Cold (Book 3): Inferno Hunters MC, #3

By Heather West

This is book 3 and the finale of the Inferno Hunters MC series!

My heart is cold, but my bed is warm.

I stopped believing in love when my enemies murdered my fiancée in cold blood.

She died in my arms, and took my heart with her.

Ellie has sworn off men forever.

Suffering hit after hit from your husband's fists will do that to a woman.

All she has left worth caring about is her innocent baby daughter.

We're perfectly wrong for each other.

But that won't stop me from making her mine.

Taking her to bed might be a horrible mistake.

There are feelings buried deep inside us that were never meant to see the light of day.

But the lust is too strong to be denied.

I HAVE to have her.

And I won't rest until it's done.

But the abusive demon that Ellie escaped isn't giving up that easily.

He's coming to drag her and her baby girl back to their living nightmare.

I've got just four little words to say to him:

Over. My. Dead. Body.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sopris Page Press
• Release date: Sep 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393824244

Book preview

Cold: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Inferno Hunters MC) (Book 3)

By Heather West

My heart is cold, but my bed is warm.

I STOPPED BELIEVING in love when my enemies murdered my fiancée in cold blood.

She died in my arms, and took my heart with her.

Ellie has sworn off men forever.

Suffering hit after hit from your husband’s fists will do that to a woman.

All she has left worth caring about is her innocent baby daughter.

We’re perfectly wrong for each other.

But that won’t stop me from making her mine.

Taking her to bed might be a horrible mistake.

There are feelings buried deep inside us that were never meant to see the light of day.

But the lust is too strong to be denied.

I HAVE to have her.

And I won’t rest until it’s done.

But the abusive demon that Ellie escaped isn’t giving up that easily.

He’s coming to drag her and her baby girl back to their living nightmare.

I’ve got just four little words to say to him:

Over. My. Dead. Body.

Chapter 1

I ’m here to file a restraining order against my ex-husband.

The cop behind the desk looked at me with an expression severely lacking in sympathy. In fact, if he had said, You, too? I wouldn’t have been surprised. Okay, well, it’s not as easy as they say it is on TV, he informed me, sounding as though he were reading from a script.

I’m sure it isn’t, I said. Still, I want to file one. It took everything in me to stand there and say that. Every good girl instinct in me said to stand down, let the officer do his job, believe what he says, go along with him. I’d been raised that way. Listen to them, trust them, obey them. In most cases, that was a fine attitude to have. Not in this one. I had to stand strong, though my knees shook.

At least he didn’t roll his eyes. Okay. Have a seat, and somebody will call you.

Um...don’t you want to know my name?

He scowled. I did everything in my power to stay calm, but the panic in my chest started to swell.

Sir, I’m sorry to take up your time, and I realize there’s a lot of violent crime out there, but this is important to me. My husband laid hands on me two weeks ago, stalked me via phone and text message since then, and last night tried to attack me as I left my place of employment. I need a restraining order to protect myself, and hopefully my little girl. I need your help. I said it with all the dignity I could muster, and it seemed to get through to the sour old desk cop.

He frowned with at least a little sympathy, then did a little typing on his keyboard. All right. What’s your ex-husband’s name? He glanced at me, waiting.

I took a deep, shaky breath. Connor Baker.

His eyes widened. I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

IT ONLY TOOK THREE hours, but I finally filed it.

Mom sat across from me at her kitchen table, worry creasing her forehead. They didn’t want to believe you?

Isn’t it funny? I mean, I understand it isn’t easy to hear that somebody you know and respect isn’t everything they seem to be. I took a sip of my coffee, remembering the disbelief on the faces around me. But that doesn’t make the accusation any less true. You would think a bunch of cops would know what goes on in private life, behind closed doors. That they would have seen it all, that nothing could surprise them anymore.

I took yet another deep breath—what felt like the millionth that day—and tried to let the simplicity and neatness of my mother’s kitchen calm me. There was something about a clean, sparkling kitchen that always soothed my soul. Even at its cleanest, my kitchen at the apartment would never really look nice thanks to its age and rundown condition.

What did they say when they first heard his name? Mom asked.

They didn’t believe it. One of them even laughed a little before he could stop himself. It made me feel like such a fool, like a joke. Another one, I think he was a sergeant or something, he made it sound like I was just a pissed off ex-wife looking for revenge. Asking me if I had any witnesses to the alleged attempted attack last night. As though I need witnesses.

Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.

They’ll never understand how it feels. The courage it takes to ask for help in the first place, and to have them make light of it.

I’m sure they didn’t mean to.

I know they didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t. I wish they knew how it felt, I really do. They might be a little more compassionate.

It was a shame Parker couldn’t have gone with you, Mom murmured.

Mom...

I mean it. What? Why the attitude?

You’re trying to say it would have been better if he weren’t an outlaw who’s afraid to go near a police station. I get it.

I didn’t mean that. Of course she did. You’re the one putting words in my mouth.

You don’t hear your tone sometimes, I argued. You don’t know how you sound.

Fine. Make me the bad guy because you need a bad guy right now. She got up and turned away from me, making a big deal about scrubbing the sink, though it was obvious she’d already scrubbed it.

I sighed, giving up. She had a way of making me do that, giving up though I knew I was in the right. It wasn’t worth fighting over. I’m sorry, I said, standing behind her. I didn’t mean to lash out at you. You’re the one person I shouldn’t be lashing out at.

What about your boyfriend? You shouldn’t be lashing out at him either.

Give me strength with this woman. He isn’t my boyfriend, Mom, and you know it.

He seemed that way at the apartment.

Mom, why are you doing this? I wanted to throw something. Maybe one of her precious porcelain teapots, which she’d collected since I was little. That might get through to her, or it might at least let me vent some of the extreme aggravation she made me feel.

She shut off the water, turning to me with red-rimmed eyes. Wait until Isabella gets a little older. Wait until you know how it feels to watch your daughter make poor decision after poor decision. See how that makes you act. She ran the back of her hand over her eyes.

Poor decisions. I felt the way I had when I faced down the cop at the station. When would I be able to relax and stop playing on defense all the time? I hate that you’re calling it that. The last time I checked, you wanted me to marry Connor. You were insane with excitement over it. You wanted me taken care of. You wanted me married to a man like him, who had such great prospects. Right?

I didn’t know...

No, you didn’t, but you sure commended my good choice back then. Didn’t you?

Yes, I did. Are you saying it’s my fault?

No. I’m saying it’s easy to sit back, years later, and say it was a poor decision. I hope you’re not saying it was a poor decision to leave him.

God, no.

I nodded. "Good. Because it wasn’t, and I know it wasn’t. I made a strong decision for the first time in my life. I’m not paying for marrying him right now—all this struggle, working like a dog just to make ends meet. I’m paying