First Love: A Superbundle Boxed Set of Seven New Adult Romances (145 page)

Shit, Jo, Brent says Brit shoved you in a limo.

I stare at the phone, willing Jo to write me back. Nobody leaves the room, waiting to see what I will do. Brittany sighs like a drama queen, and I’m so tempted to have her thrown out on her ass that it takes all my control to turn away.

“She’ll be fine,” Buster says. “It’s just The Cure.”

I glare at him. He doesn’t know anything. What Pop did to the last girl. What he did to me.

Shit.

I drop into a chair and send another message.

Goddamn it, my father talked to you, didn’t he?

Still nothing. Maybe she is still in his limo, circling the block. I jump up to take off on my Harley, but Doc Simon intercepts me. “No driving, not yet. I want to watch you a little longer. You took some blows back there.”

“Everybody OUT!” I roar. “All of you.” If I’m stuck here, I want the rest of them out of my sight. I blame them all for what happened. Brittany most of all.

But nobody stopped her. Nobody stood up for Jo.

When they’ve all filed out except Doc, who stubbornly sits in a chair by the door. I dial my father’s number.

He answers in one ring.

“Another loss, I hear, Son,” he says smoothly.

“Yeah, nice to talk to you too,” I answer. “Where is Jo?”

The phone is silent.

“Is she still with you? Where the hell is she?”

For once, my father seems at a loss for words. “She took off like a gazelle,” he finally says. “Flighty, that girl.”

“What do you mean, took off? Did you drop her off somewhere?”

He clears his throat. “No, I mean, she flew the coop.”

“Speak English. Where did she go?”

Now his voice gives its first hint of concern. “I’m not sure what you see in that girl, Colt. I’ve spent the last ten minutes trying to locate her.”

“Where the hell did she go?” My panic starts to rise. If he was looking for her, something had happened.

“She vacated the car near the park.”

My vision goes red. The man is so damn maddening. “What are you saying, Dad? What did she do? What did YOU do?”

“She jumped from the car.”

“At a red light?”

“More like in the middle of the road.”

My stomach hits the floor. “Did you go back for her? Is she hurt?”

“We’ve been circling, but no sign of her.”

I hang up the call and push past Doc Simon. The park is only a couple miles from here.

“Colt, you aren’t up for riding that Harley right now,” he says, standing as if he can possibly stop me.

I don’t even pause, throwing open the door.

The rest of the team stands in the hallway, looking up when I storm out. I have nothing to say to any of them.

Brent chases after me. “You need a ride somewhere?” he asks. “Can I help?”

I ignore him, yanking my keys from my pocket. There’s a rat on my team somewhere, and I don’t trust a single person.

I’m going to find Jo. Myself.

And damned if I’ll let any of them stand in my way.

I hope you will continue with Volume 3 of
Uncaged Love
. I know not everyone is a fan of cliffhangers, but I LOVE writing serials that feel like a roller-coaster TV series. I am grateful for all my fans who love them too.

This five-part series is COMPLETE and is waaaay longer than just one book at 500 print pages. (And the cliffies get much, much crazier.)

I took lots of bumps and bruises for
Uncaged Love
by taking fight class with MMA fighters. I hope you will come along for the ride as I write a new MMA series with Parker called
Fight for Her
.

See a list of all JJ Knight’s books.

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Go look at their pictures
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Come join the fun. We have LOTS.

Thank you for reading!

Love, JJ
 

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No One’s Angel

By Kelly Walker

Description:
Tess used to spend more hours than she’d care to admit playing her favorite computer game, using the nickname Angel. She could pretend her life was different, and she could pretend Arion was just a friend. But a girl needs more to keep her warm at night than pixels, and she traded her virtual heaven for a real-life hell. Now she’s on the run from a past she won’t talk about, and the only place she has to go is the doorstep of the friend she’s never actually met.
When Angel disappeared from their nightly games, it nearly destroyed Arion. He threw himself into work and women, but he can’t help knowing the one-night stands will never compare to the angel who haunts his dreams. At first, when she shows up soaking wet and scared-shitless on his doorstep, he thinks his prayers have been answered.
But the more Arion tries to keep Angel close, the more her fear drives her away. If they are ever going to have a chance for a future, they’ll first have to deal with the past that hasn’t forgotten her any more than she’s forgotten it—and Arion will have to learn how to let her go.
No One's Angel is a New Adult (NA) Contemporary Romance about a girl learning to fight back and a boy learning how to let go. It is recommended for mature audiences only due to language and sexual content. (HEA ending and cliffhanger free.)

For those who fought

and those who didn’t

for those who got away

and those who couldn’t

for each of the silent sisterhood

who know that any is too many

Let your past be but a mere shadow behind you as you walk forward

brave enough to face the sun of a brighter tomorrow.

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the name brand/registered products and wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction.

Names, characters, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright
ｩ
2013 by Kelly Walker. All rights reserved.

www.kellywalker.net

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One

Angel

When people say soaked to the bone, I think this is what they mean. I’m not sure what has chilled me more: the ice-cold rain pelting my face or the memories of what I’ve left behind. I can’t go back, so I have to find a way forward. Life isn’t a game, and I can’t replay this level, no matter how much I wish I could.

Shivering, I shift the strap of my backpack to my other shoulder and squint at the soggy corner of an old Christmas card. It’s been clutched in my hand for so long it might be unreadable even without the downpour. If I wasn’t numb, I might panic. The rain must have distorted the address, because according to the lump of cottage cheese-like paper in my hand, his house should be here. Unless he lied, which is always possible. Maybe even probable.
 

As I scan the deserted Philadelphia street, I try to shove the useless paper in my pocket, but the drenched denim is plastered to my hips. Across the watery road, a bar sign blinks, beckoning to the college kids from a few blocks over. I’ve already watched a few go in as I stood here, wondering where to go next. Because I don’t have anywhere else to go. There’s three dollars left in my pocket, not even enough for a coffee. I spent everything I’d managed to get a hold of on a plane ticket from Tucson to Philly. No matter how inviting the bistro next to the bar looks, I can’t even afford a sandwich. I’m screwed.

Another round of shivers leaves my teeth chattering, and I can’t take it anymore. Bars are usually dark; maybe I can hide in a back corner or something and dry out for a few minutes while I make a plan. That’s all I need, a plan, and then everything will work out. I’ll find him, and it will be okay. If I tell myself that long enough, I might even start to believe it. Who am I kidding?

A bouncer cocks an amused eye at me as I walk in. “Forget your umbrella, sweetheart?”

To forget it, I’d need to own one first. And I own nothing but what I brought in my backpack. Living in Tucson, an umbrella hadn’t been high on my list of necessities.
You wanted different,
I remind myself. Shrugging at the bouncer, I work my way through the meager crowd of scantily dressed coeds, aiming for the blonde watching me from behind the bar instead of for the back. If I remembered correctly—which was a big if—he’d taken a few college classes, maybe even at the college down the street. It couldn’t hurt to ask if she knew him.

“What can I get for you?” A bright smile plastered on her face reveals teeth about two shades too white.

Oh, the options. A new life. Or even just dry clothes. Since I turned twenty-one a few months ago, I could even ask for a drink if I could afford one. “Um, a glass of water, maybe?” The irony of asking for water while soaking wet isn’t lost on me.

Blondie’s smile fades. “If you’re gonna sit in here, you have to be a paying customer.” She wrinkles her nose as she turns away, dismissing me.

Desperation, barely disguised as eagerness, has me leaning across the bar, trying to keep her attention. “Actually, I was looking for someone. I think he may live near here. Arion. I mean, Axel. Maybe you know him?” I could kick myself for using the wrong name. I probably sound like a stalker or a lunatic. Maybe even both.

When Blondie turns back to me, nodding, her eyes have taken on an entirely new gleam. She looks me over from head to toe, then laughs out loud. “Sure, kid. I know him. Top floor. First door, can’t miss it.” She points to a side door with a long cherry-red nail, still laughing.
 

I don’t even care that she called me kid. The immediate sense of gratitude and relief flooding through me lessens the sting of her laughter, and I dart toward the door as if the Fountain of Life might lie on the other side. Or at least the Fountain of Hope.
 

My wet hand slides on the door handle, but after a moment of fumbling, I let myself into a dingy but clean hallway. Cheap lighting barely illuminates the stairwell to my right, and for a moment, it occurs to me that this is a little too close to a standard scene from a bad horror movie. Maybe I should just go out the door in front of me. I can hear cars passing in the street on the other side, so I’m pretty sure it leads outside. Back into the rain.

Brushing a still-dripping strand of dark hair out of my eyes, I start up the steps. At least they seem sturdy. Enough, anyway. Blondie said the top floor, so I don’t even pause at the landing; I just turn and go up the next flight of stairs. There’s no number on the door, no name or anything, but it’s the first door on the top floor. Here, I do pause.

What if Blondie was messing with me? This could be some back room where they do…favors…or something. No matter how bad things are—and they’re pretty bad, I’ll be the first to admit—I don’t want any part of anything like that. I should go.

The door opens to feminine giggling, and a blonde steps out while still zipping up her pants. Red lace peaks out from beneath a shirt advertising the bar below. The only thing longer than her legs is her hair, and she flashes me a Cheshire Cat grin before yelling over her shoulder, “Someone’s here. Maybe a new hire, or something?”

Yup. I should definitely go.
 

Blonde Number Two brushes past me with a giant purse slung over her shoulder, and I turn to follow.

“Hey, wait,” a voice I’ve heard a million times says from the doorway behind me. I freeze, suspended somewhere in the middle of hope and heartbreak.
 

It’s him. He’s here.
 

I found him, but what will I say? I had it all worked out in my head, but now, for once in my life, words fail me. I can talk my way into trouble with a deaf priest, but at this moment, my lips have taken a vacation. I can’t even breathe. I want to throw my arms around him, but who throws their arms around a guy they’ve never met? Then again, who bolts across the country to meet the guy she’s only spoken to just because she used to tell him everything from safely behind a computer screen and headset? Only someone desperate.

I guess he’s grown tired of me standing in the hallway like a mute moron, facing away from him, because he reaches for my arm just as I turn toward him. I don’t even mean to, I just react, jerking my arm away and pressing myself against the wall. My heart is flapping around my chest, like a trapped bird slamming itself into a windowpane because it sees safety on the other side without realizing its desperate attempts to live free will actually bring its death. I’m the stupid bird, and I know it.