by Marie James
“Let’s go get breakfast,” he says offering his hand to me.
I’m numb with regret and words unspoken for a man I never really knew. Knowing I’ll never be able to confront him for twenty plus years of wrong doing sits heavy in my stomach.
Walking into the kitchen for breakfast, I notice two things at once. One, the women seemed to have found most of their clothes overnight, a fact I’m grateful for. I was very uneasy last night knowing BT was in a room of half-naked women, even though he didn’t show one hint of interest in them. Two, Darby is sitting in Snatch’s lap like she’s known him all her life.
I smile at her as we make our way to the buffet of food on the counter. The room is full of members wearing leather vests and women chatting. The noise and interaction are refreshing since I’d been all but solitary for the last couple of weeks.
We load up our plates and head over to a nearly empty table across the room. A very young, clearly sullen girl looks up from the cup of coffee she’s staring in as if it holds all the answers in life. I give her a gentle smile because not long ago I had that same look on my face.
“Hi,” I say placing my plate on the table. “I’m Aviana,” I smile at BT as he settles in beside me.
“Khloe,” she says. I see her peer across the room before she gets up, leaving her still full coffee on the table.
I raise my eyes and look in the direction she’d just stared in finding a young biker, staring at her retreating back. He looks sadden by her departure but doesn’t make a move to follow her out of the room. Trouble in paradise it seems. He looks my direction, nodding his head in acknowledgment. I lower my eyes immediately, embarrassed to have been caught staring at him. I don’t know their story and probably never will, but the tension between the two could easily be cut with a knife.
I feel a presence beside me and lift my eyes to see Darby settling in Khloe’s vacant seat.
“We’re heading out in an hour or so,” BT says from my other side.
I look back to Darby. “You going to be ready to go?”
She looks over in the direction I know Snatch is sitting in. “Change of plans,” she says with a smile from ear to ear. “I think I’m going to stay here for a bit.”
I raise both my eyebrows at her, but she’s watching him across the room, paying me no mind. I look over and see Snatch sitting leaned back deep in his chair with a satisfied look on his face.
“Do you think that’s the best idea?” I ask her, having no idea what this MC is like. They seem like nice people, but without interacting with them, I honestly have no idea.
“She’s welcome to stay as long as she likes,” I hear from across the table. Kincaid, as he was introduced to me last night, has sat down with a beautiful blonde while I was distracted by Darby. The woman beside him is absolutely beautiful, and she doesn’t seem to have a problem with another woman joining the group.
“Emmalyn,” she says holding her hand out to me. I shake it with a smile. Not exactly the type of woman you’d expect to see in the middle of a motorcycle club, but I’m quickly learning my perceptions, mainly reinforced by too many episodes of SOA, are clearly wrong.
“You sure?” I ask Darby again.
“Absolutely,” she answers. Kissing me on the cheek, she stands from the table and returns to the waiting, tattooed arms of the scariest biker in this place.
***
The plane ride back to Tampa is spent in silence. I had a million questions last night, and those have only seemed to double after the news of my father’s death. As we draw closer to Florida, they’ve taken over completely.
I turn slightly in my seat and look at BT only to find him watching me. He smiles at me and holds the hand in my lap tighter. My abduction and rescue have taken over his life, and I’m grateful for him dropping his life back home and coming to find me. This is also the reason I’m unsure about how much my life is going to be tangled with his.
I drop my eyes to my hands, unable to formulate the questions I have into actual sentences.
He tilts my chin back up, forcing me to look into his eyes.
“Come home with me,” he whispers as if he can read my mind and all the doubts I have about returning to Florida.
“I may never want to leave again,” I counter.
“That’s my hope,” he says before his mouth crashes against mine, almost indecently considering we’re in the middle of a commercial plane.
Epilogue
Aviana
My incredible luck, since BT came into my life, thankfully, hasn’t run out.
Returning home and having to plan a small memorial for my father was tough, but manageable with BT by my side. I never returned to the acting studio, deciding I was no longer going to waste my life or time on things that had no future. With BT’s help, I was able to get into the University of Tampa, focusing on counseling. Sports medicine seemed like a good idea, but I realized that helping people heal from the inside out is going to be more rewarding for me than helping with sports injuries and such.
BT has continued to work as a personal trainer, but he too stopped the acting classes. He’s had several more offers for book covers and has photo shoots scheduled with several well-known photographers, including one with the incredible Christopher John next month. I found out after moving in with him that he has a worldwide fan base of women and men alike. That took some getting used to, but he’s never given me any reason to doubt his loyalty to me and our growing relationship.
Walking into the house that seamlessly became my home after returning from Vegas, I hang my purse in the hall closet and seek out my other half.
I catch him carrying a large covered dish from the kitchen to the dining room table. He stops in his tracks when he notices me standing in the doorway.
“You’re home early,” he says somewhat guiltily.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Just what kind of trouble are you getting into, Mr. Urruela,” I ask taking in the perfect place settings at the table and the tall candles waiting to be lit.
He grins from ear to ear. “Spaghetti. If memory serves, you love it.”
“No garlic bread?” I tease.
“Not a fucking chance,” he says. “Have a seat, baby. Let me grab the wine.”
I sit down to the table and wonder just what he has up his sleeves. Most days we make a quick dinner together then hang out in the living room, chatting quietly while we eat. It’s Tuesday, which is a weird day for a romantic dinner for two, but I’m not going to snub my nose at it, that’s for sure.
BT carries the wine to the table but leans in for a kiss before pulling away and leaving me breathless. This man is absolute perfection. I never wake up in the morning or leave the house for work or school and not feel every ounce of his love.
He pours us each a glass of burgundy wine and takes a seat beside me. I just watch him as he dishes out delicious smelling spaghetti. It’s not exactly a gourmet meal, but it’s very us.
He winks at me as he places the serving spoon back in the dish and picks up his own fork.
I mimic his actions, but can’t seem to concentrate enough to eat. He seems to be struggling due to the smile across his face.
“What’s going on?” I ask reaching for my glass of wine.
“Do you remember the first time we had spaghetti at this table?” I nod. “That was six months ago.”
“Are you the type of guy who celebrates half year anniversaries?” I ask with a smirk.
“Clearly,” he says and waves his hand as if showcasing the spread before us.
“I love that about you,” I admit.
“I love you,” he says placing his fork down on his plate.
I watch him straighten his leg and pull a small box from his pocket. My heart sputters and then beats wildly in my chest. We’ve promised each other forever. We say it often, but I never expected this.
“I got you something,” he says placing the black velvet box beside my plate. “Open it,” he insists when my hand stutters to a s
top on the top of it without picking it up.
Slowly, I pull the box from the table and pop open the lid. Just as I’m about to scream ‘YES’ I see a beautiful set of pink diamond earrings in my hand. I swallow roughly, trying to shove down the disappointment and give this man the thanks he deserves for such a beautiful gift.
I’m unable to catch the tear that threads its way down my cheek.
“Thank you,” I finally manage to look up at him. “They’re beautiful.”
“You seem...” he pauses, “disappointed.”
I shake my head no, lying to him for the first time in our relationship.
I feel him move closer, but do my best to school my face before looking at him again.
“Maybe this will help?” he asks.
I look up and find him kneeling in front of me, displaying the most amazing diamond ring I’ve ever seen.
“You asshole,” I say through sobs of happiness.
“Is that a yes?”
I nod my head feverishly and jump into his arms, knocking us both to the floor.
Acknowledgments
This usually the hardest part of the book to write (well, other than that damn blurb.)
This go around for some reason seems so easy. There are so many people to thank, so many generous people who’ve helped to make this book a reality.
First and foremost, extreme recognition goes to the man of the hour, BT Urruela. One simple post on another model’s page forced me into action. BT requested a FanFiction of his own, and I knew I had to be the one to oblige. BT is the epitome of humble sacrifice. He’s sacrificed so much for his country, his fans, and I’m willing to bet he’s nowhere near done yet.
When speaking with BT about this book, his direction was ‘complete chaos’, but then of course followed that up with “but nothing too crazy.” This book may be the only Marie James books he’s read, and I’m certain after reading it, he’s wishing he had given more specific directions. Nonetheless, he’s given me the go ahead to publish, which I’m forever grateful. There are hints of BT’s life throughout the book, as any fan who stalks himself regularly will be able to pick out with ease. If at any point in the book, you questioned whether or not the character was displaying ‘odd for BT’ traits, that’s all on me. Please keep in mind it is a FanFiction, meaning not much of it is real.
Secondly, I want to thank Christopher John for donating the fabulous picture on the cover. He didn’t hesitate once when I explained exactly what I was doing for the book. He’s checked up regularly on the progress as it was written and is genuinely excited about reading it.
The wonderful Kari Ayasha did the magnificent cover design and also donated her services. She’s created each and every one of my covers, and I remain humbled by her talent.
Give Me Books also donated their time and skills for the promotional part of making sure SINdicate reached as many people as it could. They have been wonderful to work with on promotions for most of my books. Any author seeking a wide audience should consider using them.
I want to thank my husband, Author JA Essen for always believing in me, supporting me with my crazy writing, and for always being the one I feel comfortable bouncing ideas off of. He also helped with editing on SINdicate and I always value his skills and attention to detail.
I would get absolutely nowhere without my BETA team. Brittney, Brenda, Shannon, Diane, Amanda, Charlie, Tammy, Jessica, and Kendra are vital to the success of my books. They keep me grounded when I need, and sometimes even ride my ass when I’m not getting things done fast enough. They helped with inspiration for SINdicate by posting some of the most phenomenal pictures of BT in our private group, but seriously have we ever seen a non-phenomenal picture of BT? I haven’t seen one yet I don’t love!
Brittney Crabtree… What can I say about my main bitch to even give her half as much credit as she deserves? She’s my rock in this crazy Indie world. She’s talked me off the ledge more than once, and I know I can trust her to not blow smoke up my ass. If something isn’t working or if my attitude gets out of hand, she’s always there to give me the kick in the ass I need. Numerous phone calls, hours of plotting and opinions on not just this book but several of my last ones have been provided without so much as one complaint. She’s invaluable to literary empire I’m working desperately to build! Love you sKunt.
To all my fans, without you none of this would even be possible. I never imagined a year ago when I sat down to write the first sentence in Coming to Hale did I ever imagine that there would someone out there who would even want to read it. My fan base is comprised of some of the best women (and a couple of FanBoys) I could ever be associated with. Thanks for coming along this wonderful ride with me!!
*Side note* If there are any grammatical errors in this section, blame me. My BETAs don’t get to proof read this section of the book until it goes live.
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Hale Series
Coming to Hale
Begging for Hale
Hot as Hale
To Hale and Back
Hale Series Box Set
Love Me Like That
Cerberus MC
Kincaid
Kid
(Kid releases June 22nd)
Psychosis
Matthew Hosea FanFiction Novella
Co-write with Gina Sevani
Kincaid
By
Marie James
Copyright
Kincaid
Copyright © 2016 Marie James
Editing by Mr. Marie James & Hale’s Harem Betas ;)
Cover design by Kari Ayasha of Cover to Cover Designs
EBooks are not transferrable. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale, or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Prologue
“Weapon!” I hear one of the SWAT guys in front of me yell. The sound of weapons discharging rings out, lasting mere seconds.
I’m fourth in line behind three Denver Police Department SWAT Officers, which means we split off in all directions once we cross the threshold into the dank, dark home. The smell inside is putrid and makes me immediately feel the need to shower. Most meth houses are like this, and I cringe knowing that a child has been living in these conditions.
One officer begins checking pulses on the three individuals in the living room. Another officer splits off into a bedroom to clear the closet, and the third clears another bedroom, leaving me with the kitchen. I can easily tell there are no other visible threats, but a sound from behind a closed door draws my attention. With my M4 at the ready, I turn the door knob and tug the door open.
“Holy fuck!” I gasp when I see a woman curled up on the floor of the tiny closet. “Josie? Joselyne Bennett?” I say doing my best to gain some composure.
“Yes,” she mutters weakly.
I would’ve never told Kaleb this, but I was certain we’d find Josie dead if we ever found her body at all. My chest constricts the way it always does when a situation turns out opposite of how I imagined it. Absolute, pure joy is what I’m feeling at the moment, but my face falls when I see the condition she’s in. She’s not out of the woods
yet.
“Girl, we’ve been looking for your ass everywhere!” I can hardly contain my joy at knowing my cousin will not have to deal with the death of the woman he loves.
“Jesus didn’t know I was in the closet?” she asks with a hoarse voice.
Jesus? She’s delirious, no doubt from being starved and hog-tied in here for weeks.
“You being here is a miracle, darlin’, but this ain’t heaven. My name is Diego Anderson, and I have a cousin that’s going to be beside himself knowing we found you.”
I can tell she’s trying and failing to open her eyes against what has to be blinding light for her.
“Kaleb,” she whispers, and I can see the tremble of her lip.
I step out of the way as the SWAT team leader enters the room. I leave the room to head outside planning to call Kaleb, but I find him standing in the hallway looking into one of the bedrooms. He’s sobbing uncontrollably having no concern for the tears rolling down his face.
I walk up and clasp him on the shoulder. “Kaleb,” I whisper trying to get his attention. “She’s asking for you, man.”
He turns so quickly toward me he nearly loses his footing. I look past him and wince as a clearly deceased woman comes into view.
“What?” he asks with a slight shake of his head.
“Josie, man,” I tell him gently pulling him from the doorway and down the narrow hall. “Keep your shit together in there, Kaleb. She’s been through hell and looks it,” I warn him. “But you have to keep it together, man.” He nods as he makes his way into the crowded kitchen.
At the sight of her curled up on a filthy blanket just outside of the door he gasps, both in relief and torment from seeing her like this. I keep my hand on his back until he crouches down beside her.