Tek Cain & Jamie Ryan work at the Guards of Folsom BDSM club. After two years on the run from their old motorcycle club and the Feds, Tek & Jamie are finally able to relax and enjoy their new life in New York City. But the past won’t stay buried, and when the MC resurfaces, it’s Jamie who pays the price. Tek and the rest of the members at the Guards of Folsom must work together to get back one of their own.
In this, the final installment in the Guards of Folsom series, everyone must come together, bound as one in their quest to find Jamie and bring him home once and for all.
Guards of Folsom: Book Five
TEK’S NAME, his existence, was born of blood and violence—a daily reminder of the horrific drive-by that had caused his mother to go into early labor and taken his father’s life. That vicious event had brought him into the world, and it had tied him inexplicably, inexorably, irrevocably to Jamie. Even then Jamie had been there. In a bassinet next to him in that hospital nursery.
For the two of them, there had never been any other option besides cradle to grave.
It was why they’d had no choice but to run so many years ago. To fake their deaths, leave the West Coast behind, and start anew in one of the biggest, most anonymous cities in the world. He and Jamie had fled their shared past, but they could never be completely free of it. Going witpro meant going rat, and neither of them could have done that to their club. So they did their best to just disappear—putting a continent between the two of them and their old lives.
Three thousand miles didn’t feel anywhere near enough at this moment.
They found us.
Tek drove the cycle harder, pushing the engine into a determined, vengeful roar. His cell felt like lead in his jacket pocket, that cryptic text from Jamie banging around in his head, kicking up his adrenaline, each heartbeat and growling vibration of the powerful cycle alighting his every nerve. Tek was afraid, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt real fear.
You shouldn’t have left him alone.
Tek snarled, pushed the bike harder. No matter how many years he was removed from the kid who had nearly lost his soul to protect the motorcycle club, he could go back to that darkness when he needed it. And right then—unsure of just how bad off Jamie was, but feeling, knowing, that Jamie wasn’t okay—Tek let the pain and anger of remembered wrongs take him over and blacken his vision into dangerously honed focus.
If they were using any of his black poly ropes or suspension devices to cause Jamie any pain, they wouldn’t survive the night.
Tek skidded to a halt inside the parking garage next to the elevator, tossing the bike aside. He stabbed the button to call the car, but when it didn’t immediately arrive, he shoved through the door to the stairwell. He took the steps two at a time, mindless, his only thought, need, was to get to Jamie. How could he have been so stupid? So careless? He knew better than to ever leave Jamie alone.
It’s all my fault. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Tek pushed himself harder, ignoring the burn in his muscles and in his chest, one flight of stairs after another, cursing the limitations of his body. He didn’t know who they were, the club or the Feds. What he did know was whoever it was who had Jamie would pay dearly.
At the door to the fifth floor, Tek forced himself to slow, an almost impossible feat as his mind ran through worst-case scenarios. Adrenaline surged, demanding he act, but getting himself killed before he had the chance to save Jamie would be insanity. Cautiously he pushed open the door and moved into the deserted hallway. Glock in hand, finger hovering over the trigger, he could tell from his vantage point the door to their apartment was slightly ajar. Jamie would never leave it open or unlocked. The dread spread like poisonous vines, wrapping around his chest and throat, threatening to rob him of breath. Step by cautious step, he pushed down his fear, slowed his breathing, and clamped down on his shaking muscles. He let the cold dark place within him rise up, surround him until he was enveloped within its folds.
Before entering his place, he stopped and strained to listen for any sounds from within, but it was eerily silent. Weapon at the ready and using the doorjamb as a shield, Tek pushed the door open slowly, scanning wildly for any signs of danger.
The coffee table was crushed into several pieces of splintered wood, a lamp was smashed, and papers and knickknacks were thrown about the room, but it was devoid of anyone. The kitchen area showed the same disarray—overturned stools, broken dishes—not even their sleeping area was spared from the carnage. One hell of a battle had taken place; the only thing keeping Tek sane and focused was the lack of blood or a broken body.
Satisfied he wouldn’t be ambushed, Tek quietly eased the door closed behind him and set the deadbolt before moving to the last place to look—the bathroom. Heavy curtains covered the windows, keeping the room in nearly complete darkness. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but at least the covered windows would protect him from a possible attack from the next building over. He listened for sounds from within the bathroom, but the only thing he heard was the rapid beating of his own heart. Hand on the knob, Tek took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
Please don’t let him be dead.
The bathroom was dark and empty. Tek flipped on the light and fell to his knees, losing the fight against the tendrils of dread. The note taped to the mirror left no doubt as to who had Jamie. We’ll be in touch, followed by a red eight. Crimson VIII had found them and now Jamie was in the hands of that sadistic fucker Rocco.
The air rushed back into Tek’s lungs as the rage within him began to boil and spewed from him in the form of an animalistic howl. It echoed off the walls of the small room, almost shaking them.
Tek continued to cry out until his throat was raw and no sound came out. His head slumped forward and he breathed raggedly. This was his fault. He’d left Jamie alone and now they had him.
“Oh fuck! They have my Jamie,” Tek groaned, fighting back the sobs that threatened to choke him.
Tek pushed himself to his feet. “Goddamn you, think!” He pounded his fist against his stupid skull. He’d broken his promise, failed Jamie.
He ripped the note from the mirror and crushed it in his fist, then made himself a vow. Soon it would be Rocco’s throat beneath the strength of his hands. He wanted to watch the life drain from the man’s eyes, the memory of Tek’s face accompanying him on his journey to hell.
Review by Cat Clontz
The series has come to an end, and this was a lovely goodbye to some beloved characters!
Tek and Jamie have been hiding, but those days are over. Their MC club has tracked them down, and the leader, Rocco, is out for blood – and the return of the funds taken by the two when they fled, plus interest. Accustomed to always being the one looking out for the pair, Tek is stunned by the circling of the wagons and the support received by the Guards. Rescuing Jamie won’t be a solo event.
Surprisingly, the drama of the kidnapping was relatively short, and I was left feeling a bit adrift. However, the two main characters then spend the remainder of the book working on themselves and their relationship, providing a great story. Struggling to overcome their pasts, learning to deal with their present, and deciding how to forge a future are penned in a display that clearly shows the flaws of the characters as well as the strengths.
Tek’s struggles to reincorporate the light BDSM elements of their intimacy, an aspect that is far from the harder core of previous novels, are brilliantly written. Added to this are the frequent interactions with the characters from the previous books, making the experience much richer. The chemistry and sexy times of the pair are smoking hot, and the conclusion to the novel is beautiful. I will miss this series – and will certainly be rereading it!
Note: This is the second half of Tek and Jamie’s story, and as such it does not particularly work as a standalone novel. The first half, Roped, provides a lot of their background, and it is necessary to read this first to really understand this installment.
Rating: 4.5 Stars
Meet Jo Peterson
SJD Peterson, better known as Jo, hails from Michigan. Not the best place to live for someone who hates the cold and snow. When not reading or writing, Jo can be found close to the heater checking out NHL stats and watching the Red Wings kick a little butt. Can’t cook, misses the clothes hamper nine out of ten tries, but is handy with power tools.
Publisher and Distributor of Gay Romance Novels, Short Stories, and eBooks Publisher and Distributor of Gay Romance Novels, Short Stories, and eBooks.