The Faintest Spark
Roadmap to Your Heart, Book #1.5
Christina Lee
Contents
Blurb
Other Titles by Christina Lee
Prologue (One Month Earlier)
Prologue (Two Weeks Earlier)
1. Malachi
2. Sawyer
3. Malachi
4. Sawyer
5. Sawyer
6. Malachi
7. Malachi
8. Sawyer
9. Malachi
10. Malachi
11. Sawyer
12. Sawyer
13. Malachi
14. Sawyer
15. Malachi
16. Sawyer
17. Mal
Author’s Note
About the Author
Where to Find Christina Lee
An Excerpt from Chase the Sun
Copyright © 2017 by Christina Lee. All rights reserved.
Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without prior written permission by the author(s), except where permitted by law.
THE FAINTEST SPARK is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All products and/or brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.
Published by Christina Lee
Cover design by Kanaxa
Editing and proofing provided by Flat Earth Editing and Judy’s Proofreading
Blurb
* * *
Malachi O’Rourke spends his years as president of the Disciples of the Road cleaning up his father’s mess, grieving a broken heart, and protecting the men under his charge. Sawyer Malone hasn’t had it easy either since joining the Scorpions. While paying back a personal debt for his club seems gratifying on the surface, he ends up sacrificing way more than he bargained for.
* * *
When Mal recognizes that Sawyer is struggling, he offers him needed support. Something about the man’s quiet strength stirs deeply inside him. Sawyer knows he shouldn’t rely on the solace Mal provides, but he’s been the only ray of light in an otherwise bleak few months. So after a tender moment passes between the men, they simply chalk it up to their newfound friendship.
* * *
Besides, no one will ever measure up to Mal’s former old lady and Sawyer’s just been through his own tragic ordeal. But when they’re thrust together for a weekend event involving both of their clubs, they can no longer deny their attraction. Except time-honored loyalties and hard-fought tradition will not only force them to risk their standing—but also gamble with their hearts.
Other Titles by Christina Lee
Male/Male Romance
There You Stand
The Darkest Flame
The Deepest Blue
The Hardest Fall
The Sweetest Goodbye
Co-written with Nyrae Dawn:
Touch the Sky
Chase the Sun
Paint the Stars
* * *
Between Breaths Series (New Adult Romance)
All of You
Before You Break
Whisper to Me
Promise Me This
There You Stand (m/m)
* * *
Adult Contemporary Romance
Two of Hearts
Three Sacred Words
Twelve Truths and a Lie
To the readers of There You Stand and The Darkest Flame who asked that Mal finally get his HEA. I hope this is as satisfying to read as it was to write. I’ll miss the Roadmap characters but I’m thrilled Mal finally found his one and only. XOXO
One Month Earlier
Malachi
* * *
Sawyer stood across the room with a haunted look in his eye, a shaky hand raking through his hair, wet from the shower.
“Spoke to Fish—it’s all taken care of.” My voice startled him out of his trance, and his fingers worked to adjust the large shirt across his shoulders. I had lent him some clean clothes from the extras I kept at the compound, and though they didn’t exactly fit his smaller frame, it was better than the visual reminder of the terrible night we’d just had. “It’s over now, yeah? ’Bout time you got some rest.”
He shivered, his arms wrapping around his midsection. I took a step forward unable to curb my protective instinct. I’d gotten to know Sawyer through this ordeal and understood how much it had taken out of him. He’d shown up in weeks past with a similarly troubled look in his eyes—once after a particularly brutal night with Jake the Snake. I didn’t know what went on between them, didn’t particularly want to, but one thing was certain—that bastard didn’t deserve to breathe the same air.
And now he never would again.
“I won’t…I can’t…” he muttered, turning away from me. He wanted to appear strong and I got it. But he had assisted his club in bringing down the Asylum and in the process helped the Disciples exact revenge as well. I could never repay what he did for us, and though Smoke and Vaughn didn’t quite understand all the shit he put up with to nail that bastard, they would soon enough if I had anything to do with it.
Just not tonight. Tonight, we needed to lay low. We’d definitely feel the effects for weeks to come.
“Shhhh…” I closed the distance between us, not caring how it’d look to anybody who might walk in. I was consoling one of our own. He might’ve been from another club, and he might’ve been a man, but at that moment I didn’t give a rat’s ass.
My fingers curved around the back of his neck, snapping him out of his stupor.
Sawyer stared directly into my eyes, and I wasn’t sure what he saw right then, but maybe I provided an anchor for him because his shoulders unwound just a fraction. His gaze briefly traveled down to my lips before sliding back to my eyes, and fuck if that didn’t stir the faintest spark inside me. I didn’t understand what it meant, but I felt the need to pull him into my arms and comfort him. Make it all better.
“It’ll be okay, yeah?” I said around a parched throat. “Come’ere.”
When I tugged him toward me, his head sank to my shoulder. I could feel his warm and heavy breaths through the material of my shirt as my heart jackhammered in my chest.
“You were good. So good.” Almost felt like I was talking to a child, but I knew he needed this. Sure, Sawyer was only fifteen years my junior, but he probably wouldn’t get this from his own prez. Fish had enough to deal with, and I didn’t get the sense that he understood the gravity—let alone the ramifications this’d had on Sawyer. Especially given his family history.
I felt the wetness from his lashes against my neck before he sucked in a breath, and his lips came to rest against my throat. My jaw clenched as a shiver traveled through me.
Yanking himself away, he swiped once at his eyes and squared his shoulders. “I uh, should go find Fish.”
“Not tonight,” I replied with more force than I meant to. “He knows you’re here with us. Let’s get you to bed. You’re in no shape to be on your bike.”
His eyes traveled over my shoulder to the single mattress in the corner. He glanced at me, to the closed door, and finally nodded as if deciding he’d be safe. As he padded toward the cool sheets, I reached for the whiskey bottle I had brought in just moments before. I screwed open the lid and filled the two shot glasses on the side table.
“It’ll help you sleep,” I said, handing him the amber liquid.
We downed the shots in unison, both wincing at the burn.
“Fuck,” he mumbled as he lay down, pulling the blanket over his shoulders and shutting his eyes. I hovered over him, making sure he was comfortable before I made my way to the door.
“Mal.” Sawyer’s voice was soft, hesitant, and when I turned, his eyes were focused on me.
I stepped toward the bed. “What do you need, Sawyer? Want me to stay for a while?”
His cheeks heated and his eyes darted away. Instead of waiting for a response, I sat down on the edge of the bed so there’d be no question I was up to the task. “I’ll be right here until you fall asleep.”
My hand hovered above his head for a long moment before I finally took the plunge and touched his hair. It was thick and dark as ink—a stark contrast to his colorful sleeve of tattoos and piercing indigo eyes. I glanced at his plump red lips and the thin nose ring that gleamed against the glare of the nightstand lamp.
A deep sigh rumbled in his throat when my fingers burrowed deeper into his scalp. As I pushed a stray curl behind his ear, I wondered what in the hell I was doing touching a man like this. Especially since he was from another club.
Sawyer’s hand shot up and trapped my fingers against his head. Encircled my wrist and brought it down to his mouth. His lips brushed over my knuckles, stinging my skin. “Thank you. Just…thank you.”
Holy shit. I held myself steady as a current of electric energy jolted my very core.
When he shut his eyes and fell into a restless sleep, I had trouble swallowing the boulder lodged in my throat. I fought the urge to lie down and hold him all night. What the fuck was wrong with me? That sort of impulse had never before entered my brain about somebody under my keep, let alone about a man.
I shot to a standing position before I had any more messed-up ideas. Reaching for the whiskey bottle, I backed out of the room.
Two Weeks Earlier
Sawyer
* * *
I woke up in a cold sweat again. Fuck. When I glanced at the clock, it wasn’t even midnight. Damn. I had come home from a long shift at the garage and collapsed. I’d been working extra hours to keep my mind from wandering and still slept like shit. The nightmares didn’t help. Jake’s sadistic voice, his cold hands on my bare hips, that final fateful night.
My fingers hovered over the keys on my cell as I considered texting Mal. He’d been the one I’d turned to in this whole mess when I needed to talk, and though he’d told me his door was always open, I didn’t want to abuse the invitation. Last time I saw him was a few days ago when I drove over to the compound with some of the Scorpions for a barbecue. He was all business then as we discussed the fallout from taking the Asylum down. I tried not to think about how his fingers had been in my hair in that back bedroom while the guys debated whether or not the other clubs were buzzing about it.
“They called a meeting for all the heads in Woodale in a couple of weeks,” Fish had announced.
“Exact reason why we need to stay connected and on the same page,” Mal had said and when his eyes snagged on mine, it almost felt like a physical caress. He was the only one who really knew how affected I was by all of this. No way I’d want to appear weak in front of my own brothers and my prez. Though it was certainly dangerous to have shown my vulnerability in front of Mal. But somehow, I didn’t think he’d use it against me or rat me out. He’d treated me like I was one of his own throughout the whole ordeal. And sometimes like I was a kid. I didn’t like it but I appreciated the support.
The Scorpions were all about what went down that night, but nobody saw what happened on my end. Only Mal, Fish, Smoke, and Vaughn knew what I’d been up to. How I had played both sides to help the Disciples out. Fish had convinced me it was the right thing to do because he and Mal went way back. The only thing in it for me was earning my patch—and maybe Fish’s respect. So far it had worked out all right. Save for the nightmares. I used to have a ton after my parents died, so I knew they would pass soon enough.
“We’re having a grand reopening of the Hog’s Den next week. You all should come,” Mal had said as we were leaving that night. But I had missed the event. Didn’t want to go back there. Didn’t want to remember Jake hanging over Smoke and Vaughn as he ordered me to tie them up. How he had planned to pump them with heroin before he torched the place down with them inside. How he had some sick obsession with Smoke and would even call out his name while my hand was wrapped around his dick.
I shivered and lifted my phone to type a message.
Can’t sleep. Fucking nightmares.
Mal: Why don’t you come up to the Hog’s Den and see the changes we made here? Might do you good. I’ll be at my usual table.
I parked my bike in the back lot and made my way toward the door on shaky legs all the while considering hightailing it out of there. But I’d been through rougher things in my life. Had lived through the murder-suicide of my parents and had raised my sister until she came of age. Thankfully, she now lived happily in another state with her boyfriend and stepdaughter.
How could this be any more difficult? I needed to suck it up and remember I had agreed to take that assignment on. After their divorce, my own father had terrorized my mother in much the same way Jake had with Smoke. That alone was the biggest reason the setup was personal to me.
But now it was over, and I needed to move on.
Mal was right. As soon as I stepped through the door of the Hog’s Den and saw the fresh paint, the newly varnished surfaces, I breathed out in relief. Seeing Smoke and Vaughn laughing with a customer behind the bar was even better. They were happy, and I helped make that happen. That night had to go down the way it did, not only so the Scorpions could be on solid ground with the Russians again, but also so these men could have their lives back. They were damn good together.
As I glanced around the bar, I noticed the place was half-full even though it was a weeknight and last call was in about an hour. Vaughn looked up from his conversation with a customer, surprise flitting through his eyes. His gaze traveled around the room, landing squarely on Mal before a smile crept across his lips. “Good to see you, man.”
I breathed out in relief as I stepped closer to the bar. “Sorry I couldn’t make the party last week.”
“Enough said,” he replied and then motioned with his finger. “We spruced up the place.”
I reached forward to shake his outstretched hand. “It looks good.”
We were merely a stone’s throw away from what happened a couple of weeks back. Although neither of us would bring it up, it still hung there in the distance between us. Suddenly Smoke was at Vaughn’s side, and he reached across the bar to thump my shoulder. “Glad to have you here.”
It was his way of telling me that all was cool, and it helped loosen the tightness in my chest.
“What can I get you?” Vaughn asked.
After he served me a draft beer, Mal motioned me over to the corner table. His second in command, Jonas, was heading out the door with an attractive lady on his arm.
“You were right,” I said, sitting down. “Coming here definitely helped. Now if only my mind would cooperate while I’m sleeping.”
“Nighttime can fuck with my brain too,” he replied, and I wondered just what kept him up in the dark. I’d heard all the stories about how his old lady had OD’d at the compound years back. And his old man had succumbed to addiction as well when he was head of the Disciples. Which was why Mal felt protective of Smoke and had pulled his club out of all drug and weapons sales over the years. And though he’d been open about sharing certain facts with me, those things were also public knowledge and somehow, I’d hoped he’d go deeper. “You can always…”
“What?” I asked as his leg innocently brushed against mine beneath the table. I noticed how he sucked in a breath before quickly readjusting. Maybe he felt it too. How the air was thick between us. Or maybe Mal was just doing wha
t he did best. Taking care of his own. I should only be grateful and stop making fantasy shit up. Besides, it wasn’t like Mal ever gave any indication he was into men. Seemed he’d only just gotten used to the idea of Vaughn and Smoke running the Hog’s Den as a couple. But I’d also heard about Jude and Cory, another couple he’d helped the feds protect.
“You can always call or text me,” Mal said, bringing me out of my thoughts. “S’okay.”
“Nah, not gonna bug you like that,” I replied after chugging back my beer.
A smirk lined his lips. “Why did you tonight?”
“Good question.” I sighed, running a finger through the condensation on the glass. “I just…there aren’t many who know what that fucker put me through. The guys heard I was screwing around with that psycho to get intel. Least nobody razzes me too much. Guess Fish made sure of that.”
“Covert work is always underappreciated. Learned that in the navy.”
My eyebrows knit together. Picturing Mal in sailor whites got me heated under the collar. Hot damn.
Vaughn’s laughter suddenly rang out across the room, and it was infectious. He was always hamming it up for his customers, telling one story or another from his wild childhood.
“How they doing?” I asked around a smile.
“Pretty good. They belong together. I see that now,” he said. “ ’Course I don’t know how them things work exactly.”
“What things?” I asked, watching as Smoke and Vaughn worked in tandem to wipe down opposite ends of the bar.
“I mean, both of them identified as bisexual when they got their hooks in each other,” he said, rubbing his hand across his salt-and-pepper beard. The fact that this tough and straight biker prez was even working this through his brain was something; that was for sure. “But now they’re exclusive—that means they’re all gay, yeah?”
The Faintest Spark: Roadmap to Your Heart, Book #1.5 Page 1
