Hiding Out (Hawks MC: Caroline Springs Charter, #2)
Read Hiding Out (Hawks MC: Caroline Springs Charter, #2) Online
Authors: Lila Rose
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H
iding Out
Caroline Springs Charter #2
Copyright © 2015 by Lila Rose
All rights reserved. No part of this e-Book may be used or reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied format without the permission from the author as allowed under the terms and conditions with which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution, circulation or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.
Hiding Out
is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events and places found in this book are either from the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons live or dead, actual events, locations, or organisations is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Editing & Formatting:
Hot Tree Editing
Cover Designer: Robin Ludwig Designs
ISBN: 978-0-9944525-1-1
Cover Photographer: Cyndi Gordon Photography
Cover Model: Travis DesLaurier
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Dedicated to
Lindsey Lawson
The woman who has been there, and supported me, from the start and who has always had my back!
Acknowledgments
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F
irst and always, Becky and her team at Hot Tree Editing.
Cyndi, for her amazing photo and for never once getting annoyed with all my messages.
Travis, for being willing to be on the cover. You make the perfect Dodge!
To my ladies in the Hawks MC Fan Group. The help you give me, I appreciate having it every day. Naming the characters wouldn't be the same without your input! Love ya all xx
TL Smith, you, girlfriend, have a gift to write dark scenes. Thank you for your help and your friendship!
Robin Ludwig, thank you for putting up with my nagging, and most of all, thank you for your superb touches for the cover.
My soul sister, Justine Littleton xxx
Lastly, but never least, my family. Your encouragement and love means everything to me.
W
illow
"Come on, Low, you need a night out. When was the last time you got laid?" my co-worker, from the small supermarket we worked at together, questioned as she stood at her empty register. Thank God I was also free of customers in the run-down, rarely busy supermarket because Lucia went on. "You need a good shag, woman. Everyone can see how tense your arse is."
I giggled and shook my head at her. "Babe, why are you so worried about my arse?
I'm
fine with not getting any, so
you
shouldn't worry about it, either." I sent her an eye roll before picking up a new magazine to read.
"You work too hard, always asking for extra shifts. You have no fun, and a no-fun Willow is a dull bitch. I want, just one day, to come in to work and you tell me about a good pounding you got the night before."
"Pfft! Aren't your own adventures enough to keep you occupied?" I asked, thumbing through the 'Who's Wearing What' section.
"I don't have enough going on in my life since being with Alex. I need to live through you now, girl, unless I cheat on my man. You wouldn't want that, would you? It'd be your fault if I cheated."
Snorting, I said, "You are so full of it. As if you would cheat on Alex. He dotes on you like you're a queen. Why would you want to ruin that? Plus, like you said, he's magical in bed. Now
that's
something I've never experienced." Sighing, I put the magazine back and grabbed another. My sex life was, and always had been, non-existent. I was a twenty-two-year-old, born-again virgin. 'Born again' because I'd only had one lover, which lasted long enough for him to take my V-card and leave, never to be seen again. Not that Lucia knew that. I shuddered at the thought if she found out my snatch hadn't any visitors for the last six years. She'd probably organise a 'losing your V-card second time around’ party, lining up several men to knock out that pesky grown-over-again hymen.
I glanced up at her and then back down before continuing. "And you know why I have to work my arse off. I need out of my cousin's house. I need to make a life for myself."
Living with a cousin I hardly knew, despite being there for two years, was something I never thought I'd do. There were so many contributing factors to why I was still there.
Like two years ago, the first time I tried to leave my high-on-ice parents' house only to find I couldn't because they'd stolen from me. After saving my arse off, I'd decided it was NL day, as in New Life day. I went to the bank to collect the hard-earned money, only to discover my account was dry. My parents had stolen my money so they could get high and invest in their own little pharmacy. An ignorant error on my behalf, having them added to my account in case they needed extra money for food and such. I'd left school at the age of sixteen so I could work and get out of my parents' house. It took me until I was twenty to have enough cash to make the escape. I didn't hate them for it, though.
I couldn't. They were my parents.
I was annoyed. No, that wasn’t right. I was pissed. I wanted to string them up by their toes on the clothesline and beat them senseless, but I didn’t.
They were neglectful parents, but they weren’t so bad. They didn't beat me. They weren't mean to me nor did they abuse me. They simply didn't care enough about their child.
Ever since my younger sister drowned when I was six, ice became more important than anything to my parents. I cooked, cleaned, and did my own homework without any help. I raised myself. So even though I didn't hate them, I'd felt nothing when they died two months after I'd turned twenty. Unsurprisingly, they'd OD'd from an experimental batch gone wrong. I'd lost both my parents in one night, yet I spilled no tears to grieve for them.
I felt nothing.
My apathy wasn't because they'd left me with nothing; I had no money and no place to stay, so I was evicted. I was sure my lack of concern was because they didn't care enough about their only living daughter which caused me, in turn, to not care about them.
I still wasn't sure if that made me a bad person. The only saving grace at the time was the fact that my cousin, Colton, had turned up the day after their deaths and offered me some help. Not having many friends I could rely on, or any other family, I had no choice but to take him up on his offer. I didn't want to live on the streets and fend for myself. So even though Colton was practically a stranger, I had limited options but to trust him.
At least it worked out. Colton kept to himself. We shared the house, but honestly, we hardly saw each other. I was always busy working and he was busy...doing whatever he did. I’d asked questions about him, but it seemed he wasn’t willing to share too much. I prayed every night I hadn’t moved in with a serial killer. He never gave off the vibe he’d like to hack me up into tiny pieces, thankfully. He
was
my cousin, after all, and he was kind enough to look out for me. Still, I bought a lock for my bedroom door. However, what helped was that over the two years, he was more like a weird reclusive housemate than a family member. He’d moved me into the house he inherited from his father. My uncle had been rich,
very
rich, and left everything to Colton. I never really knew my uncle. He disowned my family, his drugged-up brother. I couldn't blame him, really; I'd been ashamed, as well.
Despite a pretty peaceful two years, I was ready to move out and stand on my own two feet. Excitement thrummed through me every time I thought about having a place of my own, followed by a giddy feeling in my stomach. Even though Fate had thrown me a crappy deck by bringing me into a world where the people who
were
my family didn't care an ounce about me, I was proud of the person I'd become. I strived to be better each day, to be nothing like my parents, where through the struggles of life, I didn’t turn to alcohol or drugs and things were looking up. Finally, I was escaping the deep doo-doo that'd been thrown my way.
It was a new beginning for me, and I couldn't wait.
Shrugging the thoughts away, I continued talking to Lucia and flipping through the pages. "You never know, when I'm finally on my own two feet and in my own place, maybe I could find my own Alex. Or even start to have some fun by getting down and dirty with some stranger who would cause my girly parts to sing a hymn..." I stopped because I got the eerie feeling Lucia and I weren't alone. I looked up from the magazine to find a fine specimen of man standing in the doorway of the supermarket. Gorgeous, blondish-brown messy hair, ocean-blue eyes, and a large frame, which I guessed was popping with toned muscles, he wore dark jeans that hugged his firm thighs. I found myself wishing he would turn around to give us a show of his butt while shaking it. Combining that with a tight black tee and leather jacket, I was losing grip on reality and wondered if I'd somehow knocked myself out.
Then it all came back to me, the last words said from my mouth. I blushed and prayed that the sinful man hadn't heard. Yet his smirk and wink as he walked past told me he had. I wanted to curl into a ball under my counter and pretend I wasn't there.
"Willow," Lucia said.
"Yes?" I sighed.
"Can you get me a mop?"
Dragging my reluctant eyes away from a
sweet
tush, I looked to her to see she was still watching the walking sin. "Why?" I asked.
She grinned wickedly before saying, "Because I just creamed my panties and made a puddle on the floor while watching that damn fine man walk in here."
"Lucia." I gasped and quickly looked down the aisle where my fantasy man had walked. He was no longer in sight. "You can't say that stuff out loud."
"Oh, girl, I can and I will." Then she laughed. "At least it wasn't me who said I was gonna get down and dirty and have my girly parts sing as he walked in."
"Snap, he heard?"
"Sure did." She grinned.
Standing up straight, I looked to the clock. It was past seven at night which meant... "At least I don't have to embarrass myself more. It's time for me to go." I smiled, grabbed my bag from under the counter and walked over to Lucia for a quick hug goodbye.
