Fury: Heaven Hill Generations, #3

By Laramie Briscoe

From a USA Bestselling Author - the next book in a fan favorite series!

Family is number one; whether they are blood related or patched in.

At thirteen-years-old, the bastard son of an asshole who wanted me to fail, I learned that lesson.

Thanks to one man.

Liam Walker raised me, taught me how to be an adult, and loved the hell out of my mother, me, and my sisters. He funneled my anger into productiveness when teenage me lost the love of his life. Because of him, I knew how to love her when she came back. His dedication to me and my sisters was the example I needed when my twins were born.

Tracing his footsteps may not have been my birthright, but him turning over the president patch to me is what I've waited for since I was thirteen. Calm, cool, and collected – that's how he ran The Heaven Hill MC – and it's how I've run it too.

Until now.

Ambushed on our own streets. Fighting an enemy we didn't know we had. Innocent people hurt all because of a misguided sense of entitlement.

The difference between me and Liam? I have anger I've held back, kept my emotions under control for half my life, been the loving man I'm supposed to be, but for this piece of shit who threatened us? I'm about to unleash something he's never seen before.

My fury.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laramie Briscoe
• Release date: Nov 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393947905

Book preview

Prologue One

FROM THE TEXT MESSAGES OF DREW & CHARITY WALKER

D: You’re smokin’ today.

C: How do you even know? You were gone before I woke up this morning. 

D: Yeah I was, long days.

C: Why didn’t you wake me up to say bye?

D: You were snoozing, and you need it. The girls were crazy last week. I found a new gray hair in my beard.

C: LOL! You do not have grey hairs in your beard. BTW, thank you for taking them to school.

D: Anything for you, babe. I just wanted you to enjoy your morning.

C: When do I get to enjoy you? Since you took over for your dad, I feel like I hardly ever see you. 

D: If you look up, across the square, you’ll see a guy leaning against a bike, checking the fuck outta you. That skirt? Isn’t it a little too short for court, baby?

Glancing up, I immediately spot the man of my dreams. Thirty-seven is looking mother-fucking f-i-n-e on my husband. Arms crossed over his chest, I see his wedding ring, the sunshine glinting off of it. Fuck that’s hot. He pushes off his bike, and I’m greeted with the full-height of the man who gave me his last name. My eyes start at the top, from the backward black hat on his head, past the aviators covering those amazing eyes of his. Even though I told him he has no grey hairs in his beard, it’s turning lighter, a weird mix of red and blond, even though he has dark hair on his head. 

Slowly, he walks toward me with the loose-legged swagger of a man who has no cares in the world. I know better. Those eyes behind the sunglasses watch everything. Since he got the president patch that now sits on his cut, he’s become the most attentive person in the world. In part because I know he’s nervous. We all are, but I never feel at risk when he’s around.

Underneath the cut, he wears a white t-shirt that shows off the work he’s done at the gym. The edge rests against what I know is an almost frayed waistband around his jeans. They’re so worn, so comfortable, the only thing holding them up is the black belt looped around his lean frame. 

The worn material kisses his thighs as he makes his way close to me. When he gets within touching distance, he reaches out, wrapping his arms tightly around my neck. I reciprocate by wrapping mine around his waist as he leans down, dropping a kiss on the top of my head. 

You smell good. I inhale deeply. The smell of leather, cigarette smoke, and his cologne is intoxicating. 

You fuckin’ feel good, his deep voice whispers in my ear as he digs his fingers into the back of my head. 

Tilting back, I give him a smile, before I stand on my tiptoes, even in high heels, and press our lips together. The kiss is a slow, sweet fuck. He’s as thorough here, in front of anyone who cares to watch, as he is behind the closed door of our bedroom. My fingers grip the leather of his cut, as I fight to keep upright. His fingers twine through my hair, directing me in the way he likes to do. I can feel the clip give, and I don’t even care when I hear it hit the ground.

Ooops. He pulls back, licking his lips. Kinda messed you up.

I don’t care. You can mess me up anytime, but I do have to get back to the court. We’re on a recess, but I have to report in a few minutes. My voice reeks with regret.

Let me walk you, baby.

He reluctantly lets go of me, bends over to pick up my clip, and then throws his arm over my shoulder. I wrap mine around his waist, together we lean into each other as he walks me to the courthouse. You don’t have to go in. I grin up at him.

His hand rubs the back of my neck in a soothing motion. I would for you, ya know?

I know, but neither one of us wants to get into the trouble that might cause. I pinch his ass with a wink. See you tonight?

He licks those lips of his again, rubbing them together before he smirks.

Yeah, I’m gonna do my best to get home early.

We’ll be waiting on you. Love you, and everything you do for our family.

The pressure he slightly exerts against my neck forces our lips to meet.

Love you, Charity. Wouldn’t have anything to fight for if it wasn’t for you. Be safe, babe.

You too. I walk up the courthouse steps, holding onto his hand until we’re separated enough so that we only hold pinkies.

He’s the first to let go, but he lifts his index and middle finger to his lips, blowing me a kiss, before he finally turns and walks away. Sighing deeply, I remind myself I have a job to do, but really all I want is to have no responsibilities and unlimited time with the number one man in my life.

Prologue Two

Drew

You’ve got that wrinkle between your eyebrows again. Her voice is soft, soothing, and my favorite thing in the world to hear. She’s the one I fall asleep cuddled next to every night and the one I wake up tangled with every morning. Charity Walker is my entire world. Even as you sleep. Her pout can be heard through the drop in her tone.

Opening my eyes, I gaze at the woman whose held my heart for most of my life. She’s worn my ring and had my last name for over the last decade. She and I, we’ve been through a lot, and I know me worrying is the lesser of two evils. Better me worry than you, babe. I smile slightly, shifting so I can take her into my arms. "You’d have us all making lists and then lists of our lists. The whole club would have a bullet journal, and we’d be taking field trips to Hobby Lobby." I tap her nose, grinning as she scowls.

I’ll have you know, my lists and my bullet journal keep this family on track. Maybe your guys would benefit from it - you never know. Some of them might put my sticker game to shame. I’d concede it, ya know?

A loud giggle escapes her lips as I roll over onto my back, pulling her tightly to my chest, relishing the feel of her hands as they caress my stomach, before tightening around my waist. Her leg hitches on mine, and if this were any other morning, I might try to convince her to let me slip not only my finger inside, but my dick, too.

Our time is broken up into eras now. Before the attacks and after the attacks. It’s how everything is referred to. At least by myself and the VP of our club, Dalton.

Before the attacks, I would have fucked her without a second thought.

Now? I fucking overthink everything. Wondering where I may have left a weak spot in our defenses. And even though my dick is hard, fucking my wife isn’t the first thing on my mind.

If you worry - she reaches in, her lips brushing the edges of mine - "I worry. Not about everything like you do - she runs her hands down my bare chest, digging into the flesh slightly with her nails- but about you. You’re not sleeping well, not eating well." Her hands hook around my waist.

Don’t you like that I’m getting cut? I joke.

You’re not getting cut because you’re trying, she argues.

Inhaling, I tip my head down to kiss the top of her head. The thing is, she’s right. I’m down forty pounds, the weight I was in high school, and leaner than I was even then. The past few months have taken a toll on not only the club, but on me too.

I’m doing what I need to, Charity, to keep us all safe.

Closing my eyes again, I block everything out, just trying to concentrate on how it feels to be here, alone with her in our bedroom. Before I know it, she’s straddling my waist. My hands immediately go to her hips, resting as I enjoy this moment.

The smirk across her face gets to me. It’s just on this side of bad girl with a touch of smart ass, and it makes me hard every damn time. What do I have to do to get that worry spot to go away?

The ends of her hair brush against my skin, slightly tickling, as she leans in. Her lips press softly into my whiskered cheek, the material of her thin shirt does nothing to hide the peaked tips pressing tightly against my chest.

For just a few minutes? She trails her lips over to my ear, her teeth lightly tugging at the earring in the lobe.

Fuckin’ hard as a rock, pressing strong and deep into the cradle of her thighs.

A few minutes, she whispers in my ear, before her tongue circles the flesh like the end of a lollipop.

I’m lost as I tilt my head back pressing into the pillow, my eyes squeezed shut as I allow myself this one tiny pleasure. My neck lifts, cranes to the side as I give her more room to work. Encouraging her to take the flesh that’s only hers.

Wanna hear you moan, Drew. She grinds against me, making a noise of pleasure in the back of her throat.

I open my eyes so that they’re slits, a smile ghosting across my lips as my hands move down to palm the cheeks of her ass, pulling her tightly against me.

Ten months. Ten months since the attacks. Since we learned we’re fighting a threat we didn’t even know existed. That long since I’ve enjoyed a morning with my wife. Gonna do more than make me moan if we keep this up.

Don’t even recognize my voice as I admit I’m about to blow my load against the barriers between us. I’m panting, my stomach pumping up and down as I grind a rhythm against her. Pressing her harder against me, I feel the moment my clothed cock meets her clothed clit.

Baby, I groan as she gasps at the touch, a deep hiss of barely controlled pleasure.

Our hands fight with one another, as we reach between us. Hers pull her panties aside, mine pull my boxer-briefs down. There’s a moment, right before we take each other, right before I slip into her wet heat, where our hooded eyes meet.

Drew, I need this. She runs her nails against my stomach, making a mark that won’t go away anytime soon. I’ll wear the marks with pride, looking down and remembering this fall into ecstasy.

Fuck yes, me too, I growl deep in my throat as I press deeply into her.

Her head tilts back, her mouth hanging open as I push home. Feels so good. She digs her knees into the bed, riding me with an abandon I’ve never seen or felt before. We’ve had some wild times and there have been couplings where I’ve pushed her beyond her limits, but nothing like this.

We set a punishing rhythm, the headboard beating against the wall, the frame squeaking. I can feel her tight clit rubbing against the length of my cock with each thrust in, and each pull out. She’s wound as tightly as I am, and I’m not sure we’ll be able to hold on, but I’m also unsure if we can survive the heat between us.

What about Harley and Justice? she moans, when my fingers grip her nipples, twisting.

Don’t even fuckin’ care.

With strength I didn’t know I had, I sit up, pressing my back against the headboard, giving her better leverage. My palm goes behind her, my finger rimming the edge of her back entrance. It’s not something we normally do, but when it’s a little dirty between us, I’ve found it turns her on even more. Ride me hard, I encourage as I slap her ass, gripping the flesh tightly with my fingers.

Right there, Drew. She presses against me, grabbing hold of the headboard, moving so quickly I’m not sure I can keep up. Right there, oh God…

Me too, I call out, growling, groaning, just fucking ready to let go.

From the darkness, a noise rings out. My eyes shift to the left, but nothing is there. Then to the right, nothing there either. My hips are still moving, but Charity isn’t anymore. Her head hangs down against her chest. Charity? Her body lifeless on top of me. Cold fear creates a ripple effect going from my head, down to my feet.

Using my ring finger I lift her chin. Blood pours from a spot on the side of her neck. Baby, oh my God, help me! I scream, not even worried about being naked. Help me!

Drew. There’s a voice coming from really far away. Drew. I hear it again. It’s soft, sweet, and