Loathed: Lagan (The Foster Brothers Book 3), page 1
LOATHED
THE FOSTER BROTHERS 3
NORA PHOENIX
Loathed: Lagan (The Foster Brothers Book Three) by Nora Phoenix
Copyright ©2022 Nora Phoenix
Cover design: Angsty G
Editing and proofreading: Tanja Ongkiehong
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without the written permission of the copyright holder, except in case of brief quotations and embodied within critical reviews and articles.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The use of any real company and/or product names is for literary effect only. All other trademarks and copyrights are the property of their respective owners.
This book contains sexually explicit material which is suitable only for mature readers.
www.noraphoenix.com
CONTENTS
Connect with Nora
Loathed - Lagan
The Foster Brothers
Trigger warning
Prologue
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Signed Paperbacks and Swag
Freebies
Books by Nora Phoenix
Audio Books by Nora Phoenix
More About Nora Phoenix
CONNECT WITH NORA
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Check out more of Nora’s books:
The Foster Brothers
The Forty-Seven Duology
No Shame series
Perfect Hands series
Irresistible Omegas series
White House Men series
Ignite series
Ballsy Boys series
Kinky Boys series
And for an overview of all my books and audio books, head over to my website!
LOATHED - LAGAN
When mutual hate turns into something else entirely...
Lagan absolutely despises his law professor, Killian Evans. He’s an arrogant, snobby know-it-all who looks down on anyone who’s not up to his standards.
If only he wasn’t so damn hot.
If only he didn’t make Lagan want an entirely different lesson from him…
Killian absolutely despises his student, Lagan Foster. He’s a lazy, flying-by-the seat-of-his-pants C+ student who barely can be bothered to pay attention in class.
If only he wasn’t so damn hot.
If only Killian didn’t want to teach him an entirely different lesson…
Loathed: Lagan is a steamy enemies to lovers MM romance that has insta hate mixed with a solid dose of insta lust, an age gap, found family, and two men who discover they’re much more alike than they thought. It is the third book in The Foster Brothers series, a contemporary MM romance series about four men who chose to be brothers that can be read as stand alones.
THE FOSTER BROTHERS
Loathed - Lagan is the third book in new contemporary MM romance series called The Foster Brothers.
Don’t miss the FREE prequel, Marked: Myron, available through Prolific Works in a massive giveaway that will be available for all of 2022. Check out all the amazing books and authors in the Your Book Boyfriend’s Boyfriend giveaway on Prolific Works.
The Foster Brothers
Jaren, Hadley, Lagan, and Nordin chose to be brothers after growing up in foster care together, and now nothing can come between them…not even when they find love.
Preorder Nicked - Nordin now!
The stupidest thing a con artist can ever do is fall for the man who’s trying to catch him…
Nordin likes to think of himself as a modern-day Robin Hood, redistributing the wealth from those who don’t deserve it to those who do. It’s fun, it’s exciting, and it makes good use of his talents and gifts.
Unfortunately, not everyone sees it like that, including FBI agent Tavin Donley. He calls Nordin a con artist, which is, like, such a rude term. Worse, he’s determined to catch Nordin.
That in itself is already a problem, but much worse is the fact that the chemistry between them is explosive. It always has been. And even though they’re adversaries, they can’t keep their hands off each other.
But when fire burns that hot, someone will get burned…
Nicked is the fourth book in The Foster Brothers series, a contemporary MM romance series about four men who chose to be brothers that can be read as stand alones. It has an epic game of cat and mouse, two men who can’t keep their hands off each other, a battle for the top, and the sweetest surrender.
TRIGGER WARNING
This book has a content warning for a one-time mention of suicidal thoughts, bullying (prologue only), loss and burial of a parent (they weren’t close), a character who gets very drunk (no alcoholism), and brief mentions of mistreatment and abuse (not sexual abuse).
PROLOGUE
CHICAGO, FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
Lagan popped his head around the door and peeked into the hallway. Nope, no sign of Ricki and his friends. Phew. He had to be careful today. Hadley was sick, and Nordin and Jaren were already in high school. Lagan was still stuck in seventh grade, much to his chagrin. One misstep was all it took for him to run into the wrong people, especially after what his father had done.
And Ricki Carvecchio was definitely not someone he wanted to encounter. The kid had a massive grudge against Lagan ever since he’d been forced to leave his fancy private school and attend this lowly public middle school and had discovered who Lagan was. Just his luck that the son of one of the men his father’s blabbing had destroyed now attended Lagan’s school.
He shuffled into the hallway, keeping his head down as always while still being vigilant. In this school, you could never let your guard down. South Side, baby. No margin for error here. One wrong word and your life could be over. Ask his dad. Though he’d definitely spoken more than one word. The man had sung like a canary, and they’d all paid the price for it.
Ever since his father had gotten arrested for boosting some fancy car, it had been two years of increasing hell, and Lagan didn’t see his misery end anytime soon. His mom was gone, his father had been sentenced to life in prison, his grandparents were dead, and his two uncles wanted nothing to do with him. A kid would only cramp their styles, they’d told him. Maybe he was better off without them, since they were involved in all kinds of illegal shit as well.
The only positives were Nordin, Hadley, and Jaren. They had met in the group home they’d all ended up in, and they’d become instant friends. They’d promised each other they’d stick together, have each other’s backs. Their families had all deserted them, so now they were each other’s family. Brothers.
Without them, Lagan wouldn’t have survived. Literally. Fuck, those dark days after his mom had died were still fresh in his memory. He’d seriously debated taking his dad’s gun, the one he’d hidden in the basement and the cops had somehow never found when they’d raided the house, and just end it all. But he hadn’t. Had to be his mom’s stubbornness he’d inherited. Now, he had a reason to live. All he had to do was keep his head down and get through school. Five more years.
He sneaked past the wall that was supposed to contain positive messages. Hey, they’d hung a new poster, a massive white-and-black thing with a big red stop sign. He glanced at the text from between his eyelashes, then snorted. This is a no-bullying zone. Well, someone shoulda told Ricki ’cause he sure as fuck hadn’t gotten that memo. Seriously, did the school administrators really think that shit worked? Like, they’d hang a poster, and suddenly, everyone would realize bullying was wrong? God, to be that naïve.
A hand appeared out of nowhere and wrapped around his throat, and he was slammed against a locker. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
Fuckity fuck. Ricki. Somehow, Lagan had missed the bastard sneaking up on him. He made an attempt to wrestle himself free, but with Ricki having four inches and a good fifty pounds on him, it was futile. At least they were in the hallway, so Ricky couldn’t do too much damage to him. Right? Please let it be so.
“The fuck you want?” Lagan snapped with more bravura than he felt. He couldn’t show fear, or he’d be dead.
“The fuck I want? How about my dad out of prison, jackass?” Ricki shook him until Lagan’s teeth rattled.
“Sure, I’ll get right on it.”
Another shake, even more violent this time. “Don’t you fucking dare mock me.”
“Then stop asking me for stuff I got nothing to do with.”
“Your father did this.”
Lagan rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself. “Yeah, exactly. My father. Not me. Not sure what you think I can do about this.”
Ricki seemed confused for a moment, but then he regrouped, tightening his hold on Lagan’s throat. “I don’t care if you can do something about it or not. He’s your old man, so I can take it out on you.”
That argument made no sense at all, but Lagan doubted Ricki would be open to logic. Still, he had to try. “You don’t reckon I already paid a high enough price?”
Ricki frowned, relaxing his hand enough so Lagan could at least get some air into his lungs. “What do ya mean?”
“My mom?”
More frowning. Was he that good an actor, or did he really not know what Lagan was talking about? He didn’t seem that skilled or smart, so Lagan was tempted to believe the second. “My mom was killed because of what your father did.”
Ricki froze. “That’s bullshit. You’re lying.”
Holy shit, he didn’t know. Ricki had no idea what his father was capable of. “Your father works for Victor Duvall, one of the biggest crime bosses in the city.”
“Uncle Victor is in the import and export business.”
God, he sounded like he was repeating something his parents had told him. Was he really that much of an idiot? Lagan hadn’t pegged him as the brightest bulb, but this was next-level stupidity. “Yeah, import and export of narcotics, you dumb fuck. What, you thought your dad made all that money legally?”
Ricki’s knuckles connected with Lagan’s mouth, and pain exploded across his lips. Damn, Ricki had swung so hard and fast Lagan had never seen it coming. His mouth filled with wet copper, and he spit it out, barely missing Ricki, who seemed to be shocked at the effects of his vicious punch. Holy fuck, the motherfucking piece of shit had clocked him good.
“You’re lying. My father would never do that,” Ricki snarled, regaining his composure.
Lagan spit on the floor again, the pain still sharp enough to take his breath away. From the corners of his eyes, he caught some curious stares from other students moving in to see what was going on. At least they had an audience. If nothing else, that should temper Ricki’s urges somewhat.
“I’m not. Ask your dad. My dad testified against Victor and sent him and his top lieutenants to jail, your dad being one of them. And then Victor took his revenge by having my mom killed.”
“It was a random shooting by some meth head who was high as a kite.”
“Oh, puh-leeze. She was hit by one of Victor’s men. He went to jail for it, but his family is taken care of by Victor. And then Victor pinned a murder on my dad he didn’t commit, ensuring he’ll spend the rest of his life in prison.”
A flicker of doubt passed over Ricki’s face. “Your father deserved everything he got and more for being a fucking rat and a snitch.”
Lagan straightened his shoulders and met Ricki’s glare head on. “Yes, my father ratted Victor and his lieutenants out. And yes, he’s the reason your dad went to prison for a long, long time. But you do realize he was guilty, right? My dad didn’t accuse him of stuff he didn’t do. He merely told the cops what he knew Victor, your dad, and others had done over the years. It’s not like your old man was wrongly convicted. He’s guilty of every single thing they accused him of.”
Fuck, every word hurt, having to push it past his bleeding lips, which were already swelling up. His brothers would have a fit if they saw him, and he’d probably have to hold back Nordin from going after Ricki. Nordin had a protective streak a mile wide and a temper that was slow to rise but savage when it reared its head.
Ricki opened his mouth, then closed it again. “It don’t matter. If your father had kept his mouth shut like he should have, my father would still be a free man, and we’d still have money.”
With his father in prison, the constant stream of money had dried up for Ricky and his family. So he, his mom, and his two younger sisters had been forced to move into a rental. Ricki and his sisters had been pulled out of their expensive private school and had been sent to public school with the common folks—and Ricky resented the hell out of Lagan for just that, as he’d made abundantly clear.
“Sure,” Lagan agreed easily. Righteous fury the likes of which he’d never experienced before blazed through him. “And my mom would still be alive. But that’s on Victor and your dad, not on mine. And your father would still be a fucking criminal, free or not. Open your fucking eyes, Ricky. You can be pissed off at me all you want, but deep down, you’re not that dumb. You know damn well it’s not me you should be furious with ’cause I didn’t put your dad in prison. Now either finish what you started or let me go ’cause I’m not gonna spend the rest of my day trying to talk some sense into your goddamn stupid head.”
Whether Ricky was too stunned to react or was genuinely convinced Lagan had a point, Lagan wasn’t sure, but the guy let go of him. With his head held high, Lagan shot him a last fierce look and stalked off. Not until he’d turned the corner did he give in to his tears.
Goddamn, his face hurt.
PROLOGUE
SEATTLE, NINE YEARS AGO
Killian couldn’t take his eyes off him. Ever since the guy had come into the gay club, surrounded by three friends, Killian had been drawn to him. He had an energy about him, an effortless magnetic sexiness, that was irresistible. The way he moved on the dance floor was smooth and elegant, his slender body dipping and swaying to the music.
He was having fun, losing himself in the music, smiling and glowing. Every now and then, when one of his friends said something, he threw his head back, laughing with abandon without being overdramatic. The affection he had for his friends appeared genuine. They formed an interesting group. One was a total flirt, one a sweet one who was batting his eyes at a big guy he was interested in, and the last one seemed more of an amused observer. And then there was him, a little shy but flirting low-key. So far, no man had managed to break them up.
The clingy, black shirt highlighted his alluring shape, and the tight jeans he’d managed to wrestle himself in made it clear to every man in the room what his sexual preference was. No strict top would ever put his ass on display like that…and what a luscious ass it was. Fuck, Killian wanted to bury himself between those ass cheeks, first with his mouth, then with his cock.
But did he even stand a chance? A year ago, he wouldn’t have asked himself that question, but everything had changed. He’d always been so confident, cocky even, but after Armando, that daring attitude had evaporated. How had he been that gullible, that stupid? Two months later and he still couldn’t figure out how Armando had gotten to him. He’d broken every single one of his rules, and for what? For a man who had turned out to be nothing but a criminal, one who excelled in lying and deceit.
