Chas’s Fervor
AN INSURGENTS MC ROMANCE
Chiah Wilder
Copyright © 2015 by Chiah Wilder
Kindle Edition
Editing by Hot Tree Editing
Cover design by Cheeky Covers
Proofreading by Wyrmwood Editing
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Description
The first time Chas saw his son’s teacher, he wanted her in his bed. Now.
Chas, the hardened, tattooed member of the Insurgents Motorcycle Club, has sworn off women since his divorce left him bitter and jaded. The last thing he wants to do is settle down with another old lady.
His relationships now are easy and free—exactly the way he likes it.
Until he meets curvaceous Addie. The sexy redhead whose eyes set him on fire.
He has to have her between his sheets.
And he knows she wants him. Eyes don’t lie.
Addie O’Leary has lusted after her student’s dad ever since she saw him.
She has guarded her heart and her life for the last two years. Now Chas, the tattooed, dirty-mouthed, rugged outlaw biker threatens to tear down all her barriers.
Always loving the bad boy, Chas is a dangerous badass with an attitude and an outlaw MC. His charming smile pulls at Addie’s heart and his chiseled chest makes her body overheat.
Carrying around a deep, dark secret, Addie is afraid her past will destroy her future. Chas seems to be her only hope for redemption. Will he be able to intervene before it’s too late?
Chas knows Addie is hiding something. He makes it his mission to find out what it is, and, once he does, he’ll claim her as his woman.
The Insurgents MC series are standalone romance novels. This is Chas and Addie’s love story. This book contains violence, strong language, and steamy sexual scenes. HEA. No cliffhangers! The book is intended for readers over the age of 18.
Previous Titles in the Series:
Hawk’s Property: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 1
Jax’s Dilemma: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 2
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Description
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
About Axe’s Fall
Excerpt from Axe’s Fall
Chiah Wilder’s Other Books
Prologue
Lizzie Quinn washed her hands again, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn’t get the blood off her fingers. Looking under the bright lights above her bathroom mirror, she saw streaks of it filling in the grooves and ridges of her skin. There was just so much blood.
Her husband knocked lightly on the door. “Lizzie, aren’t you done in there yet? You’ve had the water running for the past hour.”
“Go away, Ian.” A stray strand of golden red hair flopped in her face, and she blew it away while she continued scrubbing. She’d never be able to get rid of the blood, or the horror of what had happened. Lizzie leaned over the chrome faucet and sobbed, her tears dripping into the sink below.
Lifting her head slowly, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Redness around her puffy green eyes made her porcelain skin appear more translucent, and the dark circles under them made her look like an extra for a zombie movie.
How had a beautiful summer day morphed into such evil? If only she’d stayed home instead of following Ian earlier that day. It’d been Lizzie’s suspicions of him having an affair that had coaxed her out into the white sunlight, making her duck into alleyways, bushes, and storefronts to avoid detection.
When Ian had entered a large, two-story brick house in a genteel, suburban neighborhood, Lizzie figured her hunches had been right. She’d stood before the bright red door, battling with whether she should go in or leave. She’d decided to go in and catch her cheating husband in the act. Lizzie had turned the doorknob then stepped into the marble foyer, frigid air from the air conditioner washing over her as she’d listened for sounds of betrayal. Nothing. The silence had been deafening.
Then she’d heard it—a loud swoosh, like the winter wind, followed by a gurgle somewhere to the right of her. Walking down the large entry, she’d entered the kitchen, and shock slapped her in the face: Ian calmly opened a large plastic bag, placing a bloodied hunting knife in it. Lizzie looked from Ian to a woman in her thirties, who was crumpled on the hardwood floor as pools of red pulsed around her, soaking into her white cotton dress. The woman’s eyes were dull and lifeless like two blue marbles, sucking Lizzie into the dark, sunken holes. And as much as she’d wanted to tear her gaze away from the death in them, Lizzie couldn’t.
“What in the fuck are you doing here?”
Startled, she’d turned and caught Ian’s icy stare. Shaking her head, she’d padded over to the collapsed woman and knelt down, taking the lifeless hand in hers—the skin was still warm.
“What’s going on here? We have to call 911.” She’d glanced back at Ian, and his stone-cold indifference had frozen Lizzie to the spot.
“We’re not calling anyone.”
“But she’s dead,” she’d whispered.
“I know, that’s the point.” With precision, Ian had placed the wrapped knife in his briefcase, and Lizzie noticed he wore gloves.
Wide-eyed, she’d gasped. “You wanted to kill her? Wh
y? Who is she?”
“I don’t know. I’m not paid to get to know the targets, just to eliminate them. You shouldn’t have come here. You’ve left all kinds of evidence.” Snapping his briefcase shut, Ian had straightened his tie and walked toward the backdoor. “You’ve made a mess of things, Lizzie.”
“I’m going to call the police.” Dialing the number on her phone, she’d stopped when Ian rushed over.
By the way he’d gripped her arm, bruises would be inevitable. In a low, hard-edged voice, he’d said, “You won’t call the cops unless you want to be arrested. Your finger and footprints are all over the place. Your hands are covered in blood, as well as your clothes. Unless you want to spend the rest of your life in prison, you’ll go home, clean up, and decide where we’ll go for dinner tonight. Do you understand?”
With a fallen face, Lizzie had nodded, numbness overtaking her.
“Good. I’ll be home later. I’d give you a goodbye kiss, but I can’t chance any contamination from you.” At that, he’d left the house, closing the back door quietly.
After he’d gone, Lizzie leapt up and rushed over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. Her racing mind told her to go to the police, but Ian’s words haunted her. He was right—her finger and footprints were everywhere. The only thing she could do was run. Run far and fast.
* * *
Another knock on the door brought Lizzie back to the present.
“Open up, we have to talk.”
Dreading the sight of him, she dried her hands and turned the doorknob. Ian stood just outside the door, a scowl on his lean, smooth face. As he grabbed her arm, she yanked it away and brushed past him, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows which gave a beautiful view of the Chicago cityscape.
When he came behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, she shrugged them off.
“We need to talk,” he said in a low voice.
“Do we?”
“Don’t be like that. Why don’t you get dressed in something nice and we can go out to La Petite Maison—your favorite restaurant. We can talk there. Does that sound good?” He placed his thin, cold lips on her neck, making her shudder. “I have a quick errand I have to run, but I’ll be back in less than two hours. Be ready.” A thin thread of danger weaved through his voice.
Nodding curtly, Lizzie leaned her head on the cool window and looked out at Lake Michigan. From the penthouse, the sunbathers, joggers, and sailboats looked like mere dots in a vast landscape painting.
The ends of Ian’s shoes tip-tapped against the marble floors as he walked out. After she heard the front door close, she waited fifteen minutes, staring at the dots below, not daring to move. When he didn’t return, she dashed to the closet and took out her suitcases. Lizzie threw only the necessities in them then pocketed the wad of cash Ian had in the wall safe. With suitcases, cash, purse, and keys, she left her penthouse condominium. Having no clue where she was going, she decided to grab a cab and take a train out of the city. She’d have to reinvent herself, but she didn’t have any idea how to do that. The only two things she knew for certain were that she wasn’t going to go to prison for something she didn’t do, and she had to flee from Ian.
Ian, the man she loved and married two years before, for better or for worse, was a paid assassin, and blood money bought everything they owned—the cars, the condo, her clothes, everything.
Looking out of the cab as the city streets whizzed by, she made a decision—Lizzie Quinn would disappear forever.
Chapter One
Two years later—Pinewood Springs, CO
Looking at the clock on the wall, Addie fumed as she saw the hands read five o’clock. The eight-year-old boy seated next to her at the reading table tried to act as though he didn’t care that his mother was forty-five minutes late picking him up.
It had been a few weeks since Jack had joined the pilot reading group. Addie had liked him instantly. The young boy was so eager to learn and in just the short time he’d been in the program, he’d shown some marked improvements. Addie had five students in her after-school program at the library. As head librarian, she’d been able to put the program together, and if she could prove its success to the city board, she could obtain funding for future sessions.
Jack’s big, brown eyes looked down at his hands as he rubbed them over and over. A slight tremble made his lower lip shake, and his dark brown bangs fell down past his forehead into his eyes. Picking up the phone, Addie called Jack’s mother for the umpteenth time, and again, the call went straight to voicemail. Addie left a much curter message than her previous ones on the mother’s answering machine.
“I don’t think my mom’s coming,” Jack mumbled as he looked down at his hands.
In a soft voice, Addie said, “Oh, I’m sure she just got tied up. She’s probably rushing to get here, but in case she’s running very late, I should call your father and see if he can pick you up instead.”
A smile cracked over Jack’s face. “Yeah, he’ll come get me.”
As she began to dial the number she had in Jack’s file, a jangle of chains and the loud clack of footsteps on the linoleum floor made her look up from her task. Coming toward the reading table was a tall, lean, muscular man. Dark brown hair fell in long layers a little bit past his collar bone, and his black eyes shone like well-polished quartz. A strong jaw and high cheekbones were covered in his five o’clock shadow. His legs were powerful, every corded muscle emphasized by the tight denim covering them, and his fitted black t-shirt showed off a finely sculpted chest. Staring at him, she was rendered speechless, and his commanding presence and good looks mesmerized her. After glancing briefly at her, he rushed over to Jack, bent down, and ran his hand through Jack’s dark hair. Jack looked up at him, smiling, while tears brimmed in his eyes.
Crouching down, Chas put a large hand on his boy’s shoulder, moving Jack closer to him.
“Hey, little buddy, what’s wrong? Why’re you all upset?”
“He thought his parents forgot to pick him up,” Addie said, as she stood up and crossed her arms over her ivory blouse.
Ignoring her, Chas hugged his son. Circling his small arms around his dad’s neck, Jack hid his face.
“You know I’d never forget you, right, buddy? Your mom called me just fifteen minutes ago telling me to pick you up, that’s all.”
In a hitched voice, Jack asked, “Why didn’t Mom come? She knew she was supposed to pick me up after the reading circle.”
“At four fifteen, forty-five minutes ago,” Addie interjected as she went to the table and leaned against it.
“I’m aware of the time. I learned how to tell time when I was in grade school. I don’t need you to tell me what I already know.” Chas threw her a sideways glare, then focused his attention back on his son.
“Apparently, you weren’t a very good learner,” she muttered under her breath, but the way he stiffened his back led her to believe he had overheard her.
“Your mom had something unexpected come up. She called me, and here I am. You know one of us will always be around to pick you up, right?”
Jack nodded slowly.
“Okay, so all’s good now, right?”
“Yeah. Am I going home on the hog?” Jack’s eyes lit up, the fear in them gone since his dad was there.
“You bet.”
Standing up, Chas turned to stare at Addie full-on, a look of surprise crossing over his face. Pushing back on his black engineer boots, his eyes moved up her body, lingering on her curvy hips—accentuated by her pencil skirt—then brazenly rested on her chest for several seconds before stopping on her rose-tinted cheeks. Heat flushed against her fair and lightly freckled skin, making it blush pink as he blatantly checked her out.
Flustered, she walked over to one of the bookcases and pretended to straighten a book. Regaining her composure, she turned around and looked him straight on. “Jack was scared not knowing when he’d be picked up. I phoned your wife several times and left many messages, but she never answered.”
Jutting out his jaw, Chas narrowed his eyes and said, “She’s my ex, and I’m here now, so it’s all good.” Giving her the once-over again, he walked up to her, leaving barely a few inches between them. “What did you say your name was?”
Black eyes under perfectly shaped eyebrows bored into her. White teeth flashed when his lips curled into a smile. In his right ear, a silver Celtic cross earring dangled and swung when he moved his head. Trying to create some space between her and his imposing figure, she flattened her back against the rows of books behind her. A sliver of satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, as her discomfort was transparent.
Tilting her chin up in defiance, she looked at him pointedly and said, “Ms. O’Leary. Please, don’t take any offense, it’s just that I worry about the kids and how they feel when parents are late, or when they don’t know where their parents are. Jack was very scared he’d been forgotten.”
“And you’re the teacher?”
“I’m the librarian, but I engage in the after-school reading group your son is in. Since he’s started, he’s doing quite well.”
“I’m Chas. Nice meeting you.” Extending his hand, she grasped it and small electric currents tingled against her skin. Blinking, her green eyes locked onto his coal black ones, and for a moment, the current connected them. As the heat rose up her neck, she pulled away, looking sideways as her embarrassment colored her face. What is the matter with me? I’m acting like I’ve never seen a good-looking guy. Dammit. Chiding herself for her absolute lack of professionalism, she glanced back to his face. He smirked, moved away from her, and went up to his son.
“Were you scared, buddy?”
“No, I knew it was okay.” Jack grinned, exposing two front spaces from his recently lost teeth—it made his dad laugh.
Messing up the top of his son’s hair, he winked and drew the kid close to him, giving him an extra hug. “That’s my boy.”
Watching this tall, mean-looking man display such overt affection to his son touched Addie. His good looks, badass attitude, and the tats peeking out from under his t-shirt also affected her, but in a very different way. Drooling inwardly, she couldn’t help but imagine what his large hands would feel like on her skin. Not believing how his mere presence could place her body in overdrive, she shook her head, trying to dispel thoughts of her student’s father. How could she even think about his hands running over her, or his full lips kissing her in places she had never been kissed? For God’s sake, he’s off-limits. Dunk your head in a fucking bucket of ice water, Addie. He’s Jack’s dad. You can’t be doing this.
Chas's Fervor: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 3) Page 1
