Q – Satan’s Fury MC Read Online L. Wilder

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
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Some chances are worth taking.
Twenty years had come and gone.
My brothers were now older with crow’s feet and silvered hair.
Their kids were no longer kids.
Prospects had become brothers, and more had come to take their place.
It was tough to see that everything had changed—
Everything except me.
I was a stone left unturned.
I thought my day would never come.
But then, I saw her.
She had a fire in her eyes and a mouth full of sass.
But she was broken—haunted by a cruel past.
Making her mine wouldn’t be easy, but I was a patient man.
I just had to convince her that I was a chance worth taking.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

“You worthless fucking cunt! You can’t do anything right!”

The back of my husband’s hand met my cheek with a forceful blow, sending my head rearing back with a painful jolt. The sting of the hit hurt like hell, but I didn’t have time to think about the pain. There would be more blows to follow.

There always were more, especially when he’d been drinking.

I’d smelled the booze on his breath—heard the rasp of rage in his voice, so I dropped to the floor and quickly drew my knees up to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my head, shielding my face as I pleaded, “Please stop, James. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

“Don’t start with your fucking excuses! I’m sick of hearing it!” His steel-toed boot slammed into my side, causing all the air to rush from my lungs. Thankfully, my adrenaline had started to kick in and was shielding me from the pain, but sadly, adrenaline never lasted for long. Soon, I would feel every blow, every throbbing muscle, every cut, and every bruise.

I hated feeling so broken and weak.

There was a time when I fought back.

I would let my rage take over, and I’d give as good as I got. At five-nine and a hundred and eighty pounds, I was no delicate flower. I also had my grandmother’s fiery spirit coursing through my veins, so I was more than capable of dishing out a few worthy pushes or punches.

Sadly, a few punches weren’t enough. James was twice my size and all muscle. I was simply no match for him, and when I fought back, he simply hit harder.

His tone grew even more threatening as he roared, “It’s always the same! Excuses. Excuses. Excuses. That’s all you got.”

“I don’t want to fight, James. Please, just stop.”

“You don’t want to fight? You should’ve thought of that before you screwed up dinner. I bust my ass to provide for you and put a roof over your goddamn head, and you don’t even care enough to have a hot meal on the table!”

“I do care!”

“Bullshit.” He kicked me even harder as he grumbled, “I’m sick and fucking tired of you and your sorry ass. Pathetic.”

“Please, James... Stop. I didn’t hear...”

“You’re such a lazy piece of shit.” I could feel the heat of his stare burning against my flesh. “You don’t even do anything with yourself. You look like hell—a fucking embarrassment. I don’t know why I waste my time with you. I could do so much better.”

After another swift kick, he leaned down and punched my arms and head several times. The blows hurt, but it was his words that hurt the most.

They burned deep.

Like water sinking into the sand, they burrowed into my memory—waiting to haunt me in my dreams. And haunt they did. They clawed at me, ripping away at the person I used to be, and now, I was just a hollow shell of what I once was. In hopes of forcing back my tears, I swallowed hard and inhaled a quick breath before muttering, “Just give me a minute, and I’ll make something else for dinner.”

“Why bother? You’ll just fuck that up, too.” Furious, he stormed over and grabbed a beer from the fridge, then started out of the kitchen. “I’ll get something at the fucking bar.”

I was still crouched down on the floor when the back door opened and slammed shut.

I didn’t move.

I simply sat there taking slow, deep breaths, hoping it would help ease the throbbing pain in my side. I was overcome with shame and embarrassment and wanted nothing more than to crawl into a dark hole and die.

I never dreamed I would let things get to this point. I’d always promised myself that I would never be with a man who’d hurt me. And yet, there I was, doing exactly what I always promised myself I wouldn’t do.

I was stuck in a life I didn’t want, but I’d done nothing to change things—until that day in the kitchen.

I decided then and there that I was done.

I was going to make a change—even if it cost me everything.

Q

It had been just over twenty years since the day I started prospecting for Satan’s Fury, and everything had changed.


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