by Juli Valenti
Synopsis
Sarah O’Fallen was nothing like the people she’d met in the Hells Redemption Motorcycle Club. She was a nurse, whose heart focused on saving lives and harming none, seeing everything in nothing but blacks and whites. Except, all that changed on a random Friday afternoon.
After spending a night in jail, for a crime she didn’t commit, something changed in her. Sarah found herself amongst shades of gray, where the world wasn’t fair and choices were often made in the heat of the moment.
Lukas “Fallen” Belrose, the infamous man-whore and Sergeant in Arms of HR, had only ever cared about three things in life: his club, his band, and the women in his bed. With a hair-trigger and a cold, heartless side of his personality, he was far from ideal boyfriend material. That didn’t keep him from wanting Sarah, however.
But can their relationship survive the drama - the club violence, his reputation? Will Sarah be able to make a life in the crazy MC world she’s stumbled into? Or will her universe collapse, making her lose herself entirely?
Copyright © 2017 Juli Valenti
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Editing by Kristina Circelli with Red Road Editing
www.facebook.com/RedRoadEditing
Cover & Formatting by Rene Folsom with Phycel Designs
www.Phycel.com
Dedication
For my number one fan, my best friend, and the man who taught me that some prayers actually get answered. Greg, this one’s for you, baby.
Chapter One
“Tell me the truth, Sarah,” Vinny demanded from across the table, his tone sharp and hateful despite the openness of his expression.
Sarah couldn’t help but groan internally. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind what he was going to ask, and he wasn’t going to like the answer. That was the thing with him ... he always asked questions he didn’t want answers to, which was one of the biggest reasons they’d stopped dating a year ago. Why he even still lived there was a mystery to her. Of course, she could’ve demanded he move out, but she worked a lot of hours at the hospital, and she wasn’t home most of her days off anyway. Except this afternoon, of course, which she was now regretting. And all she’d wanted was a nice, peaceful fast food lunch before she caught a few Zs.
Putting down her hamburger, frustrated and annoyed, she merely looked at the man, waiting.
“Are you talking to that biker?”
That biker ... Lukas. Fallen. The man who consumed her thoughts when she was awake, her dreams when she wasn’t. The man, who, in the months and months they’d been seeing each other, had yet to lay a single sexual finger on her. The proclaimed man-whore who kept them platonic. She’d stayed at the clubhouse with him, she’d been to his apartment, he’d been to hers when Vinny was away, and still he’d done nothing more than put his arm around her, or lightly kiss her cheek. Frankly, it was getting irritating.
“Yes,” she answered truthfully, seeing no reason to lie. “I am.”
“I fucking knew it. God you’re transparent as hell.” With that, he stood from the table, his fingertips gripping tightly against the glass, his knuckles turning white and the muscles in his arms straining as he bent his head. From where she sat she could tell he was trying to breathe, trying to keep himself together, keep his temper down, but, like always, she also knew he’d fail. The number one reason their relationship had disintegrated.
As calmly as she could manage, she wrapped the remainder of her sandwich in its paper and tossed it in the garbage beside her. The soda she hadn’t been drinking followed before she, too, got to her feet and inched away. Inwardly she hoped he wouldn’t notice her, but he did, his gaze snapping up, his arms reaching for her.
Dodging him, she scrambled backward. Nothing good would come of things if he got his hands on her, or so history had taught her.
“Give me your phone,” he demanded, and, out of habit more than anything, she conceded, handing it over. Eyes narrowed, he glared at her before peering down at the cell phone in his hands, his fingers frantically searching for evidence of a relationship, of things he could use against her in the coming verbal lashing he was planning. But there wasn’t anything to find.
In the years they’d been together, Sarah learned Vinny’s tricks. She’d known he’d installed key logging software on her laptop and on her tablet, effectively tracking her every word typed. Once he’d had it on her phone as well, but when she last upgraded, he hadn’t gotten around to doing the same. And she’d used that to her advantage, using an integrated app on it that deleted messages the minute it was closed out.
“Well ... you’ve learned to cover your tracks at least,” he murmured before tossing the phone onto the wooden bookcase, the loud thud causing her to wince.
A thousand ways to reach it darted through her head - she needed that phone. Distantly she could hear him continue to berate her, his voice rising as his tirade went on without her listening. Years of conditioning kept her eyes on him, though her thoughts clouded, pinpointing on the promise of salvation just beside him.
“You’re such a goddamned slut, and I’m going to make sure everyone knows it. Your boss, your coworkers - everyone. You’ll be ruined in this godforsaken town, not that it says much. Stupid fucking place. I can’t believe I let you talk me into moving here. And for what? For a cheating whore of a girlfriend. You want him so bad? Get the fuck out and go to him.”
Sarah took a deep breath, words of defense and denial on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them. It didn’t matter how many times she reminded him she wasn’t his girlfriend, she was nothing more than a roommate. It never sank in. And while he fucked anything with two legs, he still expected her to come back. So, remaining silent, she dashed forward, snatching her phone off the bookcase just as his arms reached out for her. She tucked the electronic into the pocket of her scrubs moments before his hands were in front of her, her own flinging out in an attempt to stop him. They didn’t; he continued coming toward her, his arm dragging along one of her nails in an attempt to grab her.
Instinct took over and she threw herself away, toward the couch, out of his space. Watching frantically as he came at her, she ripped the phone from her pocket and dialed 911.
“911, is this a fire, medical, or other emergency?” a tinny voice questioned from the other end.
“My ex-boyfriend is coming at me. He has a history of throwing me into walls and I just want him to leave me alone.”
“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Sarah. Like they’ll ever believe you anyway ... Nice try. Get the fuck off the phone,” Vinny demanded, though his feet remained rooted in the carpet, his expression angry and his hand half-extended.
“Ma’am, does he have a weapon?”
“No, not that I know of, at least. But he doesn’t need one. Trust me, he’s plenty weapon enough.”
“You really called?” Vinny asked, disbelieving, though when she didn’t answer his expression morphed and he lunged forward, attempting to grab the cell phone once more. “Give me that!”
“Get away from me! Don’t touch me!” she yelped, her voice cracking, the hand still holding the phone shaking so
badly it vibrated against her cheek.
“Sarah? Is that your name?” the 911 operator questioned.
“Yes. Sarah O’Fallen.”
“Sarah, you talk to me now. My name is Tony. Don’t talk to him, don’t look at him. You talk to me. I have units on their way to the scene. Focus on me, okay?”
She nodded, though he couldn’t see the gesture. As she inched around the couch, putting it between her and her ex, she answered, “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry.”
After long minutes, a loud bang came from the front door and she sprinted toward it, climbing over the couch as she went and tears free-falling from her eyes. She opened it to find two large, uniformed police officers peering down at her, detached. Sarah mumbled that the police were there to Tony and hung up, so grateful to see the badged men she could have hugged them.
The two men moved quickly, one moving her into the kitchen and the other taking Vinny outside. When he was out of the house, the officer’s gaze took her in, from her scrubs to her makeup-smeared face, before asking what happened.
As precisely as she could, she recounted the ordeal, openly admitting that she’d been talking with the biker he’d accused her of talking to. She told him how the last time he caught her talking to a man he’d thrown her into the wall so hard she slipped a disk in her spine. She also explained that they’d broken up a long time ago, that she was dumb for letting him stay, but she’d felt bad for trying to kick him out the last time. After all, he’d moved there to be with her after she’d gotten the job with St. Agnes after nursing school.
“Did he hit you?”
She shook her head. “No, I called before it could happen again. I was scared he’d go that far. He came at me but I put my hands up ... I think I scratched him on accident; my nail is broken,” she told him, holding out her hand, “but I was just trying to keep him at arm’s distance. I didn’t know what else to do.”
The dark-skinned officer, Corbin, nodded thoughtfully, scribbling on a notepad as the front door opened once more. His partner, an older gentleman, looked at him and inclined his head. Corbin murmured that he’d be back before he disappeared outside. Grasping her phone, she caught sight of missed messages from Lukas, and she quickly typed a clipped reply.
*Sarah: Can’t talk. Police here. Explain later.*
Moments later, Officer Corbin re-entered her apartment and made his way to her, his steps hard and sure as he neared her.
“Ms. O’Fallen, I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m going to have to place you under arrest.”
Sarah’s world spun and she felt sick, lightheaded, and confused. “I’m sorry, you what?”
“It’s not that big of a deal, Ms. O’Fallen, but the thing is he has a mark and you don’t. And, by law, we have to take you in. So I’m going to need to ask you to put your hands behind your back.”
Astonished and sputtering, she did as the cop asked her, cringing as the cold, hard metal of his cuffs bound her wrists. She was in her worst nightmare, except she wasn’t waking up. Sadly, it was just like Vinny had always told her - no one would ever believe her. And now, there she was ... being arrested. Worse, she was the one who’d called them, hoping they’d save her.
“Sarah O’Fallen, you are under arrest for domestic battery. You have the right to remain silent. If you choose to give up that right, anything you say or do can, and will, be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford one, one will be appointed to you by the courts. Do you understand these rights as I’ve read them to you?”
Tears falling openly, she nodded and stared at the floor as they slipped her driver’s license into her pocket. Officer Corbin grabbed her by the elbow and led her out of the front door and onto the sidewalk, passing the bushes that blocked their condo from sight of the neighbors, and into the public parking lot. Sarah didn’t dare glance up, didn’t dare look at how many people were watching her get carted out in handcuffs, still in her work scrubs from that morning’s shift.
He loaded her into the back of the police SUV like she’d seen in so many episodes of COPS and Law & Order. She was idly surprised the seats weren’t leather or cloth, but a hard plastic, and smaller than normal seats in a vehicle. The car was equipped with the standard black fencing, which separated the front to the back, the police laptop clear in her view.
As Officer Corbin shut the door and moved around to the front, opening his door, her phone rang. She could see Luke’s picture flashing on the screen and desperately wished she could pick it up, though she knew the cop wouldn’t let her.
“Who’s that?” he asked curiously, angling the phone toward her for a better view. A part of her, the one not in complete denial about what was going on, grinned, taking in the gorgeous jaw line and hazel eyes of the Sergeant in Arms of Hells Redemption. The man looked damn good in his MC cut and his smile could take down even the strongest of women.
“My boyfriend,” Sarah answered, sniffling, not having a better explanation. When the police officer shot a glance at her, she sighed. “I told you. Vinny and I haven’t been together in a long, long time. This is such crap.”
“Really, it’s not that big of a deal. You’ll get taken in, booked, and as soon as you get in front of a judge, they’ll more than likely just let you out. We’ve run your license - you’ve never even had a parking ticket. First offense, you won’t be there long. But I’d suggest you find new living arrangements, because this one is clearly not good for you.”
“I know,” she said, wishing she could wipe her eyes. Her arms were already cramping, the awkward angle putting strain on her shoulders, her fingers falling asleep where they rested under her ass. “But ... if you’re really going to arrest me for hitting him, can you at least un-cuff me a minute, let me break the bastard’s nose, and then arrest me?”
Officer Corbin stifled a chuckle and wiped the look of astonishment from his face before turning to his computer and typing what she could only assume was his report. Victim has minor scratch to arm; offender requested release to cause additional bodily harm.
Well, shit ... maybe I shouldn’t have said that out loud, she thought, settling back in the makeshift seat and staring out the window. Sarah was scared, upset, still crying with a myriad of emotions coursing through her. And, apparently, her brain-to-mouth filter had completely broken, in front of the law. Joy.
Chapter Two
Another thing television shows got wrong was the whole transport to jail thing. On TV, the cops loaded the person they arrested into the car, took them to jail, and left them there in hell. But, in reality, Sarah was learning, it was much worse than mere hell... it was the tenth circle of hell Dante forgot to write about.
She’d been prepared for Officer Corbin to drive her to the clink, so when he pulled into the parking lot of a large office building, she was confused. Vainly, hope sprang inside her - maybe he’d just arrested her to put on a show for Vinny, let him believe she’d been carted off behind bars only to let her out of the car to find safety. But, like her mom always said, hope in one hand and shit in the other and see which one filled up faster.
“What are we doing here?” she asked him, uncomfortable and hot, the New Mexico sun brutal through the window glass.
“Waiting on transport. We’re their next stop ... shouldn’t be more than a half hour or so.”
The cop’s explanation was automatic, said as if she should understand the entire routine. It made complete sense to him, but not to her, and she told him so. Sighing, he continued on.
“County is too far with traffic for us to take our prisoners in. So there are transport vans that meet up with us to take you down to lockup.”
Sarah was about to say something she probably shouldn’t, but her phone ringing once more stopped her. Again, the officer held her phone up, Luke’s face flashing across it stilling her. He was more than likely worried - when she’d texted him, she had full intentions of being able to follow up with a reasonable explanation in a reasonable amount of
time. This, though, was going to be anything but reasonable. The entire day was turning out to be very unreasonable.
There she was, in ugly teal scrubs, in handcuffs, in the back of a police car, after calling the police for help. She’d essentially called the cops on her own damned self, which was beautiful, poetic, and pathetic all at the same time ... Something she couldn’t get over and would never live down if anyone found out.
If she was in Luke’s shoes, she’d be freaking out, automatically assuming the worst. Though, with him, the worst would be way worse than what she was going through. She didn’t know the details of his club business, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess. Where she was concerned, however, the Sergeant in Arms of Hells Redemption was almost violently protective. He’d kept her close at functions around other bikers, never leaving her alone around those who didn’t exist within his inner circle. When out and about, he always had a watchful eye on her. It was something she loved, something she’d grown to cherish, always feeling safe when he was around.
Ironically, even with an armed policeman in the front seat, she felt anything but safe. Instead she felt betrayed, distrustful. It had taken less than an hour for her to lose all respect for the law enforcement.
Seriously. Let’s arrest the tiny brunette, who weighs less than a buck twenty-five, over the five-ten asshole, who weighs double that. Sure. That sounds like the most logical outcome to me, too. Surely she’s the more dangerous of the two. She sighed. God, I can’t believe this. So stupid.
Her inner tirade was interrupted as Officer Corbin abruptly opened his door, a white van pulling up beside them. Sarah watched as he spoke softly before coming to her side and, grasping her arm once more, helped extract her from the uncomfortable seating. He advised her to watch her head as she stepped out, her feet landing hard on the pavement. She was escorted to yet another uniformed policeman, who took hold of her other elbow.