Chaplain dark angels mc.., p.1
Chaplain: Dark Angels MC Book # 3 (Dark Angels Motorcycle Club), page 1
CHAPLAIN
DARK ANGELS MC
REAGAN PHILLIPS
Copyright © 2024 by Reagan Phillips
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
1
Eden
Motorcycle engines roar through the night air as I walk across the darkened parking lot and toward our meeting location. Turning the corner, a group of bikers are dismounting motorcycles and gathering by the clubhouse's side door. I immediately recognize the Dark Angel's colors and insignia on their cuts and vests. They are the same as the ones Luca texted with this address. I take a deep breath and continue forward, resisting the urge to tug self-consciously at my dress.
The one who wears the president patch on his chest steps forward to meet me, his expression partly obscured by a black helmet. He looks me over curiously before removing it, revealing a rugged face with sharply handsome features surrounded by close-cut dark hair.
"Eden?" He asks in a gravelly voice.
I nod, extending a hand. "That's me. You must be Ronnie."
His large hand engulfs mine in a firm shake. Before he can reply, my gaze drifts over his shoulder to the man behind him. He is tall and powerfully built, with thick golden brown hair combed flat down the middle and shaved sides. His piercing green eyes lock on mine, and something electric passes between us. I have to stop myself from visibly reacting.
Ronnie notices where I'm looking and glances back. "That's Diesel, our Chaplain," Ronnie says, gesturing to the man behind him." Hope you don't mind him sitting in."
I manage to tear my eyes away, hoping I'm not blushing. "Not at all," I reply as steadily as I can.
This meeting just got a lot more interesting.
Ronnie gestures for me to follow him inside. I can't help stealing another glance at Diesel as I pass him. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down my spine, and for the first time since accepting this job, I'm less worried about the details and more about who I'm selling my soul to.
The clubhouse interior is dimly lit and hazy, with lingering smoke and the smell of stale beer. Members lounge around tables, most with a woman either in their lap, sitting wide-legged on the table in front of them, or on their knees. I look away as soon as I figure out that situation, and at my back comes a low, muted growl from their chaplain. He must have noticed how quickly I snapped my attention to their leader's back.
Ronnie leads me into what looks like their meeting room, the table at the center engraved with the club's name and insignia. The place is immaculate, and as Diesel enters behind us and shuts the door, I feel a world away from the scene I saw outside.
Ronnie motions to a chair across from him, and I sit.
“Thanks for coming out to meet with us. When Luca told us his niece could help with our problem, I figured it was best to discuss business face to face."
I nod. "No problem. My uncle explained a little about the situation - that you've been having trouble with a rival club, and you want to see what you can dig up as leverage on them."
Ronnie nods as he leads me toward the back room.
"The Iron Demons," he says. "Luca's helped us out in the past, so when he said you had skills that could give us an edge on them, I was inclined to trust his recommendation."
"Well, I won't let him or you down," I reply, though after what I've just witnessed, I'm not sure the on-site part of this gig is worth the payout.
Ronnie gives me an assessing look. "You sure about that?"
Something in his calculated stare has me second-guessing. Then I make the mistake of glancing beside him and find Diesel's glare twice as intimidating yet holding an entirely different kind of threat. "You need dirt, I'm your girl."
Ronnie's frown fades. "Good to hear. Luca said you can hack without leaving a trace. We need whatever intel you can dig up on the Iron Demons discreetly."
I fight back a smile from my uncle's bragging. "So, what's the job?"
Ronnie nods. "The Iron Demons have been encroaching on our territory, trying to muscle in on our businesses. We recently had a...disagreement that got violent. We need ammunition to strike back."
"What exactly did you have in mind for me to do?" I ask.
Diesel speaks up, his voice a smooth baritone that sends a tingle through me. "We need anything we can use as leverage. Logistics on their operations, connections, leaders. Proof they're stepping beyond the code of honor among clubs."
I consider for a moment. Clubs and outlaws are more of my uncle's thing. He promised me if he taught me how to hack to earn a living, I'd be straight about it. "I should be able to hack into their communications and transactions, do some deep data mining to find weak spots."
"What exactly will you be looking at?" Diesel's deep voice matches the darkness in his eyes.
I meet his gaze. "Financial records, cell phone data, police databases, weapons registries, offshore bank accounts."
"All that?" Ronnie questions.
I don't look away from the brooding man who matches my gaze with his heated one. "You'd be surprised how big of a digital footprint one person leaves behind."
Ronnie leans forward, intrigued. "And you can do all that without the trail leading back to us?"
"I know how to cover my tracks," I reply with a flicker of a smile to Ronnie.
"So, do we have a deal?" Ronnie asks.
I'm about to say yes when Diesel stands. He looms over me, a towering figure in a leather jacket branded with patches and stitched symbols. His strong jaw is set in a stern expression, and a quiet storm lurks behind his brooding moss-green eyes, barely restrained.
I make the mistake of looking at him, and my breath catches as we stare at one another, electricity arcing between us.
"I don't think this is a good idea," Diesel says gruffly, ignoring my presence. "This is club business - we shouldn't involve an outsider."
Ronnie rubs his chin. "Then what's your plan?"
Diesel's fist slams into the table so hard I rock back on instinct. "We wait for Luca."
His words make my hackles rise. Despite being shocked by his sudden outburst, I stand and face him. "Why, because you don't think a woman can handle it?" I shoot back.
Diesel's jaw ticks. He avoids eye contact. "This has nothing to do with you being a woman. Getting mixed up with the Iron Demons is dangerous, no matter who you are."
"I'm not afraid of a little danger," I say defiantly.
Diesel leans forward, his piercing eyes fixed on mine. If we were alone, I'd swear the sudden parting of his lips wasn't so he could speak. "Maybe you should be. I've seen what Iron Demons do to their belongings." He takes a step closer, and all the air in the room evaporates as he takes my chin between his fingers. "What you couldn't stand to watch outside that door is a fucking amusement park ride compared to how they'd take a sweet ass like you."
A shiver goes through me at his proximity and words, but I hold my ground. "Is that concern I hear? If it is, I'll just remind you who my uncle is. Anyone fool enough to mess with me will have Luca Vitale up their ass."
He steps back, looking none too pleased by my observation.
"She makes a good point," Ronnie chimes in.
I watch Diesel's jaw tighten before he answers. "It's your call to make, prez."
He trails off pointedly. I keep my chin up and turn to Ronnie. "I can handle the Iron Demons."
A flicker of what might have been admiration passes through Diesel's gaze. It gives me a little thrill, as does our charged back-and-forth. As dangerous as this situation is, I have to admit I like seeing this commanding, intense man back down from me.
"Alright then," Ronnie breaks in. "We're trusting you on this, Eden. Don't fuck it up, or it'll be your ass on the line."
I tear my eyes away from Diesel with some reluctance. "I won't," I promise.
Ronnie exchanges a look with Diesel, whose subtle nod approves, but the rest of his rigid body screams no. Ronnie turns back to me and extends his hand once more. "Deal. Let's take down those Iron Demon bastards."
I shake firmly, sealing the deal. My heart quickens as I catch Diesel's gaze again from across the table.
This is going to be an interesting job.
2
Diesel
The roar of engines and raucous laughter filter through the clubhouse walls as I make my way to the chapel office. It's just another rowdy Saturday night for the Dark Angels, but I have church business to handle before I kick back with the others. The perks of being Chaplain - always more responsibilities to juggle to keep everyone in line.
I flip on the light and get settled behind my heavy oak desk, mismatched with the faded posters and dingy metal filing cabinets lining the walls. It's not much to look at, but it's m
As always, my initiation picture hanging above my head demands my attention, and I grimace at it. Ten years ago, I was just another grunt prospect working to earn my top rocker. A retired army vet, just looking for a way to reacclimatize to civilian life, the Dark Angels took me in, and I settled into the easy life of being a patched member.
That was until Ronnie took over as Prez and demanded I be his Chaplain. If he'd only known the fuck-up I'd become, he could have saved us both a lot of trouble and left me the hell alone.
Pushing those nagging doubts aside, I opened the chaplain's logbook. I might as well get the boring stuff out of the way first. I start noting last week's issues and disputes that need discussion at church, skimming past the usual fines for drunken disorderlies and misuse of property, which sends my mind racing back our conversation with the hacker. My mind fumes at her disregard for her own safety as my pen scratches steadily, and I catch myself writing her name. Eden.
I stop, staring at the curve of the E, the loop of the d and wondering if her body is as curvy under that modest dress. Man, I can't get that woman out of my head tonight.
From the moment I first saw her in that alley, something about her drew me in. Maybe it was the fierce determination in her eyes or the way she held herself with such confidence despite being outnumbered by a group of bikers.
No. I know exactly why I can't get our new little hacker out of my head. I've known grown-ass men twice her size who wouldn't have stood up to me like she did. Unmoved by size or rank or fear. And that sharp tongue she fires off when riled up… I've never met someone so bold and fierce in how they carry themselves. She seems near instructable, and the way I go through people, she'd have to be to survive me.
Fuck. Who am I kidding? That woman could own me. She'd never be one of the sweetbutts crawling along the floor, begging for a damn handout and attention. She'd sit on my lap like it was her fucking throne, and she was the queen of everything. She'd rule me, and I can't help the smile that forms at the thought of worshiping at her altar.
Glass breaks somewhere out in the lounge, and the yells and laughter kick up a notch, reminding me this clubhouse is no castle. I scratch out her name and keep working, but even as I try to focus on the task at hand, I can't completely ignore the nagging thoughts of Eden that keep creeping into my mind. This is no place for a woman like Eden, and Luca did a piss poor job of teaching her about our lifestyle if she thinks any of what she said today was safe. I should teach her that lesson. Save us both the trouble.
I toss out that dangerous thought and decide I need some air. Grabbing my smokes, I head outside, hoping the night breeze will clear my fevered mind.
The thud of the closing door muffles the ongoing party within. Out here, the parking lot is quiet, with only a few brothers shooting the shit by a row of bikes. I lean against the wall and light up, drawing the smoke deep into my lungs as I look at the hazy night sky.
My solitude lasts all of a minute before a familiar voice calls out, "Chap! You hiding out?" I look over to see Luca Vitale headed my way, arms spread wide. Though he never wore a patch, Luca's been affiliated with the Angels for years. He and Ronnie ran the streets as kids back in the day, and the relationship never faded. Luca gives me a hearty slap on the back as he joins me against the wall.
"You're a hard man to track down tonight, Diesel," Luca says, grinning. "Been wanting to chat since I sent my niece your way yesterday."
At the mention of Eden, I shift my stance, unable to fully hide my interest. "Yeah? What about?" I ask, trying to sound casual. Too casual, judging by the knowing glint in Luca's eyes.
"Just wanted to touch base, brother. Make sure you understand what you've got on your hands with Eden." He leans in conspiratorially. "Now, I may be biased, her being blood and all, but that girl's skills are something else. A wizard with code and tech. I taught her everything I know, but she's got some natural knack for this shit that goes beyond my skills."
I nod along. "No doubts there. That brain of hers seems sharp as a blade."
"You better believe it," Luca laughs. "And stubborn as all hell, too. Learned young to rely on no one but herself." His face softens a bit then. "Lost her parents early on, bounced around foster care for years. But she's a fighter - clawed her way to the top, same as me."
I stay silent, letting this new glimpse into Eden's past sink in. A bubble of anger rises in me, imagining her fending for herself as a kid. But stronger is a sense of kinship. We've traveled different paths, but I recognize that dogged determination never to be at the mercy of fate again. I can't deny my growing respect for her.
"Point is," Luca continues, "you couldn't ask for someone better qualified to dig up intel on those Iron Demon bastards. My niece will get you what you need and then some."
"I don't doubt that either," I reply. And I mean it - "Eden left one hell of an impression yesterday. Once she sunk her teeth into this, I have a feeling she'll be a force to reckon with." However, this complicated attraction plays out, and having her work this job is a stroke of brilliance. Though I'll never tell Luca, his bragging is warranted.
We chat some more about club politics and business opportunities. Luca mentions the big job taking him out to California for the month, which is why he offered up Eden in his stead.
****
After a while, I part ways with Luca and head back inside just as Ronnie returns from wherever he disappeared to earlier. It's evident from his loose swagger and glazed eyes that drinking, not church duties, has occupied his time tonight.
"Chaplain!" Ronnie booms, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "There you are. Come do a shot."
I let him steer me to the bar, where I oblige his request, hoping the liquor would numb the buzz Eden put in my head. The others have really cut loose tonight. Music blares as an impromptu dance party occupies the common area. Ronnie scans the revelry with a smile.
"Quite a crew we've built, ain't it?" He remarks. "Never seen the club running so smooth."
I follow his gaze, a swell of pride rising through the haze of a second shot. He isn't wrong - since Ronnie stepped up as president, the Dark Angels have expanded operations and boosted morale club-wide. We're stronger than ever. But that growth came with its own share of headaches I've had to navigate these past months.
"Smoothest it's been since the Leeds Park incident," I reply pointedly. Ronnie tenses at the mention of the clash with a rival crew last spring that left three wounded. Not our finest hour. And it's mostly my fault.
"Hey now, we came out on top of that rat-infested bunch," Ronnie says defensively. But I can tell my weighted words hit their mark as intended. He scrubs a hand over his beard, regarding me seriously now.
"Point taken though, brother. Keeping tensions from boiling over again is priority one. S'why we need this Eden situation handled smartly. By the code, not emotions." His stare bores into me, and I brace myself against the warning there. Ronnie sees more than he lets on.
I tip back another burning shot, buying time to collect myself. "Trust me, Prez, I got no trouble keeping work and feelings separate," I reply evenly. "We need what she can do for the club. That's all this arrangement is."
Ronnie searches my face a moment longer before breaking into a grin and punching my shoulder. "No matter the sacrifice. The job gets done." His attention drifts back to the party as a drunk brother leaps onto a table, kicking drinks onto a group of ol'ladies, including his Arya. Ronnie shakes his head, chuckling.
"Alright, I better go handle that before a brawl erupts. You take it easy tonight, Chaplain." He heads off, diffusing the situation with booming laughter and friendly threats. No one can whip even the unruliest member into line like Ronnie can. Nagging insecurity rides up again, watching him work the room so effortlessly.
Shaking myself from gloomy thoughts, I weave my way toward the member's rooms, ready to call it a night.
I've got prep work to do tomorrow before Eden arrives. I might as well be sharp for it. Though as I crawl into my bunk, sleep eludes me for hours. I can't stop picturing that fierce gaze and hearing that quick laugh. Wondering what dress her dress covered and how it'd feel to run my fingers underneath.
