by Lexy Timms
“I see that, Dolfo,” the other man rumbled, and clapped Saks on the shoulder.
“Uncle Vits?” Saks asked.
Chrissy’s eyes practically bugged out of her eyes. Vits? As in Vittorio Rocco, the head of the Rocco family. He was Saks’ uncle? What the hell?
“And what are your plans for today, eh?” Vits queried.
“We just came from church,” Saks said. His voice was frosty now, as if he was burying something deep within him.
“Church?” her grandfather said. “An unusual first date. But what’s not to like about that? Who thought of that? Not my granddaughter here.”
Now it was Saks’ turn for his eyes to widen. “Granddaughter,” he said slowly, turning his gaze to her. “You’re Pandolfo Serafina’s granddaughter?” There was cold fury behind his words, but she barely noticed it. She was sinking in a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts and confusing emotions.
Saks, AKA Anthony Parks, was the nephew of the Serafinas’ most hated enemy.
He’s not part of the business. He works for a living. You’ll like that.
Her grandfather’s words floated to the surface of her thoughts. But she was in shock, barely able to process that the man she took to bed in defiance of her family’s wishes was the very man they wanted her to marry.
“Of course she is,” Vittoria Rocco said. “I told you this.”
“We should leave the young people to their breakfast,” her grandfather said. He reached out and patted her cheek. “You’re a good girl, Chrissy,” he said with approval in his voice. “You’ve made an old man very happy.”
Chrissy sat like a deer in the headlights as the heads of the two biggest crime families in the state walked to a table like they were old friends. This had been planned all along. Saks knew about it, too. She was going to kill him. Kill all of them! Stupid grown-ass men.
“You knew about this?” Saks spat with restrained fury when though older men were seated. “You were in on this? What was your plan? Get me in bed to soften me up?”
“Me?” Chrissy said indignantly. “You were the one who made a move on me. Came onto me hot and heavy, as I remember.”
“Sure, that’s why you showed up at the Red Bull before we were supposed to meet.”
“You think I liked this cock and bull scheme of my grandfather’s?”
“Why else would you be in on it?”
“I’m not in on it!” she said loudly.
The waitress brought their plates, took one look at their faces, and set the plates down and beat a hasty retreat.
“Don’t deny it, Chrissy,” Saks said. “You damned Serafinas will do anything to get what you want.”
Chrissy rose, shaking with righteous anger. “Damned Serafinas?” she growled. “Let me tell you something, Mr. Anthony Parks, or whatever the fuck your name is. I’d go to hell before I’d marry a Rocco man.”
“You could only be so lucky,” Saks snapped.
Chrissy was shaking so hard with anger she couldn’t contain herself. “You, you,” she said. But she was so angry that she couldn’t get any more words out. Instead, she picked up her plate of Eggs Benedict and hash browns and dumped it on Saks’ head.
“Hey!” he yelled as the yellow sauce and broken over-easy eggs slid down his face. And then, as if the entire restaurant wasn’t listening to their argument, all conversation stopped. She became extremely aware of every eye on her, including her grandfather’s, whose face turned a startling shade of red. He rose from his table and Chrissy did the only thing she could think of.
She ran.
THE END
To be Continued...
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Book 1 of the Hades’ Spawn Series!
one You Can’t Forget
By Lexy Timms
Copyright 2015 by Lexy Timms
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to an actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
All rights reserved.
Copyright 2015 by Lexy Timms
Hades’ Spawn Motorcycle Club Series
One You Can’t Forget
Book 1
One That Got Away
Book 2
One That Came Back
Book 3
One You Never Leave
Book 4
One Christmas Night
Book 5
Description
FROM BEST SELLING AUTHOR, Lexy Timms, comes a motorcycle club romance that'll make buy a Harley and fall in love all over again.
Emily Rose Dougherty is a good Catholic girl from mythical Walkerville, CT. She had somehow managed to get herself into a heap trouble with the law, all because an ex-boyfriend has decided to make things difficult.
Luke “Spade” Wade owns a Motorcycle repair shop and is the Road Caption for Hades’ Spawn MC. He’s shocked when he reads in the paper that his old high school flame has been arrested. She’s always been the one he couldn’t forget.
Will destiny let them find each other again? Or what happens in the past, best left for the history books?
CHAPTER ONE
In Love for 60 Seconds
THE SUN STREAMED IN the open driver’s side window as Emily drove Interstate 91 away from her job in New Haven. The wind blew through the car, warm and full of the promise of the first decent spring day after the brutal New England winter. On either side of the four-lane highway, the bare branches of the trees sprouted the light green beginnings of leaves. Emily loved this time of year, and how the trees looked, fresh and newborn. She smiled, glad for the sun and the breeze that flowed over her dress. Soon summer would be here and she would spend what days she could at the beach.
The revving of an engine caused her to glance to her side, where a man riding a pearl orange Harley, a 2009 XL Sportster, a bike built for speed, passed her Honda Civic. She caught her breath. His black hair whipped back, and his white t-shirt fluttered across his broad and muscled chest under his leather jacket. His thick thighs hugged the hog and his black biker’s boots rested with confidence on the foot pegs. In that passing glance, she caught his face, a black goatee framing his jaw and chin, though his eyes were shaded by reflective sunglasses.
He was gorgeous.
At that moment, Emily Rose Dougherty knew she was in love. She loved these men who claimed the road without caution on thrumming beasts that were a heart beat away from danger. Emily loved their wild hearts that lusted to have the open road before them. It was a freedom that Emily only tasted briefly, her arms wrapped around his waist, breathing in the scent of leather and of him, loving how her body melted in his.
Luke.
There was still a sharp pang in her heart, a twitch of her heart strings, when she thought about her high school love. Luke Wade was everything her conservative Catholic parents hated. Motorcycle riding, leather jacketed, wrong-side-of-the-law bad boy. Everything about Luke screamed trouble.
She loved him.
Not for his bad boy ways. No. When Luke was with her he displayed an entirely different side. Loving. Thoughtful. Concerned only for her welfare. He was not the young man that people said he was.
It didn’t matter.
The rev of the motor beside her shook Emily out of her reverie, and the bike roared up the highway, taking the man she was in love with for sixty seconds, away.
Gone.
Just like Luke.
SOMETHING WAS WRONG.
When Emily got to her third-floor apartment, the door hung cracked open. Hers was a small one bedroom with the kitchenette separated from the living room by a half wall with a counter. She didn’t own much: just a little furniture, a couch with side tables, a coffee table and a small television. There was nothing of value in her apartment, nothing to draw thieves.
What happened? Did Mrs. Diggerty leave the door unlocked again? Her elderly neighbor was kindly, but getting forgetful. She liked to visit with Emily’s cat, Reger, during the day, and Emily, kind hearted that she was, gave the woman a key to her apartment. Emily reasoned it was good that someone else could look after things for her if she got stuck at work, like that couple days during that awful blizzard last winter. However, now she’d have to rethink the key privileges.
“Hello,” said Emily, opening her front door cautiously. “Mrs. Diggerty, is that you?”
Reger let out a keening cry.
“Reger, sweetie, come here, baby.”
The yellow tabby shot towards her, rubbing himself furiously against her legs. Emily picked him up and gave him a kiss between his ears.
“Sure, the cat gets all the love.”
Emily stiffened recognizing the voice. She walked in and shut the front door to find her boyfriend, Evan, his lanky body splayed on the couch. His blonde hair spilled messily on his forehead, and his blue eyes were bloodshot. He was drinking, again, an all-too-frequent occurrence since he lost his job.
“Evan,” she said tightly. “What’re you doing here?”
“Waiting for you. Since you took your sweet time getting home, I got a little curious.” He lifted a brown leather journal, Emily’s journal, and waved it in the air.
“Very interesting reading.”
“How dare you! That’s private!” She stood, unsure if she should grab the journal or had the damage already been done?
“I can see why. Luke this, Luke that.”
Emily’s eyes widened. She always used the same type of journal since she started writing it when she was twelve. She must have filled twelve of them by now. But how did he find her high school journal? There was only one way. “You dug through my closet!”
He shrugged. “I especially like this entry.” Evan thumbed open the book.
He read: Luke and I fell asleep while watching the stars. When we woke up it was two AM. Boy was mom and dad angry. They grounded me until the end of school. I know they hate Luke, but that just isn’t fair.
Emily didn’t think she’d ever been this angry. Her hands balled into fists as they hung at her sides.
“Watching the stars...” Evan smirked. “Is that what you called it?”
“Give me that,” demanded Emily, advancing on Evan. She swiped for the journal, but his longer arms held it out of her grasp.
“So all this good-girl stuff you’ve handed me is a load of crap. You put out for this Luke guy, but you won’t with me.”
“It’s not crap. Nor is it any of your business.”
“I say it is.” Evan grabbed her arm and jerked her down to his lap. “You’ve been telling me ‘no’ for months now. Know what? I’m tired of it.”
Emily tried to squirm out of his arms but he was too strong. “Let me go!”
“Give me a kiss,” he said, holding his face close to hers.
“No! Let me go, or I’ll start screaming.” Emily kept trying to push him away. The smell of stale alcohol puffed from his breath and pores.
He sneered. “Who’s going to hear you?”
“The neighbors.”
“That old bat next door is almost as deaf as a stump. Come on, baby.” Evan pushed his lips to hers, covering her breast with his hand, pinching the nipple through her dress.
Stuck on his lap, held down by his strong arms, Emily didn’t have much leverage. There was only one thing to do. She clamped down on his lip with her teeth.
“Damn!” protested Evan, pulling his head away and rubbing his lip where she bit him.
Emily took advantage of his surprise and jumped off his lap. She lifted the lamp on the side table by the couch, turning over the pictures and knickknacks on it as she did so, and held it like she was going to swing it. “Get out!” She was breathing hard, frightened and pumped up to take a swing at him. All she needed was an excuse.
Evan glared at her. “Bitch.”
Unfortunately, that was not enough of an excuse. But calling her that didn’t help his cause.
“I’m not going to say it twice. Get. Out. Now.”
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stood. “I see how it is. You can slut around with this Luke guy, but your boyfriend is another matter. You’re just a cock teaser.”
“Get out! Now! And don’t bother to come back. We’re through.”
Evan looked at her stunned, and backed away. She shook the lamp in her hands, and he turned and left the apartment, slamming the door so hard the pictures on the wall rattled.
Emily sank to the couch, her hands shaking. Her eyes filled with tears. She had thought Evan was a good guy up until he lost his job. Then he became jealous and possessive. Today was just the last in a string of nasty incidents. However, with him coming into her home without permission, going through her things, and reading her personal diaries, well, it was too much.
A timid knock sounded on the door.
Emily rolled her eyes. He’d better not have returned with one of his insincere apologies.
“Yes,” she called out, glancing at the lamp she’d set down.
“It’s Mrs. Diggerty.”
She opened the door a crack.
Mrs. Diggerty was in her seventies, very thin and wore her hair in a bun on top of her head. She usually wore dresses, but she always wore a full apron. “Is everything, okay, dear,” said Mrs. Diggerty. “I heard shouting.”
“Evan and I broke up.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“I’m not.”
She looked ready to cry. “But I let him in. He said he wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, from now on he’s not allowed in my apartment.” Emily sighed and forced a smile. Mrs. Diggerty hadn’t meant to cause any problems. It wasn’t her fault.
She nodded her head. “Is Reger okay?”
“He’s fine. You can come in if you want.”
Mrs. Diggerty petted Reger for a few minutes, giving him some attention, while Emily picked up the pictures and knickknacks that had fallen on the floor.
Emily didn’t speak to her, even though she should. It was just the words wouldn’t come out.
“It’s okay, dear,” said Mrs. Diggerty gently. “I see you need some alone time.”
“See you tomorrow.” Emily didn’t try to argue.
Mrs. Diggerty closed the door softly, and Emily sank to the couch. Reger jumped into her lap and rubbed her face with his. Absently, Emily stroked her feline friend.
She closed her eyes, feeling sad. It wasn’t because she ended things with Evan. He never could claim her heart. That was the problem. In a way, she couldn’t blame Evan for being angry with her. She always kept him, and if she was honest, every man at arm’s length. It was as if there was a lock on her heart.
Emily picked up the journal Evan discovered buried in a box in her walk-in closet. She flipped it open.
I can’t believe Luke Wade paid attention to me, to me, Emily Rose Dougherty, of Wakefield, CT. When I went to my locker at lunch he was there smiling, at me! I asked what he was doing, and he said, “Waiting for the prettiest girl in school.” “Who’s that?” I asked. “You, of course.” I melted, just melted. I’m definitely not the kind of girl he hangs out with, not like Sheila Harmon who is always clinging to him. He looks so cool on that motorcycle of his...
Emily flipped forward a few pages.
He kissed me! He actually kissed me! I thought I was going to die my heart sped up so fast. When he kissed me it wasn’t a slopp
y tongue kiss like Ted Healy tried to give me. No, it was smooth, and delicious, our lips sliding together like they were meant to kiss each other forever.
And then a few more.
Mom and dad are furious. Angela saw me at the Dairy Shoppe with Luke, and the little tattletale told them. Little sisters are so impossible. I told Luke we’d have to cool it for a little while and he looked so sad.
Emily shut the journal, the memories of her teenage life too much to take. Her parents didn’t understand her relationship with Luke, didn’t try to see that he wasn’t as bad as everyone else said. That day she and Luke arrived home after her curfew was a tipping point that sent her overprotective parents over the edge. Couldn’t they trust her? Didn’t they see that Luke made her happy? No. They couldn’t see past the leather jacket, the boots and the motorcycle. Her parents couldn’t believe someone like Luke wouldn’t take advantage of their little girl. But he didn’t, not ever.
“Being with you is more important,” Luke told her. “When we’re married, there will be plenty of time for that.”
“Married?” Emily said surprised.
“That’s what I think about at night, when I’m not with you. What it would be like for us together, talking in bed together, telling each other what happened during the day.”
“I’m not ready to get married, Luke,” she told him.
“I know. You want to go to college. That’s important to you. I’ll go with you, whatever town you go to. Heck, I can get a job in any bike shop.”
Such dreams.
Shattered.
Like her heart.
CHAPTER TWO
Aces and Spades
“Hey, Luke!”
“Morning, Gibs.” Luke grinned as the older man shambled into Luke’s repair shop. Gibs was a top-drawer motorcycle mechanic, but most mornings he looked like something the dog dragged in, chewed up and spit out. His clothes were often oil stained, and his gray hair hung to his shoulders and his scraggly beard to his chest.
