Enforcer’s Price
By Sarah Hawthorne
A man looking for redemption
Colt spent eight months in prison for trusting the wrong woman, nearly bringing down his entire motorcycle club in the process. Now he needs to fix the MC’s cash flow problems or watch the only family he’s ever known fall apart.
Meeting Krista wasn’t part of his mission.
Falling for her could mean his destruction.
A single mom trying to get by
Krista was ready to leave hooking behind when her ex cleaned out her bank account. Stuck working to provide for her daughter, she protects herself with one rule: never get involved with someone at the club.
Not that she wants to. Sex has become a job, a means to an end.
One night together as an escape
Krista’s body wakes at Colt’s touch, allowing her to imagine a life after the MC. A future. A happily-ever-after, if only briefly. Krista brings out feelings in Colt he forgot could exist. But just as he begins to trust again, Krista’s truth is revealed—testing the very boundaries of Colt’s jealousy and faith.
This book is approximately 70,000 words
Carina Press acknowledges the editorial services of Mackenzie Walton
One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise! Find out more at CarinaPress.com/RomancePromise
Dear Reader,
I’m practically cackling and rubbing my hands with glee at the amazing books we have in store for you this month. You’re going to fall in love with the newest additions to the Carina Press author lineup while enjoying the very best of our returning authors. Forgive me for saying it but...whee! Read on for the goodness...
This month Lucy Parker brings us her much anticipated sequel to contemporary romance Act Like It. Pretty Face returns readers to the highly acclaimed world of the London stage with laugh-out-loud wit and plenty of drama. Iconic director Luc Savage is in for a surprise with his new show—not to mention a May-December romance with its feisty star!
New-to-Carina-Press author Rhenna Morgan kicks off her new super-sexy contemporary romance series with Rough & Tumble. With his badass don’t-take-no-for-an-answer approach to life, Jace Kennedy is everything Vivienne Moore swore she never wanted in a man—especially after the rough lifestyle she grew up in. But Jace sees the hidden wild side in Vivienne, and he won’t give up until he shows her the safest place is in the arms of a dangerous man. By the way, Jace might be a badass, but he’s no alphahole. This is a guy every inch in love with his lady and willing to treat her like gold.
We return to Lauren Dane’s Cascadia Wolves series with Wolf Unbound. We meet Tegan—a Pack Enforcer who, after the death of her mate, thought she’d be alone forever. Until she meets Ben, handsome, dominant...and human.
Amber Bardan returns with a stunning new stand-alone sultry contemporary romance in King’s Captive. In Julius’s world, on his island, he is King. Money and power mean he rules all around him—including her.
In fan-favorite A.M. Arthur’s newest male/male romance, As I Am, scarred shut-in Taz finally braves the outside world for intensely shy Will, but secrets from both of their pasts could destroy their fragile new love.
Fans of Scott Hildreth’s The Gun Runner be prepared! Michael Tripp is back and as bad as ever in The Game Changer. Tripp and Terra are moving toward their happily-ever-after, but first they have to overcome the secrets they’re still keeping from each other—and her mafia family’s inexorable determination to pull Tripp into la famiglia.
We’re introducing three debut authors this month. First, join Agents Irish & Whiskey in Single Malt, Layla Reyne’s debut male/male romantic suspense. Widowed FBI agent and Irish ex-pat Aidan Talley falls hard for his handsome younger partner, Jameson “Whiskey” Walker, as they investigate cybercrimes and the murder of Aidan’s late husband.
In Mark of the Moon, a hookup with a vampire goes wrong when Dana Markovitz is scratched by a jealous were-cat. You won’t want to miss this sexy new urban fantasy series from debut author Beth Dranoff.
From debut author Sarah Hawthorne comes Enforcer’s Price, book one in the Demon Horde series. In this romantic motorcycle club romance, Colt is just starting to trust again, but Krista is hiding something big. Can he still love her when she reveals sex and money go hand in hand for her?
Don’t miss this amazing lineup of new and returning authors, and look for their next books in the upcoming months!
Next month: Don’t miss Shannon Stacey’s return to the world of everyone’s favorite blue-collar family, the Kowalskis, with a heart-warming and funny all-new romance that also reunites you with all your favorite Kowalskis.
As always, until next month, my fellow book lovers, here’s wishing you a wonderful month of books you love, remember and recommend.
Happy reading!
Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
Dedication
For my husband—thank you for all of your love and support.
Contents
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
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Epilogue
Coming Soon from Sarah Hawthorne
About the Author
Chapter One
Krista
I pulled my daughter closer and rocked her. It was dark in the bedroom and I couldn’t see her face, but her breath was erratic and her voice shaky. Her little chin, normally adorable, was quivering against my arm. I groped around for the blanket on the bed and pulled it around us. Of course, a blanket wasn’t going to save us, but at least it might give Becky a feeling of security.
“Mommy, is that the Big Bad Wolf? Is he going to blow our house down?”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
“Krista, goddamn it, open up this fucking door before I break it down!” The pounding continued. He’d been at it for at least fifteen minutes, long enough for one of the neighbors to call the cops.
Not that I especially cared for cops, but at that moment, I would have welcomed anyone who could make Robb
y stop pounding.
Becky was starting to whimper.
“Shhhh, baby.” Maybe if we stayed quiet long enough, he would think we weren’t home.
That was a pipe dream. He knew we were home. Robby always knew where I was, what I was doing and how to exploit me. I had kicked him out three years ago, but he still kept tabs on me. He used that information to shake me down for money whenever he ran out. Which was often.
Robby had never paid a dime in child support or spent any time with Becky. I realized long ago that he wasn’t going to help me raise our child. He just looked at us as an occasional source of income.
The other moms at Becky’s preschool drove shiny new Subarus and worked part-time because they wanted to. They even took vacations. Why? They married rich men or got an education for themselves. But not me. When I was in high school, I was pregnant with Robby’s kid; now I was paying for it. I drove a duct-taped Corolla and worked full-time slinging drinks and turning tricks at a motorcycle club. I’d never been on vacation in my entire life.
Becky shivered in my arms. “Is the wolf huffing and puffing, Mommy?”
What the hell should I say to a six-year-old? Yes. No. It’s just your father. How should I explain to her that her daddy was the Big Bad Wolf because he was out of meth? Or, worse, that her mommy turned tricks for the money that kept the wolf at bay?
The banging stopped and voices began to yell at each other outside. I couldn’t really make out the words, but it didn’t matter. The cops had finally showed. Robby would go to jail and we could go to sleep tonight.
The yelling stopped and thumping began. I knew a fight when I heard one. Robby and the cops must be getting into it. I hoped the cops had brought backup; Robby was a real asshole and hard to stop when he was itching for another score. I’d been the one trying to stop him a few times—I knew exactly how hard he punched.
After what seemed like an eternity, the thumping and the voices stopped. It was over. I wasn’t at all interested in opening the door and talking to the cops. If Robby saw that I was actually there and just not answering the door, my life was gonna get a thousand times worse once he left jail.
“Krista, open up! It’s Tate.”
“Fuck.” It was my boss. The neighbors didn’t call the cops, they called my boss, the president of the Storm Kings motorcycle club. The only neighbor who could contact Tate was Janice. She got me the job.
The guys at the club were good to me. They didn’t just treat me right because I was a good whore. They treated me right because I was part of the family. As soon as they learned they could trust me, I started tending bar at the clubhouse and keeping the invoices in order; Tate paid a little more and I learned a lot about accounting. The Storm Kings were the best thing to happen in my life since I’d had Becky. I had more money now, had a regular schedule. I’d even had time to finish my associate degree. Not many girls could say that being a whore was the best job they’d ever had.
I wished Janice had called the cops. I could hide in my bedroom until everybody just went away. But now I had to air my dirty laundry to Tate and the whole club. I’d made a rule for myself not to involve the guys from the club in my personal life. I had to break my rules and open the damn door.
“We don’t say bad words, Mommy.” Becky’s eyes were big and staring at me. I had been trying to be better about the swearing in front of her. “Can we go say hi to Mr. Tate? Did he scare away the wolf?”
I nodded. We didn’t have a choice. He probably knew I was in here anyway. I stood up, taking Becky with me, and headed for the front room. At least she knew Tate. I’d taken her to work a few times when all the guys were gone. He’d bring her butterscotch candies while I cleaned the clubhouse.
“Krista?” Tate called through the door. “It’s safe, open up.”
I stood in front of the door. I knew I had to open it, but god, I didn’t want to see Robby. I just couldn’t. It would just make things worse.
“Is he gone?” I asked through the closed door.
“He’s unconscious.” The voice that answered back was rough, unfamiliar. It wasn’t Skeeter or Rip. It wasn’t any of the guys who crashed at the clubhouse—I would have known their voices.
I unlocked the door and opened it, still carrying Becky. She twisted in my arms, trying to see what was going on.
My front porch was in utter chaos. The two plastic chairs, the flowerpots with my marigolds and the birdfeeder had all gone through a blender. There was a new crack in the stucco near the window. But the windowpane wasn’t broken and the railing was still intact. At least the landlord couldn’t kick me out. After a second of searching, I saw Robby slumped in the far corner with a big, scary-looking biker standing guard over him.
After two years of working at the clubhouse, I’d seen more than my share of big, scary guys in leather. But this guy was different. He didn’t have that frenzied look like most guys who just finished a fight. Usually you can see the adrenaline and testosterone reflected in their eyes. But not this guy. He was cold as he stared down at my ex.
The scariest part about this guy was his vest. It was the standard-issue black leather biker vest, but the patches were all different. The patch that indicated where he was from only said “Berdoo.” The Storm Kings were only a single-chapter club. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t part of the family.
“Is the Big Bad Wolf gone?” Becky’s voice quivered and her eyes darted around the porch, stopping on Robby’s unconscious body. “Daddy?”
“Your daddy is asleep,” Berdoo said kindly, and instantly. “He worked real hard to protect you from the wolf.”
I gave him a small nod of thanks. I wasn’t ready to explain to Becky that her daddy was an asshole.
“Look, we’ll deal with him.” Tate stepped up next to my side. “But you can’t stay here tonight. The cops will be here real soon. Pack your things. You’ll be at the clubhouse tonight.”
I nodded again. I didn’t want to stay there anyway. At least, with Tate’s permission, I could bring Becky to the clubhouse instead of a motel and save some cash.
Becky and I went back into the apartment. I threw clothes into a backpack while she put a few toys into her lunchbox.
“Go put on your sneakers, baby,” I instructed her. “There are broken things outside and I don’t want you to cut your feet.”
She went to go put on her shoes and I threw toothbrushes and deodorant into the backpack. We were done packing in about three minutes.
Grabbing Becky’s hand, we joined Tate and Berdoo out in the apartment parking lot. I stood in silence for a moment, surveying what was left of my car. Every single window was gone. I had no car.
My car was just a hunk of machinery that took me places, but it was also freedom. It helped me escape Robby when things just got too bad. It took me to the courthouse for the restraining order. It allowed me to take Becky to school and dance lessons. It took me to school so I could get a real job. Tonight I had planned that it would take us to the clubhouse where we would be safe.
But it was shattered. Windows gone, glass everywhere, my stuff inside had been thrown around. There was no way I could drive. I couldn’t get to safety.
“My car...” I reached out to open the door, but a hand grabbed my wrist. Berdoo.
The slumlords who owned my apartment complex never bothered to replace the bulbs in the floodlights, so the lot was dark. I tried to peer into the stranger’s face. He was a big shadow looming next to me. I should have been scared of him. But Tate was there and I was mostly just numb.
“He just smashed the glass. Should be safe to drive once we clean it up.”
I nodded.
“Sorry to do this, Krista, but we didn’t stop to grab a truck. You’ll need to ride bitch on our bikes to get back to the clubhouse.” Tate squeezed my shoulder and gave Becky a smile. “Wanna ride on my bike?”
Full mama bear activated. He wanted to put my six-year-old on the back of a motorcycle? I pulled Becky behind me.
“Mommy, Mr. Tate said a bad word.”
“Becky, stop tattling,” I said without even looking at her. I glared at Tate. “You want my kid on the back of a motorcycle? Are you crazy? She can’t hold on. We’ll walk. It’s only four miles. I’ve done it before.”
Police sirens screamed out in the distance. This evening was pretty horrible, but the cops would make it so much worse. Not just for me, but for Tate and Berdoo. Even though they were just protecting me, the cops might see it as assault. Besides, there was no telling what story Robby would spin when he woke up.
“We gotta go. You can stay and wait for the cops, or you can ride on the bike back to the clubhouse,” Berdoo said. “You can put her between us so she doesn’t fall off. Hold on to her. I’ll be gentle.”
Who the hell was this guy? “We’re riding with Tate.”
My boss cleared his throat. “Actually, you’re riding with him. I took off my passenger seat the other day so I could swap out a new gas tank.”
I looked at the two bikes. Damn. I was not riding on the back of this guy’s bike. “We’ll walk. I’ll meet you at the clubhouse in about an hour and a half.”
In the biker world, having a woman on the back meant one thing: Old Lady. Permanence. Responsibility. If I sat on the back of Berdoo’s bike and the whole club saw it, there would be assumptions. Ownership would be implied. My job as everyone’s girlfriend for money would be down the drain in an instant.
The sirens were getting louder as Tate grabbed my arm. “You gotta do it, and I sent the rest of the guys on a run to Portland. No one will know but us.”
I looked at Berdoo. I could jump on the back of his bike or explain to the cops how Robby beat himself to a bloody pulp while I was cowering in the back room with my kid. That was a sure ticket to an investigation by Child Protective Services.
“Whatever. I don’t care who we ride with, let’s just get out of here.”
Berdoo handed me his helmet and Becky and I walked over to the bikes. I knew which one was Tate’s, so I climbed on the other. I settled Becky in front of me. This was so unsafe, but waiting around for the cops or for Robby to regain consciousness would result in multiple arrests. Berdoo sat in front of Becky and started the engine. The club logo on the back of his cut was a stylized devil, with horns and a long tongue. The Storm Kings logo was a crown with a lightning bolt. This guy wasn’t a King, but Tate treated him like it. Interesting.
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