Felon: Steel Saints MC, #3

By Paula Cox

Felon is book 3 and the finale of the Steel Saints MC trilogy!

F**K THE RULES. I TAKE WHAT I WANT. AND I WANT HER.

She didn't ask for me to come crashing into her life.
But when I needed a place to store some stolen jewels, that's exactly what I did.

Now, if she wants to stay alive, she'll have to do as I say.
Today.
Tonight.
Forever.

But once I have her in my grasp, I realize…
I may have bitten off more than I can chew.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBook Publishing World
• Release date: Oct 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386460558

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http://dl.bookfunnel.com/96l98crlif

FELON: Steel Saints MC (Book 3)

By Paula Cox

F**K THE RULES. I TAKE WHAT I WANT. AND I WANT HER.

SHE DIDN’T ASK FOR me to come crashing into her life.

But when I needed a place to store some stolen jewels, that’s exactly what I did.

Now, if she wants to stay alive, she’ll have to do as I say.

Today.

Tonight.

Forever.

But once I have her in my grasp, I realize...

I may have bitten off more than I can chew.

CHAPTER 1

It’s been four days since the whole I love you bomb. You’d think by now that I’d be totally okay with it, or at least numb. But just the memory of Alana looking into my eyes as she said it with such certainty makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. I haven’t thought of anything yet, even with all the time I’ve been putting in at the gym.

Ricky did his job. Within a day of me being released from the hospital, he managed to land me a doctor who couldn’t give a shit about x-rays and test results. He didn’t even bother seeing me in his office. My boys delivered the money and came back with a filled out form my coach could submit to the boxing organization that oversees injury reports. Mr. Murphy was back in action and ready to fight.

Still, I was being cautious. Despite protests from my trainers who aren’t totally in the loop about my condition, I stood my ground and committed to taking no hits before the match. I was on a strict cardio, strength, and shadow boxing routine for the rest of the week—until my final match up before the promotion. I just had to get through it with a win under my belt. Nothing fancy. Not even a knockout. Just a W.

I jump on the treadmill nearest the window. It’s part of the publicity plan my team has had me go after. After my last fight made national news, camera crews and photographers have been scooping my stories up like crazy. They followed me out of the hospital, peppering me with questions, while Alana held firmly onto my arm. I even caught them over at my apartment complex the other night, asking residents if they knew me.

Switching on the television stationed on the treadmill, I manage to catch the end of a boxing program on Sportscast Live. It’s just a replay of that old footage they got a few days ago. There’s Alana in her sweatpants and tank top. She borrowed a pair of my sunglasses when she was told the press were outside. After hearing that Amy and her attacks on Alana were the reason why she had been so hesitant around me those few days before the match, I wasn’t exactly thrilled with putting her out there like a show pony. But she looked damn fine marching out by my side.

I turn the program off, focusing on my run. Five miles to go until I can get off this damn thing. Working out without actually getting my hands messy is incredibly boring. I had nothing to do but to move my legs and think. Move and think. Move and think. It was just more time to remember Alana’s I love you and Amy’s kiss in the ring. It was more time to think about Steel Saints and the way the guys had been so passively around me the last few days. It’s as if they thought my head injuries were contagious.

Speak of the devil—my phone vibrates, rattling the plastic frame of the treadmill. The blasting rock music in my headphones turns off as I press the answer button on the Bluetooth earpiece. What’s going on, Jason? Any word on that deal out on the strip? Did the hotel bite? That would be the only reason why my second would be calling me when he knew I was working out tonight. My boys are under a strict order that unless it is a business issue or an emergency attack, I wasn’t to be bothered. Jason could take over for me on all things that didn’t need my attention.

No, no, Jason says heavily, sounding beyond exhausted. It’s something else... Look. The leadership and their seconds want to hold a meeting tonight. Could you get away for an hour or two to come over to headquarters?

What the hell would they want from me? My stomach turns to the beat of my feet hitting the track of the treadmill. Even by the dry tone of Jason’s voice, I could tell that whatever they needed to say to me wasn’t going to exactly be sunshine and rainbows. Something tells me that this has less to do with everyday business and more to do with the boys looking to put in a power grab against my loyal guys.

I test the waters with Jason, knowing that he isn’t exactly willing to give up the whole plot before the meeting itself. Does this have anything to do with me taking patches from Tyler, Mateo, and Rodney the other day? Because if it is, I am not going back on that. Those little bastards are fucking poison, and you all know it.

My blood pressure rises slowly as I think back to the first time I demoted the three for assaulting Alana in the parking lot of my restaurant. I warned them not to mess with me, but instead, they decided to pull a stunt where they changed the schedule of the collection runs so that the wrong men went out to the wrong places and came back empty handed. We lost over $12k with that stupid fucking trick, and I was more than happy to finally get them out of the group for once and for all.

No... Jason answers slowly. "It’s not about them, Liam. It’s about some information that we got this afternoon. We think you should