Broken: a bad boy romance novel

by London Casey

  “Is this dirty money?” he growled.

  “What?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” David snapped. “This is greasy money, I bet. You said it yourself, you don’t make this kind of money that fast. So how did you get it?”

  “Savings,” I said.

  “Lying bitch. He can’t save you.”

  The words rocked me, and I tried to pull away.

  David was stronger than me.

  I swung my right foot—my adrenaline kicking in—and I kicked David in the balls. He let me go and stumbled back.

  “Cora!” a voice boomed.

  I looked over my shoulder and saw Hudson coming down the alley. He had a gun in his hand.

  I was in shock for a second.

  Hudson? How…why…

  “Run!” he yelled.

  The car started and the headlights blared once again.

  I looked just in time to realize what was about to happen.

  I was going to get run over.

  And that’s when it all hit me.

  The driver of the car. It was the guy who’d driven into the building. The guy that almost killed me once. The guy who had hit Hudson with his SUV and almost cost him his leg and his club.

  I turned to face Hudson’s direction and started to run.

  “I’ll kill you!” David shouted from behind me.

  Hudson raised his gun and started to shoot. I ducked my head even though I knew he wasn’t shooting at me.

  The car was faster than me, obviously. I felt the vehicle lurching toward me. I tried to figure out what to do next but there seemed to be no escape at all.

  I put my arms out, reaching for Hudson. We were just feet away, but it felt like miles. Hudson dropped the gun and jumped at me. I felt his fingertips touch mine. A moment later, his strong hands gripped my wrists tight. I was suddenly off my feet and swinging around. I let out a scream, certain the car had hit me and that I was in the air, about the hit the windshield.

  That didn’t happen, though. Instead, I was flung around to the side of a dumpster. I hit the brick building so hard I lost my breath and gasped for air. I watched then as Hudson stumbled back, favoring his bad leg. Before I could scream or truly comprehend what was happening, the car was right there, right at Hudson. He managed to jump at the last second, but that didn’t stop the car from hitting him. In the blink of an eye he was on the hood, hitting the windshield. He covered his head and his face as he rolled off the car to the ground.

  The car then sped away, the engine roaring.

  As the sound of the car faded, it was replaced by a new noise.

  Me screaming.

  I held Hudson’s arm, and he held mine. I stared down into his eyes, thinking he was fucking crazy. He wouldn’t let me call an ambulance. Instead, he made me get his cell phone and call Jasper.

  “I’m fine,” he said in a hoarse voice, his pain obvious.

  “You liar,” I said. “What were you doing here?”

  “Saving you,” he said. “Fuck, sweetheart, that man driving…”

  “He was the one who tried to kill you before,” I said.

  Hudson nodded. He put his head back to the pavement and winced in pain.

  “Your leg. I need to check your leg.”

  I had to basically take Hudson’s jeans off right there in the back of a dark alley. I had done some crazy things before, but everything after meeting Hudson seemed to get crazier by the day.

  His left leg—his bad leg—was hurt again. There were fresh cuts and scrapes, blood, and bruising already. I touched his thigh, and he groaned. As I moved down, I felt the tightness of his muscles. That’s when Hudson screamed.

  “Shit,” I said. “You should go to…”

  “No,” he growled at me. “I need my brothers. The clubhouse. I need to tell them everything.”

  I hurried and took off my jacket and balled it up. I put it under his leg for some support. I could quickly tell that nothing was broken. That was good, but it didn’t mean there wasn’t muscle or nerve damage. He was still healing from the first time he’d been almost run over.

  But this time was my fault. It was all my fault. Because I’d told him the truth about myself.

  In the distance, I heard the rumbling of the motorcycles.

  Minutes later, the alley was flooded with bikers. They came from both sides. They all flocked to their fallen brother, ready to help and eager to defend.

  Trev marched around, barking out orders like the leader he was.

  “What’s the diagnosis, Doc?” Cash asked me.

  “I’m not…”

  “A doctor,” Cash said. “I get it. What do we do with him?”

  “He should go to the hospital,” I said.

  “No,” Hudson yelled. “Get me up. I’m fine.”

  “Stand him up, then,” I said. “He needs ice and elevation. I don’t think any of the cuts are deep enough for stitches.”

  “Perfect,” Cash said. He turned to Hudson and crouched down. “Come on, bro, stand up.”

  Cash and Xaiver got Hudson to his feet. His head bobbed like he was drunk, but it was just the pain flowing through his body. The entire left side of his body had taken the brunt of the impact, but the right side had taken the fall on the ground.

  “I want this alley cleared out,” Trev announced. “I want a prospect to take Hudson’s motorcycle back to the lot.”

  “I’ll ride it,” Hudson yelled.

  “Like hell you will,” Jasper said. “You need a bed and some whiskey, brother.”

  Not to mention a doctor.

  Trev then looked at me and walked right toward me. I froze in place.

  “You okay driving him?” Trev asked.

  “Yes. I’m parked around the front.”

  “You realize you’re in the middle of this now?”

  I nodded. “I still don’t understand everything.”

  “Let’s think of it this way: you gave cash to a man who was driven by a man who is an enemy to the club. And that man is supposed to be working with another crew that could be another really big enemy to the club. When I smell the air, know what I smell?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Gasoline. And all it takes it one little spark to ignite the whole fucking thing. Understand?”

  I nodded. I didn't really understand, but I didn’t need to hear anything else Trev had to say. I was scared to death. I thought I was just paying David some cash. But now it had turned into something completely different.

  I followed Cash and Xavier as they took Hudson to my car. He was able to sit in the front seat but he did not look comfortable at all.

  When I got into the car, I looked right at him. There were a million things I wanted to say.

  But I just whispered his name.

  “Hudson…”

  And he answered, “Just drive, Cora.”

  So I did.

  I followed the bikers to the clubhouse, where Cash and Xavier came to get him out of the car. I grabbed Hudson’s arm and shook him.

  That’s when he finally looked at me.

  “This is my fault,” I said. “And you tried to save me. I had no idea David was with that other guy. I’m so sorry.”

  Hudson adverted his eyes from mine.

  Cash opened the door. “Come on, brother. Let’s get you on ice.”

  When they got him out of the car, I just sat there.

  I felt tears in my eyes.

  There was a knock at my window and I jumped.

  It was Cash. I rolled the window down.

  “What?” I asked.

  “He’s your outlaw now,” Cash said. “It’s your job to lick his wounds.”

  “I’m invited inside?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Cash. “And I’m sure Prez isn’t done with you yet.”

  Cash was frowning.

  My heart sank.

  I went from one person threatening me to a group of people wanting me dead.

  And there was only one question in my head.<
br />
  Who would strike first?

  22

  HUDSON

  I stared at the beautiful motorcycle. The sun was starting to come up, and I had barely slept at all. Guys were still drinking from the night before, sitting at tables outside, yelling at each other over stories that were too old to really remember what happened. Prospects stood at the front of the lot, guns tucked into the back of their jeans, on strict orders to be ready to fire, and be even more ready to die.

  I had a beer bottle in my hand and threw it back, killing the warm liquid off. I threw the bottle into the air and followed it as it crashed to the ground, shattering.

  Looks like me.

  I snorted.

  I wasn't even going to bother right then to try and get on the fucking motorcycle. I wasn’t going to admit I was moving back to square one, but it was getting pretty damn close.

  I touched the leather seat and grabbed the handlebar. I lowered my head and thought about the first time I really took a ride. From the house I grew up in, that house of hell. Running from a mother who had already left and from a father who thought he was doing right by working hard, but all he did was spend it on women and booze. Women who would aim their daggers at me, bringing their bosses to the house, a gun to my head, demanding I pay what my father owed.

  The motorcycle was freedom. It was home. It was the fountain of life. The elixir I drank, the blood in my veins, the pulse of my heart.

  A hand grabbed my shoulder. “You sleeping?”

  I turned, and Trev was standing there. “Prez.”

  “Let’s cut the shit, Hudson,” he said. “Strip it down to just two brothers talking.”

  I nodded.

  “The leg?”

  “Still attached. Not as bad as what happened the last time.”

  “Your woman wanted you at the doctor,” Trev said.

  “Yeah, she did. Not a chance, Prez. We’ve got things to do. Shit’s coming together…”

  “She’s involved.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” I said. “She owed a guy some money for a bad loan from years ago. She said they would never meet. And he would only come around once in a while. This time, he demanded cash, meeting in person. The whole thing stank of a setup.”

  “What’s the verdict in your eyes, Hudson?”

  “The guy she owes money to, David, maybe he’s Irish. Maybe he’s running rogue with Aaron. But it’s pretty clear that Aaron is calling all the shots here. So we cut him off, and the thing dies.”

  “What about your woman and the money?”

  “That’s a personal thing. Not club business.”

  “You’re into this one,” Trev said with a laugh. “Some woman starts twisting your leg around and you fall in love.”

  “Not that simple, Prez,” I said.

  “We’re brothers right now. You call me my name.”

  “Fine. Brother. Trev. I have to figure out how to handle Cora. I’d fight and die for her the same way I’d do for the club. I just wish she told me everything sooner. Maybe we could have found a way to piece things together or set Aaron up.”

  Trev nodded and grinned.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m putting the Prez hat back on in a second,” he said. “But as your friend—your brother. I love you, Hudson. And I know you’re strong enough to get on that motorcycle and ride into the horizon. And I know you’re stubborn enough to twist your feelings and blame this woman for everything. But if you do that, you’re a real piece of shit.”

  “And she deserves this MC life?”

  “She’s been in it for how long now? From the second she touched you, she was in. You know that. You love her, then you keep loving her. Now, let me put my Prez hat on. That woman could tell us shit that could help. Because it’s about to get really busy around here.”

  “Is that so?” I asked.

  Trev grabbed both shoulders and kept me steady. “Garvan and Bryant are on their way here.”

  “What?”

  “They want a front row seat to this thing now.”

  “How the hell are we supposed to take care of business now?”

  “The way we always do, Hudson. The way we always do.”

  Trev nodded and broke away from me. He turned and walked to the table where a few of the patched-in guys sat. He put a foot up and looked around.

  “You better get some sleep, guys,” Prez said. “We’ve got company coming. We need to spruce the place up.”

  Two of the guys started to laugh. One coughed and turned his head, hacking.

  I looked at my motorcycle again.

  Then I glanced up at my truck.

  I had chased Cora out of the clubhouse.

  Now I just hoped I hadn’t chased her out of my life.

  23

  CORA

  I had a bag on my bed and was considering where I could go. I’d gotten a call from the CEO of the rehabilitation company, and he apologized for the way I was treated. He offered me a full-time position again, and when I said I wasn’t sure what I wanted, he extended that offer to any of his facilities in the country. It was a clean slate. A chance to start over.

  I then called Alex, who was staying in Oregon with her sick grandmother. I offered my forgiveness for not keeping in touch with her over the last little while. A quick five-minute story of all that had happened left her speechless on the other end of the call, which never happened before. She then offered for me to come up and stay at her grandmother’s house. It was a massive house near the ocean—quiet, cold, and rainy. Perfect weather for a heart that was confused and aching. Perfect for a person living a life that seemed to drown in nothing but regret.

  That was last night.

  I ended up sleeping on the couch, my bed taken up by a bag that had no clothes in it.

  Could I just up and run? Would David follow me? What about Hudson? I wasn’t sure what he would do. Forget about me? Find me? Send the MC after me? Maybe he’d send another charter of his guys after me.

  I woke from a nightmare I couldn’t remember and felt like I’d had stepped into a fresh nightmare. I made coffee and ate cereal like I was ten years old getting ready for school. I pretended to read the newspaper, but in reality I just scanned words that I didn’t connect into sentences or stories.

  Upstairs, I looked at the suitcase and wondered what to do. Running from problems would only provide me with a temporary release. Then again, maybe that was what I needed. Just enough time to figure out my next move.

  I got out of the shower, changed, and stood at my closet.

  My heart raced.

  I just needed to do it.

  Right?

  Forget about Hudson and his leg.

  Even if it was my fault.

  But it wasn’t the first time. And to be fair, I almost got killed once before because of Hudson.

  I shut my eyes, and I was back in the alley. I heard the sound of the car. The engine roaring as it chased me down. I could almost feel it touch me. Then Hudson was there, at the right time, grabbing my wrists. Swinging me out of the way of the car. My back was still bruised, and it hurt when I took a deep breath because of how hard Hudson threw me to save me. And then he was stumbling into the alley. The car hitting him.

  I threw my arms into my closet and opened my eyes. I grabbed all the clothes I could and pulled. Some fell to the floor, some remained on hangers, some were then in my arms. I turned and took two steps. I saw the empty suitcase.

  I threw the clothes to the floor and shook my head.

  That’s when the doorbell rang.

  I let out a small gasp.

  I wish I had Hudson’s gun.

  Hudson stood on the porch looking beat-up and tired.

  I just stood in the doorway and stared at him.

  Someone was going to break the ice, and it wasn’t going to be me.

  He ran a hand through his hair and touched his chin. The scruff on his face was looking almost like a beard. He was unkempt, but he was still way too sexy
for my own good.

  “Cora,” he said. “I need to ask you some questions, and you’re not going to like them.”

  “You came here just to say that?” I asked him.

  “No. But it has to be said. And the questions need to be asked and answered.”

  “So then, ask your questions.”

  Hudson stepped forward with force and intention. His hands cupped my face. My heart skipped at least two beats. I thought for a second I was going to pass out.

  “I should have never gotten angry with you,” he whispered, “or asked you to leave the clubhouse. I put you in danger, and I’m sorry for that.”

  “I just want you to be okay, Hudson. I want you to have what you want in your life.”

  “The only thing I want in my life, sweetheart, is you. I can figure out life after the club and without a cut…even without a ride. But without you? I don’t want that life.”

  I reached up and touched his face. I dug my fingers into the messy scruff of his messy beard.

  There were no more words to speak.

  Hudson kissed me.

  I slid my hands down to his leather cut and tugged at him.

  I wanted him inside my house.

  I wanted him inside me.

  We paused for a moment when Hudson looked at the bed and floor.

  He opened his mouth to probably ask what the hell was going on in the bedroom, but I wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. I grabbed at the back of his neck and forced him to kiss me again. His hands were everywhere on my body, starting over my shirt but quickly going under. Seconds ticked by as clothing flew from our bodies. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so rampant before when it came to sex. There was a sense of urgency, as though we had minutes before the world came to an end.

  I climbed up on the bed and got on my knees. I was almost at eye-level with Hudson then. I opened his jeans and pushed them down far enough that he could just step out of them. He did as my hand grabbed for his thickness. He was so full, so hard, so perfectly bad for me. I stroked him root to tip, then back to his root, and I pulled.

  Hudson growled as we kissed, coming forward. I was topless, wearing nothing but panties. Our bodies collided together, heat on heat, my breasts pressing against his muscular chest. His right hand spread across my back, taking his claim again. The move was subtle, but it was the hottest thing Hudson could have done to me. His other hand shot down the back of my panties, cupping my ass, pulling me forward, easing his cock between my legs. I felt the hardness pressing against my panties, him thrusting, a thin piece of silky cloth separating our bodies from completing our intimate transaction.