A Savage Game of Love Read online

  A Savage Game Of Love

  Ellie R Hunter

  Contents

  Also by Ellie R Hunter

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Ellie R. Hunter

  A Savage Game of Love

  * * *

  © 2021 Ellie R. Hunter

  Self-publishing

  [email protected]

  * * *

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and situations within its pages and places or persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental.

  * * *

  Editing: Rebel & Edit Designs

  Cover: Coffin Print Designs

  Formatting: Affordable Formatting & Premades

  Also by Ellie R Hunter

  Bug

  A Dance of War

  To Die or to Live

  * * *

  The Lost Souls MC Series

  Biker Bait

  Biker Faith

  Biker Bound

  Biker Born

  Biker Saviour

  Biker Taken

  Biker Torn

  Biker Ruined

  Biker Salvation

  Sons of Lost Souls MC: His Father’s Son

  His Father’s Son

  His Selfish Love

  His Ride or Die

  Her Crazy Life

  His One Regret

  His One Choice

  Their Fractured Souls

  His Last Chance

  The Club Betrayal

  His Twisted Heart

  Chapter One

  Keeping the house tidy isn’t a chore for me. Actually, I find it quite therapeutic in a strange way. The laundry, however, is the devil getting the last laugh.

  Shoving the wet clothes into the dryer, I switch it on and sigh. It’ll be done by the time I get home from my shift at the bar tonight, and then I’ll have the absolute joy of folding and putting it away just so I can wear it all again over the next few days, only to repeat the cycle for the rest of my life. I swear, if I was rich, I’d buy a new outfit for every day of my life.

  With the counters wiped down and clear of clutter, I grab the vacuum and head into the living room. I have ten minutes before I’m due to leave, and I’d rather rush to get it all done now than to come home to a mess after being on my feet for eight hours.

  My house is my palace. It’s not much to some, but it means everything to me to have my own space.

  I’m just about to plug in the vacuum when the doorbell rings. Taking a peek out of the front window, I groan when I see two police officers standing on my doorstep. Fifty dollars says my mom’s in the drunk tank again. If I’m right, I’ll treat myself to those five-inch black heels I’ve been dying to order. Or it could be one of my brothers got arrested for fighting again. It’s a day ending in Y, and it’s what they do.

  Either way, it looks like I’m ordering those heels.

  Opening the door a few inches, the two officers step forward and stop when they notice that’s as far as they’re getting.

  “Mrs. Harris?”

  Harris? I haven’t been called Mrs. Harris in a few years. Though I’m known locally by my maiden name, I’m still legally Mrs. Fucking. Harris.

  “Yes. How can I help you?”

  “I’m Officer Granger, and this is Officer Woods. We’re sorry to inform you that your husband has been involved in a car accident. He’s being treated at Oak Hill Hospital.”

  Officer Woods offers, “We can take you to him if you’d like?”

  I’m more shocked that my so-called husband was in Oak Hill than I am that he was in an accident. Liam hasn’t been to town for the last six years. Not since he cut and run to find fame as a rock star. And, of course, the asshole made it big. Why wouldn’t he? He’s Liam fucking Harris.

  Anything he wants, he gets. He’s luckier than a leprechaun with a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow surrounded by four-leaf clovers.

  “No, it’s fine. Thank you, but I won’t be going to the hospital.”

  Liam certainly wouldn’t want me showing up at his bedside.

  Officer Granger frowns. “You’re his next of kin. There are certain decisions that may need to be made.”

  Opening the door wider, I cross my arms over my chest and inquire, “How bad was this accident?”

  “He’s so far the only survivor.”

  Oh my God. For a moment, all clarity vanishes. Clearing my throat, I tell them, “I… I’ll drive there myself.”

  At least that way, I’ll be able to leave without having to rely on someone to drive me back home or waste money I don’t have on a cab.

  The drive to the hospital becomes a blur. I call Rory to let him know I won’t be in to work tonight, and then wonder what the hell I’m going to walk into once I get there. The last time I was in a room with Liam, neither of us had a good word to say about the other. The hatred lingering in the air was palpable.

  At the hospital, a nurse leads me to his room in ICU. As we walk, I wrap my jacket tighter around myself, like it’s going to protect me somehow.

  I think back to the last time I saw him. He was sitting beside his lawyer, and I was seated next to mine opposite of him. I can’t remember the last words I said to him, nor the last ones he said to me. All I know is we were full of hatred for each other, and we weren’t afraid to voice it. But never in my darkest times have I wished him dead; death would be an easy out for him. All I’ve wanted is for him to suffer through life. It sounds harsh, but he made me this way.

  “The officer said so far, he’s the only survivor. What are his chances?” I dare ask as she comes to a stop in front of a small window.

  “I’ll let the doctor explain. I’ll page her and let her know you’re here.”

  Latching onto her arm, I will my hands not to shake.

  “Please, just tell me.”

  “I’m afraid his injuries are quite extensive. He’s suffered multiple fractures to his skull, has a bleed on his brain, and his leg is broken in three different places.”

  Releasing her arm, I offer her an apologetic look before she walks off to page the doctor.

  Turning to the window, I take a deep breath and settle my gaze on Liam. He’s covered in wires and tubes, with beeping machines surrounding his bed. He’s alone, and I’m struck surprised to see his parents aren’t with him. I almost feel bad because I’ve never seen him so vulnerable.

  “Mrs. Harris?”

  Jumping at the soft voice behind me, I spin around and offer a small smile to the doct
or.

  “I’m Dr. May. I’m sure you have questions…”

  “Actually, I shouldn’t be here. I just need to know how I can transfer the next of kin to someone else, like his mom or dad?”

  Dr. May frowns, clearly confused, so I quickly explain, “We were only married for a short time, and it ended badly. We haven’t been together for years. He wouldn’t want me to make such decisions on his behalf. It should be his parents.”

  She opens her mouth as if to say something, but I take a step back, then another. Turning on my heel, I walk to the elevator doors and press the button repeatedly until it arrives. I can’t think straight. It’s classic Liam to put me in this kind of situation.

  Outside, I’ve barely taken a breath of the chilly night air when Callum Young and Ethan Scott walk toward the hospital entrance, both scowling, not bothering to hide their disgust for me. I roll my eyes. I’m the last person who gives a shit what these assholes think.

  “Look, Cal, the dutiful, yet absent wife has appeared,” Ethan sneers.

  “Come to make sure he dies?” Callum grunts, the fear of his friend’s condition clogging his throat.

  Holding my head high, I assert, “I’m only here because the cops showed up at my door. I’ve told the doctor to consult with his parents, so don’t worry. You won’t see me here again.”

  Moving around them, I’m almost to the parking lot when Callum yells out, “Good! Because when he wakes up, he won’t want to see your fucking face.”

  He thinks his words hurt me, but he couldn’t be more wrong. He only sees this from his best friend’s point of view. No one expected me to dig in my heels and not agree to let Liam Harris have everything his way. Instead of admiring my strength to stand up to him, they hate me more for it.

  They assume I want to see Liam, and that I’m only after what he has. If it wasn’t for the court dates concerning the divorce, I would’ve lived the last six years not missing his bright blue eyes one little bit.

  Turning around, I face Liam’s little chump squad. “As usual, it was a pleasure bumping into you both. We should meet up soon, get lunch, have a drink or some shit. It’s been far too long, boys,” I purr.

  Anger ripples over both of their faces. With my small, petty victory, I head for my car, noting I still have seven hours of my shift remaining.

  I don’t wish anyone dead, but Liam Harris is no concern of mine.

  Throwing the car into reverse, I peel out of the lot and head to the bar.

  It looks like I’m not getting those new heels after all.

  Chapter Two

  Six Weeks Later

  My feet are killing me. Falling onto the couch, I gingerly slip my boots off and sigh in relief as the pressure dulls. I should be numb to standing for eight hours a night, but after two years of bartending, the throbbing ache never really goes away.

  Heaving myself up, I take a quick shower and slip into my old sweats with holes in the knees. Seeing as it’s one in the morning, I opt for a bottle of water instead of coffee and take a seat at the kitchen table. Lighting a cigarette, I open my notebook to work out my bills for the month. Friday is payday, and with the extra shifts I’ve worked, I’m hoping I’ll have enough left over to spend on myself. After rent, taxes, utilities, groceries, car payment, and my phone bill, I’ll have a whopping seventy-two dollars.

  Inhaling on the cigarette, I lean back in my chair and exhale the smoke. Maybe if I save my seventy-two dollars, next month I can add to it and purchase something I really want.

  Stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray, I close my notebook and place it back in the middle of the table, along with the pen. Don’t get me wrong, it sucks I can’t spend what I want every month, but I do find satisfaction in being able to cover my bills. It’s more than some people can do. It helps me sleep better at night knowing my lights won’t be shut off because I couldn’t pay the bill, or get kicked out because my rent wasn’t paid. It gives me peace of mind, and I don’t take it for granted.

  Heading up to my bedroom, I pull back the sheets and check that my alarm is set for noon. Once that’s done, I settle into bed and stretch out before turning on the TV. Flicking through the channels for a bit, nothing catches my attention, so I lower the volume and close my eyes. I may have my shit together when it comes to my living expenses, but I still can’t sleep in the dark, alone. In my mind, anyone looking to rob me would think twice after seeing the flickering TV light in the window, assuming I’m still awake. It’s crazy, but it works enough for me to sleep soundly.

  A continuous banging wakes me. I’m so tired, my eyes burn when I try to open them. Glancing at the clock, it’s just after 9 a.m. I haven’t seen nine in the morning in over two years. The banging is persistent, and I sit up, wondering who the hell could be knocking at my door this early. My mom has been over three or four times in the last five years, and that was only to borrow money. My brothers pop in occasionally, but they know to call first.

  Dragging my old sweats on, I grab the hoodie from the end of the bed and make my way downstairs.

  Unlocking the door, I throw it open, ready to scold whoever has woken me, but the rage becomes lodged in my throat when I come face-to-face with Liam.

  I’d assumed he hadn’t died when I didn’t receive a call from the hospital or heard it on the news. What I never would’ve expected was for him to show up on my doorstep, though. I wasn’t even aware he knew where I lived.

  “What are you doing here?” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest against the cold. Winter has certainly hit Oak Hill, and one look at my car shows a light dusting of snow covering the window.

  “I’ve been told you’re my wife.”

  What? He had to be told who I am? I take him in from head to toe. He looks the same, but he’s on crutches, his left leg in a plaster cast. I remember the nurse telling me he’d broken it in three places.

  “Do you not remember me?” I ask, trying to raise my voice above a whisper.

  He’s not the confident, cocky man I know him to be. He stands there, wary, with a pleading look on his face I can’t quite work out.

  “I… I was in a car accident, and I don’t remember much.”

  I’m stumped. I have no idea what to say, so I focus on the snow beginning to fall behind him.

  A bitterly cold wind blows between us, making me shudder. Not sure if it’s because of the cold or the words I’m about to mutter, I step back and open the door wide.

  “Come in.”

  Besides, whatever he’s here to discuss shouldn’t be had on the doorstep. And heaven help me if Mr. Shadwick sees Liam here. If he does, the whole town will know within the hour, and I could do without the curious looks the next time I hit up the grocery store.

  He limps his way inside, and I lead him through to the kitchen, turning up the heat as I pass the thermostat.

  Liam is in my home. I’ve lived here for five years, and while not all of them have been the happiest, I never had to deal with memories of him here. I liked that. This house was mine, and mine alone. Now he’s resting his crutches against the wall behind him and awkwardly trying to sit at the table.

  When his eyes meet mine, I jump into action. Filling the coffee machine, I set out two mugs.

  “Do you still like coffee, or do you not remember?”

  I can’t help the bitter sarcasm oozing off my words, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Or, if he does, he doesn’t say anything.

  “I do.”

  I turn around and face him, only to find he’s staring intently at me, and he doesn’t shy away after being caught. It’s unsettling. His eyes roam the length of me, and I self-consciously wish I had at least run a brush through my hair. Even with his apparent memory loss, I hate to admit, he still looks good.

  “Can I ask why you didn’t come to see me? I was in the hospital for weeks and you never showed. I don’t remember much, but I do know wives normally sit vigil at their husband’s bedside.”

  I inhale deeply and exhale slowly. It’s too da
mn early in the day for this. I regret inviting him inside. I should’ve told him we’d do this another time and slammed the door in his face so I could have time to prepare before dealing with him.

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I struggle to think of where to start. If this were the usual Liam sitting at my table, I’d know how to handle myself. But this vulnerable Liam is almost like having to deal with a child you’ve never met before.

  “I’ve been told what happened between us, but I don’t believe it. It was… unimaginably cruel.”

  My eyes dart to his earnest expression.

  “Who told you about me?” I inquire.

  “My friends, Callum and Ethan, told me some, and my mom filled in the blanks.”

  The coffee machine beeps, letting me know it’s ready. Filling the mugs, I place his in front of him, ignoring how nice he smells. I opt to sit at the other end of the table, putting as much distance between us as I can in the small space and reach for my smokes.

  I’ve barely put the cigarette between my lips when he frowns.

  “What? You don’t smoke anymore?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s bad for you. You should quit.”

  I can’t help but snort. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

  Inhaling deeply, I purposefully blow the smoke into the air and lift my cup. His eyes pinch in the corners, and I have to stop my leg from bouncing in agitation.