Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T. #1)

by River Savage

  “You’re so bad. You know that, right?” She follows close behind me, not letting me off the hook.

  “What did you expect me to do, Pay? This whole night was your idea.” At first, I was opposed to Payton’s idea of throwing a surprise party for Liberty, but soon I learned saying no to Payton was almost as maddening as saying no to Liberty.

  “Hey, this is a brilliant idea. Trust me, she is gonna–” She’s cut off when Arabella comes running into the kitchen, crying out for her.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” She bends and scoops her up like a momma bear ready to pounce.

  “The mean man told me to go away.” Her little lip wobbles and my own papa bear instinct comes out at the sight of it. Over the last four months, Arabella has completely cemented her way into my heart as the baddest little chick I know. With quick wit and a big heart, it’s hard not to fall in love with her.

  “What mean man, baby?” Payton turns, looking for the culprit. My eyes follow the direction of Arabella’s pointed finger, centered right on Fox.

  Jesus, here we go.

  “What’s your problem, Mason?” she yells across the room, gaining the attention from our guests. The house is packed with my teammates, my mom and sister, some of Liberty’s extended family, and with permission, Sue and the boys from Haven.

  “My problem is your kid. You should keep a better eye on her. She shouldn't be talking to strangers.”

  I’ve never seen Payton and Fox exchange more than a few words. So the fact that she uses Fox’s first name isn't lost on me. But what’s more interesting is the slow smirk I see grace Fox’s face when he has her complete attention and the fact that he cares that Ara is apparently talking to strangers.

  “You did not just say that to me.” Payton hands Arabella off to me and stomps her way over to him. In all the years I’ve known Fox, he’s never warmed to kids. Hell, the idea of having kids broke up his marriage. So while his attitude toward Arabella frustrates me, it doesn’t surprise me.

  “Pretty sure I did, Payton.”

  Jesus, just what I don’t need tonight. These two at each other’s throat or worse, in each other’s bed.

  “Come on, Ara. Let’s go find Della.” I move us out of earshot, from her mother ripping Fox to shreds, and into the living room where Hart is watching a movie with his six-year-old daughter, Della, and Mitch.

  “Should I be worried about those two?” I nod back over to Fox and Payton, who are still in the middle of arguing.

  “I don’t know about them, but those two are freaking me out.” He points over to Sterling and Kota, who seem to be in a heated argument as well.

  “Jesus, I don’t have time for this crap. I have twenty minutes to get everyone ready before my pissed-off woman gets here. Everyone seems to be forgetting why we're even here.”

  “Hetch said a bad word.” Shit! I forget about small ears listening.

  “Sorry.” I cringe, not needing to be tattled on.

  “I told you this was all a bad idea.” Hart looks far too smug for a father stuck watching a Disney movie.

  “A little help would be appreciated.”

  “Do you need help, Hetch?” Mitch looks up, forgetting the movie for a second.

  “Nah, I’m okay kid.” I turn my eyes back to Hart, a silent warning that I need his help.

  “Sorry, boss. I have my hands full.” Before I can call him out, Liberty’s parents come racing through the door, followed by Liberty’s asshole brother, Jett.

  Seriously. One drama averted only to have another land in my lap.

  Leaving Ara with Della, I move toward Liberty’s mom and dad.

  “What the hell is he doing here?” I don’t hide my distaste of seeing him. This is the last thing I need right now.

  “Now, come on, Liam. He’s family.” Jack steps in closer so only I can hear.

  “Hey, I understand. But Payton is gonna be pissed. Which will only make Liberty more pissed.” I’m not telling them anything they don’t know. The girls are tight. Tighter than blood. An upset Payton equals an upset Liberty. It’s pretty simple.

  “It’s going to be fine, Liam. We will sort it out,” Connie reassures me in a way that only a mother can.

  “We have ten minutes to get everything ready.”

  “Okay then, let’s get started.” Her smile is warm, comforting and offers me the reprieve I’ve been waiting for.

  If anyone can fix this mess in less than ten minutes, it’s Connie Jenson.

  She will make it all right.

  She has to, otherwise, this will be all for nothing.

  Seriously, why the hell did I agree to this?

  LIBERTY

  twenty minutes later

  The house is dark when I step through the door. Beer in hand, I call out for Hetch, only to hear nothing in return.

  “Hetch, what’s going on?” I drop my handbag on the hall table and kick my heels off. “Seriously, you better freaking be here, because I swear to God if you were called in, I’m gonna lose it,” I continue to rant as I walk toward the darkened kitchen and flick the light switch on.

  “SURPRISE!” The screaming and hollering from over thirty people startles me enough to drop the six pack of bottled beer on my feet, and my own scream to escape my mouth.

  “Oh, God!” I jump back in pain and shock as a sea of faces stand before me with bright grins and outstretched hands.

  “Shit, sweetheart. Are you okay?” Hetch is there in front of me, pushing everyone back and crowding my space. The tears come right away as pain shoots up my foot in a dull ache.

  “I don’t know?” I look down at the mess of beer and broken glass, to find my foot swelling and bruising. Hetch assesses the situation and then picks me up in one fluid movement, planting me on the counter.

  “Someone get some ice,” he calls out while checking out the damage.

  “What? What’s going on?” Confusion, pain, and embarrassment fill me as I look down at him squatting in front of me.

  “I’m sorry, baby. This was a bad idea.” I wince as he clears glass from my foot. I’m mildly aware of the blood, but I'm more focused on the faces I see crowding me. Mom, Dad. Payton. Family I haven’t seen in ages. Even Sue and the boys are here to celebrate with me.

  “This is why none of you called me today?” I cry harder, my tears falling freely as I put it all together.

  How did I not pick up on this?

  “Hey, don’t cry.” Hetch stands and wipes at my face, just as my mom comes forward with an ice pack.

  “Don’t cry? Do you know what I’ve been thinking all day?” The sobs prevent me from being able to talk clearly, but I don’t stop.

  “I thought you all forgot about me.” A low lull in conversation tells me everyone is witnessing my freak-out. “How crazy is that?” A bubble of laughter fills the air as I realize how stupid it was of me to think that.

  “Aww, Bertie.” Mom looks almost as stricken as I feel. “I’m sorry, sweetie. We just wanted it to be perfect.” Her eyes flick to Hetch before coming back to mine.

  “This is…. You did all this?”

  “With the help of Payton.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal. But this is a big deal.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I whisper so only Hetch can hear me.

  “You can say thank you and not be pissed at me.”

  “Oh, I’m still pissed at you.” I level my best you-are-in-big-trouble stare at him. “You made me stop for beer.” The beer I just dropped on my foot.

  “For the record, he thought of that dumb move on his own,” Payton shouts from the back of the crowd. Her confession pulls out a surge of laughter from everyone around us.

  “Yeah, that was mean. But I’m gonna make it up to you.” He kisses me deeply before I can tell him it’s not needed.

  Yeah, I had a shitty day, followed by the start of a shitty night, but none of that matters. Not when I have everything I want here.

  Family, friends, my boys from Haven, and him.

  Hetch.r />
  The man who risks his life to save others. The man I almost lost.

  He's a survivor and a fighter, but most of all, he's my glasses.

  HETCH

  Four hours later

  “How’s the foot feeling?” I ask when the last of our guests have left for the night, and she’s sneaking a second slice of cake.

  “It’s okay. The alcohol helped.” She looks down at her now bandaged foot and shrugs. After icing it for an hour, one of her aunts, who happens to be a nurse, patched her up and gave her the all clear to move about. Me, concerned more than I probably should have been, never left her side, carrying her around whenever she let me.

  “You have no idea how terrible I feel about that.” I step in close. My eyes lock onto her mouth as she wraps her red lips around the fork.

  “You can make it up to me now.” Her tongue comes out, licking at a dab of icing on her bottom lip. I don’t know if she’s doing it on purpose or if she has no fucking clue how sexy she is.

  “Whatever you need, baby.” My cock hardens, and my balls tighten.

  “You, I just need you, Hetch.” Her words shift something inside of me. Her acceptance warming me. Her simple need calling me.

  This woman, she’s given me grace when I didn’t deserve it, peace when I didn’t know I wanted it, and love when no one else could.

  Because of her, I've been given a life I never knew I was missing.

  “Ask me what I know,” I whisper, knowing not what I want to do, but what I need to do. Her eyes close briefly before she opens them at my words. They fall on the faint scars on my neck. She does that sometimes, just stares at them as though she needs it to anchor herself.

  “What do you know?” She’s smiling now, our little “I know” game becoming a part of who we are.

  “I know I love you.” I gently press my lips to hers, kissing and breathing her in. “I know you’re the most important person in my life.” My lips move to her nose, gently pecking the tip. “I also know because of me, you’ve had a really shitty day.” I pepper each kiss over her jawline, working my way up to her mouth.

  “No, it was amazing.” She tries to deny it, but we both know it’s true.

  “But most of all, Liberty, I know more than anything this is it for me, sweetheart. This chaotic, crazy life is it.” I release my hold of her and drop to one knee right in front of her. I hadn’t planned on doing it tonight, especially not in the kitchen of our house, but there’s no stopping it now. I am so in love with this woman I can’t wait.

  “Hetch? What are you doing?” She steps back, her hands move to her mouth as her eyes track me.

  “Sweetheart, I know you deserve so much more than what I’m giving you right now, but waiting another minute to ask you is going to kill me.” I pull out the small box I’ve been carrying around for the last month, waiting for the right time. “Liberty Jenson, I am so deeply in love with you, most days it hurts. The only way you could cure me is by marrying me.”

  She waits for a beat, then another two, then her mouth moves but nothing comes out.

  “Sweetheart?” I press, wondering if I'm reading it all wrong.

  “D-did you practice that speech?” She grins down at me, and my heart kicks up a beat. It’s the same response she gave me when I asked her to move in with me.

  I can’t help but grin back up at her. Fuck, I love this woman.

  “Yeah, this time with props.” I lift the ring her mother and father cried over, when I showed them last month, out of the box and present it to her. “Did it win you over?”

  “You didn’t have to win me, Hetch. You had me already.” Her hands move to either side of my face. Cupping my jaw, she leans down and presses her lips to mine.

  “Is that a yes, sweetheart?” My lips move over hers, not willing to accept anything else.

  “Yes. Yes, Liam Hetcherson, I will marry you.” My lips crash to hers, owning them like she owns me.

  Tension flows from her body into mine as I take it all from her.

  Her taste.

  Her acceptance.

  Her love.

  My father used to say to get to the end, we have to go back to the start.

  This is one of my moments. She is one of my people. Her love has redefined the type of person I have become.

  And because of her, I am never going to be the same again.

  Thank-you

  Thank you for reading Hetch. I hope you enjoyed his story. Would you like to receive sneak peaks before anyone else? Click here to signup for my newsletter and never miss another announcement about upcoming projects, new release, sales and exclusive excerpts and giveaways.

  Want a sneak peak of my other works. Then turn the page!

  Incandescent

  Book one in the Knights Rebels MC series

  PROLOGUE

  The rumble of a motorcycle wakes me from my sleep, stirring the once peaceful night. Reaching out to Zane, my hand finds the coolness of the empty sheets.

  “Zane?” I whisper into the darkness. Looking toward the red light of his alarm clock illuminating the otherwise pitch-black room, the clock numbers blink incessantly.

  A shiver of alarm runs through me as though ice just replaced my spine. My heart beats double time, the rhythm now matching the rapid blinking of the clock. Something doesn’t feel right.

  Grabbing my robe from the end of the bed, I wrap it around myself and creep out of the bedroom in search of my fiancé.

  “Zane,” I whisper again as I walk down the long darkened hall.

  The burning stench hits me first, its strength potent enough to overpower my taste buds. A wave of heat blankets me as it takes a moment to register the dangerous flames dancing before my eyes. The front of my four-bedroom home burns rapidly, engulfing everything in sight.

  I stand fixed, mesmerized by the bright orange cinder, as if the seductive blaze calls to me.

  The house shudders; the explosion knocks me off balance, forcing me down to the shaky ground. Dazed, I drop to my hands and begin to crawl my way to the back door, the hallway now swallowed by the blackened smoke. The open flames lick out as I force myself to the only available exit.

  Reaching the door, my fingers close around the brass handle. The metal singes my skin but doesn’t stop me in my escape. Panic stirs when the handle doesn’t turn. Frantically, I pull harder, wrestling with the lock.

  Inky darkness fogs my view as I struggle to fill my lungs. My breathing labors, my fight slowing.

  I don’t want to die.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Kadence

  three years later

  Sitting at my desk, I hold in my frustration. This meeting is not how I wanted to end my workday. I look across at the angry brown eyes of one very upset father. Mr. Hill leans forward, just as irritated at the wait.

  His son, Tommy, sits by his side, the black eye he earned in class today is almost swollen shut.

  Zayden Knight sits on the opposite side of the room waiting quietly for his mother to arrive. His dark, overgrown hair hangs over his forehead, covering one eye. Zayden is the last person I’d expect to deliver the punch. If I hadn’t had seen him with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.

  I requested both parents meet me at three; it’s now quarter past the hour. The classroom clock ticks over, another minute that she’s late. Mr. Hill clears his throat and I look up, about to apologize again for the delay, when the door pushes open.

  My eyes do a quick sweep of the tall man as he walks forward, but the sound of his motorcycle boots squeaking on the vinyl floor draws my attention. The fact that a man just walked into my classroom unannounced doesn’t register to me; instead, the leather riding boots hold me captive, sending me back to the night that I don’t ever want to relive. I force my eyes up, the leather of his cut pushing me deeper into the memory, and for a split second, I think he’s someone else.

  Anger slowly creeps its way up my spine. My eyes frantically sweep his chest; the patch sewn on the left side of his ves
t comes into view reading Knights Rebels MC. Exhaling a breath I didn’t know I was holding, I will my erratic heart to calm. It’s not them.

  Everyone in Rushford knows who the Knights Rebels are. Years ago, our small town feared them; known to run on the wrong side of the law, people kept their distance. The Rebels ran this town the way they saw fit. Guns, drugs and women, they went above and beyond the law. I’m not sure what happened, but a few years back, they started cleaning their act up and they now hold the respect of most of the town. Charity runs keep them active in the community; their crazy parties keep them popular with the women, but most importantly, keeping the drugs out of town earns them that respect.

  I keep my distance. Associating with them is something I’ve never done, even if they have cleaned up their act. After what happened with Zane, my asshole ex, I avoid people like them. I know all too well what they’re capable of, the reminder branded on my skin.

  Pulling my thoughts from the past, I look up at the man who just barged into my classroom.

  “Hello, can I help you?” I address him, standing from my chair and walking around the front of the desk. He ignores me and goes straight to where Zayden sits.

  “Hey, buddy, how you doin’?” he squats down to Zayden’s level.

  “Hey, Dad.” Zayden carefully looks up, a glum expression on his face. He lowers his head, and I wonder how much trouble he will find himself in tonight.

  I had no idea Zayden’s dad was a part of the MC. The name Knight clicks in my head and it all falls into place. Shit, he’s not just part of the MC. His family is the MC.

  The man eventually looks up at me, finally giving me his attention. His watchful gaze follows the length of me before he stands to full height. His dark hair is a sexy mess, as if he just ran his hand through it. The five o’clock shadow over his tense jaw shows signs of graying; not in an old man kind of way, but that of a sexy, hot, older guy. His piercing green eyes, the color of jade, make me look twice.