Road to Freedom Read online

  2018 Trixie Publishing, Inc.

  Copyright © 2018 by Piper Davenport

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States

  Road to Freedom is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Art

  Jackson Jackson

  Trixie Publishing, Inc.

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Praise

  Acknowledgements

  Back Blurb

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Road to Peace

  Meet Dalton

  Sneak Peek

  About Piper

  Get ready to fall head over heels! Another page turner of alpha brilliance from Davenport. I fell in love with every single page and spent the last few wishing the book would never end! ~ Harper Sloan, NY Times & USA Today Bestselling Author

  The Dogs of Fire series is sinfully hot, creatively captivating and each book has left me anxious for more. Piper Davenport paints the most beautiful pictures of love with her words. I'm in awe. Felicia Lynn, Contemporary Romance Author

  Piper Davenport can write one hell of a sexy biker! I can’t get enough of the Dogs of Fire MC series ~ Geri Glenn, Author of the Kings of Korruption MC Series

  All it took was one page and I was immediately hooked on Piper Davenport’s writing. Her books contain 100% Alpha and the perfect amount of angst to keep me reading until the wee hours of the morning. I absolutely love each and every one of her fabulous stories. ~ Anna Brooks – Contemporary Romance Author

  I was swooning from the moment that badass biker stepped on the page! ~ Sybil Bartel, Author of the Uncompromising Series

  This is one series I will most definitely be reading!! Great job Ms. Davenport!! I am in love!! ~ Tabitha, Amazeballs Book Addicts

  Liz:

  Thanks again. Your insight is always so spot on!

  Harley:

  Thanks for all the read-throughs! I love taking this journey with you! Can’t wait to rule the world!

  Jack:

  What can I say? You’re perfection on legs. I love you more than life.

  Remington

  We'd had a deal. One night only.

  He broke that deal when he called the next day.

  For two years, I've worked to forget the taste of his skin, but then he shows up at a time I need him the most...and wants more than I'm able to give.

  Finch

  One night with her wasn't enough, but I gave her space and let her go.

  Now she's in trouble, and I'm no longer willing to watch her walk away.

  I have one chance to slay the dragons of her past.

  The problem is, I'm no one's knight in shining armor.

  For Harper Sloan

  You know why.

  Remington

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

  “There’s a man trying to break into my apartment,” I whispered as I hid in my bedroom closet. “His name is Vitaly Popov and I have a restraining order against him.”

  My phone buzzed, and I checked the screen. I had been texting back and forth with my friend, Grace Lundy, when Vitaly showed up at my door. Sending a quick note back that I was hiding, I put the phone back to my ear and listened for instructions.

  Another bang against my door made me jump and I let out a quiet squeak.

  “Ma’am?”

  “I’m here,” I whispered.

  Today could only have been classified as a shitty day. Actually the past four days, really. The shittiest. Grace and I had both been hired as paid interns for the Portland Ballet Conservatory, and it gave us an amazing opportunity to dance with some of the best dancers in the world, including Vitaly Popov who had been visiting from Russia.

  At least, I thought it was an amazing opportunity.

  However, Vitaly had cornered me in the practice room, and I hadn’t been fast enough to escape, so I’d tried to talk my way out.

  Unsuccessfully.

  He’d slammed me against the mirror, the barre digging into my back, and forced his mouth on mine. I’d hit, bit, clawed at him with no luck, until I was finally able to shift and get a knee in his dick. But he still had enough of a grip on me to smash my face against the mirror, drawing blood as I bit through my lip.

  Grace had walked in just as he ripped my leotard and she helped me get away from him. I’d immediately reported the attack to the director of our ballet conservatory, and she dealt with the matter by firing me. Vitaly was a star, and I was a girl from a small town in Georgia. I was nobody. At least, as far as Director Walsh was concerned. If she actually knew who my family was, she’d be so far up my ass she wouldn’t see daylight, but I’d used my grandmother’s maiden name in all my paperwork, so she wouldn’t know.

  Grace had left PBC in solidarity with me, and I’d headed to the police station to file a report, then home to nurse my wounds.

  Apparently, Vitaly had been served with the restraining order, because he yelled nasty things to me through the door in Russian. I knew they were nasty because I dated a Russian guy for about a minute, and the first words he taught me were the bad ones. How Vitaly knew where I lived was a mystery, but that made this situation even scarier.

  “Okay, stay calm. What’s your address?”

  I swallowed, then whispered, “4200 Alberta, unit twelve.”

  “Where are you? Are you safe?”

  “I’m in my closet,” I whispered. “He’s knocking on the front door and I’m scared he’s going to break it down. Oh, God, please hurry!”

  “Alright, ma’am, I’ve dispatched police officers to your address. Are you hurt?”

  “No. No, I’m fine.” Tears streamed down my face. “Just scared.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Remi...ah, Remington Charles.”

  “Cool name.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Okay, Remi, stay calm, officers are three minutes out.”

  “He’s still banging,” I squeaked.

  “Okay, honey, the police are close now. Take a deep breath and try to calm down.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut as Vitaly continued to pound on my front door. In the distance, I heard the muffled sound of sirens and the banging stopped. “I hear the sirens.”

  “Okay, hon, I’ll stay on the line with you until the officers arrive.”

  “Thank you.” I bit my lip. “The banging’s stopped. I think he’s gone.”

  “Officers are walking up your stairs. Can you open the door for them?”

  “Um, sure,” I said, and hauled my butt off the floor, easing out of my closet and heading to my front
door. I checked the peephole and saw two men in uniforms, so I unlocked the door and pulled it open. “They’re here.”

  “Okay, Remi. They will take it from here.”

  “Thank you.”

  I hung up and slid my phone into my pocket.

  “Ma’am? Do you need me to call for an ambulance?”

  “What?” I frowned, then remembered the bruises on my face. “Oh. No, these are from the other day. I reported them when I asked for the restraining order.”

  “Okay. Can you describe the man?”

  “I have a photo,” I said, and pulled up Vitaly’s picture from PBC. “I also have the restraining order here. Let me get it.” The paperwork was right by the front door, so I grabbed it and handed it to the officer. Just as I was taking the form back, Grace came running up the stairs, followed by her badass biker boyfriend, Flea. “Remi? Are you okay?”

  “Don’t move,” the cop ordered.

  Flea’s hand went to his waist and I realized pretty quickly he was strapped.

  “It’s okay, they’re friends,” I rushed to say. All I needed was a shoot-out on my doorstep. “Thank you for getting here so quickly.”

  Grace had told me in passing that she was taking care of her grandmother who’d broken her leg, but we hadn’t gotten much further into our personal lives. She was always pretty focused on the task in front of her and I was busy trying to keep up, so I was kind of surprised she was here.

  Grace pushed past the officer, despite Flea’s growl of warning, pulling me in for a hug. “Where’s Vitaly?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I have everything I need,” the officer said. “We’ll send a BOLO out for your assailant. We can put a car out front for a few hours—”

  “No, she’s going to pack a bag and come with us,” Grace said.

  “It’s fine,” I argued. “I don’t think he’s going to come back.”

  “Not really up for discussion,” Grace bossed. “Pack a bag...enough for a few days. You’re coming with us.”

  “Grace—”

  “Don’t argue with her,” Flea said. “It’s not worth the wasted breath.”

  Grace smiled. “What he said.”

  “Ma’am, what do you want to do?” the officer asked.

  “I’ll go with my friends,” I said.

  “Okay, my partner’s searching the vicinity for Mr. Popov. We’ll head out once you’re gone.”

  “Thank you,” I said, and went about packing a bag.

  * * *

  Finch

  “No sign,” Hatch said as I joined him back at the front of the building.

  “Me neither,” I said, and shook my head. “The message you gave him was ignored, apparently.”

  When Grace’s friend had been attacked by Vitaly a few days ago, Hatch had said he roughed him up a bit and warned him to stay away. Almost broke his nose, definitely bruised it, but the asshole didn’t listen.

  “Little fucker. He’s gonna regret that.”

  Hatch Wallace was the Sergeant at Arms for our motorcycle club, Dogs of Fire. I was a member and typically worked closely with Mack, our club’s legal counsel, but tonight, I was at Hatch’s place when my sister, Grace, freaked. And when Grace freaks, we all pay attention.

  “Let’s check on Gracie’s friend,” Hatch said, and I followed him up the stairs.

  We passed a couple of beat cops and one of them turned and cocked his head. “Merrick Lundy, is that you?”

  Hatch stalled as I faced the officer. “Who’s asking?”

  “Mike Watts.”

  I grinned. Mike had come up in the academy with my dad, but I hadn’t seen him in years. It was impressive he even recognized me. “Hey, Mike. It’s been a while.”

  Hatch’s protective stance relaxed, and he continued up the stairs.

  “What are you doing these days?” Mike asked.

  “Law.”

  “Of course you are. Shit, you could always bring an argument.”

  I chuckled. “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  “Well, good for you,” he said. “You and your sister were always good kids. Sad about your mom.”

  My mom had killed herself ten years ago after taking Grace hostage, and it had been a nightmare. Particularly for my sister.

  I gave him a chin lift. “Thanks.”

  “Gotta get back to it. Tell your dad I said ‘hey’ and take care of yourself.”

  “You too, man.” I gave him a chin lift and headed up the rest of the stairs.

  Where I froze.

  Remington Fucking Charles.

  Goddammit.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she snapped.

  Apparently, she remembered me, too. Petite, blonde, and ample with both tits and ass, she was even prettier than she had been two years ago.

  I smiled. “It would seem I’m saving you.”

  “You know my brother?” Grace asked.

  “Merrick’s your brother?” Remi asked, a look of horror crossing her face.

  “Finch,” I corrected.

  Her head snapped to me. “What?”

  “Finch. Not Merrick.”

  “Club name,” Grace provided.

  “You’re part of the club?” Remi asked.

  “Yeah, babe.”

  “Don’t call me babe,” she ground out. “Since when?”

  “Recruit since I was eighteen.”

  I’d only recently patched-in, but I’d asked to be a recruit the second I’d turned eighteen. Unlike many of my brothers, I had a tight family unit, but my father was a police detective, so I’d had to wade into the pool of bikers with caution. For both them and me.

  “Wait.” She waved a finger in a circular motion toward me. “You weren’t wearing your fancy vest last time I saw you.”

  “I was dressed for court last time I saw you.”

  “Court?”

  I nodded. “I was defending a case.”

  “You’re a lawyer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Of course you are,” she lamented, dropping her head back. “What the fuck did I do, God? What? Huh? Is this my punishment? Okay, message received. I will never fuck some cute guy I just met in a bar ever again.”

  My sister’s face was bright red as she tried to hold back her laughter, and I watched Remi in all her dramatic glory. Fuck me, this woman was still just as stunning as I remember.

  Hatch and Flea were doing their best to pretend they weren’t listening, but Hatch gave me a fatherly eyebrow lift and I knew he’d expect some sort of explanation later.

  He wouldn’t get one.

  Well, he wouldn’t get much of one. What Hatch really wanted to know, was whether or not I respected her before, during, and after I fucked her. And I did.

  The particulars weren’t important...not to him anyway.

  I studied the cuts and bruises on Remington’s face and rage threatened to burst out of me. “You’re the one Vitaly attacked?” I asked.

  “How did you know about that?” Remi demanded.

  “He was there,” Grace said.

  “What?” she squeaked. “How did I miss that?”

  “He dropped Flea off...he didn’t know who you were.”

  “God!” Her button nose scrunched up in despair. “Ain’t that all a glorious cherry on top of my shit sundae.”

  God damn, her southern accent still made my dick hard.

  “I hate to break up this reunion,” Flea said. “But we should probably get you both back to your Grams’.”

  Grace nodded. “Yes. That would be good.”

  “You’re still at your grandmother’s?” Remi asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t want to intrude, Grace. I can go to a hotel.”

  “You’re not going to a hotel,” I said. The thought of her at some dive motel, alone and exposed to god knows what made my skin itch.

  “You don’t really have a say in it,” she countered.

  “If Vitaly found you here, what would s
top him from finding you at some shitty motel?”

  “What makes you think it’d be a shitty motel?”

  “Even if it was the fuckin’ Ritz, he could track you down and then what would you do? You’d have no way of escape,” I said. “Taking you back to my place.”

  She turned her scowl to me. “Like hell you are.”

  “It’s either my grandmother’s or my brother’s,” Grace said.

  “You can both come back to my place,” Flea countered.

  I shot him a look of warning and I know he understood it, because he grinned.

  Fucker.

  “Can you stay with Grams, Merr?” Grace asked.

  Our grandmother had surgery on her broken leg a little while ago, so we were all taking turns staying with her, so she didn’t try to overdo anything.

  “Flick’s still there,” Flea said.

  I scowled at Flea. I didn’t want him inserting himself into a situation that was between me and Remington, but I tried to soften my expression when I glanced back at her. Her chin was up in a challenging position and she couldn’t have been more beautiful. I focused back on my sister. “If Flick needs to leave, I can stay with Grams.”

  She smiled, standing on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “Best brother ever.”

  “Let’s go, baby,” Flea said to Grace, and grabbed Remi’s bag.

  “Give me a sec, yeah?” I asked, and Flea nodded, ushering Grace down the stairs, while Hatch followed.

  I cut off Remi’s escape and studied her. “How bad did he hurt you, Rem?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Not what I asked.”

  “Merrick—Big Bird—Tweety—whatever you call yourself these days...”

  “Finch,” I provided.

  “Finch. I’m fine. I just want to forget this day ever happened.”

  “Did you get those cuts looked at?”

  “Yes, but they’re superficial. I have a few bruises, but I’ve been icing. I’ve had worse injuries dancing.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “Can I go now?”

  “Not yet.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Merrick, I’m good. But if you don’t step aside, I’m going to get in my car and drive to a hotel. This is ridiculous.”

  “Don’t do that, Remington,” I said. “Grace was worried enough to drag us all down here, so I’m getting the impression you’re not being honest about the severity of the situation. You going to a hotel isn’t going to happen.”