A Very Venom Christmas: RBMC Ankeny IA

A VERY VENOM CHRISTMAS, 1st Edition Copyright 2020 by Kristine Allen, Demented Sons Publishing.

All Rights Reserved.

ISBN-13: 9798685546289

Published in the United States of America. First published in November, 2020.

Cover Design: Lou Gray

Photographer: Brenda Keller, www.stillhouseimages.com

Cover Model: Martin Ghrist

Editing: Olivia Ventura, Hot Tree Editing, www.hottreeediting.com

Formatting: Champagne Book Design, www.champagnebookdesign.com

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content. For information, contact the author at kristine.allen.author@gmail.com. Thank you for supporting this author and her rights.

Warning: This book contains offensive language, mild violence, and sexual situations. Mature audiences only, 18+ years of age.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Royal Bastards Code

Royal Bastards MC Series Second Run

A Very Venom Christmas

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

Other Books by Kristine Allen:

About the Author

To Crimson and Nikki. This project was your baby, yet you included my crazy ass. Bet you had no idea what you were getting into. Love you girls to pieces!

PROTECT: The club and your brothers come before anything else and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.

RESPECT: Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.

HONOR: Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.

OL’ LADIES: Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s ol’ lady. PERIOD.

CHURCH is MANDATORY.

LOYALTY: Takes precedence over all, including well-being.

HONESTY: Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.

TERRITORY: You are to respect your brothers’ property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.

TRUST: Years to earn it… seconds to lose it.

NEVER RIDE OFF: Brothers do not abandon their family.

ROYAL BASTARDS MC SERIES SECOND RUN

E.C. Land: Cyclone of Chaos

Chelle C. Craze & Eli Abbot: Ghoul

Scarlett Black: Ice

Elizabeth Knox: Rely On Me

J.L. Leslie: Worth the Risk

Deja Voss: Lean In

Khloe Wren: Blaze of Honor

Misty Walker: Birdie’s Biker

J. Lynn Lombard: Capone’s Chaos

Ker Dukey: Rage

Crimson Syn: Scarred By Pain

M. Merin: Declan

Elle Boon: Royally F**ked

Rae B. Lake: Death and Paradise

K Webster: Copper

Glenna Maynard: Tempting the Biker

K.L. Ramsey: Whiskey Tango

Kristine Allen: Angel

Nikki Landis: Devil’s Ride

KE Osborn: Luring Light

CM Genovese: Pipe Dreams

Nicole James: Club Princess

Shannon Youngblood: Leather & Chrome

Erin Trejo: Unbreak Me

Winter Travers: Six Gun

Izzy Sweet & Sean Moriarty: Broken Ties

Jax Hart: Desert Rose

Royal Bastards MC Facebook Group

Links can be found in our Website: www.royalbastardsmc.com

Character Acknowledgments:

Thank you to Nikki Landis for:

Jigsaw (Nomad) from Tonopah, NV Chapter

A Very Venom Christmas

I’m Decker Venom Pruitt—President for the Ankeny RBMC. I’m a fair man, but those who’ve crossed me know my retaliation is swift and lethal. Venom runs through my veins.

After the army, all I needed was my club. Emotionally bankrupt, I had nothing to offer a woman. She wanted me to show her who I really was, but that was impossible. I was her worst nightmare.

Two pink lines changed everything.

Too late, I found out she’d gotten tied up with the wrong crowd. Trouble was falling all over us like the winter snow—steady and determined to bury us. That wasn’t happening on my watch.

Sometimes it doesn’t take an army, just one man full of venom and nightmares.

Heroes—Shinedown

The drive up to northern Iowa wasn’t overly long, but it was a lot of the same. Plenty of time for a man to think. I did a lot of that every time I went up to deal with my stubborn grandmother.

Elbow on the door, thumb under my chin, and finger tapping nervously on my closed mouth and snakebite piercings, I drove. With no music playing, my wipers beat out a tempo that matched my heartbeat, and I kept an eye on the road.

Voodoo’s grandmother had called me right after I left with some cryptic weird message that she saw my path diverging from the one I had laid out. That I would have choices to make that would change everything I believed in.

When ringing filled the cab, I glanced at the display to see Raptor’s number pop up.

Yeah, I answered gruffly. Everything okay?

He scoffed. Of course. Do you really think I’d let shit fall apart in three hours? I was only checking on your ass. Making sure you weren’t in a ditch somewhere. This weather is the shits.

Shaking my head a bit, I chuckled. Obviously I’m alive and kicking.

Well, give Margaret my love. You know she’s gonna give you shit for not bringing me along, he teased.

I will, and quit flirting with my grandmother. Jesus, that’s just weird.

She loves it, and you know it. Besides, she knows I don’t mean anything by it. He giggled like a kid, and I rolled my eyes.

Bye, I loudly said over his laughter.

Out, he replied, still laughing, and ended the call.

I pulled into town and up to the retirement apartments she’d recently moved into. The lights were on, telling me she was up and likely ready. Glancing at the time, I noted that we needed to get back on the road soon to make her appointment.

Reaching up on the dash, I grabbed my beanie and pulled it down over my ears. Then I pushed the door open and hopped down into the blowing snow. Freaking snow in October was ridiculous. When I was a kid, it happened all the time. It was crazy to have as much snow as we’d had in the past couple of years.

The door swung open as I approached, proving my assumptions were correct.

Decker Pruitt, you always were too damn stubborn for your own good, the diminutive woman barked at me.

Grunting, I stepped inside and shook the snow off.

You’re getting that all over my floor, she chastised. Arms akimbo, she craned her neck to look up at me, all of five foot one. I dwarfed her, but you wouldn’t know it by her attitude.

The seventy-one-year-old woman had become a grandmother at the young age of thirty-three when my fifteen-year-old mother popped me out. Mom had moved to Florida after her second marriage and had tried to get Grams to go with her, but she refused to leave Iowa. So I’d done my best to watch out for her.

It’ll dry, Grams. Or if you have a dirty towel, I’ll wipe it up for you, I offered politely. She might be tiny, but she demanded respect. Even from my thirty-eight-year-old ass.

Hmpf, she huffed. It’ll dry. Besides, we need to go so you have time to buy me a coffee.

I fought rolling my eyes at her reiteration of exactly what I’d said, with the addition of me buying her a coffee. You’re not supposed to have coffee.

If it’s decaf, I can. One cup. Doc said. Now let’s go before we have to rush and end up in a ditch thanks to this crazy weather. She handed me her coat to hold out for her, which I dutifully did. Then she wrapped a scarf around her neck, regally pulled on gloves, and hooked her purse over her forearm.

Pressing my lips flat to keep from smiling, I held the door as she exited, reached down for the folding stool, and followed her to the truck. She was only pissed because I was going with her to get the info firsthand from the doctor about her condition and needs.

After setting up the stool and helping her into the truck, we hit the McDonald’s drive-thru, then got on the road.

She literally didn’t speak for the first twenty minutes. Then she swiveled her head in my direction and stared for a moment. So, you meet a nice woman yet?

Grams, I started in warning. We’d had this discussion over and over.

Decker, you’re not getting any younger. Is that more gray in your beard? You’re going to be a grumpy old lonely man one day. I’d like some great-grandbabies before I’m too old to enjoy them, too. I practically choked.

I’m not having kids, and I don’t want a woman, I muttered.

Her stare bored into the side of my head. Finally, she ominously spelled out, Famous… last… words.

That time I did roll my eyes.

I don’t, I insisted.

She huffed, then moved on. Why didn’t you bring that handsome boy with you? What was his name? Adrien? she asked, knowing damn well what Raptor’s name was.

Because he’s running the club while I’m up here, I said, full of exasperation.

What’s to run? There’s snow all over! You can’t ride those motorbikes in this, she scoffed as she crossed her arms.

I sucked a breath in deeply and let it out in a rush before I attempted to change the subject. We still have a business that runs year-round.

I still think you should bring me one of those little piglets. I hear they make great pets. Smarter than a dog and everything, she said as she dug through her purse for something.

Grams. These aren’t pets. They’re full-size hogs for eating. You’re talking about those damn potbelly things. I shuddered because I thought they were the creepiest-looking things I’d ever seen.

Same thing. She waved my argument away. She’d found what she was looking for in her purse and flipped down the visor to use the mirror to apply her lipstick.

Nothing the same about it. A potbelly one weighs maybe one hundred to two-fifty. Farm pigs weigh up to nine hundred damn pounds. That’s a huge difference, I argued further.

Hmpf, she said but didn’t say anything more.

Besides, you can’t have pets in the retirement apartments, I added.

Well, Peggie Waters has a parakeet, and no one says anything.

Really? I shot her a deadpan glance before returning my eyes to the road.

The rest of the trip was filled with more random hints about me settling down and gossip to catch me up on my hometown. Not that I really cared, but I humored her with appropriate nodding and murmured replies.

Luke comes to see me more than you do, you know, she added in between gossip. I gave her a sidelong glance.

He lives in town, Grams. Of course you see him more than you see me. If you’d move down by me, you’d see me more, I argued. Luke, also known as Snow in his club, the Demented Sons, had been my best friend growing up.

"This is my home, Decker.