Emerald

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Emerald Page 1

by Rebekah Thompson




  Emerald

  Book 1 of the Black Hawk Gems Series

  Rebekah L. Thompson

  Copyright © 2020 Rebekah L. Thompson

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: Oliviaprodesign

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedicated to my family and loyal readers who have supported me throughout my writing.

  Thank you for your constant support and encouragement.

  I wouldn't be here without you.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  At First sight

  Acknowledgement

  About The Author

  Question and Answers:

  — A fractured past. A brand-new start. A savior in disguise —

  ✽✽✽

  Angel Emira is a single mother, struggling to raise twins in an unforgiving world. Though haunted by the traumatic events that brought her children into existence, Angel is set to move on for their sake, but headway isn’t easy when the ground, itself, decides to crumble. Crushed by forces beyond her control, she finds herself without a job—and utterly forlorn. When conferring with a close friend, an opportunity surfaces, and Angel - with lack of better idea- resolves to seek it out.

  Head of the Black Hawk Motorcycle Club, Dominic Knight doesn’t look like anyone’s saving grace. Appearances, however, mean little. It’s actions that rule existence. Angel believes she may have found the path to salvation and happiness, but nightmares from the past obstruct her hopes of claiming this dream.

  Should she wish to free herself, she’ll need to first face demons . . .

  ✽✽✽

  — Melancholy, romance, and adrenaline in equal measures —

  — Heartbreak, love, and true redemption —

  — Stunning, start to finish —

  Chapter 1

  “Stop! No!” I whimper, trying to push him away. He pushes harder, gripping me and sneering as I scream in pain.

  “No!” I scream, sitting up and looking around. I take several breaths before realizing that I’m in my bed in my apartment and not back in that basement. I reach over, grab the cup on my bedside table, turn the light on, and gulp the cool liquid down.

  Even though it’s been three years, I have nightmares of what he did to me. The pain from that time has never faded. I lost so much that day.

  “Mommy?” A little squeaky voice calls out.

  The sound makes me look up. I spot my two babies standing in the doorway to my room. Their small bodies move forward to walk over to my bed. Rosaleigh climbs onto the right side, and Reece climbs on the left side, both crawling close until they’re snuggled into my sides.

  “Are you okay, Mommy?” Reece asks, looking up with his big green eyes.

  “What was that loud noise?” Rosaleigh asks, her eyes identical green eyes staring up.

  I lost so much that day; I also gained something.

  “I’m okay, babies. Did I wake you?” I ask, curling my arms around them, and pull them close as I lay back down. Sometimes, my nightmares are worse than others, and tonight was one of the bad nights.

  Rosaleigh looks up at me with her big green eyes and her bottom lip pokes out in a pout.

  “Uh-huh. We hear you scream,” she mumbles, hugging me with her tiny arms. Reece nods, sitting up straight.

  “I wanna protect you,” he tells me. I stare down at him and my heart skips a beat. Every day, I thank God that my kids resemble me and not the monster from my nightmares. I love Reece and Rosa, and to this day, I have kept my self-made promise of loving them and keeping them safe.

  Before I had my kids, I moved to Spring Fields, where we live now, and got my job at the diner. It’s not the best, but it pays the bills. Since I don’t have a college degree, I can’t get anything better in this town.

  When they were born, I took some time off until I found a babysitter to help with the kids. I couldn’t take them to work with me and I couldn’t leave them alone. I spend my days working at the diner and my nights playing with the kids.

  Sighing, I hug my kids close and flip the light back off, laying down. I let out a shaky breath before closing my eyes and silently praying that the nightmares stay at bay for the rest of the night.

  Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee-

  I slam my hand down on the offending object. I shouldn’t have let the desperation I felt years ago affect my decision of picking a job. Now, I have to be up at four am. If I had any other choice, I would’ve chosen differently.

  A moan sounds from next to me, and I open my eyes to peer down. Rosaleigh stirs and buries her face in the pillow, so I slide Reece off my arm and rest him beside his sister.

  Once I see they won’t wake up, I quietly make my way to my bathroom to get ready. I’ve mastered the process over the last few years. I take my shower and dry my dark hair before pulling it up into a high pony. Next, I grab my work uniform and dress in the black shorts and a white button up top, which is tight and low cut.

  My boss, an old pervert, is the only person who would offer me a job when I moved to town almost three years ago. I’d noticed that most of the workers are women and we all must wear the same uniform. I try not to let his lingering stares and his too friendly hands bother me because my paychecks from the diner are all I have to keep me afloat. If I didn’t have this job, I wouldn’t be able to pay my bills.

  With a sigh, I secure the final button on my top, which lands right in the middle of the front of my bra. I slip into my shorts and grab my makeup bag. I try not to wear a ton of makeup, so I don’t attract attention; however, it makes me feel pretty.

  Soon, I make my way back out to my bedroom and grab my shoes. Another part of the uniform is the god-awful heels that my boss makes all the servers wear. They’re about three and a half inches tall, which is horrible when you’re required to be on your feet all day.

  I peek one more time at the kids before walking out of my room. My babysitter will be here soon, so I take a minute to make myself something to eat. By the time I’m done, there’s a light knock on the front door.

  Before I can even move, the lock clicks, and the door opens.

  “Mornin’,” Lacy breathes. As usual, she’s here right on time and stays quiet as she comes in. She closes the door behind her and hugs me. “Are you about to leave?” She asks. I nod and shovel my food into my mouth. I need to be at work at six am sharp. If I’m late, Mr. Peterson, my boss, will be angry.

  “Aye. I thought so,” Lacy said, her slight Scottish accent stretching the words out. As she speaks, an image of a familiar red-haired man flashes in my m
ind and I close my eyes.

  My gun clatters to the floor as Viper’s body falls, his gun dropping to the side.

  “Daddy,” I whimper, tears running down my cheeks. My protection. My safety. My father… gone.

  I stumble away from Viper, dropping to my knees. “Daddy, please,” I whisper, brushing my fingers across his cold cheek. My heart squeezes, pain restricting my chest. He’s gone, killed by the man who ruined my life.

  “Run, lass! Get yourself out!” Wolf yells. I search the warehouse to see men coming in from every door, and my heart slams in my chest. The pain is taking over, making it harder for me to breathe and move.

  “What- how?” I whimper, looking up at Wolf. The first thing I notice is the shiny black Glock in his right hand.

  “Lass, go!” Wolf growls. “You cannae stay. My bike is out front,” he tells me, this time pushing me toward the door at the other side of the warehouse.

  “What about you?” I ask. The look in his eyes tells me he’s dead serious.

  He lifts a hand and points again. “Go!”

  I do. I run.

  Gunshots sound and I duck and swerve as I run. Pain vibrates through my body, up my legs, into my torso, and up my neck. My head pounds with every gun shot.

  Wolf stands in the middle of the warehouse continuing to fight as I rush through the front door and out into the sun. The warmth I haven’t felt in weeks hits me in the face. It’s been so long since I felt the sun, but I can’t take the time to enjoy it.

  I run instead. My feet slap on the ground, almost slipping from the wetness of the morning dew. I see Wolf’s large black Harley about fifty feet away.

  I must keep running. Wolf will follow soon. He’ll know what to do. He seemed so in control inside.

  I’m not twenty feet away from the building when I’m sent flying to the grass with a scream. My ears ring and my vision blurs as an orange haze engulfs the building.

  I cry in pain and frustration as my arms give out beneath me.

  “Angel, are you okay?”

  Lifting my head, I see Lacy step closer with her face pulled into a mask of concern.

  “I’m fine. Uh, I have to do a double shift today,” I tell her. She groans then sighs, giving me a pointed stare. She may be two years younger than me, but she’s a mother hen type of girl. When I have a lot of work, she tends to worry and usually has dinner made when I get back.

  “He’s making you work two shifts for two days in a row?” She asks as I sip my water.

  “Yeah. I better go, or I’ll be late,” I tell her, hugging her before grabbing my purse. Lacy has been babysitting ever since the twins were old enough for me to leave them with a sitter. I found Lacy through a friend’s daughter at work. They go to the same college. My coworker’s daughter gave her a great reference, seeing as they used to babysit together, so I called.

  One thing led to another, and I have the best babysitter that I could ever ask for.

  I make my way down to my bike, or should I say Wolf’s bike. I climb on, start her up, and pull out of the lot.

  After the explosion, I took the bike, not knowing what else to do. Since that day, I’ve kept it in the best condition I could. I always felt bad about Wolf’s death, blaming myself. He and my father died trying to save me, and their blood is on my hands. If Viper hadn’t taken me, they would still be here.

  The thought weighs heavily on me as I climb off the bike. Thankfully, I only live ten minutes away from work.

  When I enter the diner, I clock in. 5:58 am. I’m right on time. I make my way into the back, grab a rag, and start cleaning. The nasty stare of my boss follows me around the diner, but I ignore him.

  I wouldn’t say I’m beautiful, but my curves bring a lot of stares, and I don’t think they’ll go away. Ever since I had the twins, my curves have stuck. There’s also my shorter height of 5’5” that attracts some men. They call me small and sometimes say that they “like them that way.”

  “Make sure you wipe down the whole table, Angel. Don’t miss any spots,” Mr. Peterson says exactly when I lean over. I glance up at him to find him staring at my butt. Rolling my eyes, I take a deep breath, and push down the disgust that bubbles up because of his stare. I wish I didn’t have to settle in this job, but I searched and searched, and ended up dry.

  “Angel face, when you’re done with that table, open the front for me,” Mr. Peterson says, winking. A shiver runs down my spine from the nickname. I wish he would stop calling me things like Angel face.

  I set out the last remaining menus, make sure that all the utensils are in the right place, restock the napkins, and refill the condiments.

  Once I’m finished, I turn over the “OPEN” sign.

  Soon, people filter in. Our usual early morning customers are the first ones here, so I welcome them and get their orders started. My coworker Stacy comes in at seven, smiling and waving. She takes the next person who enters, and when another group appears, I sit them at an available table.

  “Welcome to Sandy’s. My name is Angel, what can I get you this morning?” I ask with a smile. The couple looks over their menus before ordering two breakfast specials with scrambled eggs, hash browns, and orange juice.

  “I’ll bring out your drinks in a moment, and I’ll have your orders ready soon,” I say before taking their menus and walking to the clipboard. I clip their order in so that John, our cook, can see them. He smiles and nods. I continue to get another order.

  As I walk past table three, one of Mr. Peterson’s friends grabs my butt. I jump and turn. Like Mr. Peterson, he’s an older man. He smirks and winks like he’s the most handsome man in the world.

  “Keep your filthy hands to yourself,” I order him, and his eyes widen. My eyes widen too when I realize what I’d said. I curse myself and step back. I’ve had to put up with them touching me before, but I can’t handle it anymore. It reminds me too much of him.

  “What did you say, girl?” My boss growls, stalking over to me. I open my mouth to speak, but he grabs my arm and drags me away from the seating area. I pull against his tight grip; he may be older, but he’s not as frail as he looks.

  Mr. Peterson pushes the back door open and pulls me out, closing the door with a bang. I take in a breath, and he glares at me, “You’re supposed to serve our customers, not scold them.” If I wanted men to grope and touch me, I’d go work in a strip club or something. I shouldn’t have to put up with it in a diner.

  “He touched me! I will not allow some man to assault me at my job!” I grit out, and his face flushes red with anger. He stalks closer to me and grabs me again, pushing me against the wall.

  “You’ll do what you’re told. If I say let him touch you, you let him touch you,” he growls. The rough skin of his palm strikes my cheek, making my head snap to the side. The sudden pain causes me to gasp.

  Mr. Peterson smirks and lets his free hand trail down my neck to my breasts, squeezing. I gasp at the uncomfortable pain and jerk back as anger swells, making my heart pound and my blood boil.

  I snap.

  No way in hell.

  Moving as quickly as I can, I slam my knee into his gut. Peterson lurches back with a groan, his eyes squeezing shut. He doesn’t stay still long because he lifts his eyes and glares at me.

  “You’re fired!” Mr. Peterson screams, raising his hand to hit me again. He swings, but I catch his hand this time and twist it behind his back. The move twists his arm to the point of almost breaking it, and Mr. Peterson cries out in pain.

  “Good. I hope you lose customers when they find out what you’ve done. You can’t treat people this way,” I growl before pushing him away. He stumbles as I run back to the door.

  With a push, the door opens, and I pull off my nametag to throw in the trash. John gives me a concerned glance as I move through the kitchen and into the dining area. Curious eyes follow me as I pick up my jacket and pull it on. I don’t know what they think of me or what they think about what’s going on, but honestly, I don’t care anymore. I wi
ll not work somewhere where I’m not treated like a person.

  I grab my keys and purse before running out the door and jumping on my bike. I crank up the engine and ride out of the diner’s lot as anger churns through my blood. Who does he think he is? You can’t hire a woman and expect her to let everyone feel her up whenever they want to.

  I should have broken his hand. My father, if he was still here, would have been furious to see I hadn’t. He taught me to fight and to stand up for myself. If there’s one thing I remember about my dad, is that he would’ve broken the man’s hand if he’d found out what happened.

  My thoughts take over and end up filling my mind for the whole drive home. The ten-minute drive seems like an eternity, and when I get home, I park in my designated spot and cut the engine. I don’t know what I’ll do now. I needed that job.

  As I make my way upstairs, I think about the options I have. Either I live on the measly savings I’ve stored up or try to find another job that will take me. There’s also the fact that I need to figure out how to pay Lacy for watching the kids.

  “Mommy!” Rosaleigh squeals when I enter the apartment. She runs up to me, and I lift her up, placing her on my hip.

  “Hi, Mommy!” Reece waves from the kitchen counter, where he’s sitting and coloring something. Lacy looks up from what she’s doing, and her eyes widen. Several emotions cross her face, her features finally settling on a concerned frown.

  “Angel, what are you doin’ home? What happened?” She asks, trying to mask her worry as she glances at the kids. Her eyes run over me before lingering on my face. The dull throb in my cheek hints to the fact that there’s a bruise or mark.

  I let Rosa down and watch as she and Reece continue coloring. When I know they’re not listening anymore, I take a seat on the couch beside Lacy and begin explaining. She gasps in outrage. As I tell her what happened, the more uncertain and fearful I feel.

 

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