Road to Victory (Dogs of Fire Book 5)

by Piper Davenport

  My mother, however, decided she was going to fill me in on her horrific childhood with my uncle and the years of abuse she’d suffered. Apparently, there were other accusations by other girls in the past, but they never went anywhere... the families were either bought off, threatened... or both.

  When my uncle was arrested, my mother had been interrogated in connection with the fire, but she knew nothing about it (before-hand, anyway). She had admitted to me that she’d killed my first horse, but only because my uncle had threatened my life... it was me or my horse. So she put into place the plan to get me out of the country and swore she’d never let him manipulate her... or touch me... again.

  I couldn’t say all was forgiven between me and my parents, but things were softening. Bart would never get out of jail, which helped (a little, anyway) heal the wounds he’d inflicted.

  My wedding had been a pretty intimate affair. Just like Dani, I was married on her parents’ property, with her dad giving me away, which was something I wasn’t sure he’d agree to. He really wanted me to give my father a chance, but I wasn’t there yet. So Warren had walked me down the aisle, crying almost as much as he did when he gave Dani away, and his sweet kiss on the cheek had been the start of a perfect ceremony.

  I had invited my parents’ and they’d behaved beautifully. What I would find out later, was that Knight had had a little pow-wow with them before the ceremony, setting down some strict ground rules that they followed. All in the name of “mending bridges” and working toward the forgiveness they wanted to earn. I was too happy to care what they wanted, but I had to give them credit, they were trying.

  Unlike Dani, however, I’d spent a shit ton on my dress. Total overkill, I’m sure, but I wanted Oscar de la Renta, so I paid for Oscar de la Renta.

  Mack got a license online in order to officiate, and we had all our close friends surrounding. I met Knight’s parents for the first time the morning of the wedding and decided, as much as I liked his dad, his mom was someone to watch out for. That woman could shatter glass with her lethal stare.

  Our honeymoon consisted of one month in Europe, which was exciting to see through Knight’s eyes. As calm, cool, and collected as he was, he geeked out on the different approaches to Veterinary medicine between the USA and England... not to mention Italy and France. We hit all the pertinent tourist spots, but having lived in Switzerland, I was able to share some out-of-the-way places I’d loved as a kid. Knight appreciated the chance to see sights tourists didn’t normally see.

  Three weeks after we’d returned home from our honeymoon, we moved into Gran’s house. The Sadler’s had used the fire as an opportunity to readdress what they wanted in life. They chose to move back to Iowa to be close to Linda’s family, so I paid their moving expenses since it was because of my family they had to make the life-altering decision.

  The repair process had brought to light a few issues which might not have been seen had the entire back part of the house not been incinerated, so I made sure the electrical and plumbing was up to code for this century, Everything was done two days before we got home. Cutting it close, but the house was gorgeous and we had plenty of space to do everything we wanted to, including building a state of the art training facility.

  Cricket was now renting my apartment... for a steal. But I didn’t mind. She’d had it rough and needed a win, and she was a really awesome lady, so I was happy to help her out. She’d wanted to put some distance between herself and her brothers, and I didn’t blame her. She was the only girl in a family of five and no parents. Hatch had pretty much raised his siblings, having taken on their custody when he was barely twenty. That couldn’t have been easy for him, and I know it hadn’t been easy for Cricket.

  Much to my surprise, Knight had presented me with a prenup... one Mack had drawn up. My attorney looked it over and assured me that Knight wasn’t kidding when he said he didn’t want my money. Apparently he didn’t want his own either, because if we ever got divorced, I’d get everything.

  Since I wasn’t after Knight’s money either, my lawyer altered the contract so it was equal and fair. We signed it and never talked about it again.

  I’d gotten pregnant pretty much right away, but once Cambry arrived, I knew trying for another one before I turned thirty might be a bit much. When she was two, we planned to talk about it again.

  I pushed open the back door and lifted Cambry out, helping her out of her shoes before walking from the mud room into the kitchen. “Let’s get you a bottle and put you down, huh?”

  Cambry’s head bobbed up and down. “Babba, Mama.”

  I smiled, kissing her forehead. “Yes, baby. Bottle with Mama.”

  The beep of the alarm sounded and then I heard the front door close. “Kimmie?”

  “In here.”

  Knight walked in, slipping out of his cut and throwing it over one of the kitchen chairs.

  “Dada!” Cambry squealed and pitched herself toward him.

  He caught her, pulling her close for a kiss. “How’s my baby girl?”

  She tucked her head under his chin and shoved her thumb in her mouth. He leaned down and kissed me gently. “Hey, sugar.”

  “Hi, honey. You’re home early,” I said. “How was church?’

  “Good. Uneventful. You makin’ her a bottle?”

  “Yes. You want to get her ready for bed?”

  “Sure. I’ll meet you up there.” He held our girl close and headed to her room while I warned the bottle.

  I pushed open the door and smiled. Knight had Cambry in her pajamas and was reading her a princess book. Cinderella was on the docket tonight and Cambry barely looked away as I handed her the bottle.

  “Go take a bath, sugar. I’ll finish up here and join you.”

  “Mmm, don’t have to tell me twice.”

  He chuckled and I kissed them both before heading to our bedroom. I filled the enormous clawfoot tub and stripped out of my horse gear, lowering myself into the hot water with a sigh. Knight joined me a few minutes later, setting the baby monitor on the vanity, and dragging his shirt over his head.

  I grinned. “I’ll never get sick of that view.”

  His gaze swept the length of my body. “Ditto, sugar.”

  “Hurry up and get in here,” I ordered, and slid forward to give him space.

  He chuckled, stepping in behind me. Knight pulled me up against him, kissing the sensitive spot behind my ear and wrapping his arms around me from behind. “Missed you today.”

  I smiled. “Me too. Is that weird? It’s weird.”

  “It’s not weird, sugar. We work well together, we love well together, we sure as hell fuck well together, so we enjoy being around each other. It’s how it should be.”

  I turned slightly so I could see his face. “You’re amazing, Knight. You know that, right?”

  His face got soft as he stared at me. “Not even close to what you bring to the table, sugar, but I’m glad you think so.”

  “Oh, I know so.” I sat up on my knees facing him, leaning in to kiss him. “I really like fucking you in this tub, so can we do that now, please? Then maybe in the bed and back in the tub...”

  “I’m pickin’ up what you’re puttin’ down, sugar. Prepare to be amazed.”

  “You sound like a magician.” I giggled. “Amazing Aidan.”

  “Amazing Aidan... I like that.” He shifted me so my back was to his front again and slid his hand between my legs. “Tell me, Kinky Kim, how does this feel?”

  “Amazing.”

  He laughed and, as I made love to my husband, I realized I’d won a victory far better than any gold medal... I’d won the love of a great man... one who helped heal me.

  And now I was free.

  ABOUT PIPER

  Piper Davenport writes from a place of passion and intrigue, combining elements of romance and suspense with strong modern day heroes and heroines.

  She currently resides in pseudonymia under the dutiful watch of the Writers Protection Agency.

 
Like Piper's FB page and get to know her!

  (www.facebook.com/piperdavenport)

  Twitter: @piper_davenport

  Also from Trixie Publishing!

  A Nun Walks into a Bar - Sneak Peek

  2016 Tracey Jane Jackson

  Copyright © 2016 by Tracey Jane Jackson

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States

  Sister Abigail Eunice

  I HAVE BEEN told I look like Mila Kunis, and you’d think this was a good thing, but in my line of work, it’s more of a hindrance. You see, I’m a nun. Admittedly, I’m not a very good one, but nonetheless, I am, in fact, a nun.

  Which (in a very roundabout way) led me to a tiny, hole-in-the wall bar at the edge of the Pearl District in Portland, Oregon, on a quiet Wednesday night.

  I was supposed to be meeting my friend, Laura, for dinner, but as I stepped off the MAX, I realized I’d gotten off at the wrong stop and, as was my luck, the small wet sprinkle coming from the sky quickly turned into a downpour.

  “Well, crap!” I slapped a hand over my mouth and mumbled, “Sorry, Lord.”

  Seriously, I was the worst nun ever.

  Unsure of which street I was on, I took shelter under an awning next to a building with a frog motif, but no other identifying information. Frustrated, I fished my phone out of my purse and tried to figure out where I was. I had a missed call from Laura, and a new voicemail, which I could only guess meant she wouldn’t be able to make it.

  “Hey, lady. I’m so sorry, I’m stuck at work and I can’t get down to the Pearl for another hour. Do you still want me to try or do you want to resched?” Yes, she said, “resched.” “Anyhoo, text me and let me know what you want to do. Love ya, ’bye.”

  Laura Chan was my oldest friend. She was actually the only one who knew me before the nunnery, and therefore knew me as Sadie Ross, not Sister Abigail Eunice. Laura’s parents had moved from China, and into the house next door, the summer before second grade. She’d spoken very little English, but we still managed to communicate and we roamed the neighborhood, inseparable until my parents’ death. I adored her, even though she wasn’t always reliable. Ever hopeful, however, I always gave people the benefit of the doubt, so here I stood, only slightly protected from the pouring rain. And it was pouring. I fired off a quick text to Laura, pressing send... just as my phone died.

  “Oh, holy mother of—” I pulled my sweater closer around me and stepped toward the building’s entrance so I could warm up and perhaps borrow a phone, but just as I moved away from the wall, something came loose from above, dropping a bucket’s worth of collected water on my head. I let out a quiet squeak and pulled off my now soaked veil, yanking open the heavy wooden door and slipping inside.

  “ID,” a gruff voice demanded.

  I nodded even though I couldn’t see anything in the dark space, reaching into my purse and pulling out my Oregon ID.

  A large hand swiped it from me then handed it back. “Sister Abigail, you look lost.”

  I let out a snort. “You have no idea. I’m stranded and my phone died.”

  “Ryder can call you a cab.”

  “Ryder?”

  “Owner.” He nodded toward the back of the building. “He’s at the bar.”

  “Do I really need to go to the bar?” I asked.

  “Lady, he’s got the number for the only cab company he trusts and if I let you leave in one from a company he doesn’t trust, he’ll be pissed.”

  I gave him a look of mock concern. “That sounds serious.”

  Bouncer dude chuckled. “Yeah, he’s got this weird thing about sweet women being protected.”

  “What about women who aren’t sweet?” I challenged.

  “Those too.” The bouncer laughed. “But the sweet ones always seem to get special treatment.”

  I smiled. “Okay, I’ll head to the bar.”

  “Good plan.”

  I walked past the pool tables, dartboards, and a jukebox playing something with a heavy drumbeat next to the bar, the counter of which ran the length of the building. There weren’t a whole lot of patrons, just a few who looked as though they paid weekly rent for their stools. However, I was surprised by the heart motifs hanging and taped up in a few key places. I guess it made sense... Valentine’s Day was tomorrow, so the bar was probably getting ready.

  A tall man with his back to me turned and I felt sucker punched. Like, as in, the breath left my body.

  His light-blue eyes met mine and seemed to peer into my soul. I froze, unable to take one more step under the weight of his scrutiny. He crossed his arms, keeping eye contact, and I was drawn into his tractor beam-like pull. I inched forward, one baby step at a time, taking in his light-blond hair, a full beard—not quite Portland hipster full, but still sexy-as-heck full. When my gaze landed on his lips he gave me this incredibly delicious sideways smirk, and Lord help me, I wanted him to kiss me.

  See? Worst nun ever.

  “You lost, Sister?”

  “How did you know I’m a nun?” Without my veil, most people just threw pitiful glances at my clothes as though I didn’t know how to dress in anything fashionable. I wore a sturdy black wool dress, black tights, and a gray button-up cardigan.

  “Couple years of Catholic school. ’Course, I never saw a nun who looked like you, but it’s your shoes that give you away. It’s always the shoes.”

  “Oh.” I bit my lip, glancing at my feet. “Well, you got that right. They call them sensible... I call them ugly.”

  “Not touchin’ that one.” Ryder smiled. “You need directions?”

  I shook my head. “I’m that tale of woe, I’m afraid. My friend couldn’t make our dinner date and my phone died.”

  “You need a cab?”

  “Yes, but do you mind if I just warm up for a minute?”

  “You want some tea?”

  I couldn’t stop a huge smile of relief as I sat on one of the stools. “I would love some tea.”

  “Give me your phone and I’ll charge it for you.”

  “No, that’s okay.” I waved my hand dismissively. “I doubt you’ll have a charger that works.”

  He chuckled. “You’d be surprised.”

  I pulled out my six-year-old flip phone and slid it to him.

  “Right,” he said.

  “Solve that one,” I retorted with a giggle.

  “Oh, you don’t think I can?” He pulled open a drawer next to the cash register. After testing several cords against my phone, he let out a, “Gotcha!” and faced me again, plugging my phone into the wall. “Found one.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  He laughed. “We never throw anything away and people leave shi—ah, stuff here all the time.”

  I raised my hands and gave him quiet applause. “Well done, sir. Well done.”

  He grinned and handed me a cup of hot water and a couple of tea bags. I was pleasantly surprised to see he had my favorite licorice flavor and steeped it in the water while Ryder went about his business.

  “You look like you’re gearing up for Valentine’s Day,” I said, and sipped my tea.

  Ryder shook his head. “Not my choice.”

  “Aren’t you the owner?”

  He chuckled. “Doesn’t mean I’m not ruled by my patrons.”

  “Ah, so not a romantic, then.”

  “Just think men should show their women they love ’em every day... not wait for one day out of the year. The whole holiday is a farce, in my opinion.”

  I smiled. Maybe he was a romantic.

  As he freshened my hot water, I wondered what my fellow sisters would think about the predicament I’d gotten myself into. Granted, they rarely left the abbey, but they also didn’t have jobs like I did.

  Being a fourth-grade teacher and working for the Catholic school next to our living quarters was a perfect setup for me. Lately, however, I’d been feeling restless and I know Reverend Mother noticed. In fact, I had a meeting with her in the morning and it sounded se
rious, so being late or tired would not be an option. Perhaps my ill-fated evening was cut short for a very good reason. Mother always says God works in mysterious ways.

  “You ready for that cab?”

  Ryder’s question pulled me from my thoughts and I smiled, shaking my head. “Is it okay if I stick around for a little bit?”

  “Knock yourself out.” He glanced at his watch. “But you’re outta here within the hour. It gets a little rowdy at night.”

  “Your bouncer warned me about you.”

  “Yeah?”

  I wrapped my hands around the cup, warming them. “He said you’re very protective of women.”

  He glanced behind me and then met my eyes again. “Bennie talks too much.”

  “Maybe so.” I shrugged and then sipped my tea again.

  “What do people call you other than ‘Sister’?”

  “Nothing. I’m Sister Abigail Eunice. Although my parents named me Sadie.”

  Now why did I share that? I hadn’t used my real name in years.

  He leaned against the bar. “Pretty.”

  My breath caught. “My parents thought so,” I said once I could speak again.

  “But not you?”

  “No, I like it fine. I guess I don’t really think about my name much.” I shrugged. “My students call me Sister and I don’t have many friends outside of... well, outside.” I shook my head. “Gosh, that sounds so narrow.”

  Ryder grinned. “Sheltered perhaps.”

  “That’s very gracious, Ryder.”

  He cocked his head. “Never been called gracious before.”

  Elbow on the bar, I settled my chin in my palm. “That surprises me.”

  “Of course it does. You’re a nun.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You’re gracious to everyone, so you assume others will be gracious as well.”

  “I’m not gracious to everyone. I’m a nun, not perfect.”

  Ryder shrugged. “Fair enough.”

  “I should go.”

  “Probably a good idea.” He grabbed his cell phone and put it to his ear. “Hey. Got time to drop someone home?” He faced me. “Where do you live?”