When Gramps got sick, I moved back in with him, staying by his side until his frail body eventually gave out. By then I had my own website and, although I still deliver the odd thing personally, most of my stuff is shipped online. There are even a couple of shops in the neighboring towns that have started stocking my goodies.
This is how I accidentally met my furry friend beside me. I have, as a general rule, no sense of direction and without the use of GPS, I’m pretty sure I would have ended up in the wrong state a time or two. I was making a delivery to a cute little shop that had opened in Neavsham, which is a twenty-minute drive from where I used to live, when I got turned around and my GPS decided to have a meltdown on me. Even with my lack of direction, I still managed to figure out pretty quickly that four lefts had me turning in a circle. After a fair bit of cursing, I had pulled over next to a large industrial building that was partially hidden by trees, to text Megan, the shop’s owner, when I became aware of a dog whining. I got out of my truck and followed the noise until I came upon a huge white and gray huskie on the other side of a six-foot chain-link fence. He heard my approach and growled at me a little, not in an I’m-going-to-rip-your-arm-off kind of way, more in a back-off-and-leave-me alone-I’m-having-a-shitty-day kind of way. I sat on the grass on my side of the fence, pulled some beef jerky out of my pocket (don’t judge) and poked a piece through the fence for him. He whined a little but wandered over, scooped up the jerky, and lay down right in front of me. In a moment of bravery or stupidity, I stuck my fingers through the fence and started stroking his beautiful coat until his tongue lolled out and he was panting. That day I fell a little bit in love with him and anytime I was in the area making deliveries, I came to visit.
That’s how I happened to witness a tall wiry man with a pockmarked face and long greasy black hair kick the shit out of the poor dog when he hadn’t respond fast enough to the asshole’s commands. I felt my blood boil beneath my skin. No way was I going to leave him there to be subjected to that kind of treatment. I made my delivery to Megan’s and then asked her if I could leave my truck there for a little while. She kindly agreed, so I pulled wire cutters and old gloves from the toolkit in the cargo bed, courtesy of my brothers, and retraced my steps on foot to save my furry friend. It was getting late by the time I got there but he was waiting by the fence, sitting in the humid evening heat when I returned, like he knew I was coming for him, and my heart melted a little more. Using the cutters, I made an opening in the fence big enough for him to get through without scraping himself on any sharp edges, when I heard a shout from the side of the building. I dropped the cutters, urged the dog through the fence, and then I took off like a shot through the woods with my escaped prisoner.
Which brings me to now—huffing, puffing, and stumbling over the uneven terrain as I run blindly through the woods in ballet flats. Not my finest hour, for sure. Out of nowhere, I find myself wrapped up in leather-encased arms and pulled back hard against someone’s chest. The dog snarls ferociously at my captor but calms when the voice behind me, with a Texas drawl, tells him to settle.
I wiggle and kick my legs, trying to gain some leverage, but with my arms pinned to my sides, my movements are limited.
“Settle down, sugar,” the deep voice rasps out.
His arms are firm, his grip strong, but he isn’t hurting me. He isn’t using more force than necessary and he isn’t trying to grope me in the process, so I calm myself down and take stock of the situation. I have always been able to read people, ever since I was a kid, and something is telling me this guy isn’t going to hurt me. He loosens his grip as he feels me relax and leans down to speak softly into my ear.
“Want to tell me why you’re stealing our dog?”
I’m about to answer him when the pockmarked asshole who started this whole thing by kicking the dog comes running toward us. He must have circled around and come from the other direction.
“You fucking cunt,” he shouts. He surprises the shit out of me and the biker at my back by swinging his arm out and slapping me across the face with the back of his hand.
Now, let me tell you, that shit hurts like a bitch. Before I can even get my bearings, I find myself facing the burning deck of cards logo on the back of biker man’s jacket as he places me behind him. Before either of us can say or do anything else, though, my furry friend is on the pockmarked biker, dragging him to the ground, pinning him with his teeth in his shoulder and growling a warning that if he moves, he’s dead.
I smile as my face throbs, taking a small amount of satisfaction from the fact that the dog now has the upper hand. The biker that grabbed me calls him off, unfortunately.
“King, heal,” he commands.
King, huh? Great name. It suits him. Oh, right, focus.
King obeys immediately, clearly trained and familiar with my pseudo protector.
Biker dude steps forward, then bends down and, I kid you not, he picks up the pockmarked asshole around the throat like he weighs nothing. If I wasn’t so busy looking for a way out of this mess, I would be totally impressed. Okay, so I’m still a little bit impressed.
“Do you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” he growls—the biker, not the dog.
“That bitch stole our dog,” the idiot with the hand wrapped around his throat manages to reply, which is actually quite impressive as his face is turning an alarming shade of purple.
“You never put your hands on a woman in anger, you piece of shit,” my biker tells him. He pulls back his right arm while still holding with his left and sucker punches the guy in the face. The pockmarked ass drops to the ground like a sack of bricks and doesn’t get back up.
Biker man then turns to me and, holy shitting hell, this man is pretty, although I probably wouldn’t say that to his face. He looks a little like Chris Hemsworth with his blond hair in a man bun, his faded denim eyes, and chiseled jaw covered in day-old stubble. He’s taller than me, but then, everyone is, but at around six feet two he towers over me and he’s built in a way that screams “I work out.” I didn’t even know men this gorgeous existed in real life. I’m tempted to pinch him just to make sure I’m not dreaming. He ignores me checking him out and gently runs his thumb over my cheekbone, causing me to wince and him to frown.
“Come on, let's get you to the compound and get you cleaned up.” He grabs my hand and starts pulling me back through the woods with King following behind us. I’m so busy marveling at how hands that size could be so gentle, it takes a while for his words to penetrate my thick skull.
“Hey, um, yeah, I’m not going anywhere with you. Thanks for sticking up for me back there, but I’m going to just go now.” I pull my hand free and manage to take a couple of steps away from him before I find myself upside down and over his shoulder.
“Hey, put me down.”
He slaps my ass, hard enough to make it sting, effectively stilling my movements. “Settle down. I don’t want to drop you and cause any more damage to that pretty face of yours. You stole our dog, sugar, I can’t just let you go. Besides, you need to tell my president what just went down.”
We walk, well, he walks, I bounce, for what seems like forever but is probably closer to five minutes, while I mentally berate myself for getting trapped in this situation to begin with. We end up at a huge gated entrance to what I’m assuming is their compound. It’s hard to see much from my upside down angle. He slides me down his body and shouts over my shoulder to the guards, I’m guessing, to open the gates. I’m thinking this is a very bad idea and I can tell he has noticed my train of thought because he places both hands gently on either side of my face.
“Nobody is going to hurt you in here, sugar. Your punishment will more than likely be a favor of some sort.”
My eyes must be the size of my head as I guess what kind of favors they could ask of me. He takes one of my hands in his and tugs us toward the door.
“Not what you’re thinking, sugar. Nobody here would ever put their hands on you without your
permission, okay?”
I nod because what else can I say? Despite my small stature, I’m quite good at defending myself but unarmed and in a compound filled with god knows how many bikers, I’d be screwed. I just hope that doesn’t mean literally.
Also by Candice Wright
THE UNDERESTIMATED SERIES
The Queen of Carnage: An Underestimated Novel Book One
https://books2read.com/u/47EMrj
THE INHERITANCE SERIES
Rewriting Yesterday
https://books2read.com/u/3JVj6v
In this Moment
https://books2read.com/u/bxvnJd
The Promise of Tomorrow
https://books2read.com/u/bowEy1
THE FOUR HORSEWOMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE SERIES
The Pures
https://books2read.com/u/mdGl1y
THE PHOENIX PROJECT DUET
From the Ashes: The Phoenix Project Book One
https://books2read.com/u/bO65pN
Acknowledgments
Jodie-Leigh Plowman – Designer extraordinaire. Thank you for my beautiful cover.
Tanya Oemig – My incredible editor - AKA miracle worker, who goes above and beyond.
Missy Stewart - Proofreader and lifesaver.
Gina Wynn - Formatting Queen.
Sosha Ann – My amazing PA and friend. You are one of the strongest people I know, and I adore you.
Aspen Marks, AC Wilds and Isobelle Carmichael – My girl squad. I’m blessed to have such amazing, strong and talented women in my life.
Julie Melton, Rachel Bowen, Sue Ryan - My Beta Angels. You ladies are the bee’s knees. I will never be able to tell you how much I love and appreciate everything you do for me.
Thais Neves – There isn’t enough words in the dictionary to express my gratitude for everything you do for me.
My readers – You guys are everything to me. I am in awe of the love and support I have received. Thanks for taking a chance on me and on each of the books that I write.
Remember, If you enjoy it, please leave a review.
About the Author
Candice is a romance writer who lives in the UK with her long-suffering partner and her three slightly unhinged children. As an avid reader herself, you will often find her curled up with a book from one of her favourite authors, drinking her body weight in coffee. If you would like to find out more, here are her stalker links:
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The Princess of Chaos Page 27
