Rowdy

by Jay Crownover

  The Meteors—“Psycho for Your Love”

  Hayes Carll—“Love Don’t Let Me Down”

  HorrorPops—“Dotted with Hearts”

  Buddy Holly—“Because I Love You”

  Chris Isaak—“Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing”

  Jason Isbell—“The Devil Is My Running Mate”

  Lindi Ortega—“When All the Stars Align”

  Three Bad Jacks—“Scars”

  Kasey Anderson and the Honkies—“My Blues, My Love”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I have the greatest job ever. A bad day doing this is still a hundred times more rewarding and fulfilling than a good day doing something else I didn’t have my heart in. I have the BEST readers in all of book land. You’re funny and sweet, supportive and endearing, and full of heart and fire. Not a day goes by that my life isn’t enriched by interacting with you in some way. It makes my heart happy that you love this little slice of book world I’ve created as much as I do. Anytime you choose to spend your hard-earned money on something I created just makes a little piece of my writer soul fill with both pride and gratitude. I just need each and every single one of you to know how much I value you and how much I appreciate all the wonderful things you have brought into my life. If we ever get a chance to meet out there in the big, bad world, know that I am the one excited and thrilled to meet YOU!!! It’s an honor to hug you and tell you thank you for buying my books and giving me a fresh start when I so desperately needed one. I hope you know that with every book, every story, I go into it knowing that I owe all of you everything. Thank you for letting me be me and not being too freaked out by all my spazziness and boisterousness. Thank you for embracing my crazy and the fun that can go along with it!

  Like I always say, I love to hear from you, so feel free to chat at me and know if I could I would buy each and every single one of you a beer on release day.

  Holler at me: jaycrownover@gmail.com

  Along with having the best job I have been blessed with the best people to help me do it. Amanda Bergeron is the coolest editor a gal could ask for. She is tiny and mighty and she really does make sure every book that ends up in your hands is the best it can be. She makes me better even when it makes me want to murder all the things.

  The entire team at HarperCollins is amazing. Jessie Edwards and Alaina Waagner take supergood care of me and they work really, really hard to make sure all the readers in book land know what’s going on with me and they try really hard to keep the business end of putting a book into readers’ hands fun. I hate to fly but don’t mind traveling to New York as much when I get to hang with these awesome ladies once I get there. The entire HarperCollins/William Morrow crew is just kick-ass in general and they all really just love books and romance and want readers to have the best experience possible. I feel like I landed in the right place and ended up in the right hands . . . kinda like Rowdy and Salem J.

  My agent, Stacey, is a superwoman. No one works harder or takes better care of me in the book world. I have endless amounts of love and respect for her . . . again even when what she tells me makes me want to murder all the things! She’s just good people and I feel superlucky she believes in me and I still get a thrill and rush of pride when she reads one of my books and tells me how much she likes it.

  http://www.donaghyliterary.com

  I appreciate all the work the ladies at http://literatiauthorservices.com/ do to keep my book life running smoothly. Karen, Michelle, and Rosette are aces when it comes to organizing cover reveals and blog tours. They handle all the little details and prevent me from throwing my computer out the window.

  I just added the amazing and wonderful K. P. Simmon of Inkslinger PR to my team and there are no words to describe how lucky I am to have her as not only a friend but also a major part of my Book world!

  Melissa Shank is a doll. Honestly I didn’t know they still crafted women like her in modern times. I just adore everything about her and love her soul and her passion for books and readers. I never thought I needed a street team or fan page or that anyone would be interested in something like that. I was wrong, and Mel is amazing for taking a tiny little corner of Facebook and turning it into something fun and interactive. She’s just wonderful and I want to smother her in love. I also need to shout out to Katie Marcum for helping keep the Crowd rolling like a well-oiled machine. You both have my undying thanks. If you wanna join and come hang out, it’s pretty fun and Mel gives stuff away on the regular!

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/crownoverscrowd/

  I have another Mel that makes my life a treat. She reads all these books before the masses and before I send them off to Amanda. Her input helps me tell the best story I can and I appreciate having someone there to catch all my crazy ideas and help me wrangle them into an exciting, romantic journey. The Marked Men wouldn’t be what they are without her . . . none of my boys would.

  There are not enough words in the world to explain all the ways I need to thank my folks, so I’m settling for “thanks for everything, Mom and Dad.” They can fill in the blanks because there are a zillion different things I should thank them for every single day. They’re just the best.

  I love my bestie. I love all the things about her and really I just need to thank her for being her. She’s amazing. That is all.

  Thanks to all my book friends, new and old, for making signings and being out there in the book world a real treat. It’s always superfun to meet fellow authors and bloggers and I love getting to know all about the gears inside the industry that make this business tick. Book people are simply the best all-around, so thanks for proving that to be true time and time again.

  Blogger nation . . . oh, how you are the oil in the machine and I am so endlessly grateful for all you have done for me and the boys. Thank you for all that you do so selflessly. Thank you for getting my covers out there, for joining my blog tours, for wanting to interview me, and for asking me to do blog tours even though I have to say no because I have NO TIME!!!! Thank you for sharing your love of books. Thank you for writing reviews that are often better crafted than the book I wrote. Thank you for keeping book land united and connected. Thank you for spreading the word and sharing the things you love . . . and the things you don’t love as much. I love how punk-rock blogging feels. How grassroots and DIY it tends to be. I love how a passion for books and reading built an entire platform for people to stand on and shout about their passion to all that will listen. It’s supercool. As always, thanks to all of you bloggers that have morphed from reviewer to friend and confidant. I appreciate the early feedback and the reviews that hit my ears before they hit the Internet. Thank you for making me want to do what I do even better.

  I always end with a shout-out to my pack. I just love their furry little faces so damn much. I wish there was a way for them to know how much they mean to me!!! Smooches Charley, Pistol, and Duce . . . And to Mike Maley (who will never even see this) because I wouldn’t be able to leave and come meet all you wonderful readers if he didn’t take such good care of my furry family for me when I’m gone.

  Our favorite Southern charmer, ASA,

  is up next.

  But first . . .

  have you taken a trip to Jay Crownover’s

  The Point?

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at

  Better When He’s Bold,

  the explosive second installment

  in the suspenseful, sexy new series . . .

  CHAPTER 1

  Brysen

  SOME MEN ARE IMPOSSIBLE to ignore. It’s like everyone else around them is moving in slow motion, like everyone else is painted in black and white and he’s the only spot of color; the only thing moving in the room. Race Hartman was that kind of man. Even though an entire room full of loud, drunk, and excited party people separated us, even though I doubted he knew I was at the same house party as he was, all I could see was him. Tall and blond with a face and body designed to make the fairer sex stupid with lust, he was undeniably beautif
ul and delicious, like everything that was bad for you tended to be. I didn’t want to keep staring, but I couldn’t stop myself. He was just that dynamic—just that bold—and in my world where things were gray and lifeless, he was a sensory feast and I was happy to gorge.

  I missed the days when I just went to school, partied, had a good time and acted like I didn’t have a care in the world. Those days were long gone so I needed to stop gaping at Race like an idiot and get on with trying to enjoy the one night I had off from work and wasn’t needed at home. My little sister was at a sleepover, and my dad had agreed to stay home with my mom. It was a rare occurrence when I got to behave like a normal twenty-one-year-old, and I was squandering it by lusting after my best friend’s older brother, and probably the worst, most inappropriate guy in the entire world to have a crush on.

  “Do you know him?”

  My friend Adria was the one who had convinced me to come out tonight. I remembered parties like this being more fun. I took a sip of lukewarm beer out of a red plastic cup and fought the way my eyes wanted to magnetically drift to Race.

  “He’s Dovie’s older brother.”

  “Really?”

  Her disbelief was justified. Where Race looked regal, like some kind of golden god sent down to rule over us mere mortals, Dovie Pryce was a rumpled redhead covered in freckles and about as unobvious as one person could be. She was cute at best, not impressive and heart-stopping like her brother was. She was also the nicest person in the world. I was pretty sure Race didn’t have a nice bone anywhere in his impressive body.

  My fingers curled around the cup tighter when his head turned and those mossy green eyes met mine.

  “Really.” My voice was huskier than normal even to my own ears.

  “How can that be?”

  I liked Adria. We had Business Finance together and she was one of the few people who hadn’t ditched me when I was forced to move back home after everything with my mom went down. I didn’t have much fun anymore, which meant I didn’t have many friends anymore either. Trying to explain to her the complicated dynamics in the Hartman family, though, was not something I planned on spending the evening doing. Race and Dovie’s lineage wasn’t a story that was particularly good times, and that’s what I was after tonight—a good time.

  I gulped because Race was making his way through the crowd of dancing and grinding college students toward where we were standing. People just instinctively moved out of his way. It was like there was a force-field of badass that surrounded him that only those who liked to live dangerously dared to test. I wasn’t one of those people. At least that’s what I told myself every time I was around him.

  Sure, I was dangerously attracted, had been ever since the first time I saw him when he dropped Dovie off at work, but he would never know. Race wasn’t a good guy and my life was hard enough without adding in the kind of complication he was bound to be.

  To keep Race and those traitorous feelings at bay, I was awful to him . . . I mean really, really awful. I was cold. I was disinterested. I was rude, and sometimes I was flat-out mean. I acted like he was annoying, treated him like he was a vile, nasty human being, and when that didn’t work, I ignored him and acted like he wasn’t worth my time. It was getting harder and harder to do, and the more disdain I tossed in his direction, the more charm and liquid sex appeal he leveled at me. We were involved in a tantalizing back and forth game that I was terrified I would eventually lose. Race wanted me, and he didn’t make that a secret. I didn’t know how much longer my wayward lust was going to be held at bay under the assault of those evergreen colored eyes and that gorgeous head of spun gold hair.

  He flashed a million-watt smile at me and stopped so he was looming over me. Even in five-inch heels he towered over me.

  “Well, hello, Brysen.”

  I rolled my eyes and raised the cup to hide my involuntary gulp as his gruff voice slid over my skin.

  “Race.”

  Adria nudged me in the side with the sharp edge of her elbow. I cleared my throat and inclined my head in her direction.

  “This is my friend, Adria.”

  He stuck out a big hand and clasped her much smaller one. I practically saw her panties melt and her vagina throw out a welcome mat.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I should be asking him that. This was a college party, filled with drunk coeds and undergrads. I actually attended the university around the corner, but Race had long since given up the academic life for one that involved crime and lots and lots of illegal activity. He was the one who shouldn’t be here.

  “Just out having some fun.” I tried to keep my tone flat and uninterested, but if he could hear the way my heart pounded, the jig would be up for certain.

  He lifted a blond eyebrow at me and flashed a half grin. Gah . . . he even had a killer dimple in his left cheek. I wanted to lick it so bad. I dug the tips of my fingernails into my palms and took a deep breath.

  “I’m surprised you know how to do that, Bry, have fun.”

  He was right, so all I could do was narrow my eyes at him and put on the ice-queen mask I perpetually wore in his presence.

  “What are you doing here, Race? Shaking down poor college kids for their student loan checks?”

  His other eyebrow shot up to join the first one, and when he unleashed a full smile on us, it practically knocked both Adria and me over. Something darker flashed in his green eyes and I wanted to take a step back. Race was dangerous in more ways than one, and I needed to remember that.

  “Most college kids have zero sense and like a challenge. That’s a breeding ground for a guy like me. Plus football season starts next weekend and I just needed to check in on a few early clients.” His eyes slid over the top of my sleek bob to the toes of my pointed black heels. “I stayed longer for the scenery.”

  Adria cleared her throat and looked back and forth between the two of us.

  “Clients? At a house party? What exactly do you do?” If she only knew the kinds of illicit things Race did.

  He cocked his head to the side and the blinding smile he wielded like a weapon fell off of his face. There were a lot of facets to Race Hartman, and this darker, harder side of him had only made an appearance when he decided he was going to take over the reins of a major crime syndicate after he had had a major role in bringing the kingpin Novak down. Race wasn’t just a bad guy, a criminal, he was the bad guy. He was running numbers, loan-sharking, operating illegal gambling houses, helping his best friend chop and move stolen cars, and making sure every man, woman, and child in the Point knew he was the guy calling the shots on the streets now. He was too pretty to be that awful, but because of Dovie I knew exactly how filthy Race’s hands had become since taking over Novak’s empire. Not to mention his new business partner was a pimp, a money launder, and absolutely ruthless and cold. Nassir had to be shady and enigmatic considering he ran every underground operation that existed in the inner city and it seemed some of that had rubbed off on Race.

  “I make money, sweetheart.”

  And he did. I shifted uneasily on my too tall shoes and tried not to let him see how my pulse fluttered under his unwavering gaze. There was something about being desired by a man that you knew could destroy anyone in the room. It shouldn’t feel good, shouldn’t make my thighs clench and my insides pulse, but it did, he did.

  I smirked at him and tossed the longer part of my razor straight bob over my shoulder.

  “Race is an entrepreneur of sorts.” The kind you would only find in a place that was as dark and as broken as the Point.

  Adria obviously wanted to ask more questions. I saw her open her mouth, but before she could get a word out, a loud BANG rang out and the typical college party I had been using to try and escape the aching reality of my everyday turned into a chaotic riot.

  There was no mistaking the smell of gunpowder as pandemonium erupted and more shots rang out. I went to grab Adria, but because we were so close to the door, a flood of panicked bodies se
parated us in a split second. I felt hard hands grab me and pull me out of the way of the stampede. My face was pressed into a rock hard chest and a big hand held my head down as I was roughly moved through the press of running and flailing bodies.

  My heart was in my throat and I heard the gun go off one more time, followed by the shriek of a female voice. Race let out a litany of swear words from somewhere above my head, and he let me go for just a second. I heard glass breaking, felt him shift, pull me along behind him, and then the cool night air was around us. He set me away from him a little bit, but grabbed my hand and proceeded to pull out me along behind him. Our feet crunched over the broken glass of the back door he had obviously shattered in order for us to escape.

  I was panting and running in stilettos and skinny jeans after a guy with legs twice as long as mine, which was practically impossible, but I did it. He didn’t stop until we had rounded the yard on the other side of the house and made our way across the street. Most of the other partygoers had dispersed, and the wail of sirens could already be heard in the distance. I put my hands on his chest and pleaded with him,

  “We have to find Adria.”

  His eyes were practically black, full of emotions I was scared to name.

  “I can’t be here when the cops show up, Brysen. I have to go.”

  I gasped at him and balled my hands into fists so I could thump him on the chest—hard.

  “Help me find her, Race!”

  He just shook that perfect blond head and gazed down at me.

  “You’re the only one I was worried about.”

  My heart tripped, but the sirens were getting closer and he was moving away from me. I grabbed onto his wrist and realized I was shaking so hard I could barely hold onto him.

  “Don’t leave me.” My voice sounded scared and lost. I didn’t know what to do in a situation that involved guns and violence. It unnerved me how nonchalant he was with it all.

  The shadows in his eyes moved and his mouth turned down at the corners. Before I could react, his hands slid around the back of my neck, under the edge of my hair, and he yanked me up onto the tip of my toes. I clasped both hands around his wrists, tried not to freak out when my chest flattened against his and pretty much just dangled there while he proceeded to kiss the shit out of me.