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Loner (The Nomad Series Book 4)
Loner (The Nomad Series Book 4) Read online
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Epilogue
no·mad
[ˈnōˌmad]
NOUN
A member of a people having no permanent abode and who travel from place to place to find fresh pasture for their livestock.
A person who does not stay long in the same place; a drifter, a wanderer, a roamer, a loner.
©Copyright All Rights Reserved
Loner (Book Four) in the Nomad Series
By
Janine Infante Bosco
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Published by Janine Infante Bosco
ISBN-13: 978-1980345732
Edited/formatted by: Jennifer Bosco
Cover Design by: JB’s Book Cover Obsession Design
Cover Model: Lance Jones
Photographer: Wander Aguiar Photography
Books by Janine Infante Bosco
The Tempted Series: *all can be read as standalone*
Illicit Temptations (Book One)
Forbidden Temptations (Book Two)
Uncontrollable Temptations (Book Three)
Reckless Temptations (Book Four)
Lethal Temptations (Book Five)
Eternal Temptations (Book Six)
The Nomad Series: *all can be read as standalone*
Drifter (Book One)
Wanderer (Book Two)
Roamer (Book Three)
Loner (Book Four)
Satan’s Knights novels: *all can be read as standalone*
From the Ruins
The Crazy Bastard – Coming Soon
Standalone novels
Raging Inferno – From the Burn Me Anthology – Full novel Coming soon
The Riverdale Series: *should be read in series order*
Pieces – Book One
Broken Pieces – Book Two
Fitting the Pieces – Book Three
Jake’s Journal (Book 3.5) novella – companion to the series
Table of Contents
©Copyright All Rights Reserved
Books by Janine Infante Bosco
Dear Reader,
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Epilogue
Bonus Scene
About the Author
Dear Reader,
It seems like just yesterday I was finishing up the Tempted Series. I remember how badly I didn’t want it to end and how much I wanted to continue riding with the Satan’s Knights. The idea of a spin-off series came to me. What better way to keep Jack and his club alive other than bringing in four fresh faces.
Four fresh men.
Four more fiercely independent women.
And, so the Nomad Series began.
It’s been one hell of a ride and like the characters have all had their back against the wall, so have I.
In case you were wondering, following timelines and interconnecting stories is a bitch. So is wrapping up a series.
There was a lot to cover in this book. Not only did I have to tie together everything the previous books left unfinished but, I also had to get Linc out of a wheelchair.
(note to self: kill the character next time)
I had to find a motive for Yankovich and a sentence for his crimes.
And in between all the drama of the Satan’s Knights, I had to give you Kelly and Linc.
Throughout the entire book I had to remind myself this wasn’t a television series and I wasn’t adapting this story for film.
As much reality as I wanted to give you, I needed to understand myself, that, this was fiction.
These characters are not real.
That being said, I know you love them too.
Thank you for riding with me and being #PropertyofParrish
The time has come for the ride to Hell.
Don’t bother preparing yourself, I’ve taken the liberty of shocking the shit out of you.
Of course, somethings will remain the same—after all, you’re about to enter the unapologetic world of the Satan’s Knights.
The crass talking bikers with no fucking filter are back!
You’ll laugh.
You’ll cry.
You’ll swoon.
You’ll curse Janine Infante Bosco too.
The motherfucks are going to fly, I promise you.
The grammar won’t be on point and that’s because you are now riding with the Satan’s Knights and the men wearing the reaper aren’t scholars, they’re street guys who are rough around the edges.
Their words are just as rough as the filthy promises they make.
Now, that we’ve had this talk, it’s time for the drink
ing game.
However, I fear you might get alcohol poisoning with this one so, grab your bottle of choice and responsibly.
Take two Tylenol in the morning and write your review.
Remember, every ending is a new beginning and as long you keep reading, I’ll keep writing.
Now, shut the fuck up.
Church is in session.
See you on the other side,
Janine
To my readers new and old,
Right down the line, it’s been you and me.
Thank you for standing beside me through this journey.
Prologue
Nashville, Tennessee
Age: 18
My pulse pounds violently in my ears as sweat drips from my brow and I frantically throw my shoulder against the door. Busting it open, I trip into the tiny studio apartment. My heart beats erratically as my gaze sweeps the small space, searching for the pair of blue eyes and the sweet smile I call home.
“Savannah,” I rasp, hopelessly. Greeted by silence, all the blood rushes to my head. The room spins and my knees threaten to buckle as the memory of my mother’s voice rings in my ear clear as day.
You’re the spawn of Satan, Lincoln. Music isn’t what flows through your veins, mayhem is. You’re not only throwing your life away but you’re destroying hers as well.
At the time, I thought it was her feeble attempt to make me stay, to live like her—dreamless and bitter. Now, two years later I stand here staring at the empty apartment with my heart in my throat as the ugly truth slams into me.
My mother was right.
“Looking for someone?” a controlled eerie voice taunts. Like wildfire, goosebumps spread across my flesh. My bones chill and the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. Fear and dread churn inside my gut as I slowly find the courage to turn around.
Flocked by his two minions, Sally “The Butcher” Baldwin, stares back at me with a bored expression playing on his face. Standing at five feet tall, he is unfazed by his height and overcompensates for what he’s lost in inches by being a vicious predator—a stone-cold killer.
A man who at first glance might easily be mistaken for an aristocrat. Until he sheds his perfectly tailored sports jacket rolls up his sleeves and delivers death with his bare hands. Like every powerful man, The Butcher doesn’t take defeat lightly and he sure as hell doesn’t allow anyone to cheat him out of a dollar—something I learned early on and yet, still I thought I was invincible.
The exception.
The kid he never saw coming.
The one who would take him for all he’s worth.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I raise the back of my hand and wipe the sweat from my brow, realizing how badly I misjudged myself and the villain standing before me. I may have taken him for a lot of money but he’s the one who has the power to strip me of my worth. I’m not talking about the paper I’ve spent the last two years of my short life chasing. There is only one thing of value I possess and it’s Savannah. Until today, I thought money made you rich but as I stand here terrified I won’t see her again, I realize I was wrong.
Again.
“Where is she? What did you do with her?” I shriek, balling my fists at my sides. Knowing I’m no match for him, I don’t raise them and argue instead. “It’s not her fault. She didn’t lose your money, I did. If you give me a chance I swear on everything I will get it back. I will double it.”
He steps closer cocking his head to the side as his gaze travels the length of me. Part of me knows I should be fearful, that he could reach out and snap my neck with his bare hands and there wouldn’t be a damn thing in this world I could do to stop him. However, the bigger part of me, the part that is still just a young naïve boy trying to make it in the cold world, that part searches for a shred of compassion in the eyes of the monster. That part of me prays he will give me one more chance to make things right and spare Savannah.
Reaching out, he pats my cheek gently and closes the little space between us.
“Such a frightened little cub,” he observes, thoughtfully. “If only you would’ve listened when you were warned not to play with the wild,” he says.
Dropping his hand from my face, he glances over his shoulder. And gestures to the man standing behind him.
“Grab him,” he orders as he turns on his heel and ushers past his two enforcers.
“Where are you taking me?” I call out frantically watching as he steps into the hallway and comes to a full stop. Straightening his tie, he turns his beady eyes to me and lifts one bushy eyebrow.
“To teach you a lesson, a very important lesson.”
Without another word, he disappears down the hallway and the two men don’t give me a chance to wonder what happens next. Grabbing a hold of me, they drag me out of the apartment and down the three flights of stairs. Once outside, I’m shoved into the back of an SUV and a pillowcase is pulled over my head before I hear the door slam shut. A moment later we’re moving and it’s agonizingly clear we’re headed for hell.
I cry silently, as I feel the heat of my own piss stream down my thighs, soaking my pants. However, there is no time for shame and like a pussy, I close my eyes tightly praying they make my death quick and painless. The SUV comes to an abrupt stop a few minutes later and I’m pulled from the backseat. Someone kicks me in the leg and blindly I’m forced to walk straight into the depths of hell.
Foolishly, we think Satan’s lair is surrounded by scorching hot flames that sear your flesh and singe your soul until there is nothing left but a pile of ash but, there are different types of hell—something I learn when an arctic blast of cold air swallows me whole. Stripped of my sight by the pillowcase still covering my head, I rely on my other senses to try to place where they’ve taken me but, the freezing temperatures make it hard for me to concentrate on anything.
“The little shit pissed his pants,” one enforcer points out.
“Remove the pillowcase from his head,” Sally orders.
My teeth chatter as the case is pulled from my head and my eyes slowly open. Fighting for focus, I stare at the frozen carcasses of pigs and cows hanging from heavy meat hooks.
“They call me the butcher,” Sally says. “Do you know why?”
I shake my head violently, watching as he steps toward the switch on the wall. Glancing over his shoulder, he wickedly grins at me.
“I inherited this butcher shop,” he explains. “It was my grandfather's and while meat markets have become somewhat obsolete these days, I don’t have the heart to part with it. It’s all I have left of the old man. You understand that don’t you?”
Unsure where he’s going with this or what I’m supposed to say, I nod my head and watch him flick the switch. The carcasses move in a rotation and Sally snaps his fingers, demanding my attention.
“I needed to find a way for this place to be useful to a man in my position,” he continues. “The good people of Nashville come here for the prime cuts of beef but, the people like me, the twisted fucks who circle the underworld, they come here looking for me to dispose of any and all evidence.”
“Evidence?”
“Lesson number one, you can’t be convicted of murder if they never find a body, son,” he says pointedly.
“Is that why I’m here?” I croak. “If you’re going to kill me, then just do it already. Please.”
He shakes his head.
“No, Lincoln, I told you I’m here to teach you not to kill you.”
“Teaching me a lesson won’t get your money back,” I tell him.
Confused, I watch him flick the switch down and the rotating meat comes to a stop. He runs his hand over the body of a pig before giving it a firm pat.
“If I kill you for losing my money, then you’re relieved of your burdens. You don’t get to suffer for your crimes and there is simply no fun in that,” he continues, moving from one frozen animal to another. “But, if I give you something to remember, something to haunt you and force you to live in tormen
t, well, that’s the sweet satisfaction of revenge.”
He pauses, crooking his finger as he beckons me closer.
“C’mere,” he demands.
Paralyzed by the cold or maybe fear, I stay rooted in place and shake my head defiantly.
“It’s not a request,” he clarifies, gritting his teeth. “Come here, now.”
Still, I don’t move.
It’s a mind over matter thing that makes it impossible for me to physically take a step toward him, certain whatever awaits me is something I won’t be able to erase from my mind. It’s making the conscious effort to not be at a monster’s mercy, knowing it’s ultimately a wasted effort because when the butcher wants to brand you, there is no escaping it.
His lackey grabs me by the back of my throat and drags me closer to Sally.
“Please, no,” I beg.
With all his might he pushes one of the carcasses and then another, repeating it until my eyes move like a pendulum watching them swing from the hooks. That’s when I catch a glimpse of what hangs behind the animals. Sure my imagination is running wild, I close my eyes briefly and pray I didn’t just witness my beautiful girlfriend hanging from a meat hook.
The bile rises in my throat as I open my eyes and stare in horror at Savannah’s lifeless body. Frozen solid with her eyes open, she hangs by the back of her neck.
“NO!”
Tears stream down my cheeks as I scream at the top of my lungs. My stomach drops and I’m no longer able to hold down the vomit. Regurgitating, I lurch forward emptying the contents of my stomach onto the floor. Whatever happens next becomes a blur as I fall to my knees wishing it was me and not her.
His words sink in and I realize the sickest part of it all is that I can beg this man to kill me and he won’t. He’s right, this is a far worse punishment than death. Not only will I live with the guilt but, I won’t remember her pretty face or the way her nose scrunches up when she smiles at me. The sound of her voice as she hits all the high notes is already a distant memory. A thing of the past. All that’s left is this moment and every day of my life, I will remember Savannah hanging from a hook.
Wiping my mouth with my sleeve, I foolishly lift my head and torment myself some more watching as one of Sally’s men unhooks her. A whimper escapes my lips as her body falls to the floor with a thump. He grabs her by her ankles and drags her across the freezer.