going to be looking for this kid if they aren’t already.

I put out my hand, and he lets me tug him to my side. “Come on, let’s figure out what to do with you, okay?” I slip off my cut and wrap it around him, backpack and all.

He lets out a little sigh at the added warmth and looks up. “Aunt Georgia said to find you.”

“She did, huh? Where’s your Aunt, buddy?”

“She said—she said you only look scary.” A tear rolls down his cheek, and he rubs at it with his fist. “But I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

We can be plenty scary, but I don’t correct him. There’s a lot of people that have good reason to fear us, but this kid isn’t one of them. “That’s a good rule. I’m Lash. What’s your name?”

“L—Logan.”

“There you go. Now we’re not strangers.” I can tell from his squint that even at his age he doesn’t quite buy my logic, but he’s cold, scared, and for some reason, someone he knows told him to trust us. “I’m going to pick you up, okay? And take you somewhere warm so we can keep you safe until we can get you back to your family.”

He nods.

I stand up, and when I reach down, he holds up his arms and lets me swing him up against my chest. Awkwardly, I hold him up with one arm under his butt and the other wrapped around his back. His scrawny arms go around my neck. I know kids are pretty resilient or they’d never make it through half the shit they get up to, but he feels so small in my arms that I’m afraid I’ll break him without meaning to. Jackal and Stiff look about as confused as I feel as I carry Logan out of the alley.

“Guys, this is Logan. Logan, these are my friends, Stiff and Jackal.”

Logan buries his face in my shirt, hiding.

“Is there a lost and found for kids?” Stiff asks.

Jackal grunts. “Yeah, the cops. You want to make that call?”

It feels like he’s my responsibility, but I’m a little out of my depth here. “Maybe we could drop him off at a daycare? They’d know what to do, right?”

That gets Logan’s attention. He twists in my arms, panicking. “No! She said stay with you! You said you’d help!”

“Hey, relax little man. We won’t let anything happen to you,” Jackal reassures him.

We can’t just stand around on the sidewalk with a kid. “We’ll take him to the club. He said his aunt told him to find us but it looks like he got scared and hid. Maybe one of the guys has a girlfriend and there’s been a mixup or something. We're grown fucking men. We can handle a kid for an hour or whatever." I adjust Logan so I can point towards the club. “You see down there? That’s where we live. Want to go see a motorcycle?”

For the first time, curiosity overwhelms his fear and he almost smiles. Logan nods. He leans in and whispers in my ear, “Why are your names weird?”

I stifle a laugh. "It's a motorcycle man thing."

After thinking about it for a second, he nods, like that made total sense.