Love Heals (The Love Duet Book 2)

by Leah Sharelle

  Copyright © 2019 Leah Sharelle

  Love Hurts: A Love Duet — Book Two

  By Leah Sharelle

  All Rights Reserved.

  Editing and Proofreading: R Corcoran

  Photography: Chic Professional Photography

  Cover Models: Tamara Leckie, Derek Stephens

  Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations

  Interior Design: RMJ Manuscript Service LLC

  This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the properties of the author, and your support and respect are appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. 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.

  This author writes using Australian English and may include Australian diction.

  Contents

  Note from Leah

  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

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Leah Sharelle

  Connect with Leah Sharelle

  About the Author

  For those who let love heal them.

  Jason’s journey to a HEA continues and hence the title, he gets it. This book is told in dual POV, unlike Love Hurts. In the first book, which was all about Jason and Deck’s tumultuous relationship, this one is Jason finding not only love, but peace. His lady is perfect for him, if I do say so myself, and she brings out Jason’s soft side that he lost at the end of Love Hurts.

  Keziah, I hope you enjoy seeing a little of Darth again.

  For Handsome xoxo

  Chapter 1

  JASON

  I roared my bike through the compound’s huge gates, nodded at Seb and steered my way to my reserved park.

  Today was not a good day for me to be late. However, the way Murphy’s Law works and the fact that Murphy hated my guts, I was indeed very late.

  “Shiloh is going to kill me then punish me with another run of fucking Tour of Duty,” I muttered as I turned off my bike, kicked the stand down and finally removed my helmet, setting it on top of the tank.

  “Talking to yourself in the first sign of madness brother.”

  I whipped my head around to face Deck, who was walking Charlie to her beloved Mini, his arm wrapped around her tiny waist keeping her as close as possible to him.

  That was Deck; overprotective, alpha and deeply in love with his wife.

  A stark contrast to the person I grew up with years ago.

  Walking up to the couple, I leaned in and kissed Charlie on the cheek, earning a growl from Deck.

  “Yeah, well living the first twenty years of my life in the same house as you started the insanity, dickhead,” I informed Deck, winking at his wife and receiving a giggle from the pretty blonde.

  “You know what will happen if you miss any of Squirt’s recital, she will give you hell worse than she did when you missed her sleepover,” Deck reminded me unnecessarily, as if l didn’t already know that my spitfire of a niece would lay hell on me.

  “Yeah, I know, I know. Fucking not enough hours in the day,” I mumbled, passing by the loved-up couple.

  “Jason, you okay mate?” Deck asked, hearing the concern in his voice, I stopped my progress to the compound’s main door. I didn’t live at the compound full-time like the other members of the club, but I had a room here and sometimes I crashed there after a party or when I just couldn’t be bothered driving home after a long shift. The station wasn’t far from the compound, so I took advantage when the situation arose.

  Turning to look over my shoulder, I saw the concern on my twin’s face.

  The years had been pretty kind to Deck and I, even in our early forties we didn’t look too much different than when we were thirty; other than my hair being shorter now and my on and off again beard and Deck’s light dusting of grey at his temples.

  Giving him a chin lift, I smiled slightly. “Yeah mate, just tired that’s all. I need to give Booth some papers to sign regarding the gun shop’s permits then I will head off for the dance school,” I explained. “Shiloh still with me tonight?” I asked looking to Charlotte.

  “If you don’t mind that will be nice. Bastian is with your parents tonight so we will be kid free,” Charlotte said blushing prettily.

  The woman my brother ended up with was perfect for him; soft to his hard. She complimented his alpha nature perfectly, and I had to say, I did enjoy seeing a woman still capable of blushing.

  “We are?” Deck exclaimed excitedly, grabbing his wife and picking her up then spinning her around.

  Yeah, I definitely wasn’t staying at the compound tonight. Shiloh and I had plans and they didn’t include putting up with her parent’s sexual proclivities. Leaving Deck and Charlotte to their excited conversation about what they were planning for their kid free night, I continued on my way.

  “Hey brother, want a beer?” Steel called out to me when I entered through the large wooden double doors that lead straight into the main room of the building.

  Memories swept over me of years ago when this place was not my favourite place to visit. Other than Shiloh being here, I once found the Wounded Souls’ compound a place that only reminded me of the life my brother carved out for himself. A family away from his family, but it was also a place of fucking joy.

  A place I rediscovered my Nymph, and for just that reason alone I was grateful for it.

  There were other reasons now I called the compound my second home. My niece and nephew, Shiloh and Bastian, were here and… well, I was a patched in member of the Wounded Souls now, so I kinda had to like it.

  Giving Steel a quick nod, I diverted to the bar. Booth was waiting on these permits, but another few minutes wouldn’t hurt him.

  “Make it a light brother, I still have to drive tonight,” I said taking a seat on one of the bar stools and breathed deeply.

  The day started out shit this morning and got steadily worse. By the time I clocked out I wanted to wring the neck of every single cop in the station. I was close to twenty years on the force, and I loved it most of the time, or should I say I was used to things. Political correctness and bullshit regulations sweeping through the police force faster than I was comfortable with had me thinking of a new line of work. What? I wasn’t sure. Before joining the force I did a lot of security work for local pubs, when I wasn’t working construction, and now I moonlighted as a bouncer for Body and Souls, when I wasn’t on duty. That was another thing the cops at the station were giving me shit for, my involvement with the club.

  Being a cop and a member normally didn’t go hand in hand, bitter enemies that sort of shit. But the Souls were not an outlaw motorcycle club, far from it. The town’s people knew this, knew of all the great shit the club did for the community at large. Thriving businesses that offered employment to over a hundred people, fundraising for local charities. The club followed the letter of the law. Because of that, me being
a member was breaking no law or code of conduct.

  Still, that didn’t stop the naysayers and the idiots who liked to run off at the mouth. See how far they could push the cop before the biker reared his ugly head and took over.

  They deserved a beat down for the crap they laid on me.

  Fucking wankers.

  “Tough day, Jay? Or are you scared that Shiloh will put you in a time out?” Steel said laughing, setting my beer in front of me then ripped the top off.

  “Both, brother. Our new mayor is as incompetent as her predecessor, and just as into herself as he was too.” Taking a long swallow of the cold amber liquid, I briefly wished it was a full-strength beer. Getting pissed as a fart sounded pretty good right now. However, Shiloh’s recital is in twenty minutes and if I missed one more the raven-haired princess was not going to be so forgiving this time. If there was anything certain about my niece it was her temper, and rocking that boat wasn’t worth the punishment.

  Steel nodded, his eyes narrowed. “So I heard, she is also making waves throughout the different council departments, mainly concerning rates and permits. I think the Pres is getting ready to go toe-to-toe with our new mayor sooner than later,” Steel informed me, not that I didn’t already know. I spent more than an hour today in line at the council offices waiting for the new permits for the gun shop only to be told that a two and a half metre high concrete fence was a new requirement around all properties that offered target shooting in addition to the safety measures already put into place.

  Booth was not going to be pleased with the expense to the club and the extra work, and telling him was definitely not going to be a basket of roses, especially when he finds out that it needs to be done within the month.

  With any luck Blondie got her man all loved up today making my mission a lot easier.

  It was an ambitious thought and a hopeful one.

  “She is causing shit all over the place. My senior sergeant is about to go postal on her arse, fuck knows her new ideas are making him a grumpy bastard,” I muttered, then finished off my beer in one chug. Slamming the empty bottle on the old scarred bar top, I pushed myself off the stool.

  “Wish me luck brother, I don’t suppose Booth is in a good mood?” I asked hopefully.

  Steel barked out a laugh, his blond hair shaking back and forth along with his head movement.

  “Stella is off today with Mia, Rainn and the kids in Melbourne seeing the Wiggles or some shit. My guess is our Pres is wound tighter than a two-bob watch.” Even as Steel laughed and joked I could see the tick of his jaw, no doubt trying to hide his own worry for Mia. The women of the club were highly revered by their men and their safety and protection was paramount, as were the kids of the Souls. Despite the years that had passed since Rogue terrorised the club’s ladies, the men still remembered, never forgetting the harm they suffered at the madman’s hands.

  Rogue plagued my nightmares, being involved in the takedown of the former soldier and Booth’s stepfather, to this day I still wrestled with my demons. The decision to help Booth I was good with, for the most part. Jerry caused so much devastation for the club, took precious lives and hurt many, my niece and sister-in-law included. Taking him out had been a foregone conclusion and the only one, using my powers as a police officer to cover up a murder ate at my conscious at times.

  When Booth came to me with his plan, it took a lot of convincing on his part and at first, I said no. Then, Darth had been killed in front of Shiloh, the bastard Rogue put a knife to my baby girl’s chest and shot Memphis before shooting Shiloh’s beloved bodyguard. After that, I was all in.

  A few months after all the publicity of the death died down, Booth came to me and asked me to join the club. I remembered laughing in his face, the very idea I become a part of my brother’s club absurd and I walked away forgetting the invite was offered.

  It took less than two weeks for me to decide I did want to be a part of something Booth was offering me. A real family, sure I had parents and my relationship with my mother was better than it ever had been, we’d talked and worked out our own personal shit, putting it all behind us. Life was too short to hold grudges and the past. My conversation with Deck had been an eye opener, when I asked him for his opinion on me becoming a patched Wounded Soul.

  “You asking for my permission or something else Jason?” Deck asked me, his blue eyes focused intently on me.

  “I’m asking for your honesty. Would you have a problem with me joining the club?” I said, instead of what I really wanted to say. As if I needed his permission to do anything, Booth was the president of the club, yeah it was true Deck was a founding member and the SAA. And, at the end of the day, all the officers needed to agree, plus there was the fact that Booth wanted to wave the prospect year and give me my full patch straightaway, it wasn’t the way of a club, prospecting was an important step for the club to see if the applicant was a good fit for the rest of the members. But I had proven my loyalty more than once during the Rogue saga and Deck knew that; he just enjoyed busting my balls.

  “I don’t have a problem with you being a Soul, nor do I have a problem with you being a cop. The question is can you do both?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go fuck himself, he knew what lengths I went to so Shiloh could be safe, so his wife was safe. Tampering with evidence, hiding a crime, I broke many rules and stepped over lines I never thought I would. So yeah, I could do both.

  “I can. What about you Deck, can you handle having your hated twin brother a fellow patch? Can you lay all our past shit aside?”

  “Brother, I laid that to rest a long time ago. I just love insulting you, it’s fun,” Deck said, grunting a laugh then he turned serious.

  “Never once hated you mate, but I get why you still think that. To be honest I can never thank you enough for what you have done for my club, for my daughter. Shiloh, Charlotte and Bastian are my fucking world, and I could have lost all of that on that day.” Deck paused while he visibly pulled himself together. The big ox of a man, nearly my mirror image physically, had found his softer side the day Shiloh was born. The same day I lost mine.

  I shutdown those emotions immediately, I rarely let myself go inside my head and let the pain of my loss consume me. I left that for the night when I was alone in bed.

  “I couldn’t have survived if I lost either of them at the hands of Rogue. I don’t know how you… go on,” he finished, leaving a lot unsaid but I knew what he meant.

  “Sometimes I don’t know how I do either brother,” I answered him truthfully. Five years and I was still stumbling my way through each day. Fighting the memories, the pain and the loneliness.

  Deck nodded his head slowly, his intense scrutiny turning softer.

  “You got my vote mate, but let it be known, I chose your club name. I put my hand up for that the minute Booth made the suggestion of you joining.”

  Laying my face in my hands, I groaned. “Of course, you did. Fuck me in the arse,” I muttered. Already knowing that whatever he came up with, it was going to be bad, after all this was Deck.

  Looking down at the patch on the left side of my leather cut, I shook my head in disbelief at the choice of name Deck insisted be bestow on me.

  Fucking Prick.

  Heading to the back of the main room, I passed the pool table where Mannix was holding court, and beating everyone that challenged him to a game, no doubt. Mannix was a pool shark and got his jollies at kicking everyone’s arse. He especially liked open party night at the club, the newcomers didn’t know of his reputation and were eager to put their money down on the table and take on a patched member. Poor sods, they only did it once, finding out early that Mannix Steel was unbeatable. Although tonight, he looked on edge, obviously his mind was on the same path as his brother’s. Rainn was a tough chick but that didn’t stop the enforcer’s need to be in control of every situation. Once the women and kids got back from the trip the men will settle, I was sure of that.

  “Booth?”
I called out when I reached the open door to the war room, it was rarely closed unless there was a meeting called, but everyone knew an open door didn’t mean you could just barge in. Patches didn’t have to adhere to that rule, but I respected my Pres and his privacy, so I waited for him to answer.

  “Come in brother.” Booth’s booming voice came from inside.

  Entering the room, I looked at the table and Booth’s seat but found nothing. Looking around I found my Pres standing over the other side of the room staring intently at one of the many monitors set up, the rubber band on his wrist getting a workout.

  “Brother, anything wrong?” I asked instantly concerned.

  “The girls are coming up twists at Pykes Creek,” Booth said quietly, pointing to the GPS screen. “Stella is driving because Seb ate something at the show that didn’t agree with him so he is busy throwing up at the back of the mini bus,” Booth informed me, not happy with Seb or the fact that his wife was driving up a similar style road she had the accident on, injuring her, Charlotte and Shiloh. Again, at the hands of Rogue.

  “Mate you have had Stells take defensive driving courses plus the van is fitted with top of the line safety measures. It’s a different road than that time. I am sure nothing is going to happen,” I assured Booth. Five years on and the bad memories still played heavily on the mind of our Pres.

  Booth stared at the screen for a few seconds longer, snapping the band as he did. Finally, he turned to me, and the switch that transformed Booth from loving husband and father to the commanding officer in charge of the club happened in seconds.