Redemption
"I don’t know how to dance, Dais," he admits, and I giggle.
"I don’t really know how either, but I know the trick is to sway." I reach up to slide my arms around his neck, which is easier in these heals but still a feat with his height.
Sea laughs at me. "Did you wear those fuck me heels just so I would dance with you?" he asks with an adorable smile on his face. I shake my head and laugh right back.
"No, I chose these heels so you’d fuck me," I say, right there on the dance floor as we sway around near the other couples dancing, including Elena and Reed.
"I love you so damn much, Daisy," Seamus says with a chuckle. I cannot think of a better time to share my special news before the girls get big mouths.
I kiss him. "I'm pregnant." I don’t see a need for a lengthy speech about it; just to tell him.
"Repeat it," he says, sounding breathless as the swaying stops.
"I'm-" I never get it out again as his lips crash against mine. I didn’t think he would have a problem with it, but I also don’t expect the level of happiness he has. I can just feel it in this kiss.
He pulls away with the biggest smile on his face I have ever seen, and I can't help but smile too. "You just made me the happiest fuckin' man in the world." Then, he turns to the crowd, celebrating Elena’s and Reed's wedding, and shouts it to them all, not waiting even a heartbeat. That’s my ox for sure.
"Everyone, Daisy is havin' my fuckin' baby!" he yells. I laugh as everyone hoots and hollers and looks to me with congratulations; all expect one.
I catch Kyle's face, and he is staring at me like he has lost it all.
Chapter 22
Seamus
I open the car door for Dais, feeling like I am fuckin' high on life as I help her climb in. We have just come from the doc's office where she had an ultrasound. I still can't believe she is pregnant, and with my baby. I don’t think I could have imagined this kind of happiness in my whole life, and even though I know she is so worried she is going to lose this one, I feel good about it. I don't think anyone is going to stop this crazy roller coaster from reaching its destination; me as a pops.
I shut her door and go around to the driver’s seat. I insisted that we come in the car and not on the cycle. I don’t think she could handle that still feeling easily nauseous. She is over 20 weeks now, just hitting the 21 week mark, and she would not let me know the gender until then. She didn’t want to know out of pure fear. I know now, though, we both do, and despite the way she feels, I know she is happy. We are having a little boy.
I start the engine and drive the way back to Gainesville and church with the windows down, whipping my hair at this speed. "You know I'm gonna throw you in our bed and fuck you the moment we get back home. I am so fuckin' happy, and I need to celebrate," I tell her with a big grin on my face.
Daisy laughs. "No way, I feel like absolute crap Sea, and having that blue jelly shit on me just makes me feel worse; all sticky and stuff,” she says, making a face at me.
"You may feel like that, but I promise you that you're looking like a nice slice of cheesecake." Daisy busts out laughing, and I can't help but feel my heart swell at all of this. It’s like I am living in a dream. I, the bane of my rich father and MC oaf, have landed a beautiful princess, and now we're going to be a family. It doesn’t get better than this.
When we pull up to the club, I am hoping there are plenty of people to shout the news to, because I do not think I can hold it in that I am going to be the proud pops of a little boy, a little boy who is going to look like his hot, beautiful mother, Daisy.
I take her hand and walk inside to find at least the most important members in there together. They look kind of tense, but I ignore it, too high to be dragged down.
"It's a boy!" I yell and am greeted with pats on the back and congratulations. But Daisy isn’t so fooled by the sudden burst of happiness in the room. She is going to get to the bottom of the sour look on everyone’s faces.
Dais turns to Reed. "What’s going on. Ya'll look like somebody died," she asks. I hate that she is killing the mood, but as I look at Reed, I can tell something bad has happened while we were gone.
"Spit it out, Reed, what the fuck did we miss?" I ask, feeling damn concerned now. It isn’t him who answers, though. It’s his wife.
"Dais, Sea, I don’t want to burst the good vibe, but something has happened," she says. Dais looks at her, and I help her into a seat. I don’t want my Dais to get some bad news and faint or something. It’s my jib to make sure she’s taken care of as well as that baby inside her. "You know Kyle went to Vegas to blow off some steam, well, we found out that Kyle has been arrested."
"For what?" I ask, not sure what it could be that would be so bad she couldn’t get him off. She is fuckin' FBI after all.
"He woke up with a dead girl in his hotel room," she tells us, and my jaw almost hits the fuckin' floor. What the hell is going on? "He has been booked and charged with murder."
"What the fuck, Reed, do you really believe that shit? Kyle is a lot of things, but a murderer? He would never murder a girl in cold blood!" Daisy screams, standing up in a tizzy. I settle her back down, sitting next to her and pulling her into my arms. I do not like the way any of this shit sounds. I don’t think the ass would just kill some girl either.
Reed finally lifts his head to talk with us. "I agree, Dais. I don’t think he could do that either. But Elena has been on the phone this whole time, getting as much intel as she can. The evidence is damning," Reed says, looking drained and defeated like I have never seen my Prez before. Not only is Kyle his VP, but he is his blood brother. I can’t imagine what he is feeling right now.
"Elena, did he do it?" Daisy asks in a weak voice, beginning to cry. I hold her tighter to me.
"The evidence is on point, Dais, it’s perfect, I can’t lie about that," Elena admits, but I see something in her eyes as she paces the floor and taps her foot that tells me there is more to this shit story. "But I don’t think he did it either. I don’t like him, but I don’t see him as a murderer. Besides, evidence is rarely so cut and dry," she announces. I could see those wheels turning in her brain. If anyone could figure this out, it would be Elena. Then, Elena suddenly looks up at Reed. "Could the cartel be behind this, Reed?" she asks. My ears are fuckin' perked up at that theory. "Think about it," she explains, going back to pacing. "They came and shot up the bar but nothing else happened. It’s like they've been gone for months, and we thought they forgot about us or were trying more indirect strategies to get at us. But I don’t think it’s ever that simple..."
"And now Kyle’s paying the price," I say, as my Babygirl’s eyes go wide in horror.
"How are we gonna get him out of this?" she whimpers.
Elena shakes her head. "I don't know, Dais, but I am gonna keep trying."
Free Chapter (REIGN)
REIGN
A Skulls Renegade Novel
Book #1
www.elizabethknoxbooks.com
Chapter 1
Elena
“Are you sure you want to do this? You haven’t been in the field in six years. I’m not just your handler; I’m your best friend. I’m worried about you.” Kristie was my best friend; we had met at Quantico and went through the same training program. It was a pleasant surprise when we both were assigned to the Cincinnati field office. Kristie loved being a handler, but I didn’t. I took the job when things with Rich got serious because he expressed how worried he was for me if I was on the field. So, I made that sacrifice, for our relationship; I stopped doing what I loved and became a desk jockey.
I loved being in the field, the rush, the thrill of it. The adrenaline pumping through my veins gave me the best feeling in the world. I felt invincible, and I was. I was until I got shot in the shoulder. The docs said I would never be able to return to field duty, but I never was one who liked to be told what was or wasn’t going to happen. So, what did I do? I proved all the docs wrong and came back stronger than ever.
“Kristie, I need this. I gave up so much of myself for Rich, and then that bastard lied and cheated, throwing everything I did for him in the trash. I need to go back to being Elena, the kick ass field agent. I need to take down some bad guys. I need to feel like myself again.” It was the absolute truth. I was beginning to realize that over the past five years I had felt like a robot. Like I had only been here to please Rich, not to do anything for myself, but everything for him.
“I can’t condone that your shitty love life is the reason for going back in the field. But as your handler, I know what type of asset you are to the bureau.”
Because I’m kick ass, she doesn’t have to say it, but we both know it.
I leaned back, slightly sinking into her couch, pulling her fluffy blanket closer to my chest. “So, what’s my assignment?” I grinned like a kid on Christmas morning. Ironically, it was Christmas Eve, but still. I was experiencing the same effect.
Kristie handed me a folder, and I opened it, skimming over the documentation and photographs. “Skulls Renegade MC, huh?” I flipped through the rest of the paperwork, looking at the photographs of the main members, plus some history on each of them. There wasn’t much intel, just birthdates, socials, where they were from. “They’ve kept quiet,” I muttered. Kristie took a sip of her bottle of wine.
“Yes, they have. But not quiet enough. We have an informant saying they’re doing some major drug trading and they’re in a prostitution ring. You’re going in to find out what’s really going on. Gather enough intel, issue warrants and get out. These are brutal criminals, El. Taking them down would blow up both of our careers.”
Like I needed to know what kind of men are in the MC lifestyle? I didn’t need a reminder. “I’ve got it covered.” Kristie handed me another folder.
“This is your cover story.”
I opened it up, looking at the profile they’d created for me. Kristie knew me well enough to know I wouldn’t use it, so what was the point in even showing me? On every assignment I’d ever been on, I’d been given a profile to study: dates, times, life events, other crap. I had to make my cover real. I understand the important of that, of course, but it had always been easier for me to alter my own profile. That way I didn’t slip up. The bureau never did like the way I operate, but they didn’t say a damn thing anymore because I always got the job done.
Kristie handed me a burner phone. “You’d better call me every Monday at ten in the morning with updates. I mean it.”
I smiled at her. “You got it, boss.”
***
I left the next morning; Christmas Day. There wasn’t a point in staying around now that there was nothing tying me down. Plus, I needed an outlet for my anger and pain, and quick. This was going to be my redemption job. My way to being the Elena I could recognize when I looked in the mirror.
I packed two duffel bags full of necessities; clothes, shampoo, and makeup. I hopped in my 2017 Ford Mustang and hit the road.
Destination: Tennessee
It took me six hours to get there; the MC was located right in the mountains in the small town of Gainesville. It was truly a small town. There’s a bank, a couple restaurants, a grocery store, law office, daycare, school, and not much else.
I found a half-way decent room at the only motel in town. From the looks of it, it probably had roaches. The sooner I could get into the club, the better. I wouldn’t be getting an ounce of sleep in that shit hole.
I took a quick shower, cringing because the white tile was yellow. They had a ‘cleaning service,' but I doubted it had been properly cleaned in years.
I dried my hair, applied some makeup, and dumped all my clothes out on the bed. My plan? Go to the biker bar, get a few drinks, and make my presence known. My tactic? Easy.
I was going to dress like an Ol’ Lady, not like some stupid little skank who comes to the bar just to suck their cocks. I learned from my mother how to dress the part. Ol’ Ladies aren’t there to service the men. I sure as hell would not be there to do that either. I was going to be walking in like I owned the place because I did.
These bikers were going bow on their knees when I walked in because I bet you no bitch had ever dressed as I was about to.
I grabbed a pair of black leather leggings and black heels; the heel so thin that stepping the wrong way could crack it. I found a thin, jersey type tank top and paired it with my emerald green leather jacket. I pulled my hair out over my jacket, the loose curls bouncing over my breasts. I went into the bathroom, applied a little more eyeliner and touched up my neutral matte lipstick. I slid on my metallic aviators and went for the front door.
I was good to go.
Free Chapter (Promised)
Promised
The Clans
Book #1
www.elizabethknoxbooks.com
Chapter 1
Ion
I turned my green eyes towards the window of my penthouse apartment which overlooked the upper west side of Manhattan. I flicked my wrist to make the scotch in my glass slosh around impatiently as if I expected her to just show up on the street someday, looking up towards me as if she could see me. Yet, I spent eight years looking for both her and the bastards that took her, with no success. Most would not have waited so long, but I had my reasons. They were all selfish, and all valid.
The she in question was Mariana Vasile, the last remaining heir to the Romanian mob; a princess in her own right. She was the rightful next in line to run the clans, but she was a woman, and Romanians just did not see fit for a woman to be a leader. Maybe the Russians or the Irish did it, but the Romanians were all about tradition. So, the clans would pass on to her husband instead.
That would be where I come in.
She was promised to me when she was just days old.
Mariana was to be my queen, and I would be the king of the mob; the power of the infamous Vasile clan passing onto my shoulders as it had been planned since the day she was born. By now, I should have been married to her for at least six of the years she had been missing, but someone had seen fit to slaughter the Vasile line and take her, the last of the bloodline as the prize, probably believing that one day they would have the claim to the throne. The saddest part of it all is that she was she had only been 16 when they took her. I’d been working tirelessly, putting all of my resources into finding her. It had been years, and not one single trace of where she could be found had surfaced.
I’ll look, I’ll hunt, and one day I will bring my Ana home. She took my heart when she was just a child, at one of the few times we met. I knew from the time I was a small boy that she was mine, and that first meeting she took my heart with her.
Whoever it was who took her must not know me well. Ion Petran was the name I would shove down the throat of my enemy before I made him rue the day he tried to take that blood right from me. Nobody was going to take what was mine and get away with it – Ana – my promised throne, none of it. I didn’t care if my brown hair turned gray by the time I found her, I was going to get what I was promised and save her from whatever horrible fate she had been forced into all these years.
Just as it began to rain, water droplets pelting dramatically against the glass, I was pulled away by the incessant buzz of my cell phone. I was not in the mood to talk with anyone; obsessing over my next move to try and find the woman who was the key to everything I ever wanted, but I had to answer. The person on the other side could always have news of Mariana, and I was not going to miss that for the world.
"Buna," I said impatiently into the receiver, waiting to hear why one of my men had disturbed me.
"Domn, we have news that we thought you would like to hear," the thick voice of one of my associates came through the receiver. He was the leader of one of the several groups of men I had hired to hunt down those responsible for Mariana's disappearance and the murder of her parents. I’d spent millions on her search. It’s about time that they have something useful for me.
"Vorbi repede! Speak quickly! What do you know? Wh
at have you found?" I asked in a state of excitement. I waited with bated breath for the answer to my unworthy prayers over the last eight years, when I had shifted from a hopeful young man to an angry one with a vendetta.
"We believe we have a lead on the whereabouts of Miss Mariana Vasile." My heart skipped a beat at his words, and I wondered if I had misheard or maybe dreamed it. It had been years, and now they suddenly find a lead? What changed?
"Meet me at my office immediately. We have important matters to discuss," I ordered, recovering almost instantly. It was the best news I had heard in a long time, and I hung up, downing the rest of my scotch before I went to the closet. I pulled out my black Armani coat and pulled it over the button down I still had on from my investment meeting earlier. Even a man of the mob had to keep up appearances. The upper west side was full of men just like me, pretending to be something they weren’t while doing devious but lucrative things in the dark of night or the privacy of their lofts. So, as I climbed into the back of the black car with the tinted windows, I faded into the idea of the rich, mysterious, New York man, while I pondered on how much information my associates would be able to give me.
Eight years I had spent waiting for news of my Mariana, but her trail had gone dead far too soon. I had fallen into a routine of waiting; waiting for my life as head of the clans, beginning with, Mariana Valise by my side. No one could question me like the way they did now amidst the chaos that had become of the mob clans since the Valise king and queen had been brutally dethroned. If there was ever the perfect timing to find her, this was it.
I tried to relax in the back seat of the car, pouring myself a flute of champagne from the supply my driver kept well stocked for me, but not even the bubbles served to calm my nerves. Champagne is a custom, a common one for celebrations. Maybe today I will be celebrating the news I’ve been waiting years to hear. I was on some kind of high as I took the elevator up to the office space I rented out for the purpose of making it seem that I ran a legitimate business. Part of being a mob leader was mastering such deceptions. My father had taught me well.