Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Kelley Rade was trying to escape. Her mother had sold her to some traffickers who were intent to sell her because she had her virginity intact. They were hot on her tail. Until, she bumped into a very angry looking biker.
He didn’t like bullies, and killing the men was easy. Now, he had to take responsibility for her. Seeing as the club he was with had decided to settle down, he put Kelley in her own home, and made sure the guys looked out for her.
For the last five years, he’d been checking in on her. Kelley was no longer a little kid. She was all woman.
She had fallen in love with Crow five years ago, and she didn’t know what she could do to get him to notice her.
Until one night, he finally did.
He was drawn to the open road, but it had started to lose its appeal. He no longer wanted the cold hard loneliness of freedom. He wanted his woman. He wanted somewhere warm and a place to finally call his own.
Would he take the chance this Christmas with a woman that had worked her way into his heart?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Crow took a long inhale on his cigarette, staring up at the night sky. It was a cold one, that was for sure. It was fucking freezing, but he’d rather be outside than in the bar. There was only so much love he could see before it made him sick.
This is why he wanted to stay on the road. He was not packing in his nomad tag, nor was he looking for a piece of pussy to settle down with. Rebel and Brick had the settling-down gene, not him. Admittedly, they had two amazing women worth settling down for. Crow would be a patch for life and part of The Rebels MC until the day he died. He would die serving his club. There was nothing else he wanted to do. Just ride the open road and never stop.
Blowing out a long line of smoke, he stared straight ahead and just enjoyed the freedom and peace of being outside. This is what he loved.
He didn’t give a fuck that Christmas music was playing in the distance, or that some of the guys were seriously considering finding a place to call home, and to pack up life on the road. For him, that was never going to happen. Riding was in his blood. It was what he lived for. There was no way in hell he was going to get a nine-to-five job, settle down, have a couple of kids. He had yet to meet a woman who was even worth considering that shit.
In his experience, the settling-down kind of women were rare. He knew the women that jumped from bed to bed, looking for a good time and a little adventure. He liked to fuck that kind of pussy, but committing to it was a fool’s joke.
Taking another long draw of his cigarette, to which he was nearing the butt, he threw it on the ground and stomped it into the snow. Just as he turned his back, he heard the little feminine scream. It was faint, but he heard it. He also heard heavy footfalls and a masculine scream.
Crow didn’t have to wait too long, as something small crashed into him. He was able to stop them both from falling to the ground, but he didn’t have a lot of time to prepare, as their company suddenly showed up—two guys, covered in ink, but not wearing a single patch. He knew the kind, though. Traffickers. He’d met a few of them on his travels. Pieces of shit that stole men, women, and children from the street, hoping to sell them to the highest bidder. He had a heavy suspicion the young girl that had literally run into him was one of their targets.
“We don’t want no trouble,” one guy said.
Crow looked between them.
“We just want the girl,” the other guy said.
Crow knew he made them uneasy. He made a lot of people uneasy. For as long as he could remember, he had been scaring people. He was a large baby, grew into a big toddler, an even bigger kid, and by the time he was eighteen, he already looked like a full-grown man.
Now, with years of training, he’d become an all-around badass who rarely got his ass whooped. He loved scaring people. Fucking lived for it.
“That her name? Girl?” he asked.
They were not going to come any closer, and Crow looked down at the girl. She had a black eye, split lip, and she was young. He would put money on her being younger than eighteen.
“You know these men?” he asked.
“Please,” she said. “Help me. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Crow was used to staring women in the eyes and seeing nothing but lies. This girl wasn’t lying. She was terrified. This was no act. Her whole body shook from fear. She didn’t want to go with those men. This was not good.
Crow knew he had a decision to make, and it had to be soon. He could throw her to the men, and job done. Finished. He didn’t need to think about it. This was not his problem. But he looked into those brown eyes, and it was like she knew he was considering not helping her. This girl, whoever she was, had been let down in her short life. She was giving up, right before his eyes. The fear and panic were fading into acceptance.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Kelley Rade,” she said.
Her voice held a quiver to it.
“Tell me the girl’s name,” he said, calling out to the two men.
The two men looked at one another.
He tutted. “You mean to tell me you expect me to hand the girl over and you don’t even know her fucking name?”
He let her go and advanced toward the men. Crow didn’t know what came over him, just that an undeniable rage consumed him, and he wanted to spend that anger on these two men.