Never Kiss an Exile: Exile Love Biker MC Series Book 1

  Never Kiss an Exile

  (Exile Love Biker Series Book 1)

  By: Kara Summers

  Copyright 2016 by Kara Summers - All rights reserved.

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  Table of Contents

  Main Story

  By: Kara Summers

  Never Kiss an Exile

  Bonus Historical Romance Stories

  Beatrice Mystery Romance

  Mail Order Brides

  Mail Order Bride: Sara’s Child

  Mail Order Bride: Mary’s Faith

  Mail Order Bride: Marianna’s 2nd Chance

  Mail Order Bride: Georgina

  Mail Order Bride: Amelia

  Mail Order Bride: Rebecca’s Hope

  Mail Order Bride: Drusilla

  Mail Order Bride: Dyani

  Mail Order Bride: Eden’s Devotion

  Mail Order Bride: Mari’s Child

  Mail Order Bride: Corine’s Rescue

  The White Feather Challenge

  Two Exclusive Bonus Books Never Released By Kara Summers

  The Cursed Highlander’s Child

  Mystique

  Never Kiss an Exile

  (Exile Love Biker Series Book 1)

  Chapter One

  I sighed softly and looked up at the ceiling fan. The blades turned slowly, not offering much relief from the stifling Georgia heat. I loved Atlanta, but damn did it get hot. The small apartment I shared with my dad was dead quiet, with the exception of a nearby phone ringing. It could have been four doors down with how thin the walls were. I hated this place but that didn’t really matter; it wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go.

  Mom didn’t want me back after all the trouble I got into my last year of high school. It was a miracle they let me graduate. She put up with me for another year or so and then she shipped me off to live with Dad. Dad…it was still weird to call him that. I hadn’t seen him in almost a decade until the day I was loaded onto a bus and sent to live with him.

  He wasn’t the type of guy a mom wanted in her daughter’s life. He was crude and I was pretty sure he was involved in some illegal stuff, but he was never home so I didn’t give a damn. He didn’t bother changing much about his life when we met.

  I’d been here for about two years now and the relationship between me and Mike (my dad) hadn’t gotten any better. We were still estranged since we spent little to no time together, though I didn’t really mind. He was a dick in all honesty and the type of guy who didn’t care about anyone but himself. It was better that way though; at least he never got my hopes up.

  I was pretty sure my mom sent me to live with him to show me that life could be worse. She wanted me to experience the hard life my father lived and she expected I would call her crying and begging her to take me back, but it seems like that little plan had backfired on her. I liked it here and I had no intention of going back to Boston.

  I had freedom here, freedom like I’d never had with my mother. It was probably why my dad had bailed too. I couldn’t really blame him; Mom could be a hard ass. I was a few months from my 21st birthday. Dad had managed to remember all my birthdays, leaving me a cupcake on the dining room table and a weird gift I never wanted.

  He had a habit of buying me presents that I’d never use. For the longest time it was nail polish, all kinds of nail polish, mostly in baby blues and pinks-colors I would never dream of wearing. He finally got the hint at some point, maybe he actually started paying attention, and he bought me black. Now it was black everything, which I didn’t really mind.

  I rolled onto my stomach and glanced down at the hard wood floor, running my hand over it for a moment, almost wincing at the heat that emanated from it. I liked the South, but I didn’t like the heat. Not one bit.

  The sun was high in the sky now, and I figured I ought to get out of bed. I didn’t have to be to work today but that didn’t mean I was going to be content to lay in bed all day and do nothing. I changed into a short black skirt and a tight shirt that I got at some concert I could barely remember. I threw on some boots and then I place a black beanie over my blonde hair. I’d put some pink and blue highlights in the golden locks when my mom kicked me out. I was finally in a position to be the person I wanted to be and I wasn’t going to pass that up.

  Just as I was grabbing a Pop-Tart from the sparse pantry my phone began to buzz. I pulled it out of my back pocket and answered without looking at the screen.

  “Yo,” I gave my standard greeting.

  “Chloe?”

  “Hey Gina! What’s up girl?”

  Gina was my best friend. A Southern girl through and through with a kick ass-punk attitude. I loved her dearly. She almost made this heat bearable.

  “Are you working today?” she asked.

  “Nah. I actually just got out of bed,” I hummed, popping my breakfast into the toaster. “Why?”

  “There’s a big biker rally this weekend! People are coming from everywhere, even as far as Nashville. How fucking rad is that?”

  “A biker rally? What would be so fun about a biker rally?” I grumbled.

  I had a bit of an aversion to bikers as it were. My dad was one and he was a piece of shit. In my mind he represented the biker community and it wasn’t really something I wanted to get involved with. They were dangerous, unpredictable, and had no redeeming qualities as far as I could see. I may have been a rebel and a ‘bad girl’, but I wasn’t stupid enough to get tangled with bikers. Not like my mom in her wild years.

  “Don’t be such a baby, Chloe. It’ll be fun,” Gina whined.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “God, you’re such a downer. Fine, let’s go grab lunch and hit up some bars? Your fake ID still good?”

  “Of course it is! You know our guy makes flawless fakes,” I responded.

  I grabbed the Pop Tart as it popped from the toaster and stuffed it in my mouth. “Where are we going to meet?”

  “Did you really just ask me that?” she drawled.

  “The Majestic?”

  “Duh. I want a milkshake. See you soon boo.”

  I chuckled and hung up the phone, tucking it away in my pocket. As I made my way out the door I saw a note taped to it. The hand writing was easy to recognize as my dad’s. I plucked it from the door and read over it, frowning at the message.

  Chloe,

  Stay away from the biker bars. Bad news.

  He’d never been the best with words but he’d also never left me a message like this before. It struck me as odd but I shrugged and crumpled it up before tossing it over my shoulder. I wasn’t worried about getting hurt.

  I was Chloe Field and I was invincible.

  Chapter Two

  It was just as hot outside as I expected it to be. The air was oppressive and sweat was already starting to bead on my forehead. I brushed my fingers through my blonde hair, secretly thankful to Gina for talking me out of dying it a dark color. She warned me that it would attract the sun and get way too hot and I was grateful to her for the warning, though I’d still acted petulant about not having dark hair.

  The streets were as busy as you’d expect on a hot summer afternoon. A few people were walking up and down the street in shorts
and tank tops, but most people were holed up in the mall or at home where cold AC units offered relief from this fucking heat. It was the one thing I hated about Atlanta. I hated the heat. I hated the way that even the branches on the trees seemed to droop in utter defeat against it.

  Luckily I didn’t have to walk too far. I lived close to a tram station and hopped on happily. I sighed with delight as the cool air hit my face. I collapsed into one of the seats and stuck headphones in my ears, not really interested in talking to anyone. People had a tendency to think that public transport was a place to make friends. They would talk your ear off if you didn’t have headphones in. It was the most annoying thing I’d ever experienced in my life.

  I’d grown up in a small town just outside Boston and I wasn’t used to people poking around in my business for no reason. Now don’t get me wrong, people in small towns love to gossip but they have a tendency to do it behind your back and never to your face, so it was less invasive than what I faced here in the big city.

  I got off in the heart of downtown Atlanta and walked through the street, taking in all the people. One of my favorite parts about living in a big city was people-watching. Coming from a small town where everyone looked the same, and there was little to no variation, Atlanta people-watching was like hitting the jackpot., I couldn’t go more than five feet without seeing a new look. There were Goth kids, glamour moms, and even the occasional drag queen. I loved taking in all the colors and looks.

  I never talked about my hopes and dreams since no one seemed to care, but I had hopes of being a fashion designer. I never bothered expressing this to anyone because I knew it would be brushed off as stupid. It was the story of my life, really. I had a tendency to curl inside of myself and block the world out. I was always good at being on my own and making things work for myself.

  My mother loved me in her own way, but she loved me at a distance. She was always a guarded woman who struggled to express herself in a healthy way. Her fling with my father and subsequent marriage was her attempt at shaking things up. Obviously, that hadn’t worked out too well.

  Growing up with a woman like her made me clam up just like she did. I didn’t want to be around people - I wanted to watch from a safe distance so no one could hurt me. It had affected my life in a way I hadn’t really noticed until I got into high school and really started to try and make friends. I was suddenly very aware of how isolated I was and how alone I felt.

  I sighed and frowned, looking up at the brightly colored diner. The Majestic was Gina’s favorite restaurant and I couldn’t really blame her. It was an Atlanta staple and they made the best damn milkshakes.

  The second I entered the diner I heard a distinct voice call for me through the relatively small building.

  “Yohoo0!”

  I laughed and crossed over to the booth where Gina had already made herself at home. She was leaning against the wall with her feet kicked up in the booth while she sipped on her orange milkshake.

  “Took you long enough,” she teased.

  I shrugged and smiled as I settled across from her and stole a few fries. “You know I take the tram.”

  “Subway?” she asked.

  “Tram,” I corrected.

  Gina was an Atlanta native and considered the monorail system a subway. I did not, seeing as how it was above ground. It was an argument we’d never solve. She smiled and turned to face me, putting her chin in her hands. Her grin was infectious and I couldn’t help but return it.

  Gina was my best friend and one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever met. She had naturally dark hair and skin that was the color of deep mahogany. Her eyes were almost gold and reminded me of honey. She could have been a damn model if she wanted to. Too bad she was more interested in biology.

  The average person wouldn’t expect us to be friends. Gina got herself into her fair share of trouble, but she made up for it with her ridiculous intelligence. She was a freshman at the University of Georgia and lived on campus. She came home during the weekends, but I didn’t see her as much as I would have liked. Gina was one of my only friends and when she wasn’t in Atlanta this massive city felt so damn lonely.

  “You don’t look like you’re ready to go to the bar,” I murmured, eyeing her fitted jeans and tank top.

  Gina snorted a little and crossed her arms over her chest. “Girl, you know my mama wouldn’t let me leave in club gear,” she said holding up her back pack. “What about you?”

  “You know I don’t dress up for that shit,” I said, tapping my foot.

  “And why not?”

  “I’m just not interested in drawing the attention of guys at bars, especially if the city is going to be full of bikers,” I murmured, shrugging.

  Gina didn’t really understand my aversion to bikers. They came through Atlanta often enough that the locals didn’t think much about them. They were an expected nuisance like fire ants or mosquitos. They might nip at your legs and arms, but they weren’t going to cause any real damage. I just didn’t see them that way.

  I knew about the things my dad had done in his ‘wild years’. My mother told me all about the stores he burned down and the fights he started. There was even a rumor that he was involved with a drug ring and some possible murders. I wasn’t sure about the last two but I wouldn’t put it past him. He’d been a druggie his whole life and never managed to break the cycle of addiction. My mom thought he was clean but I’d caught him using more than once. I’d considered telling her about this, but I didn’t really want to go back to Boston.

  “You’re no fun,” Gina said with a pout, dipping her fries in her milkshake.

  “I’m plenty of fun. You just like going dangerous places and I end up being den mother. I always have to save your ass.”

  “Yeah. Like that time you stopped me from going home with the guy in the Ferrari?” she snorted, rolling her eyes.

  “Rich guys murder people too,” I pointed out, stealing some more fries. I didn’t want to spend my own money, so I wasn’t above stealing Gina’s food. “You’re too trusting.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “No, you’re too paranoid. You have this ‘bad girl in a leather jacket’ persona, but you’re scared of your own damn shadow.”

  I hated when she read me like that. Gina was going to get herself kidnapped one day and I couldn’t help but worry about her overly trusting nature.

  “It’s not fear. It’s caution,” I murmured.

  “Whatever you call it, it’s no fun,” she said simply.

  “You say shit like that and it makes me want to go home.”

  Gina sighed and got in on the same side of the booth, draping her arm around me. “I’m not being mean. I just want you to loosen up a little and have some fun.”

  “I’m plenty loose.”

  “No you aren’t. I can tell by those clothes. Now, let’s hit the mall so we can get you something decent to wear.”

  “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” I asked, frowning a little.

  “Not until I see your perfect ass in a dress that actually shows it off.”

  I rolled my eyes but sighed and nodded. “Fine. If it’ll shut you up.”

  Gina squealed and threw her arms around me, kissing my cheek excitedly. “You’re going to be so pretty!”

  I didn’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult and I wasn’t quite as excited as she was - but I suppose it wasn’t going to kill me to pretend.

  Chapter Three

  “You seriously expect me to walk into the bar looking like this?” I hissed, pulling at the hem of the incredibly tight black dress.

  It was made out of a fake leather and hugged every curve of my body in ways I wasn’t really enjoying. I wasn’t the type of girl to wear tight, revealing clothing and this black leather dress was a bit of a change from my normal attire. I fucking hated it.

  “You look so good! Quit whining and put your heels on!” she said, handing me heels that looked more like booties.

  “I
draw the line at heels,” I said quickly, turning away from her and crossing my arms.

  “You’re going to look ridiculous if you wear Converse in that dress!”

  “Then I’ll look ridiculous. I already told you that I’m not out here to find a man,” I growled, turning away from her.

  “You can be so damn stubborn,” she sighed, crossing her arms as street lights blurred past us.

  We were back on the tram and heading across the city. The bar we were headed to was on the outskirts of town since biker bars didn’t normally last long in big cities. There was enough crime in downtown Atlanta and the police didn’t want to complicate the situation with a damn biker bar.

  “What’s your deal anyway?” she finally asked, turning to glance at me. “You always throw a fit when I want to go to a biker bar.”

  “It’s dangerous, okay? I know you think the world is all butterflies and sunshine but there are sick people out there and bikers can fall under that category” I said simply, still unhappy about the situation.

  She sighed and took my hand. “Look, it’s not that I think the world is perfect. I know there are bad people out there. I mean, I grew up in Atlanta, girl. I had to deal with racism and sexism every day of my life. I got bullied, threatened and everything else. I know there are bad people, but you can’t let those people define your world. I’m not going to give up on everyone because of a couple bad eggs. I’d rather believe that people are good until they do something bad.”

  I sighed and looked over at her for a moment. “But what if the bad thing they do is to you?”

  “It’s a risk you take. I mean every time you get out of bed you run the risk of breaking your neck!” she said with a soft smile. “It’s always so strange to see you like this. You’re so outgoing and fun with me. You’re always taking risks, but when it comes to people, you’re just so damn hesitant.”

  I set my jaw, not wanting her to know what was really going on in my head. I was hiding again. Even now I was hiding from my best friend. I shrugged a little and shook my head.