by Amy Cecil
Table of Contents
ICE - KNIGHTS OF SILENCE MC BOOK I Dedication
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
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
ICE Playlist
ICE ON FIRE - KNIGHTS OF SILENCE MC BOOK II Dedication
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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
ICE ON FIRE Playlist
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Notes
ICE - Knights of Silence MC Book I
ICE ON FIRE - Knights of Silence MC Book II
Copyright © 2017
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or any portion thereof, in any form whatsoever, unless in a review. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Book cover design and layout by, Ellie Bockert Augsburger of Creative Digital Studios. www.CreativeDigitalStudios.com
Cover design features:
Fantasy Dragon Insignia: © Abrams / Adobe Stock
Editing Services provided by Carl Augsburger of Creative Digital Studios. www.CreativeDigitalStudios.com.
ISBN-13: 978-1548241230
ISBN-10: 1548241237
ICE
Knights of Silence MC
Book I
Amy Cecil
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my husband, Kevin. No matter what, you never doubted me or my abilities. All that I am - you let me be. What a wonderful life for as long as you been by my side.
– I love you baby!
Prologue
1995 – Edinboro, Pennsylvania
Caden
“Higher! Higher! Push me higher, Caden!” Emma giggled, as she demanded me to continue to push her on the swing.
Emma is my friend – actually, she’s probably my best friend. We have lived next door to each other for as long as I can remember. I was drawn to her as soon as she was born, even though I was only six at the time. She was so darn cute!
My parents have money, so you could say that I am privileged. However, the only kids that are my own age are from the private school that I attend. Their parents belong to the same country club to which my parents belong. They are all stuffed shirts, and I find that I have nothing in common with them. Emma is different. There is a bond there that I can’t explain.
Emma’s parents and my parents are good friends, so as she grew, it was only natural for Emma and me to become good friends as well. It is really hard for me to explain my relationship with Emma. At first, I guess I felt sorry for her. Both her parents work all the time and Emma is often alone or with the nanny. So, I decided to spend time with her. Once I started playing with her in the nursery and spending time with her, I found that I really enjoyed being around her. I would teach her things like her ABCs, and we would sing songs together. I know, it sounds silly, but in my younger years making her happy made me happy. Now that Emma is older, I find her to be strong-willed (and, I might add, spoiled rotten). And somehow, that is ok. Our friendship is beyond the point to question it all now.
As I got older, I started feeling like her protector. Someday, she will need me and I’m going to make damn sure I’m there for her, no matter what.
We have played together just about every day for the last few years. She always makes me laugh, and I find that even after all these years, I still always want to be around her. Emma knows now, even as a precocious ten-year old, that I would do anything that she asked of me. She has got me wrapped around her little pinky, and she knows how to use that fact to her advantage. So, when she asks me to push her higher on the swing, naturally, I do it.
I turned sixteen last week. My father says that I am becoming a man now, that I need to spend more time with grownups, and that I need to start thinking about my future. He thinks I spend entirely too much time with Emma. He believes that my relationship with Emma is unnatural because of our age difference. He says my feelings for her will change. When I asked him how, he just says that one day I’ll feel different about her than I do now. It frustrates me, because I don’t understand.
Dad and I will never see eye-to-eye on things. We are nothing alike, and honestly, sometimes I think that there is no way he could be my dad. My mom, on the other hand, totally gets me. She and I have more in common. We both love the outdoors, while my dad prefers to be inside, either working or reading. Mom is more social, like me, and we both know the importance of good friends and spending time with family. We also have a bit of rebelliousness in us and don’t see anything wrong with doing things that aren’t always accepted or considered normal by our society.
I remember one time a few years ago, Mom, Dad, Ari and I were having dinner together at the country club. On this particular evening, the after dinner entertainment was Karaoke. Mom and I wanted to stay but Dad was ready to leave. Mom pleaded with Dad to let us stay and reluctantly, he agreed. We listened as several people got up and sang. Some were better than others. Some had no business singing in public. Mom, Ari and I laughed and sang along. Dad was just annoyed by it all. It was clear to me that Mom wanted to sing. “Mom, you should go up and sing” I encouraged her. Dad immediately responded, “What are you talking about Caden, your mother can’t sing. She will embarrass herself, not to mention all of us.” Well, that remark only made Mom more determined. She got up from her seat and looked directly at me and said, “Come on Caden, let’s sing.” I immediately followed her. We sang “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,” by Elton John and Kiki Dee. We were a huge hit, everyone applauded us, but Dad was not happy. He insisted that we leave as soon as we were done. Dad was so mad at us. I don’t think he spoke to either of us for a week.
And then there was the time I got caught after hours skinny dipping in the country club pool with Amber Carrington-Higgins. Amber was the club president’s daughter and of all the girls I could choose from to skinny dip with, she was probably the worst choice. Her dad made a point to make an example of us both and never missed an opportunity to publicly humiliate us. Dad was livid, said that I was an embarrassment to the family. Mom tried to reason with him, saying that I was a typical teenage
boy. She even went as far as to remind him of what he was like at that age. It didn’t work. Dad just couldn’t see it the way she saw it.
I find I can talk to Mom more easily about things, too. I’ve talked to her about Dad’s feelings regarding my relationship with Emma, and she said that my dad thinks that there will come a time when Emma’s friendship will not be enough for me and that I’ll want a romantic relationship with her. To an extent, I can see her point. I’ve often thought about Emma being older and us actually dating. But I also know that Emma is just a little girl and those thoughts are preposterous. She is just too young.
My five-year-old sister, Ari, loves Emma. She looks up to her like a big sister and Emma totally loves Ari. However, Ari always wants to hang with us and sometimes, even though Emma enjoys having Ari around, I find that she gets a little jealous at times when it is not just the two of us. Personally, I like it better when it is just Emma and I too. Ari can be annoying at times and I find that I don’t have the patience with her that I should. She is that annoying little sister who wants to do everything with me and I don’t want to be bothered. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my sister, but I really do not need to hang out with her. She is much more like my dad. Dad spends more time with her than he ever does with my mom or me. Dad and Ari will sit together in his study for hours. Dad will be working, while Ari has one of her books pretending to work along with him. It is really cute to watch the two of them; they are two peas in a pod, as my mom always says. But for me, she is just too much like my dad for me to hang out with.
“Caden, why did you stop pushing me? I’m not flying anymore!” Emma squealed.
Realizing that I’d been lost in thought and not giving Emma her required 100% of my attention, I started pushing the swing again. After several minutes of this, my arms began getting tired. “Emma, do you mind if we head back home? Haven’t you had enough of the swing today?”
“No!” She cried, “Just a few more pushes? Pretty please, Cade?” I love it when she calls me Cade. I’m such a sucker!
“Fine, but just a few more and then we are going back. I have stuff to do today. I won’t be able to spend all afternoon with you.”
After a few more pushes on the swing, I let the swing start to slow and descend. When the swing stopped Emma jumped off and grabbed my hand. She looked up to me with her big blue eyes and said, “Why can’t you spend the day with me? I thought today was our day?”
I smiled and said proudly, “I spend just about every day with you. But today, I can’t. I’m sixteen now and I have grown-up stuff to do.” It was cool being sixteen. Dad was right about one thing; I was becoming a man, and the first thing on my list was to get my driver’s license.
“What kind of grown-up stuff?” she asked with her nose upturned.
“Well, if you must know, I’m going to take my driver’s test today. After that, I have to go into town and meet with my dad at his office.”
She laughed. “Oooh, Caden is gonna be driving,” she teased. Then she tried to wink at me and added, “Now you can start taking girls out on dates.” After she said this, I noticed that her smile suddenly faded and she started to frown. Her nose crinkled up and her eyes looked as if she was about to cry.
“Now Emma, take that frown from your face. You know you are my only girl,” I reassured her. I knew that was what was bothering her. Emma has this strange fascination that I will marry her when she gets older. When I try to explain to her that I’m too old for her, she just gets upset and pouts. It’s easier to just play along. I figure she will understand better when she’s older. I mean really, what harm could it do to play along with her fantasy?
She giggles and asks, “Does that mean that you will take me on dates?”
“Of course,” I replied. “We can keep coming to the park, but we can drive instead of walk like we do now. Or, if you are really good, we can even drive to get ice cream.”
“Ice cream!” she squealed. She then added, “I think I would like an ice cream date.” That was all she needed to hear. Her smile returned and we started to walk back to her house. A few minutes passed and then Emma asked cautiously, “Caden, why are you meeting your dad in town?”
Damn. I’d known this question was coming. I was dreading it, and had been hoping that we could just avoid this conversation altogether. But Emma, being Emma, didn’t miss anything – and deep down, I’d known she would catch on. I just didn’t want to break the news to her that I will most likely be working for my dad’s firm, and that would mean that we can’t spend as much time together. We usually spent every day together during our summer vacations, but this year, Dad wanted me to work. He made that perfectly clear last night during his “you’re a man now” talk.
“Well son, tomorrow is your big day. You are a man now. What are your plans for your future?” he’d asked.
Stunned by his question, I responded, “Dad, I’m only sixteen. I haven’t really given my future much thought.”
My response obviously angered him. I could see his brow furrow and his temples pulsate. He always got this way when he was angry, which was usually when he was talking with me. If you haven’t figured it out yet, my dad and I don’t get along at all.
“That is what I expected. Caden, you have no ambition and no drive. I am so disappointed in you. How do you expect to be a man without any plans for your future? How do you expect to support a family?”
“Dad, I’m sorry. I just haven’t thought much about any of that. I have plenty of time to make those decisions. I’m sorry I disappointed you,” I responded the only way I knew how so as to not anger him more. Dad was not abusive to me physically, but his words always made me feel unworthy of the Jackson name. He always made me feel as if I didn’t belong.
He was quiet for a couple of seconds and then he said, “Caden, don’t be sorry, do something about it.” He paused for a moment and then added, “Never mind, I have already taken care of things. Tomorrow, after you take your driving test, you are coming down to my office. You will start working for me.”
Surprised by his plans for me, I argued, “Dad, I don’t want to work for you. I have no interest in investment banking.”
“Well, what are you interested in?” he asked.
“I don’t know; I have never really given it much thought. But I know that I don’t want to be an investment banker. Please Dad, just give me some time to think about it.”
“No, you have had sixteen years to think about it. You will go into investment banking and follow in my footsteps. I will make a man out of you yet. You will have finally done something that makes me proud of you. I don’t want to hear another word about this. I’ve made my decision.”
The finality of his words felt like a pit in my stomach that weighed down upon me, not to mention the fact that the comment about finally being proud of me made me feel like crap. My mom saw my hurt feelings and frustration and tried to intervene, but he put his foot down and we both just remained silent, bending to his will as always.
Lost in thoughts of last night’s discussion, I was brought back by Emma calling my name.
“Caden? Caden, you didn’t answer me,” she stated.
Hesitantly, I tried to explain. “Well, peanut, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.” Her frown returned. Shit. I’d known this was not going to go well at all, and her frown indicated that the decline in her mood had already started. But I had to tell her, so I continued, trying to break it to her as gently as I could. “You see, Dad wants me to work for him this summer. So, I’ll be getting a job.” My dad has a very well-established practice in town. It’s the last thing I want to do, but if Dad has it his way, it will be my legacy. Nothing would make him prouder than for me to follow in his footsteps. So, basically, I’m doomed to be a paper-pusher for the rest of my life, just to make my dad happy. Lucky me.
“A job? Will you have to work like Mom and Dad do?” she asked sheepishly. “They work every day, except Saturday and Sunday. I never see them, I’m always w
ith Marissa, my o pear,” she said, struggling over the foreign words.
I had to laugh. “Emma, she’s an Au Pair, not an O Pear.”
“Oh,” she said a little embarrassed. “I thought I was saying it right.” She’s quiet for a moment, and then she added, “So, am I right? Are you going to be too busy for me?”
Sadly, I replied, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it looks that way.” I don’t like this anymore than she does. Dad and I argue about it constantly. He keeps telling me that I should not be spending my free time with a little girl, and that I need to start working toward my future. He further explains that working at his firm would be the perfect opportunity for me to spend time with grown-ups. Shit, grown-ups! He was going to have me spending time with a bunch of snobby bankers and I was going to hate every minute of it.
Emma’s eyes started to well up with tears. She stopped walking and asked, “When will I see you?” The look on her face broke my heart. She took several deep breaths and then, turning away, she yelled, “I’m never going to see you!”
I reached for her arm and turned her back to me. She looked down at the ground, refusing to look up at me. I touched her chin and lifted her head to make her look at me. “Sweetie, I promise. I will make time to see you. It just won’t be as often.” I hope she knows I have every intention of keeping that promise. I added, “Look at it this way: because we won’t see each other so often, it will make our time together more special.”
Her expression shifted from despair to anger in a matter of a second and she exclaimed, “I don’t like it!”
“Emma, please try to understand. You know this is what my dad wants. I don’t like it any more than you do. Do you really think this is what I want?” She shook her head. “Of course not, but please understand. I don’t have a choice. You know I have to do what my dad says.”
She then asked the question I kept asking myself: “If this isn’t what you really want then why can’t you tell him that?”
I smiled. I know some day she will understand, but trying to explain this to a child…well, I know it will get me nowhere. So, I responded with the only thing I could think of: “It’s complicated.”