Pop Goes The Biker: Turf Wars #3 Read online

  POP GOES THE BIKER

  BELLA JEWEL 2021

  Also by Bella Jewel

  Iron Fury MC

  Darkest Hour

  Sassy Little Thing

  Our Final Tale

  Whiskey Burning

  Hushed Torment

  Me, please.

  Jokers' Wrath MC

  Melancholy

  Anguish

  Desolation

  Precarious

  Jokers' Wrath Boxed Set

  Bestie

  Valiant

  King's Descendants MC

  Alarick

  Flick

  Mykel

  Kendric

  Cohen

  Bohdi

  MC Sinners

  Hell's Knights

  MC Sinners Next Generation

  Manacle

  Drifter

  Rumblin' Knights

  Knights Rising

  Knights Fury

  Knights Lady

  Knights Burden

  The MC Sinners Series

  Knights' Sinner

  Heaven's Sinners

  Turf Wars

  Biker Schmiker

  Heart-On

  Pop Goes The Biker

  Standalone

  Number Thirteen

  Wingman (Woman)

  'Til Death

  'Til Death Pt 2

  'Til Death Boxed Set

  Flawed Heart

  Flawed Love

  How To Fall In Love

  Pandemonium

  Fleeting Moments

  Amore - Boxed Set

  Wild Child

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Also By Bella Jewel

  DEDICATION

  ~*Pop Goes The Biker*~

  Pop Goes The Biker | Copyright © 2021 Bella Jewel

  ~*ACKNOWLEDGMENTS*~

  PROLOGUE

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26 | Two months later

  Meanwhile, a few blocks down, in a very large house with a very rich man and his beautiful daughter...and the other one. The bad daughter. The naughty daughter. | Oh. Wait. That’s me.

  TO BE CONTINUED....

  Also By Bella Jewel

  DEDICATION

  To Lance

  For believing in me and kicking my ass to keep writing even when I didn’t want to.

  For always making me laugh, even if I occasionally snort.

  For loving me harder than I’ve ever been loved.

  For being the best damn thing to ever happen to me.

  This is for you.

  It’s always for you.

  ~*Pop Goes The Biker*~

  All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without prior written permission of the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  Pop Goes The Biker

  Copyright © 2021 Bella Jewel

  POP GOES THE BIKER is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book either are from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, establishments, events, or location is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ~*ACKNOWLEDGMENTS*~

  As always, my heartfelt thanks to every single blogger, reader and author that has supported my journey. From reading my books, to sharing them, to raving about them, to being there for me. Thank you. My career would be nothing without any of you.

  A massive thanks to the team at Valentine PR for taking me on, especially to Kim and Nina for helping me with this release and this new series. I am looking forward to working with you all on this book and future books, and I’m incredibly grateful for the hard work you all do.

  A massive thanks to Ben Ellis from Tall Story Designs for this gorgeous cover. You’re the easiest, most efficient person I’ve ever worked with. You make my covers absolutely gorgeous every single time. I couldn’t do it without you.

  To my favorite editor Wendi from Ready, set, edit, for always coming through for me on my edits, whenever I need them. You’re amazing and I’m so thankful to you. You’re super easy to work with and so nice. I’m glad to team up with you for these things.

  And of course, to my admin, MJ, for ALWAYS keeping my page running beautifully. I couldn’t do it without you, girly. I love your teasers and your passion; thank you for taking the time out of your life to help this poor girl keep everything running.

  And, last but certainly not least, to my loyal readers. To each and every one of you that picks up my books and give me a chance. To the reviews you write, good or bad. To the time you take to make me a better person. You make this real for me; never stop giving such love and passion. You make our journey so amazing.

  PROLOGUE

  My screams echo through the warehouse as a giant rat scurries across the floor, its long tail and weedy body rushing as it gains on me, coming right toward me with those beady eyes and long front teeth. I can’t move fast enough—it’s like my body won’t do what I’m telling it to, which is get the hell out of there. My screams turn into shrieks as I try to get up on top of the couch before the rat reaches me.

  Just as I reach the very top of the couch, popcorn all over the floor, my soda tipped onto the material, the rat stops. It stops and stares up at me, then, oh then, it takes a piece of my delicious, buttered popcorn and starts nibbling on it. Eating it like the ballsy little shit it is, staring at me as it crunches into my snack, my treat. Evil. Pure evil.

  “Scat!” I growl, waving my arms around. “That’s my popcorn, you little asshole.”

  It just keeps looking at me, unbothered by my show.

  It finishes one piece and picks up another.

  God.

  No.

  It’s not going to leave. It’s going to stay here forever, until every last puff is gone and there are nothing but crumbs left in its wake.

  “Go home. Go back to your family.”

  Speaking of family, a moment later, two other rats appear from god knows where, and join their little friend in a late night feast. My heart is racing, hands shaking, body tense. I hate rats, I hate them with a passion. Mostly because I’m utterly terrified of them. I just moved into this run-down piece of crap warehouse and now I find out it’s infested with rats. Dirty ass rats with nowhere to be but in my space.

  I reach for my phone that’s resting on the couch where I was just sitting, enjoying a peaceful night to myself. Something I haven’t had in quite some time. I pick it up, and the rat makes a squeaking noise when I do. “Be calm, devil rat. I’m just getting my phone so I can call someone to come and shoot you.”

  It squeaks again.

  “Yes, that’s right. They’re going to take that
little rat head right off.”

  It continues nibbling, making some weird hissing noise when its friend gets a little too close and tries to snatch its popcorn.

  God damned demon.

  I dial Beckett.

  “What the fuck are you callin’ me at this time of the night for?”

  His husky voice is sleepy, and I have no doubt I just woke him from his slumber. Well, too damned bad. That club wants to leave me out here, alone, then they’re going to have to put up with my calls. I know someone is on guard outside, making sure I’m safe, but I don’t know who that person is and I certainly don’t have their phone number. They sit at the end of the driveway; from there, they won’t even hear my screams.

  Beckett is the one.

  “There are rats,” I breathe, my voice shaky. “They’re ganging up on me and I’m stuck on the sofa. I can’t get down. They’re all around.”

  “Fuck me. You are a fuckin’ badass bitch that takes on cartels but you’re scared of a god damned rat?”

  “Do you have any idea the kind of diseases these things carry? Have you seen their teeth? I can’t risk my life like that.”

  Beckett growls. “I could give two fucks about your rat problem, or you. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  “Beckett,” I warn, my voice icy. “If you hang up the phone on me, I swear to god I’ll go and take all the money we’re making and burn it. Do you hear me? I will burn it while dancing around its smoldering ashes laughing hysterically. Do you want that? Do you?”

  “Why the fuck are you so dramatic? Fuck. I’ll call Hugh, he’s on watch. He can come chase the damned rats away.”

  “That would be appreciated.”

  “Don’t call me in the middle of the night again unless someone is fuckin’ murderin’ you. Even then, give it a good ten minutes to make sure they’re mostly done so by the time I get there, it’s too fuckin’ late.”

  “Wow,” I say, brows raised. “You’re something else.”

  “Don’t call me again.”

  He hangs up the phone, and I give it a sarcastic expression before tossing it back onto the couch. This makes one of the rats hiss at me.

  “Don’t you hiss at me, you little buck-toothed, disease-ridden asshole. You just wait, something is coming for you. Something big. Hopefully a .22 but I’ll accept anything.”

  Five minutes later, Hugh walks into the warehouse. He doesn’t have a gun in his hand, which is a bit of a let down, but he does take a look at me on the couch and then down at my rat friends and smirks. “Well, they’re friendly, aren’t they?”

  “That’s not funny,” I point out. “I’d much rather they’re scared.”

  “It’s their home you’re invading, they’re not worried about you.”

  Nice.

  Hugh walks over and stomps his feet. The rats scurry off, disappearing behind furniture and old boxes.

  “Seriously?” I cry, throwing my hands up. “Now they’re just hiding until you’re gone again. I have to sleep in here, Hugh. I can’t be snoozing with a rat.”

  “No gettin’ rid of them tonight, sorry. We’ll need traps and they’re not going to be available until tomorrow. You’ll just have to get through it.”

  “They could be in my room,” I whisper-hiss.

  “I’ll check.”

  He walks off into my room and, after a few minutes, he comes out. “It’s clear, keep the door locked and stuff something under it. You’ll be fine.”

  I shake my head. “I will not be fine. You can’t be serious. Can’t you shoot them?”

  “I’m not wastin’ rounds on rats. You’ll be fine. Go to sleep.”

  He turns and walks out.

  Just like that.

  Leaving me with my rat family.

  Damn this club.

  Damn them all.

  1

  “This is costin’ me a fuckin’ fortune, you better be onto somethin’ here,” Riggs mutters, watching as I soak thousands of dollar bills in a special solution I have mastered to remove the patterns and symbols off them.

  “Normal paper has the wrong consistency,” I say, squinting as I make sure they’re being handled very carefully. “You can’t pass off fake money with shitty paper, the second someone touches it, it’ll be noticeable. You have to make sure it’s the right paper and the way to do that is to use actual money. Nothing more like money ... than money.”

  “And the big fuckin’ printer that cost me more than I’m even willing to say out loud?”

  I glance at him. “The thing is, there are so many systems in place now for detecting counterfeit money. You can’t be cheap about it. If you’re busted, it’ll come crashing down. You need the best of the best; I have spent years studying this and making money to figure out how it’s done. I have read every article, watched every single thing there is to know about it and tried it out myself. You want to sell this shit, it needs to be perfect.”

  “Why are you usin’ old money?”

  “Because,” I say, carefully removing the paper from my dissolving solution, “new money has special things in place that can’t be replicated. Old money doesn’t have as many obstacles to get around and is still widely accepted. For that purpose alone, I use it.”

  Riggs stares at me, his eyes narrowed. “You’re smarter than you fuckin’ act, you know that?”

  I grin. “That’s the point. People always assume, and those assumptions are what get them stomped on.”

  “Well, keep it up and we won’t have any more problems.”

  “I don’t have much choice,” I say, meeting his gaze. “You’re all keeping me hostage.”

  “You rather the cartel keep you hostage? Because you sure as shit pissed them off. It would be just as easy for me to toss you out there to them then to bring trouble to my club. You should think yourself lucky.”

  I purse my lips. “You make a valid point. Which bodes the question, why have me here if it’s so much risk to you?”

  “Can’t live if you’re not takin’ risks. I figure what you’re bringin’ to us far outweighs what could happen.”

  Hmmm, still doesn’t seem like a good enough reason. They must really need this money, otherwise why would you bother?

  “Do you think I’m actually safe out here?” I ask, bringing a large sheet of now cleaned paper out of the mixture. “I mean, if they know I’m with the club all it’ll take is for them to follow you.”

  “We’ve taken care of it. As far as they know you did a runner and we’re lookin’ for you, too. They won’t be suspicious unless you give them a reason to be. They get hold of you, though, and you’re in some deep shit I’m not goin’ to pull you out of.”

  I frown at him. “It’s not like I went out of my way to steal their god damned cash. You could have just given it back to them.”

  “Beside the point now, they’re makin’ a show of it. Can’t let anyone see that they’re here to be messed around with. They don’t care about your reasoning, lady. They care about showin’ you who’s boss.”

  I roll my eyes. “Men. Doesn’t matter how powerful y’all are, you are constantly working to see who has the biggest dick.”

  Riggs glares at me, then turns and walks away without another word.

  “Nice chat,” I murmur to myself.

  I continue working, wondering where the hell Beckett is. He’s supposed to be here “watching” me but the man hasn’t been around for the last two days. I’m here working my ass off alone. I could be doing it all wrong, pocketing it, anything I like. Riggs came by, but other than that, there has only been a man on guard duties and that’s it.

  I tell you, I would kill for a pizza right now but getting past these guys is next to impossible and they refuse to bring me any luxuries because I “stole” from them and they don’t “trust” me. Whatever, I say. I’m doing them a damned favor, the least they could do is bring a girl some cheesy crust pizza.

  Two hours pass and, finally, Beckett shows his face, walking into the warehouse like he owns
the place. If I didn’t know how toxic dick strapped to a man that looks like him was, I would be climbing him like a god damned tree. Girl has needs, and he would most certainly fulfill them. He has the body of a god and a face to match. The man is gorgeous, and, sadly, he knows it.

  He’s the walking image of Thor, only he has these gorgeous brown eyes.

  Anyway.

  Focus, Poppy.

  “You done here for the day?” he asks me, voice gruff as he walks over. “I need to do some shit, and I can’t be babysittin’ you all afternoon.”

  “Wow,” I say. “Hello to you, too. How are you? How’s life treating you? I hope you’re well.”

  He glares at me. “Are you fuckin’ done or not?”

  “Are you this nice to all women, or am I just the lucky one?”

  “You’re not a fuckin’ woman. You’re the devil.”

  I grin. “That has to be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thanks, big guy.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ call me that. You done?”

  “No, sir.” I roll my eyes. “This is a long ass process and it’s going to take a lot of time.”

  “How the fuck did you do this on your own without all the equipment?”

  “Oh, I had equipment. It wasn’t as good as this stuff, but it did the job. I know people.”

  He shakes his head. “How much longer is this going to be?”

  “I told you, it’s a long process.”

  “I told you, I’ve got shit to do.”

  “Should have had me put down, then,” I say, squinting as the printer does its thing. “Would have been easier for you.”

  He mutters something under his breath.

  “What’s so important that you can’t babysit, as you so fondly like to call it,” I ask.

  “Got a fuckin’ date, if you must know.”

  I snort a laugh. “You’ve got a date?”

  He glares at me. “Yeah.”

  “Has she met you?”

  His glare deepens, the crease between his eyes turning into a deep line. “No, she fuckin’ hasn’t.”