Viper

Viper SINFUL WARRIORS MC R. TAYLOR VIPER: SINFUL WARRIORS MC Copyright © 2023 by R. taylor The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to, or downloaded from file sharing sites or distributed in any other way via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of R. Taylor. Editing by: Ms. K Edits Cover by: Dark Water Covers Contents Sinful Warriors 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 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Epilogue Dedicated to Toya and Briasia. Thank you for always supporting me and believing in me. Sinful Warriors CLUB MEMBERS Viper (Prez) Axel (VP) Bear (Enforcer) Torch (Sergeant at Arms) Blade (Treasurer) Chains (Road Captain) Capone (Secretary) Smoke Snake Thor Tiny Dice Doc Ink Diablo Gunner Tech Big Red Prospects Bobby River Luis Chapter One CARA “Aren’t you a little bit nervous?” my sister asks from the passenger seat. Giving her a disinterested look, I turn my focus back on the road. “No.” Even though I’m looking at the road, I can feel her staring at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “Cara, how can you not be nervous? We’re about to spend two weeks shacked up at a MC clubhouse.” She’s been nervous ever since Christian and Cameron called a few weeks ago, asking for our tech skills around the clubhouse. Maybe I should back up a little. My name is Cara Romano. I’m twenty-five years old and I own my own security company with my sister, Sara. I know, big laugh, right? Two women owning a security company. Well, you better believe it. We’re the best in the business. After four years of working for STF—Special Task Force—we decided it was time to be our own boss. We were the youngest recruits the department had ever had and our boss, Mercury, was sad to see us leave but fully supported us in opening Romano’s Security. We create our own cameras, which include nanny cams, property cameras, and doorbell cameras. But that’s not all. We’ve created bug devices for the government and even a couple torcher devices, but that’s top secret. Not to mention our hacking skills. If you need someone found, we’re the people you call. If you want revenge on a shitty ex and want to expose him for everything he’s worth, again, that would be us. Basically, if you need something done with technology, we’re the people you call. “Sara, you act like our brothers aren’t going to be there. You know Cam and Chris would never let anything happen to us. Plus, last time I checked, we can kick ass just fine on our own.” That’s another thing—never underestimate us. People assume because I’m short, standing at five foot three, that I’m an easy target. Not the case at all. Dad made sure growing up, we knew how to defend ourselves. The older we got, the more we liked the power it gave us. By the time Sara and I were twenty, we were highly trained in every kind of martial arts you could think of—Karate, Taekwondo, Judo, Aikido, Muay Thai, Krav Maga, and Jujitsu, just to name a few. “That’s easy for you to say. Chris and Cam are your triplets. But me? I’m just the white girl your parents adopted. They’re going to treat us differently.” Pulling off the side of the highway, I slam on my brakes. “You know damn well that’s not true,” I scold her. Sara has always had this insecurity growing up. There’s no confusion that biologically, Sara is not related to us. My dad is Italian, and my mom is African American. But we’ve never treated Sara any different, so I hate it when she talks like this. When Sara was eight, her parents died in a car crash. We had been best friends since kindergarten. She didn’t have any other relatives, so my family took her in. It really was a no-brainer. Our families were super close. There was no way we would have let Sara go into the system. “I didn’t mean it like that, sis,” she mumbles. “You know I love Mom and Dad. They took me in without question. In my eyes, you guys are my family, blood or not. But it’s a fact people won’t look at us the same,” she says with a sadness in her voice that I don’t like. “Fuck people. When have I ever given a damn about what somebody thinks about me?” “Never,” my sister says with a laugh. “Thanks, Cara, I needed that.” Giving her a brief nod, I get back on the road. We’ll be there any minute according to the GPS. “How much longer?” a high-pitched voice asks from the middle console. “About ten minutes, Demon.” He doesn’t reply, but I know that’s because he’s sick of being in this truck. Demon is my blue and yellow macaw, and he is the bane of my existence. I love the feathery little shit, but I think God put him in my life to test my patience. My two Great Danes, Duke and Daisy, couldn’t care less about the ride. They’re the chill ones out of the bunch,