Colt
Author
Simone Elise
Reads
š„17.7M
Chapters
30
Broken Promises
Summer
Imagine meeting the perfect guy.
Heās successful and handsome. He wines and dines you, and you have mind-blowing sex. Naturally, you fall in love. You marry your soulmate, and your heart is so full as you imagine the rest of your life with him. Your happily ever after.
But then he hits you.
And after that single moment you realize that it was all a lie. That the charming smile was a mask hiding the monster underneath.
Maybe your prince charming isnāt the knight in shining armor.
Maybe instead heās the terrifying biker with inked skin and ripped jeans. Maybe instead of a horse heās got a motorcycle.
The only question is, when the Devil offers you salvation, his eyes burning with hellfire and the promise of a good time, will you be brave enough to take his hand?
Will you be ready for the ride?
***
I stumbled to the floor, the glass in my hand shattering against my palms, the wine spilling blood-red over the hardwood.
I stared up in shock at my husband, his handsome face twisted with anger.
āElliot,ā I said. My voice sounded weirdly far away to my own ears. āYou hit me.ā
He punched me. My mind worked slowly, trying to overcome the shock. I thought things were getting better. We had our problemsāevery marriage didāand we were working through them. It started with verbal abuse, or a little shoveā¦and now this.
I promised to love him through the good and the bad, and the bad didnāt last forever. Or, at least, that was what Iād kept telling myself. As shock gave way to a throbbing pain on my cheek, I doubted that that would ever happen.
āOh my god.ā Elliot blinked, and he looked like he just woke up from a terrible nightmare. āOh my god, Summer.ā He kneeled down beside me and I cringed away from him. āBaby, Iām so sorry.ā
He gently cradled my face, and the spike of fear that stabbed into me told me all I needed to know. I loved my husband, but there wasnāt a future for us. Not anymore.
āI canāt do this anymore, Elliot.ā Tears slid down my cheeks. My palms burned from the shards of glass dug into my skin. āI have to leave.ā
His face crumpled with pain, and my heart beat faster. I was terrified of what he might do next. I knew it was just him and me in this prison called a mansion. No one would hear me scream, and no one would hear me whimper; no one would hear what the consequences of my actions tonight would be.
āSummer, please donāt do this. I know it has been a rough few months. Iām sorry, I didnāt mean it. Hell, Iāll do anything it takes. Iāll get a sponsor for AA now.ā He even pulled his phone out.
My stomach twisted into a knot.
I knew that was a huge move, especially if it came out to the public.
āYou know what happens when I drink. You were the one that handed me the glass to celebrate our first year with a toast.ā His words held honesty, and I knewāor, at least, I hoped to believeāthat deep down he didnāt mean to hit me, and it was the liquor. He was right, too: I had handed him the champagne glass.
āCome on, Summer, I need you, so please help me get through this. Weāll face this together and then we can get back to how we were. You, me, us. Letās get our marriage back on track. You know I love you.ā
He was pleading with me, begging me, and I knew there was only one condition that would get me to stay.
āIāll stay only if you get help.ā
āDone.ā He was quick to agree. āDo you remember our honeymoon? The first night, you were sipping on a Sangria and singing out of tune to the band. We made love on the beach, underneath the stars. I remember every detail. It was the best night of my life because I finally got to call you mine. That was the night we began our life together.ā
He locked eyes with me. āRemember the next day, when we were in that crowded market and you fell in love with that necklace, the one you are wearing now, and you didnāt want to get it because you thought it was too expensive?ā
His voice was smooth, confident, and clear of aggression. His expressionā¦he was completely calm, and that threw me off. āAnd I told you that you would never want for anything ever again? We were so happy, Summer. Iāll do anything to get us back to that.ā
Elliot gently helped me up to my feet. He took my hands and looked at the glass in my skin, and I saw the shame in his face.
āI swear this will never happen again. I love you, Summer. Youāre my whole world.ā Elliot looked so earnest, so genuine, that I couldnāt help the flicker of hope I felt in my heart. I saw a glimpse of the wonderful man I married. āLetās get you cleaned up.ā
And just like thatā¦I chose to stay. I chose to believe.
Because he was my husband. Because I still loved him.
I let him clean me up and help get me ready for bed. He even offered to sleep in a hotel for the night so I could have some space. Elliot was gentle, and sweet, and attentive for the rest of the night.
I laid awake in bed, the silk sheets were a comforting weight against my skin. I slowly drifted to sleep, hoping with all my heart that things would work out in the end.
Scorp
hey sis
Scorp
i know itās been a while but I need you to do me a favor
Summer
what do you want?
Scorp
nothing crazy
Scorp
just keep your head down
Scorp
stay in your husbandās fancy mansion for a while
Summer
first you abandon me for your club now you want to tell me how to live my life?
Scorp
summer please
Scorp
this is serious
Scorp
theyāre letting him out of death row. apparently the evidence was tampered with.
Scorp
the Devilās back out on the streets, and heās gonna need my help.
Summer
what? no you need to stay away from him.
Summer
scorp?
Summer
donāt ignore me!
I frowned down at my phone. I had vague memories of Colt Hudson from when I was younger. The one they called the Devil. The infamous head of the Vipers MC.
My idiot brother was going to get himself killed.
I was secretly grateful that Elliot still wasnāt home from the hotel yet. I didnāt want to have to explain my stupid family history to him. He had enough to deal with.
I grabbed my keys. If my brother wouldnāt answer his phone, then Iād just go to his place directly.
Colt
If thirteen years waitinā on death row taught me anything, it was this: aināt no fucking point in being scared of death if you aināt living life.
I learned young that nothing made a man more feared than snuffing out another manās life the same as you would a cigarette on your boot. And, like the first puff of smoke filling your lungs, my first taste of blood had me hooked.
Nothing gets a man higher than holding another manās life in his hands. The only problem is, the higher you are, the harder you fall.
Killing had got me as high up in the underworld as you can get. All lost and tormented motherfuckers had either feared me or reported to me. When you pledged to my club, you pledged your soul, your existence, and everything you owned to me.
All my members knew their deaths would be by my hands. Yet, even with that in mind, I never had one fucking problem with getting men to pledge. See, they were all as addicted to the life as me, and they knew that as long as they stayed loyal, there was nothing to fear.
I valued loyalty more than anything else.
It was slowly earned and given rarely, but thirteen years ago, Iād made a mistake and given too much too soon. I had put my trust in the wrong hands and gotten sent to death row because of it.
Now, I was back like a magic trick. Free. Ready to raise hell and take more lives, instead of wasting another second of mine.
I stood outside of the maximum security prison, breathing in my first lungful of free air in over a decade.
I knew I had my work cut out for me. A lot can change in thirteen years, and I knew not everyone would be happy that I was a free man. I wasnāt going to be able to do this on my own. I needed help.
And Scorpās ugly mug was the first face that came to mind.
It was time to pay my old friend a visit.
