The Hart Brothers Series Box Set (Including the bonus book Sabin: A Seven Novel): Freeing Her, Freeing Him, Kestrel, The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart, Sabin: A Seven Novel

by A. M. Hargrove

  “Jesus Christmas, Sabin, don’t you think we need to name her first?”

  I rub my face and stare at Serena as she holds our daughter. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Here.” She hands me the baby.

  “What am I supposed to do with her?”

  “Hold her. This is your bonding time.”

  My hands tremble as I take the bundle in my arms. She’s so small she can almost fit in my hand. As I look at her tiny face and see the patch of downy fuzz on her head, I’m completely smitten. She puts her teeny hand around my thumb and squeezes. I laugh.

  “What?”

  “Well, she’s inherited my Nyan’truan strength and she’s every bit as beautiful as her mother.”

  “So, what shall we name her?”

  “My mother’s name was Dreeanna. Would you mind if we named her that?”

  “I like that. Dreeanna it is.”

  As I look at the setting of our little family, it’s hard to believe how my life was so different only a short time ago. I guess in some weird way, I have Kor to thank. If he hadn’t put into motion what eventually turned out to be the way I met Serena, I never would be here now.

  “Serena, have I told you how much I love you?”

  “Yeah, about a dozen times in the last hour. I love you too, Sabin.”

  The End

  I hope you enjoyed reading about Sabin! When I wrote him into The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart, I loved him so much I knew he would earn his own novel. If you have followed my writing from the beginning, you know I’ve always had a thing for hot aliens. Going back to sci-fi was something I had been thinking about so Sabin and The Seven were the result. I hope you weren’t disappointed.

  If you enjoyed this box set, I would totally appreciate it if you could be so kind to take a few moments and write a brief review. Reviews are like gold to authors, so thank you in advance.

  If you would like to hear more about what’s going on in my world, please subscribe to my mailing list on my website at http://bit.ly/AMNLWP

  Read on for an excerpt from the first book in the West Brothers Series, From Ashes To Flames. These books can all be read as stand alone Novels.

  Excerpt — From Ashes To Flames

  Greydon

  * * *

  Susannah shoved the crying baby into my arms as our son protested the absence of his mother’s embrace. Gently cradling him, I kissed his head and rubbed my cheek against the downy fuzz on top. I loved the softness of it and couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the two of us—my scruffy beard and slightly calloused hands and his soft, velvety skin. Inhaling his scent, I smiled, loving his baby scent.

  “You sure you want to go? I mean isn’t this trip going to be tough on you.”

  A soft chuckle came from the closet, where she’d disappeared. “You’re the one who’s going to have it tough.”

  She was probably right. I’d be here with a four-month-old and our six-year-old daughter. It was a good thing my mother was coming to help. I was used to handling it with my daughter, but adding our four-month-old son would create a new spin on things.

  “True, but traveling so soon after maternity leave. I mean that’s quite a bit to take on.”

  She rushed out of the closet with her packed rolling bag and laughed. “Might as well get used to it. I did it after Kinsley. There’s no reason to think I can’t do it with Aaron too.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  She paused and gave me that look, the one with only one brow raised. I’d always wondered how she managed that. “Well?”

  “I was only thinking that you’re jumping in too fast.”

  “Come on, Grey. You know me better than that. I was off for twelve weeks and have been back for a month now. This is the first trip I’ll be taking. I usually travel once a week.”

  She was right. “Yeah, I know. I guess I’ve gotten used to having you around.”

  She walked up to me, grabbed my face, and planted a chaste kiss on my cheek. “I hope you didn’t get spoiled. You know staying home was never part of my plans.”

  “True.” I was far from spoiled, but I didn’t mention that. Her career was important to her and one of the things that attracted me to her in the first place. Susannah exuded confidence in everything she did. She worked for one of the big hotel chains and had risen up the ranks. The problem was the rise brought a shit load of travel, which I wasn’t fond of. It took her away from the kids, even though I loved handling the home front. But I wanted to see her succeed and didn’t say a thing about it when it started happening. “It just seems like you can’t wait to get out of here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were rushing off to meet someone.” I was joking, of course. I trusted her explicitly.

  Her eyes avoided me as she let out a cackle and said, “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you when I get back.” She slid a manicured nail down my arm. Susannah was great at avoiding my comments.

  “Hey, I’m holding you to that.”

  Walking to the small desk in the corner of our expansive room, she quickly stuffed her laptop into a messenger bag and grabbed the charger putting it into the bag as well.

  “You have your phone charger and mobile battery?” I asked.

  “Yep, and I think that’s everything. I’ll text you when I land.”

  I juggled Aaron in one arm and hugged her with the other. “I’ll miss you every minute you’re gone.”

  “Same here, Grey. Love you.” She gave me a quick peck on the cheek, which was surprising, considering she’d be gone all week. I handed Aaron to her and carried her bag down to the waiting car that would take her to the airport. The car sped off as Aaron and I watched it go. Dawn hadn’t broken yet, but I would soon have to wake Kinsley up for school.

  The morning was hectic, but I managed to make it to work on time for my first appointment.

  As I walked into the back entrance of the building, my nurse asked, “Morning, Dr. West. How was your weekend?”

  “Great Nicole. I hope yours was too.” I kept moving until I got to my private office. I donned my starched lab coat and checked my emails. Nothing urgent in there, so I quickly checked my investments when Nicole informed me what the day ahead held. Then I scanned the office computer to see the charts of my patients.

  “Mr. Parton went to the ER last night. Chest pain. They admitted him. Dr. Goldsmith saw him since he was on call and they cathed him. He has another blockage. Looks like he’s going to need CABG.” CABG—coronary artery bypass graft—was a big surgery for someone with Mr. Parton’s debilitating health issues, which concerned me.

  “Did Goldsmith call in this morning?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir. He wants to talk to you ASAP.”

  “He’s not coming in?” John Goldsmith was one of the partners in our cardiology practice.

  “Not until around noon.”

  “Okay, thanks, Nicole.”

  I jumped on a call with Goldsmith. “John. What happened with Parton?”

  “Oh, man. His LAD is ninety percent blocked. Not to mention he has restenosis with the stent he has. Five of his arteries are greater than sixty. He’s a train wreck.”

  “Right, but he’s not a candidate for CABG. Have you looked at his total picture? I don’t think he’d survive the surgery.”

  John began, “He’s older but …”

  “Failing kidneys, post-stroke, and that’s only the beginning. If they graft him, they’ll never stabilize him afterward. He may survive the surgery, but the post-surgical arrhythmias would probably kill him.”

  “Fuck, Grey, why wasn’t any of that charted?”

  “It is. I’m looking at it on the computer now.”

  “I didn’t see it and I combed through everything last night.”

  “When you get to the office, check his chart. I’m not sure what’s being transferred via electronic medical records to the hospital, but it should all be in there.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Are you
still at the hospital?” I asked.

  “No. I’m home. Why?”

  “He needs to have stents. We can’t risk him having an MI.” A myocardial infarction spelled certain death for Mr. Parton.

  “You’re right. How’s your patient load this morning?”

  “Heavy. Let me see who’s on call to do it. Thanks, man.”

  Electronic medical records were supposed to solve all the problems of missing medical information. It sure did miss the mark on Mr. Parton.

  All morning I was swamped but finally broke away for a fifteen-minute lunch. I checked my emails while I scarfed down a sandwich. One was from an Allie Gordon, but I ignored it because I didn’t really have time. I was back in the saddle until three, when George called. He was the other partner on call.

  “Update on Parton for you. We’ve got him stabilized after the stents. That LAD was dicey, man. He’s stable now but there’s no guarantee with it. You know what I’m saying?”

  “I do. He’s lucky though. With that kind of blockage, he could’ve had the big one.”

  John agreed. “They don’t call it the widow maker for nothing.”

  I was finally winding down the day, dismissing my last patient, when Nicole, met me in the hall.

  Grabbing my arm, she tugged me to the side and said, “Uh, there’s a woman in the waiting room. She says it’s urgent and needs to see you. She looks really upset. Says it’s a personal matter. Linda tried to turn her away, but she started crying.”

  Linda was the front desk receptionist and was great at handling people. If this woman was still here, Linda must’ve thought it was important enough for her to see me.

  “Did she leave a name?”

  “Yes. Allie Gordon.”

  “Okay. Send her to my office. I’ll be there in a second.”

  After a quick bathroom break, I headed to my office. A woman close to my age sat there. Her eyes were red and swollen making it obvious she’d been crying.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Hi, I’m Allie Gordon.”

  “Grey West.”

  “Yes, we’ve met. Our spouses work together.”

  As soon as those words left her mouth, she sobbed. Shit, what the hell was going on?

  “Mrs. Gordon, are you okay? Can I get you some water?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t know what else to do, but I knew you ought to know the truth. Here.” She handed me a large, thick manila envelope. I stared at it, unclear as to what it was. “You should probably open it. It will make more sense when you do.”

  I tore it open to solve the mystery. The first thing I saw was a letter. It was from Allie to me. So I read it.

  * * *

  Dear Dr. West:

  For months I suspected my husband was having an affair. After many unanswered questions, I decided to hire a private investigator. He uncovered much more than I ever imagined. Since our spouses work together and after learning what I did, I thought it was only fair you should know too. I hired him a year ago. He uncovered things from over two years ago. Evidently, this has been going on for quite some time.

  I am deeply sorry.

  Allie Gordon

  * * *

  Inside were pictures, lots of them, and a thumb drive. I was not prepared in the least for what I was about to see. The pictures were damning. Susannah and Allie’s husband were embracing, kissing, doing things that punched me straight in the sternum, stomping the air out of me. My hands shook as I held the stack of them. They would’ve brought me to my knees if I hadn’t been sitting.

  I cleared my throat, forcing the bile back down into my gut. “You said over two years?” I hardly recognized my voice.

  “Yes.”

  My tone was dead, lifeless as I asked, “Does your husband travel?”

  “He left this morning for the week. I assume your wife did too.” She dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

  I nodded, numb with pain. A blade of fire ripped through my heart, but it didn’t stop there. It was gutting me wide open, leaving me to bleed all over the damn place.

  And then I stopped. “We have a four-month-old.” The words rasped through my lips like desert air. I dropped my head in mortification. Oh shit. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Aaron could be his son.

  “I know.” I raised my head and gazed into watery eyes filled with pity.

  Two hands fisted my hair. I stifled the urge to scream in fury … and frustration.

  Mrs. Gordon asked if I was okay.

  “Fuck no, I’m not okay,” I moaned.

  Her mouth briefly hung open before it slammed shut. Then she asked, “Is there anything I can do? I know exactly how you feel.”

  She was trying to help, to be kind, but I was lost in another dimension. I only shook my head in response. My emotions were an amalgamation of disgust, hurt, mortification, and fury. How could Susannah possibly have done this to our family … our children? Hadn’t she stopped to consider the ramifications it would have on them? I already knew the answer to that.

  Gathering all the evidence on my desk, I tore off my lab coat and without another word to Mrs. Gordon, I stormed out and headed for home. I needed to speak to my attorney and fast. Plans had to be made. Drastic ones. My cheating wife was going to learn what it felt like to be financially ruined. By the time she returned home on Friday, the locks would be changed on the house, and our bank accounts would be emptied. She fucked over the wrong guy.

  Only that’s not what happened. Little did I know those plans wouldn’t be necessary.

  Later that night I received a phone call that changed everything. Susannah and her co-worker, her lover, never made it to their final destination. Karma is a cruel bitch. Their plane crashed somewhere over the Pacific on its final approach into Seattle. There were no survivors. I never got the chance to vent my anger … to tell her the affair she’d been having for over two years had been exposed. I never had the opportunity to question why she had done such a terrible thing to our family and marriage. And I never had the chance see her expression when I asked her whether or not Aaron was my son.

  To read From Ashes To Flames, From Ice To Flames, or From Smoke To Flames, check them out on my website here: https://amhargrove.com/series/the-west-brothers-series/

  Excerpt — Secret Nights

  Chapter One — Six Years Ago

  Skylar

  * * *

  “Skylar, I swear to God I will beat your fucking ass if you don’t do what I say. Now get out there if you know what’s good for you. He’s been waiting and doesn’t like to be late.”

  “Mom, please.” It’s my last ditch attempt at begging. This isn’t the first time she’s dressed me up like a whore and forced me to meet her pimp. Her threats on the beating are true. I’ve felt her fist more times than I care to remember, and don’t want to feel it again. For a small woman, she could knock the daylights out of me.

  Her voice suddenly turns whiny. “Sweetie, you know how much I need my medicine. I get sick if I don’t have it. And this is the only way. Do it for me, baby. You will, won’t you?”

  When I look at her, I realize there is no choice. She’s skin and bones, nothing like she was when my dad still lived here. She used to be pretty back then. But these days, she takes no pride in herself. None at all. She rarely bathes unless she gets so hard up that she turns tricks on her own. And now that I look legal, she’s all but sold me off to her pimp and bullies me to do her dirty work. She has ulterior motives. I bring in more money than she ever would. Oh, if she’d clean herself up, she would be okay, I suppose. But she won’t do it. So I’m her personal hooker and drug habit supporter. Lucky me, a sixteen year old. Fun times.

  “Yeah, Mom,” I say, resigning myself to what lies ahead. A night filled with things I can’t stand to think about.

  Any other mother would die before they’d put their daughter in danger like this. Not mine. Instead, she stands there and smiles. Then claps her hands, like we’re getting ready to go on a picnic or something. Some twisted picnic.
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  “I knew you’d see it my way. Always knowing how to help your poor old mom.”

  Turning around I walk out the door. Her pimp, Mikey, stands there waiting.

  “Hurry your ass up, girl. I don’t have time for your shit!” His fingers tighten around my neck. “You better act right tonight or you know what’s coming your way, right?” He presses himself against me and his fetid breath would make me gag, but I don’t because his grip on me is so tight it restricts any motion in my throat.

  “Yeah,” I croak, as I squeeze back tears. What he means is he’ll beat the crap out of me. He’s done it before and won’t hesitate to do it again. The last time, the beating was accompanied by a rape. Bile rises up from my gut again, but I force it back into its proper place. What other choice do I have? We get in his car and he drives me to some guy’s place. It’s in a seedy part of town, and my shaky legs take me up four long flights of steps to get to apartment 4D. The guy answers the door and the urge to turn and run is overwhelming. But I don’t. Instead, I walk inside, where the room is foggy with smoke. An open bottle of whiskey sits on a round table and he asks, “Want some?”

  “No, thanks.”

  The place is a mess, clothes strewn everywhere, and dirty dishes stacked all over the place. But that’s not what bothers me the most. It’s what I’m going to have to do next.

  The guy is old, like my mom. Maybe in his forties or something. He’s pudgy with a belly that droops over his pants.

  “Take off your shirt. I wanna look at your tits.”

  My hands tremble as I undo the buttons. One thing I’ve learned is not to look at their faces. But I make the mistake of doing that now and see him lick his wet lips. Watching his fat slimy tongue slide over his thick blubbery lips almost makes me lose my lunch. My face must show this because he laughs.

  “Not into this, are you?”