This Crazy Forbidden Thing: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance Novel (The Knight Brothers Book 2)

by London Casey

  “Which one?” he asked. “Don’t make this hard.”

  Owen side stepped and reached for me. “Hey, sis. Someone touch you? That’s fucking assault. I’ll destroy them.”

  “Easy,” Walker said. “Let me handle this.”

  He then unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and rolled them up.

  “Tell us,” Owen said.

  “Just kick them out,” I whispered. “Don’t do anything crazy.”

  “Sis, who touched you?” Owen asked. “I’m not going to tolerate that. Being drunk and annoying is one thing, but the second you start ass grabbing... shit, it’s just you, Betty, and old man Steve in the back cooking food.”

  “That guy couldn't fight a well done burger,” Walker said.

  I had no idea if that was supposed to be funny or what.

  “On the end,” I said. “Facing us.”

  “Go in the back,” Walker said. “Come on.”

  He touched my waist and started to guide the way.

  I moved and saw Owen approach the table, hands balled into fists.

  I wasn't worried because Owen wouldn't do anything stupid while wearing his badge. He knew how easy it was to get himself into trouble and what could happen. Best case he’d kick the guys out. Worst case, he’d goad them into saying something and then take the guy in who slapped my ass. He’d toss him in the drunk tank until morning just to prove a point and mess up the guy’s night.

  In the back, Walker walked me to the sink and then stopped.

  “This is why I hate this fucking place,” Walker said.

  Old man Steve looked up from the grill, his brown eyes weary. His lips constantly puckered like he was trying to smoke a cigarette. Everyone joked and called him a fish.

  “Take a break,” Walker said and pointed to the door. “Okay?”

  “I need a smoke anyway,” Steve said. He hobbled away.

  Walker stepped back and crossed his arms. “Tell me again why you work here?”

  “I want my own money, Walker. You know that. I don’t want to rely on anyone. I hate that feeling.”

  “Christ, Olivia. You’re such a martyr. You don’t want to be your mother, right? You’re not. I’m not going to end up shot because of some deal gone bad.”

  My bottom lip quivered. I was tired, achy, and the last thing I needed was Walker to slice into my heart with his words. I knew crying in front of him would only make it worse. He would sink his teeth into any weakness he could find. That’s what made him so good at his job, but that also made him a terrible boyfriend.

  “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m tired. I flew in from Seattle and was getting settled. I had a call with one of the lawyers and then Owen buzzed me and said there was something going on down here.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I could take care of myself. Betty didn’t need to call you. I didn’t tell her to. She thought she was helping...”

  The door to the kitchen swung open.

  “Hey, okay!” a voice yelled.

  It was the guy who touched my ass.

  NO...

  He stumbled forward, Owen standing behind him, gun drawn.

  “Where do you want him?” Owen asked.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “What the fuck is this?” the guy asked.

  “Here’s what I’m going to do,” Owen said. “I’m going to run the licenses of all your buddies. You stay back here while I’m gone. Make one move and I’m taking you in.”

  Owen nodded to Walker and I saw the grin climb across Walker’s face.

  “Stop,” I said.

  “Hey, Betty,” Owen said as he opened the kitchen door. “Let me have that pot of coffee. I think it went bad. Let me pour it out.”

  Owen took the coffee and put it on the counter in the back. He then walked away.

  I started to move but Walker grabbed me. “Stay. I want you to see this.”

  “See what?” the drunk guy asked.

  Walker threw a punch with his left hand while his right hand still gripped my arm. He hit the guy in the mouth and sent him stumbling back. Walker let me go and he rushed to the guy. He grabbed him and walked him to the sink and bent him over it.

  “What the fuck?” the guy yelled.

  “You touch my girl’s ass?” Walker asked. “You think that’s okay to do? Just grab someone? Huh? You fucking piece of dirt.”

  “Whoa, man. I’m sorry, okay? I was just fucking around. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m drunk. We’re all drunk. We...”

  Walker reached for the coffee pot.

  My eyes went wide and I knew I couldn’t stop him. I tried to figure out if there was a chance that the coffee wouldn't be scalding hot since it had been taken off the burner.

  “Okay, then let’s fuck around,” Walker said.

  His hand gripped the back of the guy’s neck and held his head down. He stood behind the guy, pressing his body tight. The guy could have maybe fought but he didn’t know any better.

  Walker poured the coffee on the side of the guy’s face.

  The guy screamed as steam rose up.

  I covered my mouth as my stomach started to flip.

  The guy kicked and swung his hands.

  Walker put the coffee pot down and turned on the water. He sprayed the guy’s face off and then let him go. The guy collapsed to the floor, curled up tight, moaning and crying in pain.

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  Walker looked at me. He shook his right hand. “Nobody fucking touches you, Olivia. Ever. You’re my property. Forever.”

  Owen came into the kitchen again and froze. “Well, all the ID’s checked out. But since they’re all drunk, I don’t know who is going to drive. So I’ll just give them a police escort back to wherever they came from. What happened to this asshole?”

  Walker smiled. “He tried to drink some coffee to sober up. Thought you were going to arrest him for being drunk. He spilled the damn coffee all over his face.”

  Owen walked to the guy and crouched down. He put the guy’s ID into his hand. “Hey, Michael, hope your face feels better. You know, they make these things called coffee mugs. Try that next time.” Owen patted the guy’s shoulder. “Oh, which reminds me... if you try to tell any other kind of crazy story, I can promise you that you won’t be drinking, driving, or grabbing ass for a long time. Now pick yourself up like a man and walk out of here. I’ll follow you and your friends out of town.”

  The guy climbed to his feet, holding the right side of his face. He was shaking as he walked out of the kitchen.

  Betty then appeared, her face confused.

  Walker grabbed the coffee pot and dumped the rest of the coffee out. He rinsed it out and handed it to her.

  “Here you go, love. You can make a fresh pot. Those guys are leaving.”

  Betty left and I was alone again with Owen and Walker.

  “We have to go,” Owen said. “I’m running them out of town, like I said.”

  “Okay,” Walker said. “I’ll be right out.”

  The two shook hands and my brother left the kitchen.

  Walker then faced me. “I hate when it has to get bad like that.”

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “And maybe you should try wearing different pants. Stop showing your tits and ass off to everyone with a couple ones in their pocket looking to give an extra tip.” Walker leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Love you, Olivia.”

  “Yeah,” I whispered back.

  I thought about how many times I had said yeah to his Love you because I couldn’t remember the last time I said I loved him.

  My eyes filled with tears and I turned, faced with Steve.

  “Hey, girl, are you okay?”

  “No,” I said and pushed by him.

  I ran outside and stood there, in the middle of the night.

  Somewhere in the deepest part of my memories I heard the growl of a motorcycle engine.

  He was the bad guy... but to me, he was the only good g
uy I’d ever known.

  (SLADE)

  I ended up sleeping on my motorcycle an hour west of the shit storm that happened with Rocky. I had perfected a system of crashing right on my ride and watching the stars. I’d fade off into sleep and wake to the darkness peeling away for another day to live.

  I sat up and stretched my neck.

  I took a piss and got back to riding.

  The first town I saw was where I stopped. A quick bite at a local diner and I was back on the road. I filled up my tank with some gas at the next town and then took a little break. I ended up in an empty lot and just stood there, arms crossed, thinking.

  I really had no plan going forward. Working at Rocky’s garage was easy, paid great, and I liked the work. It was a constant stream and when I felt the devil’s urge playing inside me, there was always some OT to pick and keep my hands busy. Then again, my hands had gotten real busy with Rocky’s daughter. Fucking assholes. Trying to set me up.

  I lived a life different than my two brothers. Roman was the star QB for the Dragons, getting paid millions per game, always in the headlines for his bad boy antics. Shit had calmed down for him lately since he met a woman, Willow. How the hell she tamed his wild heart was beyond me, but then again, I knew what that felt like. To me, there was only one woman that had ever came close to taming me. That was a long time ago though. And that set me up for the life I lived now.

  Caine was somewhere in Canada playing hockey. Getting on the ice, lumbering around like a beast, knocking out teeth, scoring goals, drinking beer, and fucking anything with a slit. Typical Knight brother fashion.

  For me, it was always about freedom. I never remembered a time or a world where my old man wasn’t beating the shit out of Roman, Caine, or myself. And while Roman tried to stand tall and tough as the oldest, he wasn’t much of a match against our father. Even when Roman tried to protect us, he could only grab one at a time. So while Caine and myself didn’t take the same amount of beatings as Roman, we still got plenty.

  The first memory I could conjure up was me sitting in the highchair, playing with some cereal. The old man came into the kitchen and yelled at me that I wasn’t eating. How the hell I remembered it was beyond me. I couldn’t even fucking talk but it was lodged in my mind, like perfect pictures.

  Ma came through the backdoor, holding a basket of laundry.

  The old man pointed to the floor and asked her why she liked to live like a dirty cunt. My little brain didn't know what a dirty cunt meant. But it seemed serious. Ma dropped the basket and quickly started to collect the cereal off the floor. When she made a move toward the trash, the old man grabbed her arm and spun her around.

  “We don’t fucking waste food.”

  “What?” Ma asked.

  He then smacked her. Really fucking hard across the face.

  Ma stumbled but didn’t fall. The old man grabbed her again. “Make the little prick eat it. He doesn’t know any better.”

  I didn’t know what a little prick was, but I assumed that was me. Like I had been asked to be conceived, right?

  “He’s not eating food from the floor,” Ma said. “He’s not a dog. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not fucking okay,” the old man said. “Someone is eating this food. If you don’t want your precious baby boy to eat it, then you do it. You be the fucking dog.”

  That was my first memory of my family.

  My Ma standing there, shoving half eaten, soggy, dirty cereal into her mouth so I didn’t have to eat it. Because the old man would not have let it go. I remembered him laughing about it too. Almost cackling, knowing he had us in the palm of his hand.

  Coming back to reality, I shook my head.

  The old bastard had battled a bout with cancer but was still far from being in the clear. The only good thing he ever did was somehow end up with a dirt bike in the shed. That was my first project in life. Two wheels and a motor meant freedom. I had a bicycle but I spoke up to the old man once and he chased me down in his truck, running me over while I rode my bike away. That was the moment in my young life I realized I would need a motor to take me away from all the hell around me.

  My cell phone rang, snapping me out of memory lane for good.

  It was my buddy, Ace, who ran with the Savage Viper’s MC.

  They were a wild group of guys to know but if you had their love and respect you were protected for life, no matter what. They offered me a leather cut a few times but I had to pass it up. The outlaw life was in my blood but I couldn’t be patched in to a charter and stay put. I need to move to live.

  “Ace,” I said.

  “Where the fuck are you?” he asked, his voice growling.

  “Somewhere on a road, bro. You know me.”

  “We were looking for you. Had a little trouble and needed an outlaw’s hand.”

  “Bad?”

  “Some past due balances on a few accounts,” Ace said. “Figured you could bust up some heads.”

  “Ah, man, I’m two hours out.”

  “What happened with your gig?”

  “The shop thing fell apart last night. I fucked the boss’s daughter.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Ace said. “Praise the Lord that cock of yours knows no boundaries.”

  “Don’t get all holy on me now,” I said. “They fucking set me up. They tied me up and tried to rob me. They thought I was banking some serious cash or had ties to my brother’s money. I don’t know what they do there. Maybe it’s their little scam. I never thought twice as to why they had no other employees but now I get it.”

  “You give me an address,” Ace said. “I’ll send some guys down there.”

  “No, I’m good. They’re assholes, that’s all. At least I got pussy out of it.”

  “Good pussy?”

  “Is there such thing as bad pussy?”

  “Ah, man, you hang around the Viper’s long enough and you could see some crazy ass pussy.”

  “I don’t need a visual,” I said.

  “Hey, brother, you know the offers always stands for a cut. A piece of the action. A vote at the table. Shit, we owe you for everything you’ve done.”

  “I appreciate that, Ace. Are you in a big pinch with this debt collection? I could take a ride west.”

  “It’s all good. I just thought you might be looking for some action.”

  I looked out the quiet horizon. “I’m always down for action. Nothing is on the horizon for me.”

  Shit was I wrong with that statement...

  “Well, if you happen to ride west, you call me. I’ll keep the seat warm at the table.”

  “Thanks, Ace. I’ll catch up later.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want us to burn that fucking garage down? We will.”

  “It’s all good with me.”

  I ended the call.

  I had friends scattered across the country. But I had the same amount in enemies. That was just how the outlaw life went. For every moment that was peaceful and perfect, there were ten waiting to be laced with fire, violence, and death trying to race alongside.

  My eyes scanned the horizon one last time, maybe something inside me knowing this was going to be the last few calm seconds.

  My phone buzzed again.

  It wasn’t the Savage Viper’s calling.

  It was my brother.

  “Caine,” I said as I took the call. “How’s Canada?”

  “I’m at the house,” he said. “It’s time.”

  “What?”

  Then Caine said two words that shaped the rest of my goddamn life.

  “He’s dead.”

  (OLIVIA)

  *1 WEEK AGO*

  I heard that Mr. Knight had passed away from cancer from Owen. He called and said he had gone out to the old house and helped. Apparently one of his nurses had showed up to check on him and he was gone. I knew he had cancer but I also knew he had surgery and was doing better.

  The news left me numb. I knew what kind of man Mr. Knight was. I had heard stories and I
had seen a few things that were nothing short of terrifying. He was a bad man and not many people knew just how bad. I remembered what happened to his wife and the train track accident. That word - accident. So many people around town used that word because it gave a sense of tragedy and sadness rather than saying suicide which just felt so sickening.

  I knew why Owen called. He didn’t want me to go anywhere near the old house, just in case I saw someone.

  “That was a long time ago,” he said to me. “I want to keep it that way. I’ll let you know more about the arrangements and what the plan should be.”

  “The plan?” I asked but Owen hung up.

  All I could do was think about the past. That’s all I ever really had. The past. It was the only time I felt alive, I felt okay, and I felt protected. Owen meant well with his actions and words but he was too fierce for his own good.

  I grabbed my apron from the night before and took out the money. The ones and fives always had the smell of dirt and grease. The joys of working in a diner. My hamper forever stunk of coffee and bacon. I could shower for an hour and I swore my skin still crawled with the odor of the place.

  I put my hand on the money and looked at myself in the mirror.

  My first shift at the diner, he threw a rock through a window. The glass flew at me and I had to duck out of the way. I was so pissed about it I confronted him. Some tough guy, sitting on his motorcycle, shirtless, smoking a cigarette. I walked right up to him and tore the cigarette out of his mouth and then stepped on it. I then slapped his the face and told him he almost hurt me with that rock. When I asked why he did it, he said because they ran out of apple pie.

  I tried to slap him again and he caught my wrist. He grinned - he was so beautiful, even then - and he told me the guy at the table who got hit with the rock had gotten drunk and hit a little girl on her bike and took off. He saw it happen and nobody believed him. I remembered it because the little girl - Suzanne - ended up flown to a hospital and wasn’t released for a month. Hell, we had a jar to collect change to help with medical expenses.