Spark of Time: MacKenny Brothers Series Book 5: an MC/Band of Brothers Romance

by Kathleen Kelly

  Kathleen Kelly

  Spark of Time

  MacKenny Brothers Book 5

  Kathleen Kelly

  Copyright © 2021 Kathleen Kelly

  All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Kathleen Kelly is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs, musicians, or artists mentioned in this book. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  All efforts have been made to ensure the correct grammar and punctuation in the book. If you do find any errors, please e-mail Kathleen Kelly kathleenkellyauthor@gmail.com

  Thank you.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older.

  Editing by Swish Design & Editing

  Proofreading by Swish Design & Editing

  Book design by Swish Design & Editing

  Cover design by Clarise Tan at CT Cover Creations

  Cover Image Copyright 2021

  First Edition 2021

  All Rights Reserved

  How well do you know the man you married?

  Isabelle knows all men have issues, but when you’re in love, you make allowances. But what do you do when those issues turn into bruises or worse?

  Run.

  Jamie’s family is part of an MC. He may not approve of them, but flesh and blood always come first.

  For Jamie, Isabelle is someone he wants to get to know, but she has secrets and boundaries which he’s finding hard to get through. He’s falling for her, but she keeps him at arm’s length and firmly in the friend zone.

  Jamie is sure he can make Isabelle happy. Will the family he keeps at a distance help him? Or will her secrets and past destroy them all?

  From USA Today Bestselling Author Kathleen Kelly comes book five in her MacKenny Brothers series.

  For the people in my life who are there through thick and thin.

  Who accept and love me for the quirky person I can be.

  You know who you are.

  I love each and every one of you.

  Friendship isn’t about who’s been here the longest, it’s about who came and never left my side and stood next to me weathering the storm.

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Connect With Me Online

  About the Author

  Isabelle

  His fist connects with my stomach, and all the air rushes out of me. I crumple to the floor, and panic paralyzes me as I try to breathe again. But he doesn’t leave me alone, and his shoe-clad foot slams into my side, sending me across the slippery floor. The floors he had refinished to a dark, almost black stain, as he thought it looked more expensive. I wanted them lighter to disguise the dirt, but he accused me of being lazy.

  Another blow lands on my upper leg, and I manage to draw in enough breath to yelp.

  “Honestly, Belle, see what you made me do?” He’s pacing now, a sign that I might be over the worst of it. His hands rake through his hair as he looks down at me. “Why do you have to be such a bitch?”

  The air in my lungs feels like heaven, and I go up on my knees, in a begging position, head bowed. “I’m s-sorry,” I whisper.

  It’s better to apologize and hope he believes it than to argue with him, or worse still, fight back. Those beatings are the worst. He drops to his knees in front of me, his hands cup my face and tilt my head back, so I’m staring into his blue eyes.

  I thought him handsome once—light brown hair streaked blond by the sun, a tan, and a smile that could make you melt. But that was three years ago.

  How can he profess to love me when he treats me this way?

  How did I ever let myself fall for his lies?

  Chase Kelly appeared to have it all—old money mixed with his determination to make it on his own, to be self-made. Of course, it’s easy when you’re one of the wealthiest families in Chicago. If you don’t make it on your own, you can always rely on family to pick you up and put you back on top of the pile.

  His lips touch mine, and I force myself to remain still. I want so very much to cringe away from him, but if I do that, he’ll keep hitting me.

  “That’s my girl.”

  With tears on my cheeks, I smile at him. “I must look a mess.”

  His eyes search my face, looking for deceit or his perception of it. I try to smile wider as my sideburns—it feels like he’s broken some ribs this time.

  “You love me, don’t you, Belle?”

  Belle. How I fucking hate being called Belle. My name is Isabelle, but from the moment we got married, he started calling me that horrid nickname. And he introduces me to his friends as Belle, to the point where I’ve stopped correcting people. Well, everyone except his sister, Morgan, who calls me by my full name. I think she knows I married a monster, not that she’d ever admit it.

  Chase slides his hands down my body and helps me to my feet. The burning increases and my leg throbs, but I know better than to show my pain. He inflicts it, but he likes to pretend that he hasn’t hurt me, that I’m okay. Chase’s fingers dig into my sides and he pulls me closer to him, so I can feel his erection.

  My stomach rolls, and for a moment, I think I’m going to be sick but swallow it back down like I’ve done so many times before. Chase puts his hand in mine and pulls me toward the bed, undoing his belt as we walk. Part of me wants to run or fight, but I can’t win. I’ve tried. It’s easier to let him do what he wants and hope he won’t hurt me further.

  His pants hit the floor with a thud, his erection glistening in the light.

  I lay on the bed, close my eyes and pretend I’m anywhere but here.

  Isabelle

  Three Years Ago…
>
  The Kelly family is old money and one of the wealthiest families in Chicago. They made their money in shipping. Importing and exporting, and eventually, they expanded into cargo ships on the Great Lakes, connecting all the larger towns. I have no idea how they heard about my small events business, but I’m so grateful for the work.

  Chase Kelly hired me to cater his party and make sure his guests were wined and dined. He has a small luxury yacht manufacturing business, and tonight they are launching a hybrid yacht that uses solar as well as diesel.

  He’s incredibly excited about it. Chase claims it’s the way of the future. He’s so good-looking and self-assured. He’s as comfortable in a room full of millionaires as he is talking to the workers in his plant. I’ve never met anyone quite like him.

  Chase is six foot three with a swimmer’s body, light brown hair, blue eyes, and a smile that gives me butterflies. This party has been six months in the making. We’ve flirted back and forth but always kept it professional, but tonight it all ends. Tomorrow I’ll go back to event organizing on a much smaller scale, and he’ll go back to all the pretty socialites who flutter around him like bees in search of honey, or should I say money.

  “Ms. Jones, you should try enjoying yourself.”

  Looking up, Chase Kelly is smiling down at me. “I will. When the night is over.”

  Chase takes my clipboard off me and places it on the table, then he puts his hand in mine and guides me to the dance floor. Like a lost child, I let him, even though it’s extremely inappropriate.

  As with everything else this man seems to do, he dances like he was born to do it. We glide around the floor, and I’m lost in those pretty blue eyes.

  “You’ve done an amazing job.”

  Smiling, I shake my head. “You left nothing to chance. I simply brought your vision to life. You knew what you wanted.”

  “Indeed, I do.”

  His double meaning makes me blush, and I break eye contact with him. “Everyone seems to be having a good time. Have you sold many of your hybrids?”

  Chase chuckles. “Nice change of subject there.” I look back up at him. “And yes. We’ve sold two, maybe three, which, for a small brokerage, is amazing.”

  He seems quite pleased with himself. I smile widely at him, and the slow song comes to an end.

  Pulling out of his grasp, I step back. “I should get back to work.”

  “Your team is doing beautifully without you, and all the hard work is done. Now, it’s about having a good time.”

  Another slow song starts, and he embraces me again. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Chase Kelly, it’s that he’s used to getting his own way.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  Tomorrow is Saturday, and I normally spend it with my older sister, Charlotte. She’s twenty-four, mentally impaired, and has the mental acuity of a teenager. Charlotte lives in a group home. She’s really happy there but looks forward to our weekly visits.

  “I’m busy.”

  Chase raises an eyebrow. “Boyfriend?”

  “No,” I laugh. “Family.”

  “Surely, you can see them anytime?”

  “It’s my sister. I’m seeing her tomorrow. It’s not often I have a Saturday off.”

  “Invite her. If she’s anything like you, she’ll fit right in.”

  I shake my head, and Chase scowls at me. “She’s not like me. Charlotte is learning impaired.”

  The scowl disappears, replaced with empathy. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” I reply with a shake of my head. “Charlotte was born this way. It’s my normal. And she’s amazing.”

  “I’d love to meet her.”

  This takes me by surprise. Over the years, the one thing I’ve come to understand is that people like Charlotte make ‘normal’ people uneasy. Most of my boyfriends met her after some time, and if they made her uncomfortable or I didn’t like the way they treated her, they never got a second chance with either of us. Charlotte is important to me, as she’s my only living relative. Mom and Dad died in a plane crash five years ago.

  “I don’t know.” I shake my head.

  Chase steps back from me. “I understand. Perhaps another time?” He smiles down at me and walks away.

  Why do I feel like I’ve failed some test? Watching him go, he moves from group to group, shaking hands and smiling like a shark trolling through the shallows. The imagery causes me to shudder, and I walk back to the table and pick up my clipboard.

  One server, Joe, stands next to me and holds out the drinks tray. “Here you go, boss, help yourself.”

  I take a glass of bubbles. “I really shouldn’t.”

  “They aren’t going to miss it. There are still over a dozen bottles left, and it doesn’t look like they’re going to drink it all. Most of them seem to prefer the harder stuff.”

  “Make sure the leftovers don’t disappear and are delivered to Chase Kelly’s offices on Monday.”

  Joe frowns.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Can’t Monday. I’m working at the bistro down by the river.”

  Groaning, I sip the champagne. “Damn. Okay, let’s load them into the back of my car, and I’ll deliver them first thing.”

  “He’d rather see you, anyway.”

  “What do you think of him, Joe?”

  Joe holds his tray higher, puts a hand behind his back, and straightens up. “Old money, used to getting what he wants, and from my experience, those kinds of people are dangerous.”

  “How so?”

  Joe smiles at me and looks me in the eyes. “They don’t take no for an answer.” He moves back into the crowd and disappears.

  It’s going to be a long night, so I walk into the kitchens to make sure the food is hot and going out promptly.

  Isabelle

  It’s early Monday morning. I like to jog along the four-mile loop of Chicago’s Riverwalk. I get the serenity of the river with the skyline in the distance. It calms me and centers my thoughts for the coming week. Mondays aren’t busy days for event organizers. Weekends take up the bulk of our work. Mondays are usually Charlotte’s day, but since I saw her over the weekend, I get most of today to myself—a rare respite.

  This time of day, there are people on their way to work or exercising. I maneuver around all of them and concentrate on my breathing and pace. Another jogger falls in beside me, and I pay them little notice. It happens sometimes. They think because I’m a woman, I can’t keep up or I need a protector. I’m coming to an area where there are very few people are around, so I stop running and drop to do up my shoelace. The jogger stops too and positions themselves in front of me.

  Standing, I come face to face with Chase Kelly. “Good morning.”

  With a hand on my hip, I smile at him. “Good morning. What brings you here?”

  “I like to get my exercise in early and saw you, so I thought I’d join you.” His smile lights up his face.

  “Didn’t take you for a runner?”

  “Glad I could surprise you.”

  “Shall we?” I ask as I take a couple of steps to continue my run. Chase falls in beside me. “Actually, I was coming to see you today.”

  “Couldn’t keep away?”

  I grin at him and shake my head. “Leftover alcohol. It’s in the trunk of my car.”

  Chase bursts out laughing and grabs me by the arm, stopping us. “Wait! You were going to give me the leftovers and not keep them?”

  “That would be stealing.”

  Chase laughs harder. “Hard-working and honest. You’re going to go far, Ms. Jones.”

  “Haven’t your other organizers given you what they didn’t use?”

  “No, never.”

  I shrug. “Well, it’s not how I operate.”

  “Let me buy you breakfast.”

  I look at the path along the river. I’ve barely begun my route.

  “Please?” says Chase, and it almost sounds like he’s pleading.

  Sighing, I no
d my head. “Sure, why not?”

  “Great! There’s a little place further up just off West Monroe Street. It’s called Tellers. They make great coffee and a hearty breakfast.”

  I scrunch up my nose at the hearty breakfast, as it will mean I’m done running for today since you can’t run on a full stomach. Chase frowns at me, and I smile.

  “Sounds perfect. Race you there?”

  Chase grins and takes off at a hell of a pace. I keep to my stride and let him win. When I finally arrive at the coffee house, he’s doing a Rocky impersonation as he jogs up and down the three stairs, arms held high.

  “You won!” I laugh.

  Chase beams at me. “So what do I get for a prize?”

  “I think we’re supposed to discuss that before you win,” I tease.

  “Ah… but to the victor comes the spoils.” Chase smiles down at me, and I feel flustered.

  “Okay, then. What do you want?”

  “Dinner.”

  He looks pleased with himself, as though I’m some great treasure that he’s won.

  “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  Shaking my head slightly, he joins me at the bottom of the stairs and takes my hands in his. His bottom lip juts out as though he’s pouting. “Say yes. We can do a cruise on the water and have dinner on my yacht.”

  “Alone?”

  Chase shakes his head. “No, I can’t cook, so there will be staff, but other than that, yes, it’ll be you and me.”

  Relaxing slightly at the thought of other people being there, I nod. “What time?”

  The pout disappears, and he threads his fingers through mine. “Six?”

  “Okay.”

  He kisses the back of my hand and frowns.

  “What?” I ask, embarrassed.

  “You’re all filmy.”

  “It’s called sweat, and we were jogging.”

  Chase smiles and pulls me into the small coffeehouse. It’s notably bright inside—the walls, floor, tables, and chairs are all white. There’s a neon sign over the counter in a light blue that reads ‘Coffee.’ Apart from the odd plant, it’s the only color in the café.