Beyond Reckless

by Autumn Jones Lake

  I’m so wrapped up playing with her, I don’t notice Marcel looming over me right away. “I can take her now,” he says softly.

  The rest of the afternoon is pretty easy and when Marcel asks if I want to come home with them, the answer is yes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you this week,” I say to Charlotte for about the tenth time today.

  She squeezes my hand. “You would’ve been fine.”

  We’re at the clubhouse, waiting for Heidi and Murphy. Alexa’s happily snoozing in her bouncy chair. Z’s dogs are protectively curled next to her on the floor.

  Not even the rumble of Murphy’s bike wakes Alexa, but the dogs run to the door to greet them.

  “Hey, guys,” Heidi says, bending over to pet them quickly before rushing over to see Alexa. “Oh my God, I missed her so much. And she’s asleep.” She laughs and drops down next to Charlotte.

  “How was she? Hi, Charlotte.”

  Murphy ambles in with the peaceful sort of expression you get after a long ride. “She asleep?” he whispers, sitting next to Heidi.

  Heidi asks for every detail of what her daughter did while she was away. Charlotte fills her in and Heidi’s questioning gaze slides to me.

  No, I didn’t pawn Alexa off on my girlfriend, but she did help me out a lot. Especially when I had to go to PT and wasn’t sure who’d watch Alexa while I was busy getting tortured.

  “Well, sounds like you two are ready for one of your own,” Heidi says with a wide smile aimed at me.

  Charlotte sputters and shakes her head.

  “We’re good, sis.” I lift my chin at Murphy. “How was the trip?”

  “Good. Z shouldn’t be too far behind us.”

  Heidi can’t stop grinning and I’m almost afraid to ask. “What’s got you so smiley?”

  She lifts her shirt, showing us the freshly inked tattoo of two intertwined four-leaf clovers trailing over her ribs.

  “Jesus Christ, put that away,” I tease. I reach behind the girls and shove Murphy. “Really, bro?”

  “What? She wanted it.”

  “Hurt like hellfire,” Heidi grumbles. “But oh my God this place had the most amazing artist. I so want to go back.”

  I can’t help smiling. “Glad you two had fun.”

  Murphy jerks his head toward the door. “Help me out in the garage?”

  “Yeah.” I check with Charlotte who nods and shoos me away.

  “Everything okay?” I ask once we’re outside.

  He motions toward the garage and I help him back the bike in there so he can work on it tomorrow. “That fight’s tomorrow. Think you can go with me?”

  “Jesus Christ. You fuckin’ serious?”

  “I had it scheduled before we left.” He holds up his hands. “Last one. Promise. Big purse, though.”

  “Of course I’ll be there. We need anyone else with us?”

  “Rav said he’d go.”

  “Am I allowed to place a bet?”

  “Yeah, as long as it’s on me.”

  “Always.”

  He nods toward my bike. “Miss it?”

  “Yeah, I do, actually.”

  “Would’ve liked you to come with us.”

  “Nah. You didn’t want me there ruining your romantic getaway.”

  “Looks like you’d have someone to bring along,” he says, gesturing toward the clubhouse.

  Could I allow another woman on the back of my bike again? “Maybe,” I mutter.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  As much as I loved helping Marcel out last week, now I’m scrambling to catch up with all my work.

  It was worth it though.

  Spending so much time together. Seeing how sweet he is with his baby niece.

  I’m more in love with him than ever.

  I’m at court for a settlement conference, but the other side isn’t here yet. Anxiety swirls in my stomach the longer I wait.

  My phone buzzes and I snatch it out of my briefcase.

  Carter: Call me as soon as you’re out of court.

  Carter doesn’t send me emergency texts often, so I step out of the courtroom and into the hallway to call him.

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Mom.”

  I heave out an annoyed breath. “What now?”

  “She’s dead.”

  “What? Oh my God. Are you sure?”

  He lets out a sad sigh. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the house. The coroner just left.”

  “Jesus, why didn’t you call me right away?”

  “Honestly, Char, it all happened so fast. I got up, found her in the living room.”

  “Carter, I’m so sorry. I’m leaving right now.”

  “No. Do what you’ve gotta do. I need to get out of the house.”

  “Come to my place.”

  “I can’t right now.” He pauses. “Chuck’s being a dick.”

  “You called him before you called me?”

  “No, one of the sheriffs knows him and called.”

  I’m at a loss. Unsure of what the hell I’m supposed to do now. Weighed down by guilt since I hadn’t seen my mother in a couple weeks and had been pretty damn happy without her constant stream of criticism.

  We hang up and I step back inside the courtroom, calling over to the clerk and explaining my situation.

  On my way back to my office, I call David and ask if he can juggle my calendar for a few days.

  “Of course, I’ll take care of it, Charlotte. I’m really sorry. Do you want me to come to the funeral?”

  Funeral. I don’t even know where my mother wanted to be buried. If she wanted to be buried.

  “Charlotte?”

  “No, it’s okay David. If I don’t have to worry about work, it will be a huge help.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” he promises.

  I don’t call or text Marcel because I don’t know what to say. I realize I’d rather see him in person than tell him over the phone.

  Chuck’s pacing on the sidewalk in front of my office when I arrive. “Where the fuck you been?” he snarls as soon as he sees me.

  Taken aback by his tone I answer in a shaky voice, “Court. I left as soon as Carter called.” I should know better than to expect any comfort or sympathy from my uncle, but his attitude still stings. “What happened?”

  “They don’t know yet. The coroner thinks she had a heart attack,” he answers as he follows me inside.

  “How? She’s not that old.”

  “Does it really matter, Char?”

  No, I suppose it doesn’t.

  I sit down at the reception desk and flip through my calendar, writing out a bunch of notes for David. “I’m waiting for a friend to stop by so I can give him my office key.”

  “Good. You drop Teller?” His gruff tone makes me stop and glance up at him.

  “What? No.”

  He works his jaw from side to side while I finish my notes. I stand and run down to my office to grab a few files. When I return, Chuck doesn’t seem any calmer. Anger surrounds him.

  His way of coping? Were his feelings for my mother more than I realized?

  I’m considering what to say when he narrows his eyes and backs me against the wall, casually pressing his forearm against my throat.

  You know, casual, like it’s no big deal to cut off his niece’s air supply.

  It fucking hurts.

  Gasping, I scratch his arm. He removes his arm from my neck and I gulp for air.

  “What the—”

  He grabs my hands, pinning them in front of me, then returns his forearm to my throat.

  “What’re you doing?” I gasp out each word, shock and pain stealing my voice.

  Hot tears prickle at the corners of my eyes.

  He bares his teeth and pushes his face closer to mine. “Keep that fuckin’ prick away from your mother’s funeral. You hear me, girlie?”

  Too sho
cked to respond, I struggle to break free.

  As if he just realized what he’s doing, he drops his arm from my throat, and steps back.

  But the damage is done.

  He runs his hands through his hair. “Losing your mom’s bad enough, I don’t wanna deal with that asshole when I’m burying her for fuck’s sake,” he snarls. “I’ll break his fuckin’ skull.” He drops his voice even lower. “You don’t want to be responsible for your boy getting hurt, right?”

  I shake my head, but can’t seem to form the word no.

  “You’re not gonna say anything about our chat today either. Are you, Char?” When I don’t respond fast enough, he lightly slaps my cheek. “Maybe you should. Our clubs get into it and he’ll hate you anyway. It’ll certainly turn his brothers against both of ya. Solve all my problems.”

  Still stunned, mind spinning, I can’t speak.

  My front door opens. “Hey, everything all right? Charlotte?” David asks.

  Taking a few more steps away from me, my uncle holds up his hands.

  Hot shame races over my skin. I fluff my hair and straighten my blouse to hide any evidence of what happened. It’s an automatic, primitive response. Inside, I’m angry with myself for feeling ashamed when I didn’t do anything wrong. “Uh, David, this is my Uncle Chuck. Chuck, this is a friend of mine…” my hoarse voice trails off as the two men stare at each other.

  They couldn’t be more opposite.

  While my uncle’s a jerk, he’s also an intimidating man. Never mind the ink around his neck and rippling over his arms and hands. He towers over David.

  He holds out his hand and David’s slow to shake it. “You the one helping my niece out?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry for your loss,” David answers in his smooth courtroom tone.

  Chuck turns and smirks. “This is the type of guy you should be dating, Char. Not wasting your time with Teller.”

  Completely shaken and mortified, fire races over my cheeks. My anger at this whole situation intensifies, but before I scream fuck off and get out, he rattles off the address of the funeral home and gives me a time to meet him there. Then he pets my head like I’m a damn dog.

  I suppose it looks like a loving gesture to David, but he can’t see the painful tug Chuck gives my hair as he rubs his thumb over my cheek. “Remember what I said. Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”

  Then he’s shouldering his way out the door past a stunned David.

  “Christ, Charlotte. I didn’t know you were related to thugs.” He laughs, a thin high sound and shifts on his feet. “Now I’m scared if I mess up your cases, you’ll send him to kill me.”

  “Don’t be,” I mutter, still trying to absorb what just happened.

  Chuck threatened me.

  Worse, he threatened Marcel. The man I love. I can’t tell Marcel what went down. That my uncle hurt me. Chuck’s right. Telling Marcel about this visit could spark a war between the Lost Kings and the Wolf Knights.

  I can’t be responsible for dragging Marcel’s club, his family, into a conflict that has nothing to do with them and everything to do with my crazy blood relatives. I love Marcel too much to put him in such an awkward position. I can’t do that to him.

  My hand goes to my neck, rubbing at the soreness. How can I protect Marcel, when I can’t even protect myself?

  What am I going to do?

  PART TWO WILL BE LIVE OCTOBER 26, 2017

  It is available for pre-order NOW!

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  I hope you loved the first part of Teller’s story. The second part will be available at the end of October. I never intended for Teller’s story to be a duet. However, late into working on Beyond Reckless, I realized to do his story justice, I’d need to split it into two books. Like, after the cover reveal, almost finished with the first round of edits, late. So if you were confused about why there were two books, you didn’t miss anything, it was all me. If you care, I’ll explain why.

  The original version was over 145,000 words. My crit partners, betas, and editor all had suggestions for issues that needed to be addressed before the story could be considered “complete.” Now, my loyal readers know how much I love to leave open threads for future books. However, a lot of these threads wouldn’t make sense to tie up in After Burn (Lost Kings MC #10) because it already has enough stuff going on in it (Seriously, After Burn is going to blow your fucking mind! I’m so excited!) It wouldn’t have made sense to tie them up in Zero Tolerance (Lost Kings MC #11) either. That’s Z’s book and I think we can all agree that Z would not appreciate Teller’s business encroaching on his story! The things that were left open couldn’t be solved with a few short sentences (I mean, I guess they could’ve been, but that would’ve been sucky) and I knew people might be left unsatisfied and annoyed that they weren’t resolved.

  So, I agonized over what to do…for about a day. Because the answer was so obvious. I just didn’t want to admit it.

  Readers hate duets.

  People already bitched about the first three books being about the same couple.

  Readers really, really hate cliffhangers.

  What the fuck am I going to call it?

  Yup, I sat frozen at my desk considering all these angles.

  Then I pestered Mr. Lake, three of my betas, my editor, and my crit partners to see what they thought of the duet idea.

  But I was just stalling, because I already knew in my heart to really do Teller and Charlotte’s story justice, it needed to be in two parts. My first task was to scramble to license new photos and have a cover made. Then to book promo. All while finishing edits on Beyond Reckless. After I nailed those things down (wait, have I actually nailed them all down!?), I slowly rolled out the idea on my FB page and in my reader’s group that Beyond Reckless was now “Part One.” The reaction was mixed which I understood.

  I’m sure someone will complain that I split the book as some sort of “money grab.” In fact, I warned several people, the first person to say that to my face is getting punched in the throat (I kid, I kid, I’m not that hardcore, I swear. Mr. Lake will probably punch that person for me.)

  Some authors write duets for the cash. That’s cool. A lot of times when I’ve read them, they seem to be incomplete stories of about 50,000 words each. Basically one book, broken in half at some random point. There’s a totally legit business strategy behind that method and I’m never going to judge someone else’s business plan. However, I assure you if I had decided to write this duet for the cash, I would have planned, scheduled, and executed it a hell of a lot neater than what ended up happening. I would have avoided all the extra pain and stress this decision cost me. Truthfully, if I had published Beyond Reckless in its original 145,000 word form, I would have had to price it higher to cover the extra costs of the larger file and you would not have had a “complete” story. That felt too much like cheating my readers and I never want to do that. I love you too much!

  Part one is over 106,000 words. More than a full-size novel. Part Two looks like it will be similar in length.

  Now that you’ve read my explanation for the duet, I know some of you are waiting for an explanation about something else.

  Autumn, why the hell were you so tight-lipped about who Teller’s girl was?

  I swear, I wasn’t keeping Charlotte under wraps just to be cheeky. Honestly, her identity only mattered to loyal readers of the series. So let me tell you my reasoning. Back when I was writing Strength From Loyalty, I planned for Charlotte and Teller to end up together. Then I thought maybe Mariella…maybe Swan…Mariella. We all know what happened to Mariella. When I was finishing up More Than Miles last summer, it hit me—hard—that he was going to end up with Charlotte. Teller needed a strong woman who could stand up to him. He’s been a caretaker his whole life and he whether he knew it or not, he needed someone who could take care of herself and be strong for him. Even more exciting, I knew exactly where the conflict would come from. A rival club. I was so frickin’ excited abo
ut this angle, I couldn’t shut up about it. Unfortunately I blabbed too much. Someone close to me at the time bitched that having Teller end up with Charlotte was too much like “recycling” Rock and Hope’s story. This person wanted to see Teller with someone else. I was crushed. And seriously pissed. Because Teller and Charlotte were nothing like Rock and Hope. Where Hope had no clue about the MC world, Charlotte knows plenty. Honestly, the best way to get me to do something is to tell me not to do it. So even though I was hurt and angry, I set that aside and dug into Teller and Charlotte’s story. But I had that comment in the back of my head the entire time and I realized if someone who should’ve known better would say that, then readers might say it too. And I didn’t want people to say “Meh, another lawyer and outlaw storyline? I don’t want to read that again.” In fact, in my reader’s group when people were guessing who Teller’s girl was a few times when Charlotte’s name came up, the responses were, “No, it can’t be Charlotte, Autumn wouldn’t have another lawyer and Lost King together.”

  I evil-laughed over that. But I also fretted.

  When some of my betas (who I really consider friends at this point) asked “Why are you being so weird about telling people it’s Charlotte?” and I told them the story, they assured me that was ridiculous. Charlotte and Hope were nothing alike. But I still didn’t want to reveal who it was. I’m pretty proud of myself for keeping it under wraps for so long. I figured after making such a big deal out of it, I’d be the one to blow it. Now that the book is out in the world, people will know. Hopefully they’ll still give Beyond Reckless a chance.

  I hope you enjoyed briefly seeing Liam and Bree from Bullets and Bonfires. Liam will be back in Beyond Reason: Teller’s Story, Part Two. Maybe. We’ll see. Pretty much all of my early readers loved Carter. I’m not sure I have anything in mind for him in the future. But who knows?

  I know there’s no epilogue here, but I’m hoping that a certain scene answered who at least one of the “mystery children” belong to.