Cannon (Savage Kings MC - South Carolina Book Series 5)

by Lane Hart

  “Because she didn’t want anything to do with him and was getting into some legal trouble.”

  “What kind of legal trouble?” I asked. He’s so well-informed, I feel like I should be taking notes!

  “Nothing major, just minor shit like public intoxication charges.”

  “And the chief didn’t want her trouble to come back and make him look bad,” I guess.

  “Exactly. As soon as my brother brought her back, she went straight to rehab.” Conrad suddenly closes his mouth and then adds, “You can’t use that, though. Hannah went through some bad shit for a while, but she’s sober now.”

  “I would never drag her through the mud just to help my campaign,” I assure him.

  “Good, because if you do, you’ll lose the Kings’ support,” he grits out.

  I hold up my palms in front of me. “Trust me, I would never stoop that low. But I’m still not entirely convinced that having the Savage Kings’ support would help more than it would hurt. Especially if that kidnapping story comes out and the chief tries to twist it to make your brother the bad guy.”

  “Did you know that a little over a year ago, the Kings helped find and save four women who had been kidnapped right off the city’s streets?”

  “No,” I say with a shake of my head. “That was before I moved back…”

  “They were being held in storage units and had been gang raped by four sick motherfuckers.”

  “Jesus.” My mind couldn’t even comprehend that kind of violence.

  “Roman, our president, went to Bailey for help when he was still the police chief. He didn’t want us to share the video of the van used in the kidnapping to try and catch the bastards. He said he thought it might be bad for tourism. So, we found them on our own with help from the original Savage Kings up in North Carolina.”

  “He seriously refused to help?” I say in outrage.

  “The man doesn’t care about anyone but himself,” Cannon says. “But that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to explain is that the Savage Kings may not do things by the book all the time, but we’ve got a good reputation in the city. People may fear us, but they also respect us and know that we’ll do things that most would be too squeamish to do, including the local police department.”

  “Did you ever find the men responsible for the kidnappings?” I ask in concern.

  “They won’t ever hurt anyone again.”

  “Because they’re in prison or because they’re dead?”

  Cannon doesn’t meet my eyes when he says, “I heard one of them killed himself and the other three left town.”

  “Then how do you know they won’t hurt anyone again?”

  “Because if I had to guess, all four of them are currently rotting in hell.”

  I know better than to ask if the Savage Kings killed them because Cannon wouldn’t tell me the truth if they had, and I’m not sure I want to know. I can’t even argue that they didn’t deserve it.

  “So, what else do you know about Bailey that could help me?”

  “Well, he closed down all of our club’s businesses through either fire code violation or city permits being revoked. Not to mention he had someone drive a big ass vehicle through our Harley dealership that I managed.”

  “Why do you think it was him?” I ask.

  “We don’t have any proof. The cameras were all shot out and security equipment destroyed. But all that went down the same night my brother beat his ass for what he did to Hannah.”

  “You mean having her kidnapped?”

  “No, something else. Something much worse. And no, I can’t give you that. But Conrad only did what any of us would’ve done to protect the woman he loved.”

  I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t.

  “Well, this has been very informative. Thank you,” I tell him, genuinely pleased with the intel he’s given me. It makes me wish I had been a little nicer to him yesterday and earlier this morning.

  “Least we can do,” Cannon replies. “Guess our next topic should be the fundraiser event.”

  “Okay,” I agree.

  “But first, and I mean no disrespect, but we’ve got to do something about your…image, Madison.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, sounding defensive again as if a switch has been flipped.

  “You’re too formal, too uppity like this,” he says, waving his hand in my general direction. “Women won’t like you. And while men will definitely find you attractive, it’ll take more than a pretty face to convince them to vote for you.”

  “I’m not changing who I am. They can either vote for me or vote for him.”

  “That’s not exactly the attitude needed to win an election,” he says with a chuckle. “And I’m not saying you need to change your ideals or whatever, just how you choose to present them.”

  “And what do you propose I do differently?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “First, you have to stop acting like you think you’re better than everyone else. Maybe you are, but that doesn’t get you any votes from the middle class.”

  “I don’t think I’m better than anyone!” I exclaim.

  “Sure, you do,” Cannon says when he leans forward in his chair and rests his forearms on my desk. “You barely looked at me yesterday before you decided I wasn’t worth your time. And now, you’re singing a different tune.”

  “I’m not…what are you talking about?”

  “You’re a whole lot friendlier when I’m helping you. But isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I thought the first rule for all politicians was to say how much you want to be elected so that you can help others.”

  “I guess that’s true…”

  “But you have other motivations for wanting to be mayor.”

  “I guess I do. Is that so wrong?” I ask in a huff.

  “I don’t know. I guess it depends on what they are.” Cannon leans back in his chair again and then motions with his hand. “Come on, let me hear them.”

  “Well, first and foremost, unlike Bailey, I’ve actually studied politics and have a law degree.”

  Cannon makes a sound like a buzzer. “There you go again, thinking you’re better than him because you’ve got a degree and he doesn’t.”

  “I have two degrees,” I correct him.

  “And he has, what, ten years or more of experience running a police department. I’m guessing you haven’t ever been in charge of anything…”

  “I was the campaign manager for a state senator who just won reelection.”

  “Not bad,” Cannon says, not exactly sounding impressed. “But what else have you got?”

  “I’ve got ideas on how to grow the city’s tourism and bring more arts to the area.”

  “Let me guess, you’ll pay for all that by raising taxes?”

  “Well, the city does have one of the lowest tax rates in the state!” I point out.

  “And that’s because all hell will break loose if it goes up. The hotels and shit already get taxed heavily as it is.”

  “Our property tax rate is incredibly low compared to the rest of the country! You just finished telling me how our former police chief wanted to ignore a string of kidnappings because it would be bad for tourism. Look, every year our crowds get larger and rowdier while our beaches get dirtier and our infrastructure continues to age. Our police are underfunded in this area, our emergency response teams are several minutes slower to respond than the national average, and don’t even get me started on our local educational needs and test scores. Yes, our local businesses are making great profits, but they are doing so at the expense of the common citizen who lives here all year round.”

  “You want to expand the police department, even though under Bailey their corruption ran rampant?” Cannon asks me in disbelief.

  “Especially because of Bailey’s corruption!” I snap back at him. “When we get a new chief, I’m going to ride him like my ow
n personal little pony to clean up the ranks and reform the department. I’ll be on him from the moment he wakes up every day until I finally let him pass out at night until it’s done!”

  Cannon recoils in his chair slightly, and for a moment I think he’s going to make some comment about riding him like a pony. He actually surprises me this time, however.

  “I’m not trying to argue with you,” Cannon says.

  “I find that hard to believe since we’ve been arguing for the past hour!”

  “All I’m trying to do is suggest that you lighten up a little bit. Dress more like a twenty-something single woman and less like a sixty-year-old businesswoman.”

  I gasp in outrage. “For one, I am not going to try and get votes by dressing like a slut. And two, it’s winter!”

  “If you hold events inside, then you’ll be nice and warm,” he says. “That’s where you went wrong yesterday. Having an event outside this time of year when everyone is missing the summer sun isn’t going to bring crowds.”

  “Shit,” I mutter.

  “What?” he asks.

  “I think…I think you’re right,” I reply, hating the words that come out of my mouth.

  “You think I’m right? Did I hear that correctly?” He leans forward, holding his ear toward me.

  “Oh, shut up,” I tell him with a roll of my eyes and a smile I can’t help.

  “If I was right about that, then maybe you should consider that I’m right about other things too.”

  I don’t like that thought very much, but it does make me reconsider.

  “I’ve only got one shot at this,” I explain to him. “If I screw up and lose…”

  “You’ll what? Be stoned to death by your opponent? Get exiled from the city? If you lose, then you run again in a few years.”

  “It’s not that simple, but forget it.” There’s no way I’m going to explain to him that, if I lose, it’ll be the huge failure that will haunt me like a ghost for the rest of my life, proving that I don’t have what it takes to be a leader, that all the time I spent on a higher education was a huge waste.

  “How about this, for the fundraiser event with the Savage Kings, you take some of my advice and try it out. What do you say, just to see what happens?”

  “Okay,” I agree since that doesn’t seem like a big deal. How many people could the Savage Kings get to attend a political event? Fifty? Maybe a hundred at most.

  “Okay?” Cannon repeats as if he doesn’t believe I’ll compromise.

  “We have a deal. It’s the least I can do since you’re helping organize the event.”

  “Thank you for trusting me,” he says with a smile that reaches his blue eyes, making him look so damn gorgeous it catches me off guard. My lower belly tightens with the kind of need I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so strongly before.

  Cannon is a dangerous man, not just because of his association with the Savage Kings but because of the effect he has had on me in such a short amount of time. If I’m not careful, I could find myself letting my guard down and falling right into his bed like so many women before me. But I’m stronger than the barista or any of his other one-night stands, because nothing is more important to me than my career – especially not spending one night of my life with a well-known player.

  Chapter Ten

  Madison

  While the prospects and Cannon were incredibly helpful today, I’m still not sure how I feel about them hanging around right outside my townhouse all night. For one, it’s freezing cold. That shouldn’t be my first problem with it, but it is. And it’s why I walk over to the SUV where Jake and Lucas have just slipped inside; Lucas in the front passenger seat and Jake in the back. The complex’s assigned parking spaces are all full, so they had to park along the curb.

  “This is really unnecessary,” I say to Cannon when he rolls down the driver’s side window. The windows are fogging up with the heat going full blast inside.

  “Would you rather us camp out in your house with you?” he asks with a knowing smirk.

  “No!” I say almost too quickly, because dammit, the longer I’m around him, the more I want to touch him and have him touch me. This situation is wrong on so many levels.

  “Didn’t think so,” Cannon says, his face blank and jaw tight because he thinks my refusal is because I don’t want him, personally, anywhere near me.

  “You’re still not leaving, are you?” I ask.

  “Nope.”

  “And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

  “We’ve already covered the one and only other option,” Cannon responds.

  “Then fine. Goodnight,” I tell them as I turn away and start walking across the parking lot to my townhouse.

  There are enough lights from the street posts that, when I pull my keyring from my coat pocket, I can figure out which key to use for the lock in the darkness. I turn the knob and push it open with one last look over my shoulder at the SUV before I step inside and close the door behind me.

  I’ve just slipped the keys back into my coat and taken it off to hang it in the closet when an arm grabs me around my waist, picking me up off my feet so fast my keys hit the floor. My scream of surprise echoes around us for about two short seconds as I try and lunge out of his arm toward the door. But then a hand clamps over my mouth, tasting like sweaty leather and cigarettes as he pulls me further into the entry way until I’m facing the opposite wall where a tall figure is standing in the dark. I can’t see much of him, because he’s either in all black or dark clothes with a ski mask hiding his face. My screams are muted so that no one, not even Cannon, who is right outside a few feet away, can hear them.

  I try and push at the arm over my mouth and the one on my waist, but they’re so heavy and strong I can’t even move them an inch.

  “Stop struggling and listen to me closely, bitch,” the man across from me says before he comes closer until the front of his body is pressed to the front of mine and I’m sandwiched between the two strange men. If I thought that was bad, it was nothing compared to what happens next when the guy in front presses something to my throat. Something cold like steel. I’m guessing it’s a knife. A very huge knife. All I can see in the darkness is a gleam in his eyes like he would slice my throat and enjoy it.

  “You’re going to drop out of the race for mayor, and you’re going to do it by tomorrow, or me and my buddy here will be back. Tomorrow night we’ll slit your throat after we have a little fun with you. Do you understand me?”

  I’m trembling all over so hard that it takes more effort than normal to nod my head. I’m not even sure what all I’m agreeing to, but I would agree to anything if it means getting them to let me go and leave. The stupid election seemed so much more important a few hours ago, but now it’s nothing compared to my life.

  The guy behind me grunts and then speaks for the first time, his voice scratchy like a heavy smoker. “I don’t want to wait that long. How about we have a little fun with her tonight?”

  I’m already shaking my head no when the arm banded around my waist slides up to squeeze my breast.

  “Yeah, okay,” the man in front of me says when he takes a step back. “But make it fast!”

  “Oh yeah,” the man behind me agrees, his breath growing heavy next to my ear. I lift my foot and kick back his leg as hard as I can, hoping my stiletto heel makes him bleed. “Fucking bitch! Put the knife back to her throat before I drop her!”

  The other man sighs, but then he’s back again, the knife barely brushing my skin but hanging there like a warning that if I move too much, it’ll slice me open. My entire body freezes in warning, knowing without a doubt he would do it.

  I’m momentarily distracted by the knife when the arm on my breasts yanks my suit and dress shirt underneath apart, sending several buttons to the floor. The leather hand is then cool on my skin, cupping me through my bra roughly before it starts moving lower, down my stomach to the top of my pants.

  Cannon

  Madison has just
slipped into her townhouse and the window on the driver side of my SUV is about a quarter of an inch from the top when I hear what I think is a woman’s scream, making the hairs on my arms stand up. My left hand on the console freezes while my right hand automatically goes for the gun I shoved into my hoodie pocket. “Did ya’ll hear that?” I ask the prospects.

  “Hear what?” Jake asks from the backseat when he leans up between the front seats.

  “I didn’t hear anything,” Lucas agrees.

  “It sounded like…I think someone just screamed,” I tell them when a horrible thought suddenly hits me. “We didn’t check inside of Madison’s townhouse!” Flinging my door open without even taking the time to kill the ignition or shut it, I yell to the prospects, “Come on!”

  I don’t look behind me to see if they’re following, I just run at full speed to Madison’s townhouse. On the way, I realize how stupid I’ll feel if I’m wrong; but if I’m right…

  Her front door is shut and there are no lights on inside seeping through the blinds on the front windows. Unless she likes walking around in the darkness, she should’ve flipped them on by now.

  I bang the side of my fist on the door and yell, “Madison? Is everything okay?” because I assume the door is locked. But when I try the knob, it turns easily. Shit! She wouldn’t have left her door unlocked, would she? I vaguely notice the heavy footsteps and panting behind me, telling me the prospects have caught up when I realize I’m holding my gun in my hand and didn’t remember pulling it out of my hoodie. I throw the door open hard enough that it slams against the wall, mostly to make sure there’s no one hiding there, but also to make enough racket to warn Madison we’re coming inside in case she’s in the back.

  She’s not. I find her right inside the foyer sandwiched between two men who are nearly my size, both with masks over their entire faces. Three sets of shocked eyes turn to me before one of them yells, “Run!” to the other and they take off through the house.

  My feet instinctually start to follow, but then Madison makes a whimpering sound as she starts sinking down to the floor.