Embraced

by E. C. Land

  Embraced

  Aligned Hearts Book 1

  E.C. Land

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Embraced

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblances to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

  Embraced. Copyright © 2021 by E.C. Land. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in articles or reviews. For information, contact E.C. Land.

  Publisher: Knox Publishing

  Cover Design by Charli Childs, Cosmic Letterz Cover Design

  Editing by Jackie Ziegler, Knox Publishing

  Formatting by E.C. Land, Knox Publishing

  Proofreading by Kim Lubbers, Knox Publishing

  Created with Vellum

  For those who believe in me and keep pushing me to be the person I am today.

  Acknowledgments

  My Husband and Kiddos – To my husband who has always been the one to support our family. If he didn’t encourage me to follow my dreams and give them a chance, I wouldn’t be where I am now. He’s put up with my ramblings and throwing ideas around no matter how annoying I can be about it. Also have to be thankful for him being there to send me inspirational music when I need it most. My kiddos, who find what I do, as they put it, cool and want to know how many words I was able to get in each day. They also like to try and help me come up with plot ideas. Some are just as wicked as my own. I also enjoy the fact they come to me when they need help with finding things wrong in their own work wanting to understand better in how things are supposed to be done.

  My Brothers – No matter how much we go through, they’re always there for me. One may not be here in body but is always around in spirit. My oldest brother for being proud of me and not having a problem saying it.

  My Betas – You guys rock! Thank you all for being the first to read the stories as they come alive. It means the world to me. Especially when you all start to get mad. That’s when I know I’m doing something right. And in doing so pushing me to keep going with all the different plots that form in my head. I’m thankful to you all for being ready and willing to read and give your input.

  My Knox Publishing People – If it wasn’t for you all being helpful and encouraging when I need it, I don’t know what I’d do without you all. You’re all wonderful in your own right and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The biggest thing I’ve got to say I’m thankful for most, is the fact I’m able to be around those who understand the way my mind works. Each and every one of you have earned a special place in my life, one way or another.

  Liz – My sister from another mister, my best friend and Publisher/Boss. You’re my go to when I need it. If not for you, I don’t know if I’d ever be where I am today with my writing. Thank you for always pushing me and encouraging me.

  Diane – Without you taking everything on for me, I wouldn’t be able to focus the way I do on my writing. Thank you for everything you do. You’re not just my PA, you’re my friend and I couldn’t ask for a better friend than you.

  Kim and Jackie – I know I’m a pain in the rear; however, you both put up with me. Thank you both for taking on all of my work. I love the fact I work with you both on each of them. Also, the fact when it comes to something I miss, you help me understand how to correct it, so it doesn’t happen again.

  Trigger Warning

  This content is intended for mature audiences only. It contains material that may be viewed as offensive to some readers, including graphic language, dangerous and sexual situations, murder, rape, and extreme violence.

  Proceed with caution. This book does entail several scenes that may very well be a trigger to some.

  Also, tissues are a must with other scenes.

  Not for the faint at heart.

  If you don’t like violence and cannot handle certain subjects, then this is not a book you’ll want to read.

  Playlist

  Dead Man Walking – Crucifix

  My Way – Crucifix

  The Dreamer – Crucifix

  Desperado – Crucifix

  Traveler – Upchurch

  Dreams of Mine – Demun Jones

  Lions Den – OverTime

  Kill for Mine – OverTime

  In the Shadows – Jelly Roll

  Just Hold On – Savannah Dexter ft. Adam Calhoun

  Chernobyl – Crucifix

  Miss Me – Hard Target

  Irish Translations

  A chonách san ort – it serves you right

  go dtachtar le d’anáil thú – that you may choke on your breath

  mo chuisle – my pulse

  fuck mo shaol – fuck my life

  Da – Father/dad

  iníon/iníonacha beloved – beloved daughter/daughters

  deirfiúr beag – little sister

  soith – bitch

  bréagán – whore

  Embraced Hearts

  The beating of my heartbeats

  Thumping for the one

  It carries me forward

  My heart can break

  As easily as it can heal

  If it breaks the pain will hurt

  Yet it will heal at the one who embraces

  No matter who it were to be

  The one who holds my heart

  Will forever hold the key

  The key that heals the pain

  Along with hold it close

  Embraced hearts are one

  One and the same

  Connection between two souls

  That will love and embrace

  ~E.C. Land

  Prologue

  Bridget

  “Where are you going, Bridget?” my little sister, Alison, asks as she watches me hurry around my room throwing things on my bed to pack.

  “Anywhere to get away from him,” I say in a hushed voice. The last thing I need is for my da to find me leaving. I refuse to be a part of a bargain. I’m a person, not an object to be traded. Especially not to some man I don’t even know. I refuse to be treated as a possession when I have a mind of my own.

  “Can I come with you?” Alison whimpers. She knows what it’s like, we’re only three years apart. She’s about to turn eighteen and our da would soon start looking for someone for her to marry as well.

  It’s what happens when your da is the Boss of the Irish mafia in Ireland. See he wants his daughters to go to the higher ranking associates. In our world being married to one of the Boss’ daughters not only secures their place in the organization but places them in the position for when my da is ready for retirement.

  I, for one, don’t want to be used for a place holder and allow some man I don’t know to use my body to breed more soldiers for the cause. I may have been raised in this world but don’t want any part of it. I want the freedom to be who I want to be without having to worry if I cross someone I’m not supposed to.

  This is why I’m packing as much as I can in a knapsack. I intend to leave this life and go to America, where I can hopeful
ly be free of it all. Away from the ridiculousness of this world I was born into.

  “I’m sorry, Alison, if we both go Da will find us for sure. You know he won’t let us both go. Not without a fight. With you not being eighteen yet we have time to figure something out for you,” I say, leaving the rest unsaid. I feel horrible about leaving my sister, but I have no choice. My heart clenches at the thought of never seeing her again as I shove the last few things I’m able to fit into my knapsack.

  A few changes of clothes. Money. My passport and other IDs.

  With tears in my eyes, I reach out and pull Alison into my arms, embracing her for what must be the last time. Though I’ll miss Alison I have to do this. I won’t be subjected to becoming someone’s wife, not when I’ve yet to live.

  Pulling away from our embrace, I pick up my knapsack and head for the window. If I were to chance going through one of the doors, I’ll never make it off the property. This leaves me with only one choice, to climb out the window like some bandit in the night.

  “Call me when you get somewhere safe,” Alison murmurs as I throw a leg over and find my footing in one of the trellis holes.

  Hopefully this thing will hold me. At five foot nine you wouldn’t be able to classify me as overweight if you looked at me, but my doctor, the jerk he is, says I could afford to lose a few extra pounds.

  My thought of his advice being he can kiss a monkey’s rear. Just because I’m not a size zero doesn’t mean I’m fat. I simply have curves in all the right places with the hourglass figure I inherited from my mother’s side of the family. What’s the saying I’ve heard many times before, men prefer a woman who is well endowed. Big tits and nice round rump. Yeah, that’s it. Where I’m more filled out my sister is lacking, but she still has a way to go. And plus she takes after our father’s side in looks with her darker hair. Swear my body is the only thing I love about myself. The rest of me, from my mismatched eyes, lips, my small nose, and my curly blonde hair frustrate me to no end.

  All the way up until I’d finished school other girls would pick on me. If it weren’t for my last name, I’m sure they would have done more than make snide comments about my appearance. I’d never been happier to finish school. Besides Alison, I didn’t have anyone to talk to, and now I’m about to be on my own.

  Nodding to my sister, I begin my descent down the trellis doing my best to avoid the thorns of the vines which have been growing up the side of the house for years. My father has a gardener who trims them back when they start to go haywire.

  Making it down to the bottom I sigh before turning around only to come face to face with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life. I mean gorgeous with his hair neatly in place, beard trimmed close to his face, and even in the dark of night I could see just how beautiful his dark eyes are. Bonus for him is he’s tall. I barely come up to his chin in height.

  “Going somewhere, mo chuisle?” the man asks, smirking at me as he stands there with his arms crossed over his chest.

  Holy mother that accent though. I’ve never heard a man speak with such a baritone, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s American.

  Glancing up and down his body, I take in the slacks he’s wearing to the shirt he has on with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. The way his shirt conforms to his chest I find myself wanting to run my hands along it.

  Um, yeah, hello, we’re trying to get out of here, and this guy is a complete stranger. My brain says, trying to regain control of my body.

  “Ahh, yes, I am, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be heading that way,” I mumble as I dart my gaze away from the godly looking man.

  “Be as it may, mo chuisle, I don’t think I can let you do that,” he states, a frown marring his face as he uncrosses his arms and takes a step toward me.

  “Why’s that?” I ask quietly, my heart racing in my chest. I don’t know who this man is but the second he’s standing toe to toe with me and his arms come around my waist, my libido goes into overdrive.

  Mother of all holy, what is this man doing to me?

  “Because, my beautiful Bridget, I’m not about to let my fiancée escape from me before I even get to taste her luscious lips,” he murmurs right before claiming my mouth with his.

  Oh, for the love of God, this is the man I’m supposed to be marrying!

  Great, just freaking great.

  Chapter 1

  Dean

  Two weeks earlier

  Pressing the end button on the phone call, I lean my head back against the headrest of my chair and groan. Times like these are when I wish I could merely grab my gun and put it to a motherfucker’s head, pull the trigger and walk away. However, I can’t do that to my own damned father. No matter what an ass he is for sticking to the old ways rather than evolving with the rest of us. Then again, it’s what happens when you’re part of the mafia.

  Arranged marriage my ass. Fuck if I’m marrying some uptight, spoiled cunt who can’t tell the difference between up and down. The only thing the women from my world understand is they’re to marry, listen to what they’re told, and give their husbands children. They’re not supposed to work unless given explicit permission from the men involved in the contract.

  Damnit, I need to relieve this tension before I blow. Getting out of my seat, I head down the hall toward the main room of the club. Thankfully I can do this now without closing my eyes to avoid seeing my cousin, Jordan, on stage dancing.

  I’d hired her when she was eighteen. Of course, she didn’t know who I was at the time, her dickwad of a dad kept her from the rest of the family secluding her from the world. I didn’t even know she was under a contract. I’d thought with my grandfather disowning Cormac anything to do with him had been voided. Including any contracts for his daughter.

  The fucked-up part of it was, I’d given her the job with the hope I could build her trust up enough to tell me what had been going on with her at the time. She seemed scared of her own shadow. By Jordan working for me I felt I could somewhat protect her in a way. Now she’s with a member of the Devil’s Riot, so I don’t have to worry as much. Granted, I’d been leery at first about the MC being that I knew her man was close to the Rogue Drifters MC.

  You don’t mix with different clubs unless they’re allies or on neutral territory. The same goes for the mafia. We tend to stay away from others unless absolutely needed. Although I’ll admit, I’ve worked with Grigory a few times after he moved here from Russia to replace his predecessor. He’d called to speak with me about a possible business arrangement. Which we’d both agreed upon, and honestly, it’s been a pretty damn good setup between the two of us.

  “Mr. O’Connell,” Jewel’s sultry voice draws me out of my thoughts as she calls me by my last name. I don’t normally fuck my dancers as I try to keep business and pleasure separate. However, when it comes to Jewel and Ember, they’re my go-tos when I need to release the pent-up tension in my body. Not that I can’t go out and find someone, I’m simply a busy man and these two women are always at my beck and call when I need them.

  “Jewel, what can I do for you?” I ask, giving her a knowing grin. She likes to have to beg to be fucked, and usually, I have Ember do most of the work while I watch. Sometimes I’ll allow Jewel to suck my dick until Ember has her begging for more.

  “More like what can I do for you. You seem so tense,” she says, stepping closer, running her slender fingers across my chest until her hands cup my dick from the outside of my pants.

  My dick twitches at her touch, ready and raring to fuck the shit out of this woman. “When’s your next set?” I ask.

  “I don’t go back on for an hour, I’m supposed to be doing my rounds with the patrons, but I’ve been missing your dick, Mr. O’Connell. Won’t you fuck me, please?” she purrs.

  “What about Ember?” I step back from Jewel’s touch. I’m not giving her the chance to reach for what she wants most. She knows I don’t allow her to have it unless I say.

  “Ember’s on stage right now. I could h
elp take care of you without her.” Pouting, Jewel tosses a glance over her shoulder where Ember is indeed dancing.

  Out of all my dancers she’s the best one I have since Jordan no longer works here. Though the crowd loves Ember, and even Jewel, they miss Jordan aka Vixen. I need to possibly see if I can’t find someone to exceed my cousin’s talents on the stage.

  Nodding in annoyance, I give a tap to Jewel’s lip as she continues to pout. “Soon as Ember’s done with her set, both of you come find me. Make sure to tell Kit-Kat you’re done for the night,” I say, knowing the woman was gonna want to kill me. It’s why I try to limit the times I intervene in the schedule.

  Kit-Kat, as the manager, can be a ruthless bitch when it comes to the girls. She doesn’t take their shit nor allow them to get away with anything they’re not supposed to do. It’s why I keep her around. That and the woman is a damn good friend to have. Especially when it comes to the other aspect of what she does for me. Kit-Kat is our go-to cleaner for the jobs we don’t need others knowing about.

  I’ve seen her work as she’s seen mine. When it comes to getting my hands covered in blood, I wouldn’t be where I am today, at the age I am, if not for me handling the jobs like a soldier. My father didn’t simply hand me my position and say ‘congrats, you’re now in charge’. No, I started at the bottom and worked my ass off to prove myself. By doing this, I earned the respect of the men who answer to me.