From The Ruins by Janine Infante Bosco
FROM THE RUINS
(A Satan's Knights Novel)
by Janine Infante Bosco
Publication Date: September 26, 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense
Are you ready to get ruined with Pipe and Layla?
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¸.•´✶FROM THE RUINS¸.•´✶
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.•´✶#EXCERPT¸.•´✶
Excerpt From The Ruins © Copyright 2017 All Rights Reserved by Janine Infante Bosco.
Stalking
down the wooden steps, I cross my lawn to hers and prepare myself for
another argument. Deciding I should’ve dragged my ass back to bed and
damned the world to hell, I pound my fist against her front door.
Let that punk kid give me lip.
Or better yet, let her husband get in my face.
I’ll welcome them to the neighborhood.
The door swings open and my gaze travels downward to the pipsqueak staring up at me like I’m the big bad wolf.
Great.
“Uh, hey, kid,” I start, running my fingers through my hair as a pair of big brown eyes level me.
“You’re the man from last night,” she says, shaking her little finger at me. “The man on the lawn who broke my mom’s car.”
“I didn’t break your mom’s car,” I grind out.
“But Tommy said—”
“Look, kid is
your mom or dad home?” I ask, cutting her off, not really looking to go
head to head with some little half pint. Huffing, she crosses her arms
against her chest and rolls her eyes dramatically.
“We
don’t live with daddy anymore. He and mommy are divorced,” she reveals,
uncrossing her tiny arms as she plants her hands on her hips and angles
her head. “Dad is living in our old house which sucks. Shit, don’t tell
my mom I said sucks. She gets all pissy when I curse but it’s not
really a curse right? I mean you should hear some of the things that
come out of my mom’s mouth.”
Jesus, this kid.
Rubbing
my temples, I look past her hoping to find her mother but the mud
wrestler ain’t nowhere in sight and the kid continues to ramble on,
revealing all her mama’s secrets.
“Tommy
says we’re here because mom can’t afford a house in the city,” she
adds. “But, I think it’s also because mommy hates daddy and wants to be
far away from him.” Her lips straighten into a thin line as she glances
down at the floor seeming to be in deep thought. “That sucks too,” she
mutters with a frown.
Dropping
my hands from my face, I shove one into my pocket and stare at her. Not
sure what to say, not really understanding why the fuck I care, I press
my finger under her chin and lift her eyes to mine.
“Divorce sucks kid,” I tell her.
“You said sucks,” she says.
“Yeah,
you did too,” I point out, watching as the frown fades from her lips.
Lifting her chin, she studies me curiously. Having a pair of little eyes
on me, eyes that are full of wonder is a sobering moment for a bastard
like me. It makes me think about how I’m perceived in the eyes of a
child.
My
thoughts are quickly jarred when I hear half-pints mother shriek from
deep inside the house. Then I hear her other two kids shout and before I
realize what the fuck I’m doing, I’m following the little girl into the
house. Running into the kitchen, the kid comes to a complete stop and I
stand behind her, taking in the chaos.
Water
spurts from under the sink like a waterfall and the mud
wrestler holds a pot in front of her as if to catch the fucking water.
The older boy grabs another pot and tries to help his mother while the
other girl covers her face with her hands.
“Make it stop,” the girl cries.
“I
don’t know how!” the mother shrieks, emptying the pot into the sink.
Her son goes sliding across the floor and she’s quick to grab his wrist
before he hits the floor as the water rains down around them making it
clear they’re fucked.
Stomping
through the puddles soaking the kitchen, I brush past them and kneel
underneath the sink to turn the water valve off. As I twist it closed, I
spot the busted pipe. Suddenly the commotion comes to a standstill as
the water trickles off and silence fills the kitchen. Slipping my head
out from under the sink, four sets of eyes peer back at me like I’m a
fucking unicorn. Wiping my hands along the front of my shirt, I focus on
the mud wrestler as she seems to be the least judgmental of the four.
“The
main pipe under the sink cracked. I shut the water off for now,” I
explain as she continues to stare at me in disbelief. Unable to help
myself, I take her in too. Dressed in a pair of pajamas with her hair
piled high on top of her head, she’s quite a looker. The thin tank top
of her pajamas is soaked, molding to every curve of her body, revealing a
narrow waist and hips that a man holds onto. Lifting my gaze higher, my
eyes zero in on her tits. Her nipples are hard and fully visible
through the wet shirt, leaving nothing to my imagination. It’s hard to
believe the tall boy standing next to her is her son or that any of
these children came from that body.
Forcing my attention away, I reach for the towel hanging on the back of one of her chairs and toss it in her direction.
“Might want to cover up,” I tell her, eyeing the boy standing behind her, wearing the same stumped expression as his mother.
Recovering
she catches the towel and crosses her arms against her chest, hiding
her perfect tits from my view. Last night it was too dark and I was too
drunk to notice her hazel eyes or how full her lips are. My gaze meets
hers and I realize the view up top is just as sweet as everything from
the neck down.
“What—how
did you get in here?” she stammers, finally finding her voice. I raise
an eyebrow, waiting for her to thank me for stopping the waterfall in
her kitchen but she just looks at me expectantly.
“I let him in,” the half-pint offers.
Instantly, her brother turns to her and lectures her claiming the role as man of the house.
“You can’t be letting strange men in the house, Lexi,” he reprimands, wringing out his t-shirt.
Half pint rolls her eyes to the heavens before looking back at me.
“What’s your name?” she questions innocently.
It’s
a simple question yet I stare at her as if she asked me if I knew the
cure for cancer. My first instinct is to tell her my name is Pipe but
I’m not that man anymore. I’m not the man who got his road name because
he made pipe bombs his club sold back in the day. I don’t ride with the
Satan’s Knights anymore.
“Lee,” I mutter. “The name is Lee, kid.”
She steps forward and offers me her little hand.
“I’m
Lexi,” she reveals as I awkwardly shake her hand with my massive paw.
Then she drops my hand and turns to her brother. “Now, Lee isn’t a
stranger anymore, Tommy.”
“Okay, parties over kids,” the mud wrestler declares. “Jenna, take your sister upstairs and help her get dressed.”
“Why do I have to help her? She’s five.”
“Because
I said so,” she replies exasperatedly. Cringing as the words leave her
mouth, she turns to her eldest child. “You too, Tommy.”
“I’m not dressing Lexi.”
“Go shower, now,” she orders. “We need to get a move on.”
The
two girls prance out of the kitchen but Tommy remains still, sizing me
up much like he did last night. It’s clear the kid is protective of his
mother and since half pint squealed all her mama’s business, I can
respect the kid for stepping up. I hold his gaze and jut my chin, giving
him a silent vow that all is good here.
“Tommy,”
my neighbor repeats and the boy finally tears his eyes away. A moment
later he reluctantly leaves the kitchen. “Thank you for turning the
water off,” she says once we’re alone and I turn my attention back to
her
I nod, letting my eyes roam over her, wishing she’d uncross her arms now that her kids are out of sight.
“But
you didn’t come here to fix my plumbing and I don’t see you as a member
of the welcoming committee so I’m confused as to why you’re standing in
my kitchen.”
“Your car is blocking my driveway.”
“You mean the car your friends smashed?”
“That’s
the one,” I reply, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “If
you’re planning on going into town you’re going to want to fix that
bumper first. The fucking troopers up here won’t think twice about
giving you a citation.” I pause, angling my head slightly as I continue
to take her in. “I’m guessing that’s the last thing you need right now.”
Her
cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink as her eyes narrow in anger.
Grinding her teeth, she drops her arms and draws in a deep breath as she
balls her hands into fists.
“And how would you know what I need?” she bites back.
Oh,
I know what she needs. Any man with a pair of working eyes can tell
this woman is wound tight. She needs to release some of that tension
inside her. She needs to get fucked until she can’t remember her name
let alone her troubles but I doubt she wants to hear that.
“Your daughter has loose lips,” I say instead. “Might want to tell her not to spill your business to strangers.”
“Thanks
for your input but I think I’m going to pass on the parenting advice
from a man who had two half naked girls on his lawn in the middle of the
night—both who are probably young enough to be his daughters.”
Biting the inside of my cheek, I remain impassive as she studies me with her those judgmental eyes of her.
I’m
used to people’s remarks. Being a biker, I’ve had my share of
assumptions made about me. Everyone thinks they know everyone. You take
one look at a person and swear you’ve got them all figured out. At
times, I myself have been guilty of the offense. It takes years of
making the wrong convictions and learning from each mistake to realize
you never truly know a person until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes.
“I’ve got everything under control,” she adds and for a moment I wonder who she’s trying to convince.
“Suit yourself, killer,” I retort with a shrug and push off the counter.
“Layla,” she whispers before sighing. “My name is Layla not killer,” she adds, emphasizing the name by adding air quotes.
“Good to know,” I say as I start towards the door. “Get your car out of my driveway, killer.”
Then
without another word, I step out of the kitchen. I’m halfway toward the
front door when I hear her curse and my lips quirk slightly.
Half pint was right.
Her mother has a filthy mouth.
¸.•´✶SYNOPSIS¸.•´✶
Pipe
In
every man’s life there comes a day of reckoning. It’s the day darkness
is exposed and sinners are punished for their trespasses.
A day when loyalty is destroyed and a man is left in ruins.
When he walks away from his club and loses his religion.
Whoever said from the ruins they will rise again never walked a mile in my shoes or the pair of red ones I was left holding.
Layla
He’s bitter, cold and angry.
He’s seen his share of heartache.
Lived through tragedy and despair.
He’s my neighbor.
The man I know should stay away from.
The man who will destroy what’s left of me if I get too close.
He’s Lee Jameson, and I’m Layla Milano.
This is our story.
The story of two people left in ruins forced to rise again.
***NOTE:
Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, offensive language, and
mature topics. Not recommended for people under the age of 18***
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