Breaker
Fiona Davenport
Contents
Breaker
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Epilogue
About the Author
Copyright © 2021 by Fiona Davenport
Cover designed by Elle Christensen
Edited by Editing4Indies
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Breaker
All it took was one look for Sebastian “Breaker” Ross to know that Ireland Foster was meant to be his. So when he saw another guy giving the cute rocker chick a hard time, Breaker stepped in…by pretending to be her boyfriend.
Ireland thought he was just playing the fake boyfriend to help her out since they’d never met before. But Breaker had every intention of turning the role into a permanent one. Something the other guy wasn’t too happy about.
1
Breaker
I studied the schematics for the bank, looking for the best way into the room that held the vault. They were extensive, and my inside man—or woman in this case—deserved a bigger cut of the loot for providing me with them.
She’d informed me of the date when this branch would be receiving a shipment of ten thousand brand new hundred-dollar bills to put into circulation. A cool million could set me up quite nicely for a while.
The security on the building was decent, although I'd handled their rent-a-cop with a swift fist to the face. By the time he came to, I’d be long gone. The rest of the break-in would be tricky to bypass, but I’d always been a sneaky motherfucker.
It was the reason I’d only been caught a few times. I’d started doing B&Es when I was fourteen—for the thrill of it. According to the psychiatrist they made me see in juvie, my “habit” stemmed from being bored because I was too smart. I commented that he clearly didn’t suffer from the same problem.
He’d been partly right, but he’d missed the most glaring reason for my “episodes of acting out.” I’d been trying to gain the attention of my parents, who’d checked out of my life as soon as I was old enough to be self-sufficient. Not that they’d been particularly attentive before that, but at least they’d made an effort to take care of my needs.
It had never worked, and when I was released from my second stint in juvie at eighteen, I came home to discover that they’d sold the house and moved. They hadn’t left a forwarding address, so I walked away from that part of my past.
My skills as a thief had come in handy after that, and I’d honed them over the years. I wasn’t too humble to admit that I was extremely fucking good at what I did.
So, it didn’t surprise my partner when I made it in and out of the vault—emptying a few safe deposit boxes for good measure—without tripping a single alarm or leaving anything that could lead the theft back to me.
I climbed into the stolen armored truck that carried the fake cash and drove out of the parking lot. Someone was waiting to take possession of the ill-gotten gains in the parking garage of an office building ten minutes away. On the way, I tapped my earpiece, unmuting it.
“Did I beat my record?” I asked Hack, who’d been whispering in my ear throughout the whole break-in. He’d been my eyes and had disabled some of the security measures remotely.
“Two minutes over,” he replied.
“Bullshit,” I retorted. “That was some of my best work.”
Hack snorted. “Fine. You beat your record by thirty seconds. I added the extra time as a handicap because this was too damn easy.”
“Fair,” I conceded. This had definitely been one of our easier jobs. The client wasn’t going to be happy with our report. “Who the hell convinced them to go with Hancock Security for the guards?”
“No fuckin’ clue. I’m starting to think we should add a new line to our contract.”
“A surcharge for stupid?”
“Exactly.”
I pulled into the garage and parked next to my hog. “I’ll send you my notes tonight. And you should probably tell the client that they have someone on the take.”
“You convinced her to help you?”
“Yup.” I hadn’t told Hack the bank manager had agreed, so we could test the multiple partners theory. Sometimes, a job couldn’t be done with a team who ran in sync, everyone aware of all the moving parts. But in cases like this one, it had been easier to complete the job while keeping a degree of separation, lowering the chances of being double-crossed.
Hack had been able to get his hands on the bank schematics, so he hadn’t thought twice about me having them. He just hadn’t known that I was using my inside source's much more thorough set.
“I’m guessing if they dig deeper into her, they’ll find she’s been skimming for months as well.”
“I’ll put it in the report. We’re meeting the client at our office tomorrow afternoon, so just get me those notes by the morning.”
“Will do. I’m gonna stop off at McClaren’s for a drink and some food before I head home.” I lived in the clubhouse on the Silver Saint’s compound, the MC I’d been a part of since I was twenty.
“You do that.” There was laughter in Hack’s voice, and I rolled my eyes, knowing what was coming next. “Maybe you’ll be able to get a bar bunny drunk enough to break your dry spell.”
“Fuck you,” I muttered as I opened the door to the truck and jumped to the ground
“No thanks, I have a sexy little thing to go home to for that.”
“Whipped,” I grunted before hanging up. I kept the fact that I was a little envious of his situation to myself. If my secret got out, every Silver Saints old lady would make it their mission to find me a woman. Shuddering at the prospect of all the blind dates and constant pestering, I stalked to my bike and straddled it. Yeah, I definitely needed a whiskey.
2
Ireland
Nothing was better than rocking out to my favorite songs in front of a cheering crowd. When we’d formed Chuffed Up, I’d thought we’d be lucky to play in public a few times and get some free drinks out of it. I never would’ve guessed I’d be able to support myself on my cut of what the band made. Well, when I supplemented it with piano and voice lessons.
We had a solid local following and played three to four nights a week at several different bars in the surrounding area. We didn’t get paid a heck of a lot for each gig, but the bookings were steady enough for me to afford a studio apartment. Which was darn lucky for me since my parents had told me I had to either go to college or move out of their house the day after I graduated from high school. They’d been outraged when I chose to use the years and years of piano lessons they’d provided by playing with a rock band. However, they’d allowed me to take my baby grand piano, which took up a good portion of my apartment and was my greatest treasure.
“Incoming,” Sally, our drummer, muttered.
McClaren’s was my favorite club to play at, except for one pesky problem. One of their bouncers had a thing for me...and he was headed my way.
“I don’t think that guy will ever catch a clue that you’re just not into him.” Michelle picked up her guitar and shook her head while she tightened one of the strings. The pitch had been a little low on D during our last set, messing up the rhythmic pulse in a couple of the songs we’d just played.
/> “Ya think?” Sara snorted, rolling her eyes as she put her bass guitar in the case where she kept it between sets. “He’s asked Ireland out every single time we’ve played here. It doesn’t matter how many times she turns him down; he keeps coming back for more.”
Sally pointed one of her drumsticks at me. “It’s because you’re too damn nice when you tell him no. Don’t smile to soften the blow tonight. And cross your arms over your chest so he can’t stare at your boobs. Men get distracted easily.”
“Saying no should be enough.” Michelle lifted her gaze from the string she was tuning to glare at Sally. “It’s not Ireland’s fault that the dude won’t listen.”
“Yeah, she shouldn’t have to do anything special to get the creep to stop perving on her every time we play here,” Sara agreed, lowering her voice as Scott climbed the steps up to the stage.
“Hey, Ireland.” His gaze drifted down the length of my body, lingering on my chest long enough that I wished I could get away with wearing a turtleneck on stage. Unfortunately, I’d sweat through the darn thing before we were even a quarter of the way through the show. “Great set.”
“Thanks.” I fanned myself with my hand. “Singing and playing piano is hella fun, but it’s thirsty work. I need to head over to the bar and grab a fresh water before we go back on.”
Scott stepped closer, and I flinched away when he reached out to swipe a lock of hair off my cheek. As usual, he didn’t take the hint to leave me alone. “I bet. You looked hot as fuck up here.”
“Yup, which is why I need some water.” Sally was muttering beneath her breath behind me. I knew that if I didn’t shut Scott down fast, she would get into it with him. “Thanks for coming to check on me. Talk to you later.”
Sally’s grumbling changed to laughter when I left Scott sputtering in disbelief as I hightailed it out of there. I headed straight for the bar and slid onto an empty stool while I waited for one of the bartenders to free up. The bar was packed tonight, and the alcohol was flowing steadily. I imagined money falling from the sky in my head because we took a cut of the bar’s take when we played at McClaren’s. So I was more than willing to be patient while the bartenders took care of customers. But Wendy spotted me as soon as I sat down and made her way over after a couple of minutes.
She grabbed a white rag to wash the bar top in front of me as she asked, “Hey, Ireland. What can I getcha?”
“Just a water, thanks.”
She twisted around to grab a bottle from the refrigerator behind her. Then she slid it across the bar toward me. “Are you sure you don’t want something stronger? You look like you could use it.”
“Only if you want to get this place shut down.” I flashed her a grin. “I still have another year to go before I turn twenty-one.”
She winked at me and whispered, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“Nah, I’m good with this.” I wiggled the bottle of water. “I wouldn’t want to ruin the next set by getting drunk.”
“One drink won’t hurt you.” She lifted a bottle of alcohol and shook it. “There’s barely any alcohol in a Campari and soda, and it’s super refreshing.”
I slid off my stool with a smile. “I just might take you up on that offer when I’m done for the night.”
“Yeah, and I bet that I don’t even need three guesses to come up with the reason.” Wendy’s gaze slid over my shoulder, and she grimaced. “The bouncers are supposed to be watching the crowd for any sign of trouble, but Scott doesn’t pay attention to anyone but you when you’re here. And not in a good way, if you know what I mean.”
“Unfortunately, I really do.” I straightened my spine, gearing myself up to get past Scott without giving him the chance to hit on me. “But at least I can avoid him when I’m on stage.”
“Only while you’re performing,” she muttered as I turned to make my way across the bar.
Scott was standing a few feet from the stage stairs closest to the bar. Since the bathroom was on the other side of the building, I changed direction to head that way instead. I quickened my pace, hoping he wouldn’t follow me, but my steps slowed when I spotted an insanely hot guy sitting by himself in one of the booths lining the back wall of the bar. My fingers itched to stroke through his thick, dark hair, and I had the bizarre urge to rub my cheek against the scruff on his handsome face. With how he was seated, I couldn’t see a lot of his body, but his chest and arms were all lean muscle, he had to be tall with how far his long legs extended under the table, and his eyes were a clear blue color that reminded me of the ocean.
I had a rule against picking up guys in bars—which was a big part of why I didn’t date. When I wasn’t at home, I was just about always practicing with the band or performing. I’d never been tempted to break it...until now.
I didn’t know anything about the man—except that he was most likely in a motorcycle club of some kind judging by the leather vest he was wearing—but I’d never reacted to anyone like this before. My knees were weak, butterflies swirled in my belly, and if I wasn’t mistaken, my panties were growing damp.
Tearing my gaze away from the mystery hottie, I hurried toward the bathroom. My original plan when I headed this way was just to pretend I needed to pop in there, but now it was really true. I couldn’t spend the next forty-five minutes on stage in front of a massive crowd with drenched panties. Not only would it be uncomfortable, but I would be mortified if I ended up with a wet spot on my jeans. And with my luck, Scott would jump to the wrong conclusion and assume that I was turned on by him. Blech.
3
Breaker
My whiskey had frozen halfway to my mouth when the band had gone on stage. There were a few members, but I only noticed one. I’d never seen anyone so fucking gorgeous in my entire life. My body stirred for the first time in a very long time.
She was of average height with a delicate frame that was just curvy enough in all the right places. Her face was heart-shaped with big hazel eyes, full, pink lips, and a tiny diamond stud in her nose. She wore bright, dramatic makeup, but it wasn’t overdone—just enough to stand out on stage. I had a feeling it fit her personality, just like the long, wavy hair with multiple shades of purple pulled up into a ponytail on the back of her head. A black tank top hugged her high, round tits and showed off more cleavage than I liked. Ripped jeans and motorcycle boots completed her outfit.
She wasn’t conventional and owned it, which I admired and found sexy as fuck. The rocker was badass from head to toe, and her body language screamed confidence. I had a feeling what you saw was what you got with her.
When my body came to life as soon as I spotted her, I was surprised. It had been because I hadn’t felt desire for a woman in a long time, not because she wasn’t my type. If someone had asked me even five minutes before, I would have told them I didn’t even have a type. Now, it was clear to me that this woman was exactly my type.
She’d taken her place behind a keyboard when the band had begun to play. They were damn good, but I was laser-focused on my girl. The way she moved, the expressions on her face, her incredible voice, they all built the fire inside me. There was no doubt in my mind that the cute rocker chick was meant to be mine.
After the set, my eyes had followed her, and I scowled when some asshole went up onto the stage to talk to her. My hands balled into fists when he reached out and touched her face, but part of me cheered when she recoiled.
I watched her extract herself from the situation, and my eyes narrowed at the annoyance that flashed on the man’s face. I didn’t like the way his gaze followed her ass, either. He went back to stand by an exit, and I realized he was a club bouncer, which meant she probably had to fend him off constantly whenever she played here. That thought darkened my mood, and if she hadn’t distracted me, I might have gone over and blackened both his eyes for staring at my girl’s curves.
She grabbed a water at the bar, then headed in the direction of the ladies’ room, walking directly past me. When she was in front of my table, her
head turned in my direction, and our eyes met. Electricity cracked in the air around us, and I felt a sense of satisfaction when lust clouded her beautiful hazel orbs.
She looked a little shell-shocked, and I didn’t want to scare her off, so I remained in my seat but didn’t break our stare down. After a minute, she tore her eyes away and hurried to the bathroom. When she reemerged, she rushed toward the stage but peeked at me a few times, her pink lips curved up at the corners. Unable to help myself, I winked at her and grinned at the twin spots of pink that bloomed on her cheeks.
The band played another fantastic set, and when they were done, they began to pack up their equipment. I spied that same douche making a beeline for the stage with determined features. Obviously, I needed to step in and shut that shit down.
I exited the booth and threw cash on the table for the tip before making my way over to the stairs. My girl was clearly procrastinating and kept looking toward the bouncer as if she were hoping he would give up and leave. She didn’t seem to know her own appeal, which just made her even more adorable.
I reached the stage just as her shoulders dropped in resignation, and she bent to pick up the case holding her keyboard. The asshole was blocking the steps, so I jumped easily onto the platform. All four bandmates looked at me in stunned silence, but only my rocker had my attention. She straightened, and her pretty mouth formed a little O. I shoved away the filthy images her shiny, pink lips inspired.
Swaggering right up to her, I put my arms around her, each hand grabbing a handful of her ass to haul her up against me. “Hey, baby,” I said loud enough for the asshole to hear before lowering my head and capturing her mouth in a kiss.
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