Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Dante “Loco” Verdone fulfilled his childhood dream of being a cop. Each day came with a new challenge and he relished being in the thick of it all. He came home each night to a woman he loved, cherished, and wanted to spend his life with.
Until tragedy struck changing everything for Dante including his home.
Leaving the city, his job, and life as he knew it, he climbed on his bike heading south. Landing in Dreadnought, North Carolina was supposed to be a pit stop. But deep in the mountains, he found solace in his pain. He found purpose in himself with the Saint’s Outlaws MC.
Thirteen years had passed, but calling her for a favor brought them back together. Hearing her voice awoke something inside Dante. She drove him crazy before, now her casual dismissal of him brought him to his knees.
Some things have changed, like the cop became an outlaw. But one thing remained the same Dante’s desire to spend his life loving her.
Part Two – Loco’s Last
Once a door closes, it shouldn’t be reopened.
That was Dante “Loco” Verdone’s motto. He never looked back, only ahead.
Living by the code of an outlaw was easy. But situations sometimes require giving respect to the thin blue line of the law.
He had someone who had the power and resources he needed. Except to call her meant opening a door he slammed closed.
Juanita Banks had a life she loved. Heartbreak didn’t hold her back. She refused to be crushed by a man, no matter how much he still turned her on.
He called. She answered because she felt she owed him one last marker. Deed done, this time it was Nita who walked away without looking back.
Having her close again, Loco would show the world his crazy before he lost her again. Even if it was the last thing he did, he was going to have Nita back
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Loco
I woke up to the sound of breathing that wasn’t mine, soft and steady, like the city finally exhaled while it slept. For a second I forgot where I was, then my arm tingles and I realized it’s pinned under Char’s head. She was warm. Always warm. My ceiling fan hummed overhead, lazy blades pushing cool air that felt like a gentle kiss to my skin. The gray light of early morning slipped through the blinds, illuminating her shoulder, the curve of her cheek, and the silk of her bonnet against my forearm.
I didn’t move. I learned the hard way that waking her before she was ready earned me a look that could stop traffic. Instead, I lay there and catalog the small things. The faint vanilla-citrus scent of her lotion. The way her fingers curled into my T-shirt like she feared I might slip off without her permission. The quiet city outside—sirens far enough away to be background noise, a bus sighing at the corner, someone yelling who knows what to who knows who. This was my favorite time of day. Before the badge. Before the radio. Before the version of me that had to put on armor and pretend I was not human.
Char stirred, nose brushing my bicep. “Your staring again,” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
“Wasn’t staring,” I muttered quietly. “Just appreciating the view.”
She hummed, not convinced. Her eyes cracked open, dark and warm, and she smiled like she knew exactly what she did to me. “What time is it?”
“Too early.” I replied because anytime I had to get out of this bed is too early for me if she was in my arms.
It was new this thing between us. But it felt good, right in a way I couldn’t explain.
She sighed, “For you or for the world?”
“Both.” I shifted carefully, easing my arm out from under her head. She made a small protest sound but didn’t wake fully. I leaned over and kiss her forehead, then her temple. “I’ve gotta get ready. Go back to sleep, baby.”
She reached for me, fingers catching my wrist. “You workin’ days or nights the rest of the week?”
“Days. Thank God.”
She smiled wider at that. “Then you can make breakfast.”
I laughed. “You’re bold this early in the morning.”
“You love it.” She rolled onto her back, stretching like a cat, shirt riding up to show a strip of smooth brown skin. She catches me looking and smirked. “Told you. Staring.”
“Can’t help it,” I admitted. “You live here. It’s in the lease, guess you missed that part.”
“I do not live here,” she stated automatically, the way she always did.
“You’re here five nights a week.” I gave her the damn truth. It was fast sure. Maybe too fast for her to be staying like this, but we didn’t meet under circumstances that were the usual in the first place. Deciding to lighten the mood because we aren’t ready for some deep conversation about where we sleep, I reverted back to something easier, her beauty. “You stay here. It’s in the agreement, I have to give props to the view, baby.”
“Temporary residency,” she explained. “With benefits. When the renewal comes we can see if there needs to be a renegotiation.”
“Generous benefits for both sides,” I stated, leaning down to kiss her properly this time. She tasted like sleep and toothpaste from last night, and something sweet I could never quite name. She kissed me back, slow and lazy, one hand sliding up my chest.
We could stay like this. The thought hit me hard and sudden. We could call in sick. Order breakfast. Let the city handle itself for a few hours. But my phone buzzed on the nightstand, like it knew exactly what I’m thinking.
“Killjoy,” Char muttered.
“Duty calls,” I stated on a sigh, reaching for it. A quick glance—nothing urgent, just a reminder from my partner about a meeting. I dropped the phone back down. “Rain check for breakfast?”
She nodded, then propped herself up on one elbow. “Coffee?”
“You read my mind.” I twisted my legs out of bed, the hardwood cool under my feet. The apartment was small but it’s mine—brick walls, big windows, a kitchen that barely fit two people, really only worked if one of them knew how to move out of the way. I pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt, then made my way to the coffee maker.
Char padded in behind me a minute later, wrapped in my hoodie like it belonged to her. It did. Everything did, eventually.
She leaned against the counter while I set up the machine. “You sleep okay?”
“Like a rock,” I replied. “You?” I wondered if this was leading her backwards. The early days, nightmares were frequent. Given how we met, what she endured, yeah, I found myself thankful for any night she could sleep without a bad dream.