Unfinished
Business
Bastards of Boston Novel
By Carina Adams
Genre:
MC Romance
Release Date: July 26, 2017
“5 Stars! Rocker
and Cris slayed me! Totally shreaded my heart at times and then their snark had
me snorting and laughing away my tears.” - Angela from Goodreads
“This book was
PHENOMENAL!!! I could not put it down…” - Carrie from Goodreads
“I am speechless
and my heart hurts. What an amazing story…” - Colleen from Goodreads
The Bastards of
Boston live in a world most don't understand. They follow their own rules, only
accountable to each other, the innocents they protect, and the people they
couldn't save.
As president of
the Bastards MC, Robert Doyle is the man behind it all. It’s his responsibility
to keep his club safe, to be the smartest man in the room, and be ten steps
ahead of everyone. He’d give everything he had, and sell his soul to the devil,
to protect the ones he loves.
Until Rocker
comes face-to-face with the pain he thought he’d buried. Old wounds are ripped
open. Revenge consumes him. Once again he’s the teenager desperate to avenge
his daughter’s murder and nothing else matters.
He calls me his
angel, but the halo I wear caught fire a long time ago. There is no line I
won’t cross, no law I won’t break. I’ll do whatever it takes to save him. If the
road to hell is paved with good intentions, I’ll happily burn.
When past and
present collide, we’re in for one hell of a bumpy ride.
Unfinished
Business © Carina Adams
Unedited and
Subject to Change
I felt my eyes
widen as I got my first good look. In my mind, she was still just a girl, short
and straight, all gangly arms and awkward movements that come with being a
young teen. Somewhere over the last few years, she’d grown up.
I hesitated,
stunned. This woman was nothing but trouble; tall, athletic, and beautiful
enough to make even me notice her. Her dark hair was longer than it had ever
been, her face had thinned, making her cheekbones seem sharp, and her lips look
puffy. For a split second, I stared into her artic blue eyes, completely blown
away. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve sworn there was relief in those
depths.
Something I’d
thought I’d lost stirred in my gut.
“Don’t touch
me!” she sneered, trying to get free as I caught her and gripped her shoulders
tightly. When she couldn’t break the hold, she glanced over my shoulder, her
panic clear. “Where’s Matty?”
“Not here.”
“Let go!” She
shoved at me again. “I need Matt, not you.”
"You're in
my clubhouse, little girl," I growled, pushing away anything but the
irritation that my stress-free night had gone to shit so quickly. "If you
didn't want to see me, you should have stayed in that cushy little apartment I
pay out the ass for."
Blue eyes
narrowed as she tipped her head back and looked at me. Seeing my shiner, she
raised an eyebrow, her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Someone finally gave you
the beating you deserved? Sorry I wasn't here for that."
The strong scent
of alcohol on her breath made me clench my fists. She winced as my fingers dug
into her flesh, and it took every ounce of self-restraint I had to loosen my
grip. I took a deep breath and tried to control my rage. “You’ve been
drinking.” It wasn’t a question.
Her eyes
narrowed in crystal-clear hatred as she jerked her head back. “Go to hell.”
“Already been
there, Brat. Fought my way out. Explain to me why you’re here."
"I told
Tonka Truck," —she sent Tank's back a seething look—"I’m here for
Matty. I meant it." Her hands planted themselves on my chest. "Get
the fuck away from me before I start to scream and these guys”—she leaned her
head toward the table—"give you another black eye."
I laughed
humorlessly at that.
The stupid
little girl was fucking clueless. She could scream all she wanted and not one
of the brothers here would step in to help her. She wasn't at some college frat
party where a good Samaritan was waiting to rescue the pretty damsel in
distress. Tank and I were the closest things in this room, and if we were the
ones causing the scene, everyone else would sit back, drink and watch the show.
“Let’s go!” I
snapped.
Cris shook her
head. “I’m not leaving. Not without—”
“Now!” I yelled,
cutting off her words.
Her jaw set.
“Fuck off. I’m not leaving.”
Five years ago
I'd had enough of her attitude and manipulation to last a lifetime—I definitely
wasn’t ready to deal with it again. I refused to cause an even bigger scene
with the drama queen in front of me, to risk the chance that someone would
figure out she was worth something. Her brother could deal with her shit. I was
done.
If Matt had been
here, I would’ve stepped aside and let him handle her. Since he was home
studying, she was my responsibility. Fucking bullshit best friend code. But I
knew he’d do it for me.
So, I did the
only thing I could. I grabbed her, threw her over my shoulder, and strode out
of the clubhouse.
When fists
started pounding into my lower back, and she started demanding I put her down,
my hand itched with the need to spank the jean-covered ass on my shoulder. As
we made our way outside, I hoped the anger and hatred coursing through my veins
was clear on my face. If any patched member stepped in, I’d have no place to
argue—I wasn’t their equal yet; I was still a guest in their club.
A few brothers
nodded my way, amusement clear, as I headed for the door, but no one tried to
stop me. Thank Jesus. I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done if they had. Probably
something dangerous to my health and definitely something stupid.
Once the brat
realized that she couldn’t fight her way down, she did the only thing an
immature child like her would—she tried to pants me. I knew when she was quiet
for a moment too long that she was up to something. I thought she was going to
give it one final push and try to break free, but when her hands moved to my
back pockets and she gave the denim one solid shove , I almost laughed.
Instead, I
yanked on my waistband, barely keeping it around my hips, and gave her thigh a
warning squeeze with my free hand. The whole city could see my blue Fruit of
the Looms, and I still wouldn’t put her down until I’d safely deposited her ass
in my truck.
When she gave
them another push, I snapped. “Cut the shit, Cris.”
“Fuck off.”
Such a polite
and sweet little girl my best friend’s baby sister was.
An avid reader
who loves epic and unconventional romance, Carina has an unhealthy obsession
with Jason Statham, loves the sounds of Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson, is the
crazy friend your mom warned you about, and believes one day she will go
through the stones to meet Jamie Fraser.
Carina has been
writing and creating characters for as long as she can remember, allowing her
to fall in love with the next man of her dreams with every new story. None of
which are anything like boring Prince Charming. Thankfully, fate stepped in and
granted her the ultimate wish - a life full of men. Carina lives in a
picturesque New England town with her husband, the man who ruined the thought
of all others, and two amazing sons who always keep her on her toes.
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