Storm (Sinning Cobras MC #1) - Colbie Kay


I sit at one end of the table while my son sits at the other. “Let’s hash this shit out, Hanger.”

His fists slam on top of the table. “My whole fuckin’ life was turned upside down.”

“You think mine wasn’t? I never even knew you were mine, and I lost out on Jacey growing up. I was grateful to get my daughter back, but to find out I had a son that I never got the chance to know...” I shake my head and blow out a deep breath. “It fucking hurt me. All I have now is the chance to watch my grandbabies grow up. You don’t need me, and I get that, but I owe you my life, son. You could have let me die when I needed that blood transfusion after Deuce shot me, but you didn’t. You gave me your blood, and you saved my life. I get to live because of you.”

His head casts down. “I would have done it for any of my brothers.”

I straighten up in my seat. “But I’m not one of your brothers, Hanger.”

“Fuck!” He rakes his fingers through his short brown hair. “I’ve been so pissed at you, but none of this was your fault. I just—”

“I know. I couldn’t stay angry with your mom either. I fucking love her more than my own life, and I realized that if I held in that anger toward her, I would lose her again, so I let it go, and I’ve been trying to move forward since. I want shit right between us, and as long as there’s this tension between the two of us, our clubs will suffer.”

He nods in agreement. “The Sinners want to join the Cobras. They have wanted this all along, but I shut it down. I think what’s best for all of us is if we join our clubs together.”

“I agree, son.” I lean back in my chair, feeling as though a ton of weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.



“No!” I don’t even recognize my own voice screaming. My eyes widen with the fear that’s swallowing me. I run to her side and drop down onto my knees. Blood begins soaking through the fabric of my denim jeans. “Call 9-1-1!” I yell over and over while tears stream down my face. The wet feeling on my cheeks is foreign to me.

“Storm,” she gasps my name.

“Shh,” I hush her. “You’re going to be fine.” I don’t know if I’m trying to reassure her or myself. She has to be fine. I can’t fuckin’ lose her.

My hands, now red, covered in the blood she’s shed, lie over the bullet wound. I apply as much pressure as I can, but it won’t stop seeping from her body.

The sirens blare in the distance. They soon take her away.

“Storm, are you coming?” I barely hear the words as I’m charging toward my bike.

I climb onto my Harley without responding. My mind is consumed with one thought: I’m going to kill that motherfucker.



I lean against the doorframe, watching Haven sleep so fuckin’ peacefully. It took time for her to sleep through the night without waking and screaming as if someone was fuckin’ killing her. She’d open her eyes and see me standing right where I am now, her body would slump as if she was relieved, and a small smile would ease onto her plump lips before she’d fall back to sleep. After a while, it became routine. I was here to keep the nightmares away. Eventually, the screaming stopped, but she still wakes every now and then to make sure I’m still here. “I’ll always be here,” I whisper.

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to rid myself of the ache that pounds in there every goddamn time I look at her. She is beautiful. Her hair’s the color of chestnuts with curls that flow down her back. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve wished I could run my fingers through the long strands. She has these chocolate doe eyes with long, thick black lashes that damn near drop me to my knees when she gazes at me. Her petite little frame makes me want to pick her up and have her legs wrap around my waist just to feel her body pressed against mine.

“Fuck!” I groan and silently beg my cock to stop fuckin’ growing. I run my fingers through my silver-streaked hair while trying to push those fuckin’ images out of my goddamn head. Christ, I’m fuckin’ Copyright 2016 - 2024