NashPiper Stone
Contents
Prologue
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
Afterword
Books of the Montana Bad Boys Series
Books of the Alpha Beasts Series
Books of the Club Darkness Series
Books of the Dangerous Business Series
Books of the Mafia Masters Series
More Stormy Night Books by Piper Stone
Piper Stone Links
Copyright © 2021 by Stormy Night Publications and Piper Stone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Stone, Piper
Nash
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by Shutterstock/Mike Orlov and iStock/mrod
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Prologue
Brothers in arms.
Soldiers.
Cowboys and Marines.
We’d been called so many things.
Heroes. Monsters. Sinners and saints.
Above all we were men honoring our country even while our pasts continued to haunt us.
Some said we could never return, that we were damaged beyond redemption.
Others would stop at nothing to prevent us from doing so.
But we were determined to protect those we loved.
Six men determined to right the wrongs from our past.
Six men prepared to do what it took.
No matter the cost.
Then…
Chapter 1
Reaper
“You’re nothing but a killer, a monster. You’re going to burn in hell.”
The words had remained with me for months, the statement made by an asshole Marine who’d made the mistake of getting in my face.
He’d paid the price with a smashed nose and a broken arm.
And I’d enjoyed every second of his pain.
I’d never claimed I was a good man, nor had I performed my duties without knowledge that insurgents would die by my hands. I just hadn’t anticipated that one of our own would lose his life.
Especially not someone I cared about.
Sighing, I took a deep whiff of the cold mountain air, grateful I’d had the forethought to purchase the cabin a few years before. Maybe I’d had some kind of fucking premonition that I needed a place to retreat to in order to get my shit together.
Like that was going to happen.
Montana.
It had once been home long before several grueling albeit amazing years. Years spent protecting our country as well as freedom. Years spent protecting those who didn’t have a chance of doing so themselves.
And several years working and serving alongside five men I’d known since junior high.
Hell, I missed the old days living in ugly barracks, enduring the strict regimen and seriously bad food.
I actually allowed myself to smile as the memories rushed in, something I’d been trying to avoid since returning to Missoula.
After taking another deep breath, I swung the ax, smashing the blade down on the solid piece of oak. The cracking sound was the only music I wanted to hear at this point. After splitting several pieces, I rubbed my arm across my forehead. I could tell by the clouds that a snowstorm was rolling in, the Montana mountains due for a doozy. I chuckled at the thought. I had everything I needed to survive the rest of the winter. Then I’d likely be forced to face society.
I hadn’t even told my buddies that I’d arrived a little over a week before. In truth, I didn’t really have anything to say to them. I knew what they’d tell me. It was time to move on, something our fallen buddy would have wanted. But I didn’t have the same drive I once had. Still, I had to believe they weren’t faring any better than I was. We’d been through a hell of an ordeal and I doubted anyone wanted to relive the horrible experience anytime soon.
I sure as shit didn’t.
All I wanted was to be alone. Period.
After splitting several additional pieces of wood, I yanked them into my arms, moving toward the woodshed. What I’d managed to cut should keep me warm for a few nights anyway. That is, if the bourbon or scotch didn’t do the trick.
Rounding the corner, I stopped short, slowly lowering the wood to the ground and reaching for my weapon. It didn’t matter I was in the middle of the freaking mountains, a solid fifteen miles from anyone else, there was always a chance that assholes could attempt to take what belonged to me. That shit wasn’t going to happen.
I bent down, studying the solid footprints in the snow. While the impressions were definitely from a pair of boots, the size was somewhat smaller than a typical beast of a male. Then again, maybe I was used to seeing my size thirteen boot. I cocked my head, eyeing exactly where the asshole had gone. When I inched closer to the door to the woodshed, I released the safety on the Glock, holding it in front of me with two hands.
Now I was pissed.
“You have exactly five seconds to come out with your hands up or I will shoot and trust me, I’m damn good at what I do.”
I waited for what I considered an obligatory ten before starting to count.
“Five.”
There were no sounds, no sudden movement.
“Four.”
Now I heard some kind of shuffling.
“Three.”
I was almost positive I caught the sound of a groan.
“Two.”
I’d singlehandedly taken out several men at once, including killing the bastards who’d attempted to break into our compound. I’d crawled through mud ten inches deep, holding that position for a full two hours before getting the perfect shot. Hell, I’d even tangled with a damn alligator before blasting his brains out.
It was all about my training. I wasn’t known as the Reaper for nothing.
What I hadn’t anticipated was the intruder charging the door, bursting through at full speed then managing to race around me. What. The. Fuck?
The force used on the door tossed me backwards. I hit the snow with a hard thud, my gun knocked out of
