Page 1 of Lawton

Prologue

Five Years Earlier

One stupid punch.

I stared down at the guy, lying face up on the pavement.Damn it, get up already.

Around us the crowd was going wild. Guys were yelling. Girls were posing. Money was passing from hand to hand.

Me, I didn't have that kind of money. In fact, I hadnomoney. And if I did? Well, I sure as hell wouldn't be betting it on which of two guys could better kick the shit out of each other.

I eyed the guy, still lying there with his eyes shut and his mouth half-open. He was big. A lot bigger than me. And supposedly, he was tough.

Turns out, not so much.

I felt myself swallow.C'mon. Get up.

Hedidn'tget up.

A few feet away, a curvy redhead in a skimpy halter top was jumping up and down, making everything jiggle as she yelled out something about sucking my dick later on.

No. That wasn't gonna happen. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

I shifted my gaze to the usual spot. And there he was. The guy they called Boss. He was watching the scene with lidded eyes and a thin mouth. Beside him, were his two favorite tough guys – Sammy and Trick.

One stupid punch.

And now, I was royally fucked.

Chapter 1

It was her. My breath caught. She looked exactly like I remembered.

Wholesome. That was the word. Or at least, that was the word normal people might use for a twenty-something girl with sun-kissed hair and wide, innocent eyes. For a girl wearing classic clothes and only the hint of makeup. For a girl who looked way too nice for the likes of me.

Standing outside my new place, I watched, too messed up for words, as the girl of my dreams walked past, oblivious to the fact that she'd just rocked me to the bone.

I waited for her to speak. To say something. Anything. For years, her voice had haunted my thoughts. And that face, it was the thing that kept me awake too many nights, except for the nights she rocked me to sleep, in my thoughts, if not in my bed.

The messed up thing was, I didn't even know her name.

But in my book, she had saved my life.

Leaning against the massive iron gate to my new estate, I had to laugh, watching her walk by without even a glance. The laugh was low – too low to hear, but loud enough to make me want to kick my own ass.

This was no time to be stupid. I looked down at my feet, bare, and stifled a curse. If I'd been smart, I'd have worn shoes, or hey, how about a shirt, when I walked outside to reprogram the gate.

In this neighborhood, I knew exactly how I looked. I stuck out like a wolf in a field of sheep. I had too many tattoos, and not enough class. My cars were loud, and so were my friends. I had more money than Midas, but no college degree.

And now, I had a three-acre estate in Rochester Hills, just a half-hour away from the hellhole I'd grown up in.

I watched as the girl – the one with the playful smile and hypnotic eyes – kept on walking without a backward glance. In front of her, a small brown terrier bounded forward, like he'd drag her to China if she gave him half the chance.

I heard her laugh, and the sound carried across the cool fall air. I sucked in a breath and tried like hell not to chase her down. I had no shirt, no shoes, and no intention of screwing this up.

I'd had my share of girls – more than my share, I guess – but I'd never had a girl like her, warm and smart, and funny as hell. I felt myself frown. And rich. From birth, obviously.

Standing by the gate, I took a good look around. In this neighborhood, that was all you got – surgeons and CEOs, kids who went to private schools, and old-money assholes who thought they were better than guys like me.