Running Hot (Hell Ryders MC Book 2)
Page 1
Table of Contents
Running Hot
Publication Page
Dedication
Author Acknowledgments
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Also Available
Also Read
Thank You
Running Hot
by
J.L. Sheppard
Hell Ryders MC Book 2
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Running Hot
COPYRIGHT © 2017 by Jeanette L. Sheppard
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Diana Carlile
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewilderroses.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Rose Edition, 2017
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-1494-5
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-1495-2
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my grandparents:
Esther Alvarez & Cosme Lopez
Hilda Hernandez & Daniel Hernandez
Author Acknowledgments
As always, a big thank you to my publisher, The Wild Rose Press, Inc., my editor, Sharon Pickrel, and everyone who works behind the scenes at TWRP.
To my family and friends, thank you for your continued support and encouragement.
Readers, it’s for you, I write. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
PRAISE FOR AUTHOR
J.L. Sheppard
RUNNING WILD
“Oh. My… Let me compose myself… You have to freakin’ read this!”
~Coffee House Press
~*~
“Exciting and hard to put down, and I loved every single second of it!”
~Alpha Book Club
~*~
“…A big hit and a must read!”
~TBR Pile
AWAITING FATE
“This romance captures the heart from the very beginning… The reader can’t help but get completely caught up in all the passion of the story.”
~Night Owl Reviews
HEAVENLY DESIRE
“Equal parts romantic, heartbreaking and just good old fashioned entertaining, Heavenly Desire has that special something that makes each turn of the page a gateway to emotional turmoil, danger, and forbidden passions…”
~Tome Tender Blog
Prologue
Thomas “Cuss” Layne lay under a ’57 Chevy, the car he’d been restoring for the last two weeks. Feeling a kick on his leg, he slid out from under the car, sat up, and met his VP’s gaze.
Jaw clenched, Dash shook his head. “Can’t believe this shit. We’re outta whiskey.”
A Friday, the night the brothers met at the compound to relax and lay low. They did this by drinking, banging taps, shooting pool, and listening to music the only real way to listen to music—loud. So he understood why Dash sounded peeved they were out of whiskey.
“Brother, we got prospects to get that shit.”
Dash shrugged. “They’re out pickin’ up some shit.”
He dragged a greasy hand through his hair and chuckled. “That shit by any chance whiskey?”
“No, it ain’t. It’s some shit for the garage.”
He spared a glance at the clock at the far end of the shop. They had plenty of time before the brothers showed up. “I’ll make the run. Be back in no time.”
Dash lifted his chin. “Thanks, Cuss.”
“No prob.”
He stood, grabbed a towel, and wiped the grease off his hands. He then threw on his cut over the long-sleeved, thick, black thermal he wore, climbed on his bike, and rode off. The cool air whipped against his face, chest, arms, no better feeling. Arriving at a shopping center off Main Street, he parked, hopped off his bike, his gaze shooting toward the liquor store. Something caught his eye. He shifted his stare and froze. His stomach hollowed out and knotted. Only one person could make him feel that.
And it was her.
Tiffany.
She strode out of the grocery store, the exit just a few feet from the liquor store, dressed for a night out wearing a blue fitted dress, black fur coat tied at her middle highlighting her small waist, and a pair of six-inch heels. Her dark hair cascaded around her shoulders, her lips pink and glossed, cheeks rosy from the cold.
Still a beautiful girl, still out of his league, but damn, she was beautiful, grew more so every year. Having known her since she was fourteen, he knew this as fact.
She shifted, head angled to the side then back, looking behind her. A man walked out holding a dozen roses and a bottle of wine. Tall and blond, a pretty college boy worth her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, leaned into her, and whispered something in her ear, something that must’ve been hilarious because she laughed in that way that lit up her whole face.
It hurt.
It stung.
It killed.
She was happy. They looked happy. They’d date, and then, the pretty college boy would propose. She’d say yes. They’d get married, have a big, lavish, expensive wedding. She’d have his kids and live happily ever after. Without him. She’d never be his, not for an hour, minute, second.
Fuck.
Fuck him.
Fuck life.
Fuck it all.
The knot in his stomach turned into a burning ache consuming his whole chest. Still, he couldn’t force himself to look away, like he wanted to remember the sight, like he wanted to suffer and relish that burning ache. If it was all he’d ever get of her, he did.
Gaze glued to them, he watched the pretty college boy open the car door for her, watched the pretty college boy cup her cheek and kiss her lips. He watched the pretty college boy pull away and the beautiful smile that spread across her face.
Cuss wanted to go to her, see the look on her face when she saw him. He craved to know what she’d do, how she’d react, but like he couldn’t tear his gaze away, he couldn’t summon the strength to move, knowing deep in his gut, he’d forced this. Exactly what he knew would happen.
He missed his chance.
She’d never be his.
He wasn’t good enough, so he never tried. A coward, he hadn’t wanted to fall for her knowing one day she would leave for bigger and better. But standing there, staring at them, feeling nothing but that ache, he realized he s
hould’ve risked it, even if they’d only lasted a night. One night with her would’ve meant much more than all the taps he could fuck in a lifetime combined.
He clenched his jaw so hard it throbbed.
Then and there, he decided, she was his. She didn’t know it, would never know it, but she was his girl. Some of his brothers knew it. He’d saved her twice, claimed her in front of his brothers, at a party, and once, she rode on the back of his bike. No doubt, she was his girl and would always be, didn’t matter who she was with.
Only when they drove away did Cuss drop his head. He stared at the ground, still enduring that burning ache.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there motionless and lost in thought. He didn’t feel the cold, had grown numb to it, but it was long enough Dash called and asked him if he’d been swallowed by the ground.
He bought whiskey then drank too much of it.
Still, the image of her kissing the pretty college boy didn’t fade. He consoled himself by remembering she would always be his girl.
Chapter One
“Cuss.”
Shit.
Something was up.
Past four in the morning, Thomas “Cuss” Layne just got back from the bar with a few of his brothers, Army, Hash, and Strike. It wasn’t cold, but there was a bite to the air, standing out too long, it’d get to you. And yet, there was Prez, standing outside the garage, arms crossed, stoned faced. His gaze hard and glued to him.
He clenched his jaw. “Yeah.”
“Someone’s here to see you. Says it’s business. Says he knows you.”
His brows drew together. His brothers, the brothers of Hell Ryders MC, knew his family. They knew his mother worked two jobs to put his lazy-ass, entitled brothers through college. They knew his biological brothers too since he had to bail both of them out of sticky situations. They knew Rich, his best bud from high school. Not family but close. No one he knew outside the club would ever come to the club looking for him when they could just call.
“Who is it?”
“Robert Hamilton.”
Tiffany’s dad. His girl’s dad.
His chest compressed, heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, the air he breathed singeing his lungs. It was bad. It had to be. Something had happened to her, his girl. No other reason her father would come looking for him.
“Where is he?”
Prez cocked his head to the side. “Take it you know him?”
“Yeah, I know him, and I’ll explain later ’cause him here means my girl’s in trouble.”
Prez quirked a brow, uncrossing his arms and tucking his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t know you had one, Cuss.”
“Don’t got time now, Prez. Where is he?”
Prez nodded toward his right. “Office.”
He jogged in that direction, opened the door, and spotted an older man leaning against the counter. Tall, almost his height, with a light shade of brown hair that had further grayed on the sides since he’d last seen him, though he still had the same cut and style, trimmed on the sides and slicked back on top.
Cuss’s hands turned to fists.
Robert Hamilton.
He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe he was staring at Robert Hamilton, the man who’d fucked him so many years ago. If the bastard had accepted him, maybe, just maybe, his girl would really be his.
Hamilton straightened, dropping his arms to his sides. “See you remember me.”
How could he forget the man who felt the need to put him in his place? You never forgot that type of shit. Hamilton’s gaze slid to his hands then back to his face. He smirked.
Hamilton proved he was smart all those years ago, but the man proved it again, noticing what Cuss tried to hide, but for the life of him, couldn’t hide—how much he cared.
“Don’t know what the fuck you’re doing here. Either you’re stupid or just plain dumb. Tell me what you want then leave.”
“Suppose I deserve that.” Hamilton paused for too long.
He took a step in his direction. “Did you hear what I said? Tell me what you came to tell me and leave.”
“You’re not disguising anything, boy, which is why I came to you. I know you’ll take care of this and swiftly. I know what you and your club do—”
He lifted his chin. “Then why wait for me? Could’ve told Prez.”
Hamilton closed the distance, leaving just a few feet between them. “I want you to take care of this because I know after all these years you still care about my daughter, and I know you’ll handle it.”
He cared, he more than cared. One look at her the first day his junior year of high school, and she’d been burned in his brain. Beautiful in a way every guy found attractive no matter what he preferred. He was one of the many victims, but she’d been out of his league and still was. He knew it from that first look. Nails manicured, clothes new and designer, and the purse slung over her shoulder worth at least a grand. He knew, and still, he never found the energy to stop thinking about her, dreaming about her.
He closed his eyes. Her face came to mind. Lips thick, eyes a piercing green, long chocolate-colored hair framed her heart-shaped face. He’d never touched it, felt it against his fingers, but he knew her hair was thick and lush.
A deep burning sensation knotted his stomach, leaving him breathless. Every time he looked at her, it happened. Every time he thought of her, it happened.
Jaw clenched, he parted his eyes. “You don’t know shit about me. You don’t know shit besides what your money can buy you. What makes you think after all this time I’ll do you a favor no matter what you’re paying? You wanted to ensure the job done, should’ve spoke to Prez ’cause I ain’t doing shit for you.”
Hamilton smirked. “You want to play games? Play them.”
Taking a step in his direction, he forced Hamilton to look up at him, not much but enough. “You got balls of steel coming here.”
“What I have is my daughter’s best interest at heart. What I know is no matter how much money I pay, you’re the best man to do the job.”
Cuss had been up since five, worked a full day on a car and two bikes, and he started drinking at eight. He was exhausted, but adrenaline started pumping the minute he heard Robert Hamilton was waiting for him. So, though he tried to hide how badly he wanted to know what was up with his girl, though the last thing he wanted was to let on how much he cared, he’d grown tired of this exchange and needed to steer the conversation in that direction.
He gritted his teeth. “Tell me what you came for then fuckin’ leave.”
“Tiffany dated a guy. She broke it off two months ago. He’s been…”
He held his breath, wondering if it was the same guy he’d seen her with two years ago, wondering why it ended, wondering a slew of other shit he shouldn’t be concerned about but couldn’t help but wonder.
Hamilton cleared his throat. “…Insisting.”
Insisting? He bit his tongue, looked away from him toward his left. A dark counter lined the length of the room. Behind it, a desk and a couple of computers. He saw this, tried with everything he had to focus on those computers, that counter, so he wouldn’t ask. Hamilton was making it hard, he’d hesitated again, hesitated long enough he felt heat rise up his cheeks.
“Calling, emailing, showing up at her apartment…” Hamilton sighed then bowed his head.
Before he did, Cuss saw it, the pain and resolve in his gaze. Cuss understood.
Hamilton was desperate. No other way he would’ve gone to him, to his club whether or not it’s what the club did for a living. Hamilton had the money to pay them to do the job, and still, he didn’t trust anyone but him. So scared out of his mind for Tiffany, his daughter, he needed to add a personal element, someone who knew and cared about his only child enough to ensure it would be resolved. And so, Hamilton swallowed his pride and went to him.
“What else?”
Hamilton quirked a brow. “What I said is enough. It’s more than enough considering she tells he
r mother and I bits and pieces.”
He had a point. Cuss would do the job, but he wanted all the facts. “Where’s the boyfriend?”
Hamilton’s eyes widened.
“Last I heard, she had a man. Her man should be dealing with this shit, not me.”
Hamilton released a breath. “She dated someone for some time, close to two years. They ended things. When she started dating again, she caught this guy’s eye.”
He nodded. “How much?”
“Whatever it takes. Name the price, I’ll pay it.”
Damn, the man loved his daughter. Further proved it now, making it impossible to hate him.
“Five million.”
No hesitation. “Done.”
His gut soured.
It was bad, worse than he thought.
He fisted his hands then without losing sight of Hamilton’s eyes, he jerked his head side to side. “Not taking any money from you ’cause I do this, she’s mine.”
Hamilton stiffened, his face flamed. “I’m not trading my daughter for your services—”
“I didn’t think I was worth her.” His jaw twitched. “You made it clear you felt the same. Nothing’s changed ’cause I know I ain’t worth her, but you know what?”
He leaned into him. “I don’t give a fuck anymore. I do this, I’m taking the chance ’cause she’s been mine for years. She doesn’t know it, but I know it. She’s my girl. That means I do this, I’m gonna get a piece of her, whatever she gives me, I’m taking. You get me?”
Hamilton glared. “She isn’t anyone’s—”
“That’s where you’re wrong. All those years ago, you fucked up, ’cause she wanted me as more than just some hero. She wanted me, and I pushed her away ’cause I thought I didn’t deserve her ’cause I’m poor and she’s got money, ’cause you reinforced that shit. If we’d come to anything, she probably would’ve moved on by now, but she would’ve been safe with me, all this time. I wouldn’t’ve let anything touch her, and I would’ve had a glimpse of what I’d wanted for years.” His voice thick, rumbling.
“I didn’t get the chance. I pushed her away ’cause that’s what I thought was better for her, and I wanted the best for her. It means she didn’t get the chance to throw me out on my ass, and you know what?