The Right Kind of Reckless

by Heather Van Fleet

  Also by Heather Van Fleet

  Reckless Hearts

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  Copyright © 2017 by Heather Van Fleet

  Cover and internal design © 2017 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover design by Eileen Carey

  Cover image © CURAphotography/Getty Images

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks, Inc., is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

  Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

  (630) 961-3900

  Fax: (630) 961-2168

  sourcebooks.com

  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  A Sneak Peek at Reckless Heart

  Chapter 2

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  To my mom: the only person out there who really and truly feels the love of book boyfriends like I do.

  Chapter 1

  Lia

  People say certain experiences in life define you as a human being, and I have to agree. Because the second my fist collided with my soon-to-be ex’s face, I realized something very important about my life: it absolutely sucked.

  “Damn, woman. I can’t believe you did that.” Travis fell to his knees on the sidewalk, his hand over his bloody nose.

  “And I’d do it all over again if I had to.” Sweat trickled down the side of my neck as I shook out my hand.

  Knees shaking from adrenaline, I darted toward the front door of Jimney’s—the bar where I worked every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night—but was stopped short by the outstretched arm of my boss, Patricia.

  “Turn right around and get on home, Lia.” Her lips twitched as she stared down at my hand, then back at Travis.

  “But I’ve still got two hours left.”

  “Yeah, I get it, baby girl. But I also don’t want the cops all up in my place of business.”

  “Why would the cops come?” It’s not like I’d strung Travis’s balls up behind his ears and hung him upside down by his penis from the telephone pole.

  Although the thought had crossed my mind.

  Finding your boyfriend screwing the brains out of your coworker next to a Dumpster outside your place of employment did tend to make a woman feel murderous…

  Patricia clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and nodded her head at something behind me. “I didn’t call, but I’m pretty sure one of them did.”

  I turned back around, finding two girls lingering by the Dumpster. Sure enough, one was on her cell, while the other stood with her arm around Aubrey—said coworker—trying to console her as she sobbed. I rolled my eyes as an unmarked cop car pulled into the lot, red lights silently flashing.

  “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Patricia pressed her hand between my shoulder blades. “As much as I feel for you, I’m not going to be sticking around.”

  A car door slammed. Boots crunched against the pavement, announcing the arrival of two cops. I jerked my head their way just in time for the shorter of the pair—the pudgy one with the ’stache—to ask, “What’s the problem here?”

  “She fucking broke my nose,” Travis whined.

  I folded my arms. “He deserved it.”

  With a sigh, I turned toward Cop Two, whose dark eyes were on me. He lifted his eyebrows, sweeping his flashlight over Travis, Aubrey, and her friends, then back my way. This officer was tall, with broad shoulders, a visible neck tat, and a face full of stubble. He was hot—in a badass biker way.

  Nodding once, Cop Two switched off his light and lowered it to his side. “Did he hurt you, miss?”

  I blinked, taken back by his concern. “Well, I—”

  “Cuff her, Mitch,” Cop One grumbled as he wrote something in a little black notebook. “Man’s pressing charges, and there’re witnesses.”

  I stiffened. Oh God.

  “Was he hurting you?” Cop Two repeated.

  “Not physically, no.” I folded my arms.

  He scratched at his stubbled jaw, then nodded. “Not much I can do for you, then, I’m afraid.”

  “Wasn’t asking you to, was I?” Like a four-year-old, I dug my toe into a crack, willing a hole to open below me. Embarrassed didn’t even begin to describe the way I felt.

  With an apology on his face, Cop Two motioned for me to turn around. “We’re going to have to take you in. I’m sorry.”

  Doing what he asked—because I didn’t want to be charged with resisting arrest—I nodded as the cold metal of handcuffs snaked around my wrists.

  “You have the right to remain silent…” he began.

  Chin high, I swallowed, pushing down the aching throb in my throat. I refused to cry over something that I’d never regret doing. “I want to talk to my law…yer.” Crap. I didn’t have a lawyer. I couldn’t very well afford one either—not when every bit of my savings had been spent that morning on my final tuition payment.

  “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” he continued, his voice low, his grip strong around my forearm.

  I jerked my eyes to the left, just as Aubrey and crew slipped into her car. The motor of her little Mercedes putted along as she passed. Not once did she look over at me as she pulled out of the parking lot, but I saw her smile, those tears she’d been shedding long gone and likely just done for show.

  “You
’ll get to make a phone call once we arrive at the station.” Cop Two nudged me toward his car.

  I blew out a slow breath, concentrating on the clipping of my boots against the pavement as I moved. Seriously, who could I even call? My brother wasn’t an option. Not only would he kill me, but he’d also call my parents and tell them. They’d have to hop on a plane and fly back from Arizona, which meant they’d be unable to finish their winter vacation. That’s the last thing I wanted, especially since I’d caused enough heartache in their lives as it was.

  What I needed was a miracle.

  And, yeah, a lottery win would have been nice too.

  I sank into the backseat of the squad car, reality smacking me in the face. There was only one person I could call who wouldn’t make me feel like the trash I was.

  I just hoped he’d pick up the phone.

  Chapter 2

  Max

  Something kept buzzing in my ear. My phone maybe? I rolled over in bed, my arm grazing a naked pair of tits in the process. The girl didn’t stir, thank God. I’d messed up by staying the night as it was.

  I wrapped my hand around my cell, squinting an eye open to look at the number. It was local but unrecognizable.

  “What?”

  “Max?”

  At the sound of her voice, I shot up in bed. “Lee-Lee. You good?”

  “No. I’m not good. I need a loan.” She took a breath. “Bail money.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “What happened?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  Instead of questioning her like I should’ve, I stood, grabbed my jeans off the floor, and yanked them over my hips. “I’ll be there in ten. Hold tight.”

  I ended the call, but my hand stayed clasped around the phone. I wanted to throw it across the room or stomp on it. If I did that though, I’d wake the sleeping woman behind me.

  It was better this way, me sneaking out. This is what I did—how I worked things. I never went in for seconds when it came to the ladies I hooked up with. A woman had only one rule to remember with me, and I always made it known up-front: don’t give what you know you won’t get in return.

  Didn’t mean it was right.

  In the car, I turned on early morning talk radio, forgoing the classic eighties I’d rocked out to the night before. I needed to clear my head, focus on what I was doing, and reason out why I was so damn excited that Lia had called me and not Colly, her brother and my best friend.

  Carinthia County Jail was only two blocks away, but the drive felt a hell of a lot longer. By the time I got out of my car, I was a ball of nerves.

  After posting bail, I was directed to a holding room. Inside the white walls, I pressed my hands against a counter and stared at the cop seated on the other side. “I’m here for Lia Montgomery.”

  He squinted at me. “You are…?”

  “Max Martinez.”

  “The boyfriend?” The guy scooted his chair back, one eyebrow raised in question.

  I shook my head, not sure why that mattered. “I’m a friend.”

  He nodded, then started to fill out some paperwork on a clipboard before setting it on the counter. “Bail’s been posted already.”

  No shit, Sherlock. I folded my arms. “What’d she do anyway?”

  “Not really my place to say.” He reached beneath the counter and brought out a basket, setting it next to the forms he’d just written all over.

  Curious, I pulled the edges back with my thumb, taking a quick peek. Lia’s purse, along with her boots, sat inside. “Why’s she not wearing her boots?”

  He yanked the basket back and glared at me. When he opened his mouth to say something, a voice behind me cut him off.

  “Because my feet hurt.”

  At the sound, I turned, eyes narrowing as I took in Lia, or more so her clothes. Black miniskirt and a hot-pink, skintight tank to match her hot-pink hair… She looked like a punk-rock goddess, a style that was all her own and sexy as hell.

  “That so?” I quirked a brow.

  The sleeve of tats covering her right arm looked bigger than the last time I saw her—three weeks and two days earlier, to be exact. It was an endless stream of black rose petals with interwoven hot-pink vines and thorns. The thing was fucking gorgeous, just like she was. My gaze ran the length of her holey stockings. The woman had legs for miles, and not a day went by that they weren’t running through my head.

  She pressed her hip against mine, ignoring me as she leaned over the counter. “Thanks for everything, Mitch.” She grinned at the cop.

  I whipped my head back toward the tatted-up man, finding his eyes flaring as he took her in and nodded. Jealousy stabbed at my gut, but I couldn’t blame the guy. I’d always known Lia was the sexiest woman in Carinthia. Now it seemed like I wasn’t the only one who thought so.

  “Take me home, Soldier Boy.” She grabbed the belt loop of my jeans and winked at this Mitch dude from over her shoulder before tugging me toward the door. Wordless, I let her, the only woman I’d ever be a slave to.

  On the way to her apartment, I didn’t bother talking, which wasn’t my norm. My head was spinning though. I was dying to know what had happened—what she’d done, why she’d done it, and if I had to kick someone’s ass because of it. Out of all the girls I knew, other than my best friend’s daughter and my half sister, Charlotte, Lia was my number one priority.

  “What’s this?” She jerked her finger toward the radio, leaning forward to change the station. “You turning old man on me?” She grinned as her heavy metal blasted through the speakers.

  “Jesus, I haven’t even had my coffee yet.” I winced, shutting it off.

  She shoved my shoulder. “You’re such a girl.”

  “Touch me or my radio again, and you’ll be sorry.” I glared at her from the corner of my eye, my lips twitching at the same time. I couldn’t stay mad at her, no matter what kind of trouble she’d gotten herself into.

  Ignoring my threat, she rolled down the window and leaned her head partway out. It was raining, but she didn’t care. In a lot of ways, she reminded me of, well, me. Free-spirited, didn’t give a shit, but packed with a world of secrets she’d never spill.

  “I love the morning air, don’t you?” Her shoulder-length pink hair blew around her face, sticking to her lips.

  “No. I don’t like mornings. I like to sleep in, like to drink my coffee in bed, like to—”

  “Get early morning blow jobs?”

  I shrugged. “If the occasion arises, then yeah, a good-morning cocksucking is fine by me.”

  She pulled her head back inside and leaned it against the headrest, facing me. “S’pose I messed that one up for you this morning, didn’t I?”

  Had she? Probably. Did I regret it? Hell no. Again, my best friend’s little sister would always come first—good cocksucking or not.

  “Yup.”

  “Sorry.” She reached over and squeezed my thigh. Our eyes locked, then held for another second, until she finally drew her hand away. An apology lit up her pretty face along with something else I couldn’t identify.

  Regret?

  Pain?

  Fear?

  She’d looked away too fast for me to figure it out.

  I cracked my neck and focused back on the road, just as the stoplight turned green. Lia was an enigma—had been that way since I’d met her nearly five years back. I shuddered just thinking about that night, wishing I could block the memory, knowing I never could.

  * * *

  It was a couple days before my two best friends and I were to be shipped out for our first tour of duty. Since Gavin and I didn’t have anywhere else to go, we decided to stay with Colly in Carinthia.

  Instead of hanging out at the bar and watching the Cubs play like we’d planned, Collin had some sort of ESP moment, thinking his little
sister was in trouble. So, the three of us hopped in his car and drove to her college town. Colly claimed he wanted to make sure he wasn’t just being paranoid, but I knew the truth. He’d already had a crap night knowing he’d have to leave Amy—his daughter’s since-deceased mama—and didn’t wanna leave any other stones unturned when we left the States.

  Macomb was only an hour away. “We won’t be gone long,” Colly had said. When we got to Lia’s apartment, her roommate said she was out at a party, but she had no idea which one, where it was, or who Lia was with. Collin was terrified and about scared the roomie to death with his inquisition. Said his sister, good girl Leanne Montgomery, didn’t do parties.

  Not knowing where to start, the three of us had split up, going from frat house to frat house in search of her. Neither Gav nor I had ever seen Lia before, other than a few pictures Collin had shown us during boot camp. I’d swiped one and stuck it in my pocket when he wasn’t lookin’. I was a sick motherfucker, yeah, but I also couldn’t help myself. From that picture alone, I could tell she was pretty—far too innocent for someone like me. Long brown hair, big blue eyes, and a sweet smile that said the world was hers to control if she wanted the job. I didn’t know it then, but I do now: Lia had me before I even met her.

  We finally located her at the biggest frat on campus. It was a moment that’ll stick with me for the rest of my life. I walked inside that house like nothing else mattered, my first—and to this day, most important—mission as a man.

  The place was loud, crowded, and smelled like sex, pot, and all things party. Nobody knew the girl in the picture when I showed it around and asked if they’d seen her. Hell, nobody gave me so much as a second glance as I tore through the house on the hunt. But I refused to quit searching, not until I checked every room and every face.

  Up the stairs I’d ran, searching rooms, slamming doors, shoving dudes off chicks in beds, just to make sure one wasn’t her. The last room I went into was quiet, dark, and exactly where I found her.

  Sitting in the closet with the door wide open—passed out asleep, clothing ripped, hand bloody—was the girl who had given me purpose I’d never known before. Purpose I’d never understood until the second I scooped her into my arms and carried her out of that house. From then on, I’d vowed to protect Leanne Montgomery like a sister—especially from me.