King's Trophy, page 10
Mason kept his eye on the door, waiting for the moment she would enter. This had been Holly’s idea.
His men were watching the kids. He felt sorry for them because little Leo was a menace. His firstborn had been a son. He also had two daughters, who were not terrors, but Bethany, their second child, could be a little difficult when she wanted to be. He loved all his children. There was a short time when he didn’t, especially when they were just born, and Holly was screaming in pain.
That was the only time he struggled with their births. Seeing the love on her face, he knew he loved his children more than anything. Holly, though, was his life.
His beautiful wife stepped into his nightclub. Her hair was long with a few curls cascading through the length that fell to her waist. She was stunning. She wore a red dress, this one different. Three children later, she had told him there was no way she was fitting into the old one. He didn’t care. She had full curves, and he loved every inch of her.
Holly never had to hide her body from him. She was pure perfection.
She stepped toward the dance floor, the heels on her feet making his cock ache. She rarely wore heels with the kids and he wouldn’t want her to. Running after children required flats or sneakers, not heels. She would break her neck doing that.
The music began to change and she had already caught the attention of several men in the room. None of them would ever be able to touch. She belonged to him. And then, she started to dance. He watched her body, the way her hips swayed to the beat of the music. Her eyes were closed as she got lost.
Five years ago, he watched her, and before he got chance to touch, she had vanished into thin air. This time, he didn’t just have to watch. He could touch, and that was exactly what he intended to do. Throwing back the last of his whiskey, he got to his feet and stepped toward his wife. Other men watched him and they were clearly shocked, but as he wrapped an arm around her, Holly opened her eyes.
Sliding his thigh between her legs, he pulled her in close and allowed her to rock to the beat of the music. Slowly, the music filled their senses and the rest of the nightclub disappeared. It was only the two of them. He loved this woman so fucking much.
Holly slid her hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. “Happy Anniversary, Mason.”
He ran his hand down toward her ass, squeezing the flesh in his palm, hearing her moan. “Happy Anniversary, Holly.”
She tilted her head back and stared up at him.
Gripping the back of her head, he slammed his lips down on hers, taking the kiss he’d been craving for so long. Holly had given him more than just her love. She had given him a reason to live. She had given him something he never thought he would have. She’d given him a family, a life that he loved.
He was still Mason Campbell and he protected his family fiercely. That was never going to change, not now, not ever. He would always love his family and if anyone tried to take them away, they would answer to him. And no one would want to feel his wrath. He was a family man and a father, a husband, but he was still the king of this city, and he had no problems hurting those who threatened him. All they needed to do was ask William, her ex, who had decided to take a job overseas. Mason had warned him not to talk to Holly. It was a mistake he had made, and he had paid for it.
Holly would always be safe. She would only ever know happiness and love, because she belonged to him.
Staring into his wife’s eyes, he felt the love he had for her and only her. She was the woman for him and he would never, ever let her go.
The End
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BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER
TOXIC
Satan’s Death Riders MC, 1
Sam Crescent
Copyright © 2023
Sample Chapter
Life can change before we know it.
Rosalie Barlowe, or Rose to her friends, threw back her head and laughed. Her best friend couldn’t sing, not even a single note. Everything that came out of Petal’s mouth was a disaster. People would actually pay her to just shut up, but she loved her so damn much.
When a long note came up, she had no choice but to cover her ears. Once the song came to an end, Rosalie quickly turned the music down. “That’s enough singing for one day.”
“Spoil sport. Come on, it’s a lot of fun,” Petal said.
“We need to preserve our voices.” Rosalie touched her throat as it already felt a little scratchy from screeching at the top of her lungs.
Petal snorted. “Right, because asking horrible assholes if they want more coffee or the free fries is so challenging.”
Rosalie didn’t even need to look at her friend to know she was already rolling her eyes. They worked at Al’s Diner, a run-down shack in the middle of nowhere, but clearly had enough business as it had been going for years. Rosalie recalled many times her mother took her there for a birthday treat. Al made the best cakes. Even now kids got excited at the prospect of going to Al’s. As for her and Petal, they had long forgotten the attraction seeing as Al was … handsy.
He liked to think of them as his property and with him, they had no choice but to be stern. Some of the waitresses had fallen into his trap, but neither she nor Petal had. So long as they didn’t give him any confusing vibes, he left them alone.
“It’s a job.”
“Yeah, and when are we going to get out of this shithole!” Petal raised her voice and slammed her palm onto the steering wheel.
Ever since they were kids, they both had this dream of getting out of town, getting away and starting a new life together. Rosalie had spent many nights thinking about what she could do, where she could go. As the years went by, she realized she couldn’t leave her mom behind.
She had to protect her, from him.
“Where do you want to go?” Rosalie asked.
Petal tilted her head back and howled. “Anywhere but here.”
They both laughed.
For Petal, that often meant a beach with some kind of hunky stranger who was her love slave for all eternity. Rosalie wanted a life where her mother didn’t hear certain sounds and become a mess.
“That sounds awesome.”
“So, are we going to that party?” Petal asked.
“What party?”
Rosalie had no idea how her friend got to know where a party was happening let alone when. She never heard anything.
“At some biker bar, I think it is. It’s supposed to be like a big deal or something.”
She paused. “A biker bar?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what they’re called. Some kind of stupid name.”
Rosalie tried never to say the name but she needed to know. “Evil Fuckers MC?”
Petal threw back her head and laughed. She had no choice but to reach for the steering wheel as they veered a little toward the opposite road. Not good. She didn’t want to die.
Her friend whistled. “You saved us.”
“Yeah, I think it’s time we keep an eye on the road.”
There was no argument. Petal liked to have fun and party, but she also knew when to keep her shit together. This was one of those times. Neither of them wanted to die because she drove recklessly.
“What a messed-up name,” Petal said. “But it’s not that one.”
“It’s not?”
“No, this one … ugh, what is it?” She let one hand go off the wheel and clicked her fingers. “It’s Death something or other. This is going to drive me mental if I don’t think of it.”
Rosalie didn’t make it a habit of learning the names of MC clubs that often ventured through town. She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out her cell phone to see if her mother had called her. Nothing. She was probably still working.
Gabrielle, her mother, loved working in the fabric shop, but then she was also an avid seamstress. Like her mother, she also loved to sew and craft, but she’d not been able to get a job in the same store, so it was waitressing for her.
“Satan’s Death Riders MC.” Petal slapped the steering wheel. “That’s the club.”
“Seriously?”
Rosalie tried not to become aware of the local MCs that surrounded them, but she couldn’t help but hear the gossip.
The Satan’s Death Riders were meant to be worse than the Evil Fuckers MC, or they were supposed to be evenly matched in being assholes. Rosalie didn’t quite know which one it was. Either way, there was no way she would hang out at any MC club. None.
She wrinkled her nose. “Not happening.”
“Oh, come on, Rosalie. Free booze, lots of guys, dancing.”
“Yeah, I don’t think there’s going to be a whole lot of dancing in those places or free anything.” She rubbed at her temple, pleased to see her street coming up. She couldn’t afford her own car yet, so she constantly had to get rides from Petal. Not that her friend minded.
“It’s going to be fun and wild. We did promise ourselves we would live more dangerously while we’re still in town.”
Rosalie chuckled as she pulled up outside her home. She didn’t look back at her house and focused on her friend. “We said dangerous and wild, not crazy or making stupid decisions. We can’t go there.”
Another eye roll and Petal’s gaze went past her shoulder and she whistled. “Does your mom have a lover you don’t know about?”
“No, why?”
“Because that is one insane bike. Whoever is riding that, I bet is a scary motherfucker. Way to go, Gabby.”
Her mother hated that nickname. Rosalie had tried to get Petal to stop calling her that and once Petal saw how much it upset her, she stopped saying it in front of her.
Rosalie looked behind her and then saw the bike she hated more than anything in the world. She tried not to tense up or show her friend any sign that the bike affected her.
“It’s nothing,” Rosalie said, but she was already climbing out of the car.
“Whoa, Rose, you okay, babe?” Petal asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just better head inside. Call me later and we’ll talk about this MC party thing.”
“Come on, Rose, we’ve got to do something fun. Working at the diner, avoiding his hands is getting old and I’ve already checked. There are no other jobs for us, but there must be more to life than this.”
Rosalie forced a smile to her lips. Right now, she’d say or do anything to get Petal gone so she could go and see what the hell was going on.
“We’ll talk, okay?”
Petal threw her arms up in the air and whooped. “That’s what I’m talking about. Talk to you later, girlfriend.”
Rosalie stayed on her driveway, watching her friend leave and turn off the street, before spinning on her heel and rushing toward her home.
Pulling out her keys, her hands shook so badly. She tried to get her shit together, but she didn’t know how long he’d been here. She should have known there was something going on. The day had been too good. Her mother had been so happy this very morning. Everything had seemed amazing. Work aside, Rosalie had felt hopeful.
It was like he knew when her mother was feeling stronger, happier. He always stopped by to fuck it up. The piece of shit.
Twisting the key into the lock, Rosalie opened the door, being as noisy as possible.
“Mom, I’m home,” Rosalie said. “Sorry I’m late, I had to work at the diner a few extra hours. It was a crazy shift, but someone’s got to do it.”
She closed the door and stepped into the house, knowing he was there somewhere.
Rosalie took a step toward the kitchen and there he was—Daemon. She didn’t even know his last name. Her father. And … the president of the Evil Fuckers MC.
That was why she knew of the club and also why she would insist and try to lure her best friend into something else. Something safe. Something sane.
“Hello, Rosalie,” he said.
His voice was rough and always had a sharp edge to it. He wore his leather cut, but he’d opted for the one that didn’t have any sleeves, which showcased his endless tattoos as well as his muscles. He always did this on purpose.
“Where’s Mom?” she asked.
“Gabby’s in the kitchen.”
Staring at him, she tried to listen for her mother, for any sign that she was okay. With Daemon in their home, nothing was okay. Not until he left. Like so many other times before, she would have to pick up the pieces of the mess he created.
Rosalie had two choices: to stay where she was, keeping a distance between herself and her old man; or risk pissing him off, to go and check on her mother. He clearly didn’t want her to go into the kitchen, which only made her want to check on her mother even more.
Staring at him, she waited, hating him, and then decided Gabrielle was far more important than him.
Big mistake.
He wrapped his fingers around her neck and pressed her up against the nearest wall.
“Are you disobeying me?”
“I want to go check on my mother,” she said, gritting her teeth.
He tutted. “And I’m telling you that you’re not going. You will do as you’re told.” He didn’t cuss and was completely calm. This wasn’t good. This was never a good look. She stared at the man she called her father—well, she didn’t call him that—and wondered what the hell he’d done. The only consolation she had was she couldn’t hear her mother sobbing.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
He stared at her, his gaze moving up and down her body, assessing her.
“How old are you?” he asked.
This was almost laughable. He was her father and yet, he didn’t have a clue of her age.
“I’m twenty-one in a couple of weeks.”
He smiled and it scared the shit out of Rosalie. The man never smiled.
At the sight of her mother in the kitchen doorway, she was distracted.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart.” She was positively shaking. Were those red marks around her neck? “Your father wanted to talk to you about something.”
Rosalie didn’t want to talk to him about anything. There was nothing good he could say to her. She waited, trying to figure out what it was he wanted but she kept drawing a blank. It couldn’t be anything important.
“You’ll do. It would help if you were skinny, but I think we could make this work.”
She wanted him out of their house. Her mother was pale and she didn’t look good. She shook so freaking much as well. The fear was clearly getting too much for her.
“I think you should leave.”
“I’ve found a husband for you.”
This made Rosalie pause. “Excuse me.”
“You heard me. I found a husband for you. Sunday, a couple of the boys are going to pick you up. We’ll get everything ready. You can get married.”
“What the fuck?” she asked.
His lips pursed.
“I’m not getting married. There’s no way in hell I am.”
The calm, collective man was gone, and in his place was something far more terrifying as he wrapped his fingers around her throat and pressed her against the wall. He tightened his grip just enough to offer the threat of choking, but not too much to make her stop breathing.
The threat, though, oh, it was there.
“You will do as I fucking tell you,” Daemon said, practically spitting in her face as he did.
“Let her go,” Gabrielle said.
“Do you think I’ll stop with her? You know what I’m capable of, Gabby.”
“Leave her alone,” her mother said.
Daemon loosened his grip but she saw the look he sent her mother and that wasn’t good. Her mother could be the protector, but when faced with him, she crumbled.
“It’s fine. It’s fine,” Rosalie said, stepping in front of her mother so he could only see her. “Sunday, a couple of your guys will pick me up. It’s fine.”
He took a step toward her.
“Mom, why don’t you go and fix us some food?” Rosalie said, facing off with the man that terrified her.
She wished she had the strength to take him out. Her hands clenched, hoping one day she’d get to hurt him, just once. To make him afraid as he’d made her mother for so many years.
“When you arrive at my clubhouse, I expect you to dress accordingly. I’ll send the necessary clothes, and you will not speak, you will not say a single word. If you do, I’ll make sure your mother pays for it.”
Rosalie tried not to argue with him. Keeping her lips closed, she stared at him, waiting, and then Daemon took one last lingering look into the kitchen, before turning on his heel and leaving. The moment the door closed, Rosalie rushed to it and flicked the lock into place. Her throat felt sore.
She didn’t linger, though, and instead went straight to her mother. “Are you okay?”
Gabrielle broke down. She collapsed to the floor, covering her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry, Rose, so, so, so sorry.”
Rosalie wrapped her arms around her mother, holding her. “It will be fine.”
“How? You will … he’ll…”
“It’ll be fine.”
