Table of Contents
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
Epilogue
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
My Father’s Rival
A Silver Saints MC Novella
Fiona Davenport
Copyright © 2017 by Fiona Davenport
Cover designed by Elle Christensen.
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.
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Contents
My Father’s Rival
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Pursuit
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Also by Fiona Davenport
About the Author
My Father’s Rival
A Silver Saints MC Novella
Jared “Mac” MacKenzie is used to making tough decisions as the President of the Silver Saints MC. When a member of a rival MC puts one of his brothers in a coma, he’ll do whatever it takes to get answers—including kidnapping Bridget Pierce, their president’s daughter.
Prologue
Bridget
Nudging the kitchen door open with my foot, since I was holding two glasses of sweet tea in my hands, I stopped dead in my tracks and it almost smacked me straight in the face. When I’d arrived back at the compound, one of the prospects told me that I’d have to wait to talk to my dad because he was busy. I wasn’t surprised since I was used to playing second fiddle to club business. It wasn’t that my dad didn’t love me––he absolutely did––but he had a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders as president of the Hounds of Hellfire MC.
Instead of complaining, I decided to make a batch of my dad’s favorite drink—besides whiskey or beer. I was hoping it would soften him up a little for whatever he’d called me to the clubhouse to talk about. Only I was shocked that his meeting was with the last person I ever expected to see there.
Jared “Mac” MacKenzie.
President of the Silver Saints MC.
My father’s rival.
And my secret crush ever since I first laid eyes on him a year ago.
He was twenty years older than me, but that didn’t stop me from fantasizing about what it would be like to be with him. To run my fingers through his light brown hair. Feel those muscles under my hands. Trace his tattoos with my fingers. Maybe my tongue, too. To feel his beard scrape against my skin as he claimed my mouth. And to tilt my head back and stare into his pale green eyes and find them looking at me instead of through me like I wasn’t even there.
He didn’t notice me gawking at him as he stormed through the clubhouse, slamming the door on his way out. Had no idea I took several steps forward, following after him until I heard the roar of his motorcycle’s engine. Would never know that I flinched when my dad called out my name because it pulled me out of my Mac stupor and brought me back to reality. The one where I knew I’d never have a chance with him.
“As if there was even a remote possibility of that ever happening,” I mumbled to myself as I changed direction and headed to my dad’s office. A man like Mac had no interest in a girl like me, no matter how much dreaming I did about him. And if he ever did, my dad would put a stop to it anyway. If I wasn’t sure about it before, the thunderous look on his face when I found him sitting behind his desk would have convinced me that it was hopeless.
“Hey, Daddy. I made you some tea,” I said softly as I held a glass out to him.
“Thanks, princess,” he grumbled, taking the drink from me before he pointed at a chair. “Sit down. We need to talk.”
I did as he asked, just like always, crossing my ankles and smoothing the knee-length skirt of my sundress over my legs after I got settled in my seat. “Is everything okay?”
“No. Not even close.” My heart started to hammer in my chest at his response. My dad wasn’t one to show weakness; not even with me. Seeing the scared look on my face, he heaved a deep sigh. “But it will be. Things are fucked up right now, but I’ll figure a way out of it. I always do.”
I couldn’t imagine a situation that would get the best of him, so I was quick to agree. “I’m sure you will, Daddy.”
“In the meantime, I need you to stick close to home more than usual. The boys will keep an eye on you, like they always do.”
“I’m supposed to start my new job next week,” I reminded him. A feeling of dread started to creep over my skin.
“It’ll be easier on all of us if you’re here or at the house instead of running around town. The job can wait.”
“But–”
“I’m not asking you, Bridget. I’m telling you,” he growled.
“I don’t think they’ll be able to hold the job for me if it’s going to be more than a week. The library’s already short-staffed, and I was lucky they were willing to give me a week off after graduation before I started.” My hands twisted in my lap as I silently pleaded with him to understand. I really wanted this job.
His deep blue eyes, the exact same color as mine, held a hint of apology. But his face looked like it was carved from stone. “I know how much you were looking forward to working there, but your safety comes first. And I can’t risk having you in town that much right now.”
“Does this have something to do with the Silver Saints MC?”
“It’s club business, princess.” Which meant I wasn’t going to get any more of an explanation about what was going on; not even if I lost my job over the situation. Whatever it was. “Stick close to home. Stay alert. And stay the fuck away from anyone in a Silver Saints cut. Especially Mac.”
Chapter One
Mac
“Fucking Hounds,” I grunted as I used my fist to open the door to my office. It flew back and smashed into the wall, startling the tall, lanky man sitting behind my desk.
Kyle “Scout” West, my VP, took one look at my face and frowned fiercely. “He refused?”
I lifted my chin as I rounded the desk and he stood to vacate my spot. “Wouldn’t fucking budge.” Flopping down into my chair, I stifled the impulse to smash something else. “Barely acknowledged he even knew about the incident.”
Three days ago, Logan, my Road Captain, ended up in the hospital after a fight broke out at a local street race. Seemed he’d stepped in when another man got too rough with a woman, and the other man had broug
ht a baseball bat into the brawl.
All we knew about the motherfucker was that he had been wearing a Hounds of Hellfire cut and Logan was in a fucking coma so he couldn’t call out the bastard.
I wanted retribution—to teach the fucker how to treat a woman and to never mess with a Silver Saint unless they wanted the wrath of the entire MC to rain down on them. But the only way to figure out the identity of the club member was through their Prez. None of his members would betray the brotherhood.
Everyone knew that Pierce’s only weakness was his pampered little princess of a daughter. I’d made the mistake of assuming the jackass would be outraged that one of his men would mistreat a woman.
“What next?” Scout asked. The rigid angles of his face were made harsher by a deep scowl and his gray eyes were screaming for blood. As if his appearance wasn’t intimidating enough, he’d been a scout sniper in the marines and just about everyone except me was at least a little afraid of him.
I had held on to a plan as a last resort, and I didn’t see any other choice. “We take something from him to bargain with.”
Scout’s mouth quirked up at the corner, but it was a menacing smirk. “Which of his sorry ass brothers do I get to put the screws to?”
I shook my head and opened the laptop perched on the desktop. “They aren’t good enough. Has to be someone he would give anything to get back.” My fingers typed quickly until I found what I was looking for. A local newspaper article about a book drive put on at the library in town. Flipping the computer around, I pointed to the screen where a small group was smiling for the camera. A willowy, red head stood at the edge, her smile bright but shy. “Bridget Pierce.”
“You want to go after his kid?” Scout asked, his tone incredulous. “You have a fucking death wish, Mac?”
“She’s the only one with the amount of leverage we need.”
“Might be right about that,” he admitted gruffly. “But how the fuck are we supposed to get our hands on her? He keeps her locked up tight in her little castle or surrounded with his boys. And unless he’s lost his damn mind, he’ll have her under extra security after your meeting today.”
I leaned back in my chair and rubbed a hand over my beard, thinking. “Their next run. May have beefed up her security, but that will leave the compound a little thin.” I grinned mockingly at Scout. “I’m thinking your skills have gotten a little rusty. A mission like this is just what you need.” He’d use tranqs to clear me a path and he’d do it at night, from as far as one thousand yards away.
“Fuck you,” he snapped even as he returned my grin. “I’m a fucking God with a rifle”—his smile turned lewd—“and any other weapon. Just ask Cat.”
I rolled my eyes and flipped him the bird. Cat was Scout’s old lady and I had zero desire to talk to her about his prowess beyond a sniper rifle. “Get your ass outta my office.”
We parked our hogs a mile away and loaded into a black van driven by one of our prospects. He dropped us near the back of the compound and then nestled the vehicle near the edge of the surrounding woods.
It only took about ten minutes before we spotted two members patrolling the electric fence surrounding their property. One at a time, they fell to the ground as Scout’s silent ammunition struck them.
“Probably got ten minutes before they send someone out to check on those two,” Hack, an enforcer, informed me through my ear bud. “After Scout takes them down, maybe another five before they sound the alarm.”
I grunted a reply and crept up to the fence. Trading my riding gloves for thick, complete leather ones, I nodded to the brother with me, Grub. He handed me a pair of razor sharp, plastic wire cutters.
Reputation and appearance went a long way in protecting the Hounds compound, and I knew they kept the electric charge at a lower voltage because they felt secure in the other aspects. Still, without the proper precaution, touching the crisscross metal would knock me on my ass and keep me shuddering for a while.
With that in mind, I carefully cut a large arch into the fence, then pulled it open and secured it with rubber clips. I tossed my tools back to Grub and once again changed out my gloves. I went with thin, black leather this time. It gave me more dexterity since I didn’t need protection from the electricity at this point.
“Going in,” I murmured.
“Three minutes down,” Hack grumbled. “Move your ass and don’t get caught.”
I didn’t take the time to respond with a scathing comment, instead focusing on slipping through the hole I’d made. The president of an MC usually lived at the clubhouse, unless he’s got a family. Pierce was paranoid and didn’t want to be far, but he didn’t want his precious daughter living in the clubhouse. So, he’d built a private addition off the back.
Other than guards and a few prospects, most of the club was helping with their current run because it was one of their biggest clients. He hadn’t skimped on the protection though, and I knew I’d have to deal with one or two guys if I tried to get inside on the main floor.
A few days of recon had shown us which windows Bridget seemed to pass by the most and we’d determined that her bedroom was at the top right, the one with a balcony. At well over six feet, it only took me a running leap to grab hold of the bottom and pull myself up enough to shift my grip to the railing. Spending hours at the gym and in the ring definitely paid off.
I shook my head in exasperation when I realized the sliding glass door was unlocked. The kid was clueless. Silently, I slid it open and stepped into the moonlit room. I scanned the space until my eyes landed on the bed, then shuffled over until I stood at the side.
Fuck me running.
The girl lying on the bed had thrown off the covers and was dressed in only a thin tank top and tiny shorts. This was no kid though. She was a woman, from her gorgeous red hair splayed on her pillow, to her plump, kiss-me lips, to her generous tits, to her long—fucking long legs. My cock swelled, and my mouth watered.
I was in deep fucking shit.
Chapter Two
Bridget
I’d been feeling restless ever since I’d had that talk with my dad. Or maybe it was from seeing Mac in the clubhouse. Either way, I’d barely been able to eat or sleep, and it hadn’t gotten any better tonight. If anything, it was worse since I’d had the hardest time falling asleep. I’d tossed and turned, waking up three times already. I was cold, jumpy, and irritable.
“Not again,” I mumbled under my breath, reaching for my sheet and blanket. My hope was that I’d be able to fall back asleep if I could get warm again. Then I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye, and I figured I must be having one of those dreams where you thought you were awake but you really weren’t. Because that something I’d caught sight of was actually a someone. And not just anyone. It was...
“Mac,” I breathed out before it registered that what I was seeing was not a dream. As he stalked towards me, quickly closing the space between my bed and the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony, I realized he was actually in my room. For real. Dressed all in black; leather jacket under his cut, shirt, jeans, boots, and gloves.
Jerking upright, I gasped, “What in the world?”
“Fuck,” he gritted out. Those pale green eyes of his narrowed, raking up and down my body. Then his nostrils flared, and his lips firmed into a line. All of his focus was on me, just like I’d always wanted. Only I couldn’t wrap my brain around it.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I hissed when he made it to the side of my bed. My gaze darted from him to the door and back again. My dad wasn’t around, but I knew that he’d left guys to watch over the place because I was home. “Someone’s going to catch you and then—”
He reached down to wrap his hand around my arm, and I lost track of what I’d been trying to say. “Quiet,” he ordered.
“But—”
“If you can’t keep quiet, you’ll be right—someone will figure out I’m here. But you’ll also be wrong because they’re not gonna catch me. T
hey try to get in my way, what they’re gonna get is hurt. Doesn’t matter how many men I have to go through; you’re coming with me.”
“Coming with you?” I echoed. I shook my head in confusion, and his fingers tightened on my arm.
He bent down low, his face only inches from mine. “You heard me. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Choice is yours.” His gaze dropped down to my chest, where my pebbled nipples were poking against my tank. “If you’re looking for an incentive to go the easy route, cooperation means I don’t have to carry your ass outta here dressed like you are right now.” His expression darkened, the idea really seeming to piss him off.
Considering I only ever wore this little clothing in the privacy of my bedroom—and that the man doing the talking was Mac—the decision was simple. “I have a sweater and jeans I can toss over my pajamas.”
He lifted a hand, and one long finger traced the strap of my tank on my shoulder. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, a mixture of shyness and desire evoked by being so close to my fantasy man with barely any clothes on. “Get ‘em on. Now.”
When he stepped back and jerked his head towards my closet, I scurried off my mattress. It only took me a minute to grab what I needed and toss it on. Then I shoved a pair of socks onto my feet and slid on a pair of gym shoes. As soon as I was done, Mac led me out the sliding glass door and onto my balcony.
“Shit!” he grunted.
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