Fury (Heaven Hill Generations Book 3)

by Laramie Briscoe

  The sound of the wind in my ears, the feeling of freedom I’d never had before. The open road was my first love as I let all the stress of my young thirteen years fade away when I ride behind him. He helped me buy and fix up my first bike, and since we became a part of his family, I’ve loved Liam Walker, and I’ve rarely kept secrets from him. But this one? This one was a must. It’s been eating at me ever since I started keeping it, and I know if I don’t share the information I have, it’s going to eat me alive.

  We both know exactly where we’re going. A small dirt road deep in Warren County where two rivers meet and we can be alone. Nothing out here, except for nature. Not many people go back in these parts any more. Far away from the main hub of Scottsville Road that’s become such a large part of Bowling Green. There the streets are lined with restaurants, shopping centers, doctor’s offices. The traffic is clogged at the busiest times of the day, commuters trying to get home to the surrounding areas. This patch of nature is still that. It’s not been sold to put an apartment building or a new housing subdivision on, in fact nature has reclaimed it a little more since the last time I was here.

  Once we get to the clearing, we come to a stop, getting comfortable when we’re positive about being alone.

  Dad is a patient man, but even he’s running out of it with me. I’ve been a bastard, hard to be around, some would even say fucking paranoid since July of last year when we were ambushed. It took months, but when I found out who did it, I couldn’t come to grips with the depths of my hatred. Still ain’t, if I’m being honest.

  “Andrew, it’s time.” His voice has taken on a weaker quality over the past few years, perpetually hoarse, compared to how it used to be. Another sign of the aging I don’t want to believe is happening to any of us.

  Taking a deep breath, I inhale the smell of nature. The honeysuckle blooming, the fishy odor from the river where it hasn’t rained in a while. This is home, and I’ll be damned if somebody fucking takes it from me. I’ve been there, done that before, and nobody will ever threaten my livelihood again. This time I’ll hold on with both hands and dare the devil himself to fight me for it. I’m not a young kid now, I’m a man who knows what he wants.

  “For weeks after the attacks, you know we were trying to figure out who ordered them.”

  “Right,” he agrees. “We did a lot of reconnaissance, wondering if it had to do with me, one of the members, or your mom,” he recalls.

  “Nothing came back,” I remind him. “Until one day I got a letter. Apparently, my asshole sperm donor had another son. For some fucked up reason he seems to think I got this patch on my back because of him. He thinks Heaven Hill isn’t your legacy but his, and he’s declared war on me to get what’s his.” I drop the bomb. “The bitch of the situation is, Steele hasn’t been able to find anything on him.”

  “What? Steele can find something on everyone. They can have a parking ticket from fifteen years ago, and he can find it.”

  Rubbing the beard on my cheeks, I give him a sardonic nod. “I know, which is fucking worrisome. I have no idea who this person is that I’m fighting. I don’t know who my enemy is. We still have no goddamn concrete evidence from anything that happened last year, Dad. I’m struggling like a motherfucker, trying to figure out how I’m supposed to protect our family from a stranger.”

  “He hasn’t made another play?” Dad asks, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, along with his lighter.

  Raising my eyebrow pointedly at him, he waves me off.

  “Not that I know of, but don’t forget, I don’t know exactly who he is. All I have is a letter he sent me. There was nothing on that letter. Not even a name; he’s a fucking ghost as far as I’m concerned.”

  “No post office marks or anything of that nature?”

  Thinking back, I remember turning the envelope over and over in my hands, looking for anything that would tell me who this person was. The only thing written was my name, and it wasn’t written as Andrew Walker. It was written as Andrew Cunningham.

  “Nope, the only thing on it was Andrew Cunningham.”

  “The fuck?” Dad makes a face.

  “Right? It’s confusing how he knew Cunningham, but not Walker, and Cunningham was Mom’s name. None of this makes any sense whatsoever. I don’t know where to go from here, hell I don’t even know where to start.”

  We’re quiet for a minute until I hear a motherfucker under Dad’s breath.

  “Not having any postal markings on it means it was hand delivered, Drew.”

  I’ve thought about that more times than I can count. “I know, which makes me wonder if someone else isn’t in on this.”

  “Wait.”

  Dad holds his hands out in front of him. His blue eyes meet mine. I can see the hurt in them, the irritation, the fear that I’ve been carrying, because he’s just come to the same conclusion I came to.

  “Like within the club?” he asks the question and I’m thankful I don’t have to say it. His voice is extra hoarse with equal parts of disbelief.

  Accusing one of my guys isn’t at the top of my list of fun things to do. I’ve struggled with it over the months while I’ve been trying to figure out who sent the letter. “It fucking kills me to wonder if one of the guys I love like family has something to do with this, it’s why I’ve been so mad and upset. They fucked with my wife, my daughters.” I can feel the anger flaring up inside me again. “What if something happened to them? What if something happened to you or Mom? Walker or Mandy? I would never be able to forgive myself.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I know exactly how you feel. I want to warn you not to let this anger cloud your judgement. You can miss something staring you right in the face, especially when you’re this close to it. Wanting redemption is understandable and human nature. What you’ve got to watch out for. is not paying attention and paying too much attention.”

  “I know,” I hiss. “I’m stuck in this perpetual fucking limbo where I have no idea if I’m coming or going. I’m not sleeping well, I’m not communicating with anybody, and I’m suspicious of everybody. It’s about to drive me insane. I’m on edge all the time, and I feel like I can never let my guard down. I’m having dreams, horrible dreams.”

  He takes another drag off a cigarette. I’m not even sure if this is number one, number two, or number fucking fifteen by this point. All I know is I want one and I left my damn pack back at the shop.

  “You’ve got a bullseye on your back, Drew. You can’t take it easy when it comes to this type of shit. This is the stuff that gets people dead, and I’ll be damned if it’s you. We’ll figure out who this is.”

  When I take this breath, it’s easier in my lungs, not such a hard thing to do. It doesn’t feel like I’m fighting for breath while being held underwater. Drowning and burning to death are my worst fears. Knowing I have someone on my side, ready to fight for me? It makes a bigger difference than I thought it would.

  And this man, who’s already saved me once? This one I know I can trust with everything – including my life.

  Chapter Four

  Charity

  “When will Daddy be home?” Harley asks as I help her brush her hair. Even at ten, they enjoy me being around, and I’ll take this for as long as I can. One day they won’t want me to help. My mom never helped me with things like this, and I swore to myself when I had my own kids, I’d never let them wonder if other families lived better than they did. Which is something I wondered my entire childhood.

  They’ve just had their baths, and Drew still isn’t home yet, as evidenced by the questions being thrown my way. I hide my anxiety at the fact he hasn’t walked through the door by giving her a smile. Months ago, I wouldn’t have worried, but now, everything has changed.

  “Soon, he’s at Papaw’s.” I remind her that Liam and Drew had a few things to do this afternoon.

  A few things to do is the extent of what I know. The part of me who knows the man like the back of my hand, realizes that something is going on and he hasn
’t told me about it. Since last summer, things have been tense. Since the attempt, we’ve all been looking over our shoulders, the women more than the men. The only ones truthfully targeted were us, and we’re not stupid. They targeted us, to get to them.

  Almost a year of living in fear is running us all ragged. Drew most of all.

  “Why couldn’t we go with him?” Justice sits on the bed next to her sister, waiting on her turn. She loves to go visit her grandparents and was especially pissed she wasn’t included.

  “They had adult stuff to talk about.”

  That’s my go-to for everything when I don’t know the answer to the question. Back when we’d first gotten married, it bothered me that I didn’t know what was going on all the time. Now, I kind of relish the darkness I live in. If I don’t know what our threat is, I don’t know what to be scared of. It affects each of us different. Mandy is scared of everything. Me? I’m scared of nothing and suspicious of all.

  Our alarm downstairs beeps, and I relax, smiling when I hear the unmistakable sound of Drew’s boots on the stairs. Within a few moments, he’s standing in the doorway, a boyish grin on his tired face as he sees us all sitting together.

  My heart flutters in my chest and my stomach pinches as I see his grin. He’s always been able to affect me like this, even when he was a punk on the back of a second-hand motorcycle. I knew he’d change the trajectory of my life; I just didn’t know how or when I’d stop running from him. I give him a smile back, relishing the way his eyes run over my body quickly before his deep voice asks my favorite question.

  “How’re my girls doing tonight?”

  “Daddy!” they say the word together, like they do so many things. They are twins in almost every single aspect of the word. Together, they make a run for him, hurling themselves at his outstretched arms when he drops a knee to the ground.

  There’s an excited utterance of words from them. I can’t even keep up with what they’re saying, but he seems to catch most of it. When they let go of him, he stands up, his eyes meeting mine across the room, again. “I’ll finish up here if you wanna go do your stuff.”

  God, I love his voice, love everything about this man standing in front of me. “Sounds good.”

  He tells the girls to go ahead and pull their covers down. They still sleep in the same room; neither one seems ready to leave the other just yet. Which is nice because we’re using the other room in our house as storage. Once they get over the novelty of this, we’ll have to do some work. As I go to pass him in the doorway, he reaches out, his arm snaking around my waist and pulling me to him. I tuck my arms under his cut, worming my way in close to his body heat. He buries his face in my neck, next to my ear.

  “How’s my favorite girl?” His whisper is low, tinged with a dark promise for later.

  “Glad to see you,” I whisper back, burying my face in his chest. I inhale deeply, smelling leather, motor oil, and the faint scent of tobacco smoke. I’ve always been amazed I never smell sweat on him, even when it’s a million degrees outside in the Kentucky summers.

  The hand at my waist moves down to my ass, the free one buries deep in my hair, coaxing my head to tilt back. He moves, pulling back slightly, and dipping his chin down. “Fuckin’ favorite part of the day.” He smirks as he claims my mouth.

  It isn’t a kiss that gets out of control, not in front of the kids. But it’s my favorite part of the day too. He gives my ass a little tap, before he lets me go. A wink tells me he’s got plans, and I’m going to enjoy them, before he turns all his attention back to the girls.

  Leaving their room, I lean against the wall outside, trying to catch my breath. Drew Walker is a force to be reckoned with in everything he does.

  The heat of the water has caused the bathroom to fog over, and as I get out from under the water, I’m slightly disappointed. I kind of expected Drew to join me. When I leave, with a towel wrapped around my body, I see him, sitting on our bed and eating a sandwich. Probably bologna and cheese, judging by what I know is in our fridge. I feel extremely sorry for him since I haven’t been to the grocery in almost two weeks.

  “Did you not eat dinner with Liam?”

  His gaze runs from my feet up to the top of my head, and then back down again. “No, but I gotta tell ya, this sandwich is about the last thing I wanna eat after seeing you.”

  My face burns with pleasure. “You should finish it, ya know, keep your strength up.” I wink. Flirting with him is still one of my favorite things to do, even though we’ve been together for so long.

  “My strength when it comes to you isn’t in question. Trust me on that.”

  I sit down next to him, motioning for him to move his legs so I can have some more room. “You look tired.” I rub my hand against his leg, caressing him. He’s taken off his boots, but not his jeans.

  “Never tired when it comes to you.” He pushes his hips up slightly, pulling at the denim.

  “I’m serious.” I shake my head, wanting him to see I’m worried about him, that he can’t keep this up. Working all the time, not eating with us, and basically living on bachelor food. One day he’ll give out, and then what are we going to do?

  “I’m serious too.” He grabs my hand, pulling it toward his package.

  It’s then that I see the bulge behind his zipper. He’s got the biggest cock I’ve ever had, not to say I’ve had a lot, but his is one of the best. And the way he always takes care of me is one of his best qualities. He’s never been selfish when we fuck or when we make love. It’s been a little while for us, and I feel the excitement coursing through my veins. I’ve missed this between us. Being in his arms, under him, over him, or pleasuring him makes us feel closer. No matter what’s been going on in our lives, we’ve always had this, and fuck I need it. “You sure about that?” I reach up, cupping his bulge with my hand, squeezing softly.

  He punches against my palm, moaning loudly, setting the sandwich on our bedside table. “Don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop. I need you,” he growls. “Whether it be your lips wrapped around the head, or your pussy wrapped around the whole thing. I need it, babe, no matter what it is. I just need to feel you. Please don’t stop loving me and needing us,” he begs, thrusting into the palm of my hand, even though he’s still encased by his jeans.

  Tears of frustration gather behind my eyes, because I want him so much, need to feel the reckless passion only he can bring out in me. He tips his head back against the pillow, thrusting quickly into my hand, before he tilts his head back, pinning his chin to his chest.

  Our eyes meet, his looking deep into mine, and I know one thing for sure. “Never, I’ll never stop.”

  Someone would have to kill me before I’d ever stop.

  Chapter Five

  Drew

  Fuck I need this. It’s been way too long. Too long since I let all the shit go that’s been weighing me down, and enjoyed my wife. How long has it been since I wrapped my fist around her hair? Since I made her moan by shoving my cock just a little too far back into her throat? My eyes meet hers, drifting lower to her mouth. Too fuckin’ long, I remind myself. There’s a sassy smirk there, one I haven’t seen in months.

  “I’ve missed you, Drew.”

  “Missed you too.” I cup her neck in my palm, pushing my fingers up into her hair, tangling through the strands.

  The stress of the last few months have made it hard for us to get time alone together. I’m not even sure when the last initiation between either of us for sex was, and how fuckin’ sad is that? I’ve got the love of my life in front of me, in my life every damn day, and I can’t remember the last time we got naked together. Her smirk turns into a smile. She holds her finger up in front of her, getting off the bed. I stretch my arm, trying to keep connection with her, I don’t want to let it go. My eyes follow her as she walks to the bedroom door, turning the lock before twirling around to face me again.

  One thing about my wife is she’s a fucking siren. Most of the time she’s buttoned up because she has t
o be in the courtroom. There’s an expectation she has to meet when she represents her clients, but this woman in front of me is the one only I get. Her blue eyes burn with desire and a mischievousness she reserves for me. Slowly she approaches where I’m lying. One foot in front of the other, she glides across the hardwood of our bedroom floor. There’s a sway to her hips, a smirk on her face as she loosens the towel knotted in front of her tits, allowing it to fall at her feet.

  Her eyes flit down to my tented jeans, and she fucking licks her lips like she’s getting ready to have a feast. Reaching down, I wrench my belt buckle loose, unhooking it before I unbutton and unzip. Sighing in relief as I finally get some room to move, I reach into my boxer briefs with my right hand as I push them down with my left, giving my cock the room it needs. I pump the shaft slowly, groaning loudly as I fucking finally get some relief. Charity is across the room and crawling onto the bed the next time I look at her. Her hands touch my ankles, separating my legs to give her room.

  “Damn baby,” I gasp as she slithers up my body, stopping right where I’ve put my cock on display for her. A drop of precum gathers at the tip.

  “Damn is right. Your jeans open like that are putting your cock on display. I’ve gotta get a taste,” she hisses before she leans in, taking my hard length into her mouth.