Lucky Clover (Royal Bastards MC – Belfast Northern Ireland #3) Read Online Dani Rene

Categories Genre: Biker, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Royal Bastards MC - Belfast Northern Ireland Series by Dani Rene
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
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The acoustics in this space are incredible. The piano echoes against the bare walls as if we’re sitting in a concert hall and I’m listenin’ to an award-winnin’ pianist. Her body moves while her fingers do, followin’ the melody she plays. There’s passion in her movements as she gets lost inside her mind, in her soul, and she once more comes to the end. She stills, and I take a deep breath.

“Are you going to watch me all day?” she finally quips as the last few notes dance over the space between us, as if they’re attemptin’ ta drag me closer, then filter into nothin’.

“Maybe,” I tell her as she begins another classic melody, which I recognise as Beethoven.

I push off the frame and saunter towards her, but she doesn’t offer me her green eyes. She doesn’t look at me. Instead, she focuses on the ebony and ivory keys beneath her delicate fingers. Then I notice the tears wettin’ her cheeks, and my fingers itch to wipe them from her pretty face.

So breathtakingly beautiful.

Such a broken disaster.

And there’s no doubt, she’s mine.

She’s my beautiful disaster and I want nothin’ more than to keep her.

I’m in awe when I stop behind her, watching as her hands fly over the keys, back and forth, again and again. They sweep me away, makin’ sure I’m focused on her and the song. I’m feckin’ losin’ my mind. Monster is goin’ta tell me I’m fallin’, but that’s all shite. Ye don’t find love in places like this. And ye certainly don’t fall in love with someone ye don’t truly know.

I’ve never been a believer of those emotions. I’ve watched Ma think she’s in love, and she’s only been hurt. Clover has as well. There’s never a solid foundation to feelin’s. They’re only there ta feck ye up. And when you’re lyin’ on the ground, beggin’ fer mercy, ye realise what a numpty ye were. Feckin’ eejit.

I didn’t think I’d ever be one of those, but if there ever was a wee lass who could make me fall, perhaps it’s her. Even though she’s so feckin’ shattered, broken beyond what I’ve ever seen, there’s a strength ta her. One that’s shinin’ through right now as she plays one final note, and she stops.

Clover drops her hands to her lap and pushes away from the piano. I’m not musical. I can’t play for shite, but listenin’ to her makes me want to sit beside her. She turns to me, and I notice the tears that make the green shine brighter. This is feckin’ ridiculous because I’ve never wanted a woman more than I do right now. Not only to fuck her, but just to hold her, to kiss her, to learn who she is deep inside her tormented pieces.

To maybe even put her back together.

SEVEN

CLOVER

My mind is still on last night. How he spoke to me, wanting to know more about who I am, who I was. I didn’t want to tell him. And if I’m completely honest, I know why. It’s because I didn’t want to scare him off. He’s nothing like Rogan. Even though he’s a biker, just like the men Rogan was friends with, he’s nothing like them. He doesn’t exude violence. He carries affection, wielding it like a weapon. And he’s shielded me in more ways than I care to admit.

I didn’t expect it, and I didn’t think it would be possible for me to feel at ease when I’m alone with a man of his stature. But something about Sully is calming. It’s a strange thing to consider if you see the bulk of him. Long hair and a beard, with ink on every available inch of skin. His hands are strong, but I know they’ve never been lifted toward a woman.

That’s what makes him different.

The fact that he came up to my door to see if I was okay speaks volumes for the type of man he is. One that will keep me safe rather than put me in danger. But still, after hours of us talking, I can’t stop the fear. I am afraid of my past.

Rogan wasn’t a violent person, not that I could tell anyway. He was friends with bikers, but he never got too involved in that world. And to me, he was sweet, caring, and loving, but slowly as the years went by, he became callous, crueler, and angrier at everyone. And then at me. I was the punching bag for everything that went wrong in his life, and he enjoyed making sure I never forgot it.

Time has passed, but I know it will never leave me completely. I’m haunted, and I always will be. Even though I came here, to this place where I’ve found solace, I think there’s still a long road ahead of me.


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