Maverick: A Rough Romance (Missoula Bad Boys Book 3), page 1
MAVERICK
PIPER STONE
CONTENTS
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
Afterword
Books of the Missoula Bad Boys Series
Books of the Montana Bad Boys Series
Books of the Eagle Force Series
Books of the Dangerous Business Series
Books of the Kings of Corruption Series
Books of the Sinners and Saints Series
Books of the Benedetti Empire Series
Books of the Merciless Kings Series
Books of the Mafia Masters Series
Books of the Edge of Darkness Series
Books of the Dark Overture Series
Books of the Club Darkness Series
More Mafia and Billionaire Romances by Piper Stone
Books of the Alpha Dynasty Series
Books of the Alpha Beasts Series
More Stormy Night Books by Piper Stone
About Piper Stone
Copyright © 2023 by Stormy Night Publications and Piper Stone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Stone, Piper
Maverick
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
PROLOGUE
Brothers in arms.
Bad boys, cowboys, soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines.
We’d been labeled delinquents, incapable of redemption.
And we’d gone our separate ways.
Heroes. Monsters. Sinners and saints.
Above all we were men honoring our country even while a terrible secret loomed just below the surface.
There were those who would never forget, praying we’d never return.
Others would stop at nothing to prevent us from doing so.
We were intent on finding salvation by protecting those we loved.
But demons from a single act would never allow us to forget.
Six men determined to right the wrongs from our past.
Six men prepared to do what it took.
No matter the cost.
Together in life.
Together in death.
CHAPTER 1
Amelie
My bad day just turned into a nightmare.
I’d found my piece of shit ex in my bed with my now ex-best friend.
I’d had a flat tire.
I’d lost my waitressing job.
Now this.
Being summoned to my father’s house was never for a happy reason.
And it wasn’t about giving me a Christmas gift.
We didn’t live a Hallmark card kind of life complete with festive celebrations and heartfelt emotions. There was nothing but animosity between us, which had been the only thing I’d felt for as long as I could remember. He’d made it perfectly clear from an early age that I was nothing but a nuisance in his life and that he was doing me a favor in allowing me to grow up near him.
While most children would crumble from his harsh words and prison-like rules, I’d grown strong and wise, capable of ignoring his rants and demands. Once I’d turned eighteen, he’d ignored me altogether other than the required twice a year dinners where nothing but business was handled. Checks written for tuition. Doling out an allowance like I was a five-year-old asking for money for candy. And the same lecture on how I was wasting my life giving a shit about animals.
But today was entirely different.
I sensed it in my bones.
The meeting had to do with the release of my trust fund, money he hadn’t been able to get his grubby hands on. My mother had done her best to protect me, even while falling under his spell. The executor was an attorney, a friend of my mother’s family. I was certain the man who’d professed to love my mother had conned her into marrying him, funding his unprofitable company. I’d been too young to remember anything but arguments. How many times had I heard their harsh words, screaming battles that had lasted for hours? My mother had taken me on a special trip to get away.
I’d returned alone, my mother killed in a crash. But I’d never believed the reports. My gut told me he had something to do with her death. As hard as I’d tried, I hadn’t been able to pin her murder on him. But one day I would. So help me God. I was still alive for a reason, and I was determined to find out what that was.
He’d rarely talked about her, finally acting as if she’d never existed. One day I would learn the truth.
I doubted that would happen today. This was a turning point. I was certain of it.
Something was very wrong.
Carmine Rathbone didn’t have a decent bone in his body as far as I was concerned. He was a con man, someone not to be trusted. Today, he wore a smile as if he’d just won the Mega-millions lottery, only he’d consider that chump change given his worth was well over two hundred million dollars. But he’d been antsy, his stock dropping. I was no business major, but it was obvious he’d lost millions.
I’d continued to dig and would do so until I found justice for my mother.
He needed my cash. I was certain of it. Without interference, it would be in my hands in three months. By the look on his face alone, I could tell he was worried.
I was leery, on edge, which hopefully I’d find the opportunity to take out on my father.
Be smart about this.
“Come. Have a seat,” he told me the moment he ushered me into his office.
As I usually did when I arrived at the house I’d grown up in, I wrapped my fingers around my locket, sliding it back and forth on the gold chain. Almost instantly, my father noticed my actions, scowling as he did every time I toyed with my only piece of jewelry that had ever mattered.
He hissed in disgust, and I was surprised I didn’t get my usual sermon about my nervous tic. Little did he know I’d been doing it on purpose for years because it reminded him of what we’d lost. No, what he’d tossed aside like garbage.
Who he’d murdered.
That was something I could never forgive him for. After I’d gotten older, I’d searched for years for evidence, finding nothing useful. At least until recently. A trip to the mountains would be my present after graduation, to find the source of a gift I received a few years before. The postmark had been from Missoula, Montana with no return address. The answers were there.
Even if it meant derailing my career for a little while, I wouldn’t find peace until I knew exactly what happened and why I’d been sent her picture and a locket.
“Sit down, Amelie. I don’t want to tell you again.” My, how his slightly pleasant tone had crashed into darkness, and in record time.
I hadn’t changed before racing over. I was painfully aware he was annoyed with my attire, holey jeans and a worn tee shirt. If he had his way, I’d be living the glamorous life of the vice president of his company, a single suit costing more than what I’d paid for my economy car. That would allow him to have full control over me, which would never happen.
My friends asked why I continued to endure his stranglehold over me. The answer was as screwed up as my life had become. The money he handed over was barely enough to get by, the soaring costs of surviving in Chicago getting outrageous. He held the key to a fortune that he’d dangled over my head since I understood the meaning of the words ‘trust fund.’ Did that make me greedy? Maybe so, but in my mind, I was owed the millions of dollars for having to put up with his bullshit.
And because technically, it belonged to my mother.
“What is it, Daddy dearest?”
He gritted his teeth, another sign my ugliness was already wearing on him.
I eased into a seat opposite his Herman Miller desk, offering a sweet smile, but I had more butterflies than usual.
My father had something up his sleeve. I was certain of it.
It was barely two o’clock in the afternoon yet he took the time to pour a single finger of scotch, of course not bothering to ask me if I’d care to join him. Then again, this wasn’t a social call.
When he finally sat down, his actions were more formal than usual. He took a sip, swirling the liquor in his glass as he studied me, amusement replacing aggravation.
His stall tactic put me further on the edge. In response I crossed my legs, placing my ankle on my knee, a gesture that always got on his nerves. I was twenty-five, a semester shy of graduating with honors from the University of Illinois, becoming a doctor of veterinary medicine and I was acting like an impetuous ten-year-old.
However, it was the only way I could tolerate his holier than thou attitude.
“Amelie. I’ve tolerated your childish desires for as long as possible.”
“My childish desires?” Other than working my butt off between classes and waiting on drunks, the only hobby I had was my photography. I’d won a few awards, which had driven another wedge between us. He believed the hobby to be frivolous, a detriment to the Rathbone name.
He drummed his fingers on the wooden surface, never blinking as he stared at me. While he always made me uncomfortable, today my skin itched from head to toe. Why did I have a feeling two of his security guards were planning on carting me off to some unknown location, forcing me to disappear just like my mother had so long ago?
A lump formed in my throat when he leaned forward, a smirk crawling across his face. “I thought I should be the one to tell you that you won’t be returning to college this spring.”
I glared at him for a few seconds then started to laugh. “What the hell are you talking about?” In my mind, I started doing the calculations regarding the remaining fees. At minimum without money for my apartment and food, I’d need at least eighteen thousand dollars. He never paid more than a semester at a time, and it hadn’t dawned on me why until now.
He’d planned on using it as a bargaining chip.
The fucking son of a bitch.
I bit back a combination of anger and tears, hiding behind the same mask I’d learned to portray so well.
“What the hell am I talking about,” he repeated then rubbed his jaw. “I must admit, I lost track of how many years you’ve spent wasting your life. I’m grateful to my accountant for bringing it to my attention.” He continued to drum his fingers on the desk, every sound echoing in my ears. “Your particular skills are needed elsewhere.”
He glanced down at my attire for a second time and I was ready to jump out of my skin.
“What do you want, Carmine?” We’d never been close, which is why I’d chosen to call him by his first name after I’d turned eighteen. He wasn’t fond of me either. But since he’d been responsible for me after my mother had… disappeared, he hadn’t been able to toss me aside.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t use me for something else altogether. I was no fool. He was the kind of man who did nothing without getting something in return.
“Your cooperation, of course. In truth, you have no choice. Your apartment is being cleaned out as we speak.”
Shock tore through me, my throat immediately starting to close. Whoa. He must have found out I was investigating him. “What did you say?”
“Yes, I took the liberty of contacting the cheap college you’ve been going to, explaining that you won’t be returning.”
I jerked to a standing position, backing away as the horror of what he’d done began to settle. “I am returning to school. I’ll find a way even if you don’t pay for it.”
“I happen to know exactly how much money you have in your bank account, Amelie. Does eight hundred ten dollars sound about right?”
He’d gotten into my bank account. I was sick inside, my skin clammy.
My God. He couldn’t have picked a worse time to toss me out on the street. With asshole Tommy out of my life, my options were limited, but I knew I could stay with Monica until I figured this out. She’d been a good friend over the years. I hadn’t realized I was pressing my fingers across the bulge in my jeans pocket where I’d placed my keys until he laughed.
“If you’d like to take a look out that window, you’ll see your car is being impounded.”
I flew toward the window, smashing my hand on the glass as I peered outside. Oh, my God. A moment of fear swept through me, becoming crippling within seconds.
Get your shit together. He can’t steal from you.
Knowing the great Carmine Rathbone, he could do anything he wanted. With a multibillion-dollar corporation under his control, and his cunning and power in controlling his influential friends, I had no doubt he had certain members of Chicago’s finest under his thumb. He’d positioned himself extremely well over the years, gathering a circle of friends who would do his bidding without question.
I folded my arms and walked closer to his desk. If he thought he could intimidate me, he was wrong. “What do you want, Carmine? That is the truth, isn’t it? You need something from me so you’re going to punish me in the only way you know will matter.” I had to find out every detail about what he was trying to do in order to nail his ass to the wall. I’d stop at nothing to do so.
“I’m still your father, Amelie. I deserve your respect if nothing else.”
“You haven’t been my father. You couldn’t care less about me. What. Do. You. Want? Depending on what it is, I’ll see if it’s acceptable or not. One way or the other, I will have my life back.”
The smug look on his face remained. Seeing the twinkle in his eyes created a level of rage that I hadn’t known existed.
“That won’t be up to me, Amelie.” As he pushed a file across his desk, I did what I could to keep from shivering visibly.
I glanced at the plain manila folder and a wash of anxiety settled into my system.
“Open it. Time is running short.”
My glare remained as I pulled it into my fingers. The moment I flipped it open, I sensed he was ready to laugh.
Then I realized why.
Three months later
Maverick
“Yo. Wolfman. What’s shakin’?”
I bristled, hearing the moniker that I couldn’t shake. I’d been called that after preventing an ambush on a secure compound during my stint in the Marines. The asshole who’d coined the phrase hadn’t intended it as a compliment. I had a feeling it would be on my tombstone.
Sooner versus later.
Hissing, I didn’t bother turning my head toward Gage Beckham, a local sheriff in Missoula. We’d known each other for two decades, running with the same crowd of bad boys who’d once terrorized Missoula. When my buddy tracked me down, usually inside a bar, that meant he needed something. “Whatever you’re selling, I ain’t buyin’.”
“Who said I needed anything?”
“Cause I know you. Remember?”
He slid next to me, immediately reaching for the bowl of peanuts I had in front of me. I concentrated on my bottle of Bud, taking another swig. I’d had a rough few days, tracking down a family of tourists who had no business being on the mountain. The fuckers had almost gotten me killed.
Twice.
“Come on. Why can’t I say hello to a friend?”
Exhaling, I shifted toward him, lifting an eyebrow. “Because you’re coming to me on official duty, which means you need my expertise.”
“I just need your brawn.”
“Fine. Go ahead and tell me. You’re not going to leave me in peace until you do. And stop eating all my freaking nuts.” I yanked the bowl away, only to have him tug it again, grinning like he’d just won a victory.
“Okay. I received a rather frantic call from old man Washington over at the Yellowstone hotel.”
“You mean motel. That’s a rat trap.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he admitted, “but he still draws in the tourists since he can pontificate with the best of them.”
The aging former firefighter had somehow managed to get his crappy motel registered as a historical location, thereby making it virtually impossible for any developer to snag the property out from under him. And he had dozens breathing down his neck. “So what does he want?”
“He says a girl took off hours ago up the mountain and hasn’t returned.”
“That’s my issue why?”
“He thinks she’s lost. She took off using one of his maps.”
