#plus the only other ‘thing’ he dropped for MC in the prison was the bit about the dragon

[baldwinboy5ive]

In a much earlier chapter, when Nia is struggling with Shadow corruption, you can say “Maybe Aerin can help” and that option actually gives you XP as though it’s the correct response (along one other dialogue option which is also correct and gives XP).

So that is completely hilarious and ridiculous now that we realize all Aerin would have been able to say to Nia is “Okay, if you have a Nerada Stone embedded in you, you have to forcibly rip it out of yourself. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, but so much worse.”

“I do not.”

“Ah, then I got nothing. Okay hahah good luck with that.”

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Can I request a Viv Tang fic or hc?

It's angst, where The Poppy leaves MC to take the blame on one of their heists, promising that they would break her out, but never did. Yet despite that she never sold them out.

Then Nadia was the one who broke her out, manipulating her and plotting lies in her head to make her join Flashpoint.

The Poppy did do their everything to break MC out but everytime Nadia intercepts them. So when they finally tracked down where MC and Nadia is, on the location of their latest operation, they tried to reason to her. But MC's loyalty was too deep for Nadia maybe because Nadia also made MC think that she loves her or something.

And maybe the last words could be:

"Next time I won't hesitate to tell them to pull the trigger, maybe I'll be the one to pull the trigger myself."

Make it as angsty as possible please and thank you in advance!

Warning: Mentions of murder.

...

Prison life was hell. Try as she might, MC couldn’t endure it as well as she thought she could. There was an enemy in every shadow, in every corner. There was no one to lean against, no support.

The days dragged on and on, virtually endless, no help in sight.

MC remembered the warmth of the Poppy, their joyous celebrations, the life in their eyes as they planned a heist that would ultimately unveil in failure. No one had known then that it would go wrong, and MC couldn’t help but wonder if they would have cared. If they would have changed anything in the plan.

There wasn’t a moment in this damn place where people didn’t shove it in her face—no doubt it was on purpose, why the heck would they want to drag a failure like you around? —and scoffed at her when they saw her, not believing for a second that this scared little kid could belong to such a famous group.

Two weeks in, MC had abandoned any hope that she would be rescued. She was stuck for fifteen years in this place. Investigators would come in periodically, their eyes stone cold as they probed her for answers, but MC kept her mouth shut and looked away. They would get physical sometimes, intent on getting answers, but MC say nothing.

The memory of a place she truly belonged in was still fresh in her mind. She had always been an emotional person… it was no surprise she had no desire to sell them out. At least not yet. Give her a couple of months, and maybe she’d be bitter enough to do it.

Three weeks in, a blast had knocked the whole prison into chaos. The sheer relief that flooded her was only slightly evaporated by the spark of anger and indignation in her chest, but she still hurried out, thirsty for freedom.

She expected to see Vivienne’s impish smirk, hand extended in her direction, no remorse in her eyes, but was surprised by golden hair and a tight, crisp suit that had once been white, now marred by dirt and smoke and blood.

“Oh good, I was wondering how much target practice I would have before you showed up,” the woman said, her grin as sharp as a knife’s edge even though she was standing so casually, as if they weren’t standing at the edge of a broken prison wall but in a café.

MC froze, caught off guard. Someone—another inmate—ran behind her, intent on reaching freedom, and the woman whipped a gun in his direction so fast he didn’t even have time to react. His body joined the pile of bodies by the side, momentum making it flop like a sad, broken doll. The woman hums to herself as she reloads the gun.

“Hurry up, MC, I don’t have all day.”

“Wha—? But you just shot—”

She shrugs, nonchalant. “Yeah, well, since they are no use to me… I might as well practice my aim, no?”

“…I—”

“Hurry up and come here, MC,” the woman says, impatience making her voice firmer and deadlier. Her arm snaps up, the sound of a gunshot making the air vibrate, and MC covers her ears and flinches. Someone lets out a pained gurgle and the thump right behind her makes MC shiver. A swift glance reveals it’s a guard. “The cavalry has arrived—next shot is at your feet if you don’t move. Right. Now.”

MC has never run so fast in her entire life. The woman’s grin returns, pleased, and after one last shot, she guides MC out into a waiting helicopter. They are out of the prison without much trouble. Still a bit anxious, MC takes one of the seats, stiffly. In contrast, the woman lets herself drop in the seat in front of her and all but beams at her.

“Sorry about that—I like to make things dramatic. Name’s Nadia.”

“That was… a tad more dramatic than I would have liked…”

“You’ll get used to it in no time,” she replies, waving her hand as if it’s no big deal. She smirks and lets the gun drop on MC’s lap, who goes very still, staring at the device in horror. “Safety’s on, chill. I’d never do anything to you, MC.”

“You literally threatened me like three seconds ago.”

“Because we were going to get caught otherwise! I wouldn’t have acted on it, promise.”

MC chances a look at her eyes—there’s a dangerous amusement dancing in them, like the light blue of a river that doesn’t seem to have a very strong current until you are swept off into a certain death. There are no second chances with this woman, no false appearances. MC doesn’t realize how reliving this raw honesty is until it washes over her, and she wonders if right now she’s at the edge of the river. One wrong move…

“Thank you for getting me out of there.”

“No big deal. I heard what happened with the Poppy—figures they aren’t as noble as they make everyone believe.”

Those words cut into MC like a frosty knife.

“I… I thought they sent you to break me out…”

Nadia scoffs. “Me, working with stuck-ups like them? Now that’s a good laugh.”

“Why did you bail me out, then?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She leans forward. “The Poppy threw away some very valuable talent. As any proper thief would do, I claimed it for myself.”

“…threw away, huh?”

“They were quite satisfied with themselves, too. Imagine the fit they’ll have when they know you’re with Flashpoint now.”

It’s hard to believe her words. The image of a joyous Poppy is still fresh in MC’s mind, but Nadia’s words tint it a dull reddish-brown, just like a faded photograph. She thinks about Vivienne’s words, about her promise to break her out, and frowns.

“You speak as though I’ve already joined your little group.”

“There’s no other option, MC. I’m not letting a talent like you slip away… plus, don’t you want to get back at them? Show them what a horrible mistake they did?”

“…”

“Or just let them seethe silently in rage, sure. Can’t say I love your approach, but eh.”

Her fingers curl around the grip of the gun. “What happens if I don’t want to work for you?”

Nadia looks at her with keen interest, still with a lazy smirk. “Then you’d be volunteering for target practice.”

“I thought you say you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I don’t hurt my coworkers, no, but if you cross me—whoever you are—then you seal your fate.”

MC hums, looking at the firearm in her lap, moving her thumb over the safety. After a small pause, in which she glances over at the pilot, she moves her hand away.

“Fine. I’ll join.”

“Great!”

Flashpoint, true to its name, prefers more flashy heists.

MC wasn’t too comfortable with their modus operandi at first, but got used to it soon enough.

Nadia was a strict leader. Every conversation with her was intense and dangerous, especially when she was in a bad mood, but she was thorough.

She didn’t mince her words. She was as honest as could be, and after months caught in Vivienne’s game, Nadia was a breath of fresh air. MC couldn’t be really blamed for falling in love with her, right? In the end, Nadia was the only one willing to support her.

That’s why it had been such a surprise when, in the middle of their latest heist, the Poppy had intervened.

They had been as organized as always—Flashpoint was completely caught off guard, the communication lost. MC could deal with not knowing what happened to the rest, so long as she had Nadia with her.

Nadia had been strangely amused when the Poppy crashed their heist, not worried at all, gripping her knife without a care in the world. That was reassuring… at least during this forced encounter, MC would have her by her side.

And it was comforting to see that Nadia hadn’t taken out her gun yet.

Vivienne is the one who speaks, voice as demanding as firewood smoke, and MC goes deadly still when the seductress goes straight to the point instead of dancing around the subject as she usually does. “Nadia prevented us from breaking you out.”

Her words ring hollow. Now that MC has been out of her influence long enough, it’s easy to ignore her words. They are fake, anyway. They must be.

Nadia scoffs, wolfish grin still in place. “Blaming me now, huh? That’s low. I thought you would have come up with a better excuse.”

Remy instantly starts to explain the foiled attempts, and their most recent efforts to find Flashpoint now that MC was with them, but MC can’t look at him without remembering her time in prison—dark, dark, not an ally in sight, contempt in every corner—and it’s enough to make her bristle.

How dare they? How dare they spill these lies after leaving her to rot in jail? After lying to her for months, making her believe she was one of them?

The fact that they had left her to take the fall was insulting. If it had been Nadia, she would have stayed with her. They would have gone down together, guns blazing. Nadia was the type of person that gave everything or nothing at all.

Vivienne tries to speak again, a desperation in her eyes MC had never seen before, but the sight is oddly satisfying.

Nadia catches it, because of course she does, her smirk softening as she reaches for her gun and aims casually. “Better beg for your lives now.”

And Nadia’s also a very dramatic person, that’s for sure. MC almost wants to laugh at their faces, eyes trained on the gun, expression tainted with disbelief, but MC sees no point in killing them. Not like this, at least.

“What? You still don’t want to get back at them?” But even then, even with how much she’s itching to pull the trigger, Nadia lowers the weapon and scowls. “Fine.”

“Don’t come back to me with this bullshit. Next time I won’t hesitate to tell Nadia to pull the trigger. Maybe I’ll even pull the trigger myself.”

Vivienne sets her jaw and stands still, and MC gives her a small, triumphant smile before she follows Nadia out of the museum.

[seoafin]

Sooo i may or may not have become obsessed with the rip!verse (each of your posts make my day and white lighters what a delightful read, holy shit) and i have so many questions! (Pls ma'am... feed us... we need the high quality content you provide...)

1. What is reader's cursed technique? I remember toji saying she had potential upon (brutally) trying to kill her and her examining yuji to... idk, try to seal sukuna, but you've never explicitly said anyting and i am dying to know more (pls help)

2. We all know poor, poor Megumi suffers from the incessant pining between reader and gojo. But what about Yuji and Nobara? And the second years? Do they try to set them together, crossing out the ideas/plans they've already tried, becoming more and more desperate each time it inevitabely fails in the most improbable way? Or does gojo asks for their help?

3. And how could i not talk about the Shibuya Arc? (also known as "gege please for the love of god stop" arc) Where is reader? Did she manage to follow gojo abd watch the... incident unfold? Did she stay behind with Shoko? Did she go with the students? Did she join the kyoto school? How did she react upon learning that gojo was chillin' in his lil cube while the whole world was going to hell? (And did she see Getwo??? What was her reaction??? I have whole scene in mind and am now itching to write it down although i must sleep?? Why??)

(Yep, the rip!verse leaves rent free in my mind. Not that i complain though. It never ceases to amaze me no matter how many times i read it. Plus it inspires me for my own writing so *bows* thank you so much for creating such a bloody brilliant masterpiece! Have a lovely night/day!)

THIS ASK??? Hxhsbndnd i’m so glad you like the ripverse!!

prepare for an info dump + general information on rip!mc which I probably should have typed out/ elaborated on earlier LOL

1)

honestly i'm still working out the details but it's probably going to be something along the lines of the ability to suspend time for a person/object with certain conditions that must be met. but once they're met you can hold it for as long as you wish. It’s not exactly an offensive cursed technique, but deadly if utilized properly! it also comes in handy when trying to study curses!

rip!mc is a historian/researcher who classifies curses which is a fascination which was born after geto left. weirdly, it helps you feel closer to him. your research takes you around the country, and even abroad some times (which gojo despises), but you’re more than well equipped to defend yourself. you trained maki with the polearm!!

I also like the idea of them occasionally teaching as an adjunct professor at Tokyo University (grad student MC ftw), so they know what it’s like to be a teacher, although it’s not exactly the same! the semesters you do teach—you occasionally stay with gojo

the reason why toji said that is bc rip!mc caught toji's eye a split second before he stabbed gojo. since you’re very very sensitive to cursed energy and by default, other people, the pure absence of cursed energy made you instinctively turn. toji was referring to the fact that if you honed your skill a little more, you maybe would have even sensed him!

also the reason why rip!mc is more sensitive to cursed energy than gojo is because he probably automatically filters out the sheer number different cursed energies (since the sensory overload would be crazy while rip!mc never really learned to do that and as a result became more attuned to cursed energies in general)

Also more about the cursed seals! Rip!mc is exceptionally good at making seals because of how sensitive they are to cursed energy. In harmonious, you had to gauge sukuna’s overall (at the time) power in order feel out whether or not you could make a good enough seal (the higher ups requested it) to contain sukuna.

2)

Everyone is tired of gojo’s pining. And suspicious at how oddly ignorant you are. When gojo makes himself at home on your lap in the middle of a meeting for the umpteenth time, and you’re completely unfazed, everyone’s like?????

It kinda goes back to how rip!mc refuses relationships because she knows she’s going to die (hazards of the job), and she’s afraid of leaving a lover behind more than anything (childhood trauma. involves parents), and in her head, friends and lovers are two distinctly different things (they really aren’t). Getting over a friend's death is different from getting over a lover’s death (once again, not really, who’s going to tell her???)

And gojo, for as much as he lacks boundaries (ie; has none) tries to accommodate it the best he can although you’ve always been his. shoko always tells gojo that (like always when it comes to rip!mc) he’s jumping the gun, but he shoots her with finger guns and says that he has no idea what she’s talking about :)

Maybe the reason why you’re never home is because you doesn’t want to confront your feelings haha

When it comes to the nosy students. Nobara likes you but can’t fathom gojo in a relationship. Yuji automatically assumes you and gojo are dating. Maki thinks that you can do so much better than that idiot. Panda thinks it’s cute. Inumaki: Salmon. Yuta sees the way gojo “looks” at you but thinks he’s overthinking it, and doesn’t want to say anything.

Megumi, on the other hand, tells everyone to leave it since he’s a bit protective over rip!mc.

3

You’re not the only one!! I’ve gotten messages on ao3 asking about the shibuya arc LOL 😭

the reader was called back from Okinawa as backup and reached tokyo as soon as gojo entered the curtain. he texted her saying not to worry (haha). They entered with shoko and yaga to protect her and the patients. And when she hears that gojo’s been sealed, she’s completely bewildered. Gojo can take care of himself wherever he is, she’s more worried about the students than him tbh LOL (gojo is definitely going to whine about that later)

When megumi’s dropped off by yuji (ugh!!!) this is where it could go either way.

1) Shoko sees how worried you are about yuji, whose cursed energy you picked up before he ran away, and tells you to go. You find him but he runs away from you. If this happened I could see a getwo reunion (I’m hurt, did you already forget my face?) where getwo reaches out to touch your hair and gets stopped by surprise, surprise, original geto deep inside. Cue some more body vs soul philosophical talking points before you eventually meet up with the kyoto gang AND utahime!!!

2) Stay with shoko. Eventually get called to the Kyoto group.

Meanwhile inside the prison realm gojo is playing with a ring the size of your ring finger (how he got the measurement nobody knows)

[chibsytelford]

A Last Goodbye

*** GIF CREDIT TO CREATOR ***

Anon requested - Hii, I'm the one who requested the Chibs 'A broken heart' minific. Thank you so much for writing it! And now I am in mood for mooore angst and heartbreak hehe. I was thinking something along the lines of Chibs and the reader having a mutual breakup (e.g because Chibs is going to prison, or to 'protect the reader, or whatever you feel fits!) even though they're still in love, and the fic is their last night together before officially breaking up. So essentially really sad fluff. ♡

Authors Comment - Another Chibs heartbreak fic - it doesn’t get any easier to write about, but I still enjoyed writing it if that makes sense! This one is pretty long - maybe my longest yet.

Taglist - @agirllovespasta​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @rebel-without-cause-x​ @starrynite7114​ @sheeshgivemeabreak​ @naytraydr​ @jadesamhart​ @whyisgmora​ @talicat713​ @fangirlingaesthetics​ - if you would like added to my taglist just ask :)

You knew Charming was just a temporary stop. Your dream was to move to New York and become a big shot artist. It had been your dream since you were a little girl.  You moved here from San Francisco 2 years ago, to complete the last 2 years of your art degree. San Francisco was a bit too busy for you, and you needed peace and quiet to complete the last 2 years, so you chose Charming. You had looked at pictures and found a small house by the beach for rent, which would be perfect for you to focus on your painting. The views from the house were spectacular and you knew that you could definitely spend 2 years here just drawing the landscapes, the beach, the water and the hills. What you didn’t expect was to fall in love.

You met Chibs the day after you moved here. You were shopping in the supermarket and couldn’t reach something from the top shelf when a tall man with dark greying hair came over to you.

“Need help wi that lass?” he had asked you as he stretched round you and got the beans down from the shelf.

You had thanked him and thought you wouldn’t see him again, but you were so wrong. The next day you were down by the beach getting ready to paint when you saw the same man, just sitting out staring at the water. You approached him and he told you he did this every morning, to clear his head before he started work. And he wasn’t lying. Every morning you looked down onto the beach and saw the man who you learned was called Filip, or Chibs. And that was the start of your relationship. You started by taking him tea down in the mornings, and tea turned into breakfast and you guys got to know each other. You told him about your plans, that after 2 years you would be leaving Charming to go to New York. You told him you were not looking for a relationship, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try and get you to change your mind.

About 2 months into your new breakfast routine, you headed down to the beach as normal. But when you got there, breakfast was waiting for you this time, with a single red rose. You looked up at Chibs who just shrugged and played it off as normal. You ate and talked about what your plans were for that day, and then you got up to leave.

“Love, will ye go on a proper date wi me?” Chibs had caught you off guard. You reminded him of your ‘no relationship’ rule and he told you it was bullshit and if he only had you for another 1 year and 10 months then he would be a happy man. Against your better judgement, you agreed to a date, and after that one date you knew you were in trouble. You fell in love with him.

He introduced you to his brothers early on in the relationship. You instantly clicked with all of them, and they all had their little quirks that you found amusing. You slotted right in to the goings on at Teller Morrow and the clubhouse. Before introducing you to the Sons, Chibs explained what he actually did for a living. He told you he was in an MC that shipped drugs and guns and money, and occasionally did bad things. But you knew that no matter what he told you, you wouldn’t love him any less.

Your new daily routine was going down to the beach, having breakfast with your boyfriend, then painting for a few hours, before taking lunch for the boys, and then sitting with them for a couple of hours if they were actually in the clubhouse, then heading home to do more painting. Then you made dinner, and went to bed. Chibs had pretty much moved in with you after the first date. It was a bit fast, but you both felt the same way towards each other. You always made him dinner, but usually he heated his up when he got home as he always showed up late, but you didn’t mind, it gave you time to paint in peace.

---

You didn’t realise you were crying until you looked down and saw tears splatted onto the letter you had in front of you. It was a job offer in New York. Today was your last day in Charming. The 2 years had flown by so quickly. You got your art degree like you wanted, and now you were offered a job in a prestige New York Art Gallery, where they said you could sell your own work as well as work there, because it was excellent. This was your dream, and you were excited, but you were also heartbroken, because it meant saying goodbye to Charming, and goodbye to your boyfriend. You knew that the distance between New York and Charming was only 44 hours away, even less on a plane, but realistically you were going to be so busy with your new job, and Chibs couldn’t leave the MC for more than a day. Plus New York wasn���t for a man like him.

“Why are ye crying love?” Chibs came over and pulled you up so you were standing in front of him. You handed him the letter and he read it. His face was a picture of sadness, which soon vanished when he looked up to you and gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m so proud of ye, New York is your dream, and now ye can go” You nodded whilst wiping your tears away using the back of your hand. “Are they happy tears or sad tears?”

“Mostly sad, because tonight is our last night together, I don’t know when I will be coming back, if I ever do” You had now started crying again and Chibs pulled you into him.

“Shhh lass” He tried to hide the sadness in his voice but he knew he couldn’t for long. You both knew this day was coming because you had marked it on the calendar. But now the day was finally here, it started to become more real that this was goodbye.

You had spoken about you moving to New York a couple of times in the last 2 years. You both decided that long distance wasn’t going to work, with the different time zones, and the MC was getting busier and busier and you didn’t want Chibs to have to try and juggle a long distance relationship and focus on the club. So you mutually agreed that when you went to New York, you would break up. It was for the best.

“Am gonna phone Jax, tell him am not coming in today, and we are gonna spend our last day together, just me and you alright” you nodded into his chest before pulling away to make you both some tea to put into a flask. You then decided to make some breakfast like you normally did, and take it down to the beach for one last beach breakfast.

You both walked quietly hand in hand down to your usual spot on the beach. There was a hint of sadness in the air, and you were afraid that if you spoke you would just burst into tears, so you stayed quiet. Chibs laid out the blanket for you both and you sat down on it, pulling out the breakfast rolls and the tea from the small basket. Chibs was the first to break the silence.

“A just wanna say, these last 2 years have undoubtedly been the best of ma life Y/N, ye have made me the happiest man alive” You turned to look at him and saw he was barely keeping it together.

“I never thought I would fall in love with you Filip, I tried not to, but I knew the minute you dropped me home after our first date, I was in love with you” A lone tear escaped his eye and he angrily swiped it away.

You heard the rumble of bikes before you saw them, and when you turned around you saw the Sons walking down to where you and Chibs sat.

“A hope ye don’t mind, they wanted to say goodbye” you nodded at Chibs before squeezing his hand and standing up to greet the men. You never thought a goodbye to them would be hard either, but by the end of all the hugging and the goodbyes, there was not a dry eye to be seen.

“Come on lass, let’s get ye home ti get some rest before your flight in the morning” You said one last final goodbye to the Sons, the men that had all become your close friend, and headed back to your house with Chibs.

“I need to finish packing, can you help?” you asked Chibs. You packed pretty much everything in your house except of course the furniture, and your phone charger, toothbrush and hairbrush as you would need them in the morning. You packed the picture of you and Chibs, and the picture of you and the rest of the MC. You wanted them as a reminder of how much you were loved.

The rest of the day was spent with you both curled up on your sofa, just cuddling and reliving old memories. There were lots of tears, laughter, silence and more tears.

“Ye know, I will always love ye lass” Chibs reached out his hand and moved your hair from your eyes. “A have seen a lot of sad stuff, but what am feeling now is the saddest I’ve ever felt in ma life” Chibs was not hiding the fact he was upset anymore. All you could do to answer him was press your tear soaked lips onto his.

“Can we go to bed? I need to feel you against me one last time” Chibs nodded and you stood up and lead him to your shared bedroom which was basically empty besides the bed and a chest of drawers. You slowly undressed, and climbed into bed to wait for your boyfriend. Everything you both did at this point was full of sadness. Chibs gently grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you passionately.

“God am gonna miss these lips” he whispered against them.

“Please make love to me Filip” and he did. He did until the early hours of the morning before you both fell asleep in each others arms.

Your alarm went off at 6am, to indicate you had to get up. You woke up and instantly remembered that this morning was the last time you would ever see your boyfriend. He stirred beside you and opened his eyes and gave you a small smile. You could see he was thinking the same thing. Your flight was at 9am so you needed to leave soon to make it to the airport in plenty of time.

“I’ll drive ye love” Chibs said as he picked up the keys to your car that you drove to Charming in.  

“No, if you come with me to the airport, there is a chance I won’t ever get on that plane” He tried to protest but you put your hand up to silence him. “Please, the goodbye is already going to be hard Filip, just let me drive myself” you pleaded with him. He reluctantly agreed.

“Again, thank you for the last 2 years, they really have been amazing” Chibs said as he pulled you into him for one last hug. “A know ye will kick ass in New York, and am really proud of ye”.

With one last final squeeze, one last final kiss, and one last final ‘I love you’ and a lot of tears you picked up your bags and suitcase and your car keys and left the man you have shared your left with for the last 2 years, the man you fell in love with, the man who owned your heart standing at the door heartbroken. Before you drove off, you turned to look at him and blew him a kiss, before leaving your past behind. Even though your heart was broken and the tears wouldn’t stop falling, a part of you was excited for the new chapter of your life.

[thearcana-junkie]

“I Can’t Hurt Them Again”

Summary: My take on Julian’s route starting from where he dumps you at the docks to the very end.

Warrnings// !!!Lot’s Of ANGST!! No Comfort!!! MAJOR SPOILERS FOR; Asra’s route, Julians route, and the overall game lore.

Pairing; Julian X Reader. Past Asra X Reader.

——————————————————————————-

Though neither you nor Julian had known each other long, merely a few weeks, but something about him was so familiar. It was comforting. It was probably why it hurt so bad to loose him

It started a few months ago, Asra had just left you alone at the shop. After reading for the Countess Nadia you gained another unwanted visitor who you swiftly hit over the head with a near by vase. After another visit or two you gained some more information on your red headed wanted doctor friend. He was wanted for a crime he may or may not have committed, however, you had a gut feeling he was innocent so you both sat out to prove his innocents (Or guiltiness Julian insisted on reminding) On your ‘adventure’ with the doctor you found yourselves in steamy situation on numerous occasions. They all ended the same way, you always had more important things to do.

Julian pressed against the old metal fencing, your hand carefully yet firmly pressing into his wound on his abdomen. All while watching him squirm and flush above you.

No. we have to prove his innocents.

Mouthed on each other in the library of the palace, two bodies having been quickly squeezed between bookcases under the thought of guards coming. Turned out it was just Malak outside the window.

No, we have to deal with the magical forces at hand.

Most recently, being asked by Julian for you to bite him while in Mezlinka’s bed together.

No! We have to save the world first!

For a moment you wished that the world could survive on its own, that it didn’t need you or Julian, That you could both disappear together. Just for a little while of course.

You didn’t think your silent wish would ever come true, that is until that morning when Julian ran you around the town under the assumption “I think we should talk.” A first your heart had fluttered, It was clear you both were more then friends but neither of you brought it up in conversation afraid of the answers from the other. Was he going to bring it up? Was he going to ask you to make it official?!

The last thing you expected was to be where you were now, Sitting on the docks beside each other in tense silence. The whole day had passed in fast chaos, but at least during the chaos you were both speaking and happy. Julian seems far from ‘happy’ at the moment. “Ah, It seems I’ve wasted the whole day away without talking about what i brought you out to talk about.” He laughed nervously, there was no cheerfulness behind his forced smile, just pain. You started to doubt what you thought he wanted to talk about, something you were sure about earlier. “It’s fine! I had a lot of fun hanging out with you Julian” You smiled at him. Julian’s heart clenched painfully in guilt for what he was about to say. It was going to hurt, this you could tell.

“What we are— Whatever this is... It can’t continue, It has to stop here. I’m sorry MC.”

Julian couldn’t bring himself to look up, instead his locked his gaze with his feet like they owed him money or something, his feet that hung over the docks just above the water. Oh how he thought about how easy it would be to jump into the ink colored liquid and never resurface, it would have been a whole hell of a lot easier then listening to your broken whisper of “what...? why...?” Julians jaw clenched as tight as he grip on the non-to-sturdy wood he sat on, he was prepare for you to yell or hit him but what he got was so much worse.

“No.”

Julian’s head whipped towards you, “Excuse me?” He asked, a little more confused then hurt at this point.”No. Julian I am NOT going to let you do this by yourself. We’re proving your innocence together—“ “I’m not innocent!” Julian said, he meant to make himself seem angry figuring you’d definitely leave if he yelled at you. Scared you. Then you’d be safe from him for good. “You don’t know that!” You said, your own voice coming out a little louder, a little bit more whinier. “I know that! I can feel it in my gut, I’ve done something horrible i can tell. I may not have been guilty for the counts death but I’m guilty for something else just as bad, I know I am.” Julian stood, you stood as well.

This carried on, going back and forth until you were all but begging him to let you help, to stay with you. Each time he’d give you the same answers, “I’m dangerous!” Or “I’ll hurt you!” until you couldn’t take it anymore and finally cave. “Julian you cant!”

Don’t say it

“Why can’t I!?” He snapped back, his appearance said he was furious but his eyes said he was silently screaming inside.

Please gods, don’t say it.

“Because... Because I love you...” You whispered, eyes so full of sadness and dull hope for him to just stay and love you back.

You said it...

Julian was salient for a moment, his back to you from previously trying to walk away.

“I don’t love you...” His voice was like a cold, quiet, dagger that stabbed your chest.You stood there stunned while he walked away discreetly wiping his face from the tears that started falling the moment when you proclaimed your feelings for him. The same moment he knew exactly what he had to say to get you to leave, a blatant lie to himself.

It’s wasn’t until you arrived at the shop seeing Asra had arrived home early that it hit you full force like a stack of bricks.

“Hey MC! Where have you been.” He began wiggling his eyebrows only for his face to drop when he noticed your distressed face. With a hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your sobs, your eyes squeezed closed while hot tears left them. You heard Asra come over as fast as his feet could carry him, you felt his tight embrace. Asra was terrified, he hadn’t seen you like this since the last time you got your memories back and he had to erase them again. Oh how he prayed that wasn’t the case this time. “He left!” You let out. Loud sob that honestly shocked the white haired man yet also relieved him. Just as he was about to question you, you continued. “Julian left me! He doesn’t love me back.” You cried so loudly it felt like your lungs burned. Asra sighed as he quietly cursed that red-headed doctor for ever making you hurt.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

A few days had passed since that night, or maybe it was a few weeks. You couldn’t remember anymore. Lately you’d been spending your nights at the rowdy raven in small hope you’d run into Julian but you were never that lucky, plus Asra didn’t let you drink at home. Asra.... You hadn’t had a conversation with him since the night you sobbed yourself to sleep in his arms, weather from embarrassment or simply from the lack of wanting human communication, you couldn’t tell. In fact you’d been so distant that you’d stopped working on that case for Nadia, Asra was thought despite him trying to hide it from you.

On this particular night, you over heard some of the regulars (Which you’d now become part of) talking about Julian, mainly about how they hadn’t seen him in a long while. One thing though did peak your interest though.

“I heard Devorak got himself captured in the library of the palace because of that damn bird of his yapping to loud.”

They weren’t wrong. Malak hadn’t shut up about you since the night Julian came back without you. “MC? Where?” Malak had asked while tilting his head.

“Their gone...” Julian answered quietly as he ran a hand over his wet face to try to clear his mind.

“Get!” Malak yelled at Julian.

“No! their not coming back, Their safer wherever they are...” Julian sighed.

That very next day Julian had sneaked back into the library to look for more information. He couldn’t piece the puzzle together no matter how much he tried, he found himself thinking about how you could have easily solved this by now. Malak waited outside the open window flapping loudly. “MC! Need them!! NOW! Julian! Julian!! Need MC Now!!” Malak cawed louder and louder to the point Julian had yelled back at him. That’s what got him caught and taken to the palace prison. He sat there in his cell thinking over overthink he had done, specifically the pained expression you had when he told you he had to end what was going on.

“MC? I heard Nadia talking about treason between them and Julian Devorak.” A guard mildly chit chatted with another at the door

“Yeah? I heard that too. And that their set to hang with Dr Devorak per Coutess’ order.” Another Guard added to the conversation.

Oh no.

————————————————————

The bells ringing is what woke you up enough to realize you had over slept. With a sickening jolt you arose with a headache quickly. You paid no mind to the pain as you ran all the way to the coliseum, you got there in record time and pushed passed the crowd. You ignored the calling of your name from Mezlinka, Portia, and Asra as you made your way to the front. Just as Julian came into sight, both your eyes locked together. Metal closed hands grasped your tightly. “Ah! His accomplice! Isn’t it fitting they come to be tried together.” Vasomil smiled. “More like, come to be hung together.” Valdemar cocked their head side with a smile.

“No! They had nothing to do with it!” Julian yelled at the court from where he stood on the wooden make-shift platform, a rope around his neck. The very same platform you were being led to at the moment.

Once on the platform they tightened the rope around your neck apparently already prepared for your appearance. “Julian...” You looked up at him standing beside you.”Why would you come here!?” Julian snarled at you, his face softening when he saw the pure terror in your eyes. “I don’t want to die.” You whimpered as tears threatened to spill. “Your not going to.” Julian said with a voice filled with something like determination. The optioned looked slim here for a chance of your escape let alone yours AND Julian.

Asra had finally pushed his way through the crowd. “Nadi! Mc’s Innocent!!” He yelled up at her desperately. “How do you intend to prove that?!” Nadia almost snarled.

Asra panicked and said the only thing he could think of. “They were dead, Remember!?” Asra screamed over the crowd.

Nadia’s eyes widened, you could see something snap inside her. “Stop!” Nadia yelled as he came to stand.

Though your own eye’s were wide like plates from the new information, somehow everything started to darken to the point it went black.

The last thing you saw was Julian trying to catch you as you fell.

The last thing you heard was your name followed by Vastomil. “Hang him! He’s trying to escape!!” Followed by a sickening snap of bone.

——————————————————————-

Your eyes fluttered open, you were on an island. One with red dirt, a bird man stood beside you, everything else to foggy to see. You recognized the figure almost instantly. “T-The hanged man?” You asked softly causing the bird to almost smile and laugh. “Exactly, Your smart MC. Speaking of which, you should be getting your memories back now.” He almost hummed as he stared at you with beady eyes, and just as quickly as he came he was gone.

The fog cleared enough for you to see another island with a street lamp on it. The words on the signs were jumbled and ever changing. Your focus changed to the two people standing there, One the Hanged man and the other Julian.

“Who are you.. Bird man?!” Julian asked. “You don’t remember me?” The bird smiled with his arms crossed. “I... Your... Your the one who gave me the mark.” Julian slowly pecked the pieces together while you tried to call out to him only to find you couldn’t speak.

“Precisely, And you Julian have been lying to yourself. You didn’t kill the count, Did you?” The raven asked.

“No.... No, I was locked in my office in the basement.” Julian said, more memories flooded back to him as they did you. Though yours not as comforting as you remember the pain of flames eating you alive

“Why?” The hanged man asked, it seemed he already knew the answer but was coaxing Julian to remember.

“Because I had come down with the plague... I was dying! I remember! I remember...” Julian fell quiet as he looked down.

“MC?” The raven hummed.

“MC... They died, They died during the plague because of me. Oh gods I didn’t see it in time and they died because I couldn’t find a cure.” Julian looked like he had just seen his dog run over. While you stood there remember your own death over and over in your head. Falling onto the streets when the plague overcame you, how could he not know? How did he not notice you dying in front of him...

“Julian.” The raven called his attention which was granted “You hung in the coliseum. Now I’m going to give you two options.” The raven stated coldly. Now it became clear why you couldn’t speak, Julian had to make this choice himself.

“Your first choice is; You can come back to life with your old memories but not your mark and fight the devil to keep the plague from coming back.” He started, “Or?” Julian asked. “Or you can stay here with me in the afterlife and I will make sure the plague stops before it starts.” The raven headed man finished.

Julian thought it over for a moment. “If i die... MC will be safe... But if I go back, They’ll want to help me fight the devil and they might be killed because of me again....” Julian repeated his optioned out loud. You prayed he knew what to choose, what you wanted, that somehow he’d choose to—

“I’ll stay.” Julian said sternly. “You can have longer to choose if you’d like.” The hanged man said softly as he glance over at you who stood there trembling on the other island. “I don’t need more time to choose... I don’t— no i cant let them die because of me again. I wont let it happen. This way they wont get hurt...” Julians voice fell off once he followed the ravens gaze to... you? Your eyes locked once more, his gaze hardened. “I’m staying.” He confirmed once more. The raven nodded before disappearing.

Your islands crashed together, as soon as it did you hugged Julian as tightly as you could. “NO! Come back please.” You sobbed. “Now Love... You know I cant do that.” He sighed as he laid his head on yours for one last time. “I lied... When I said I didn’t love you... You know that right?” Julian chocked up softly. You nodded silent. “I love you more then i could even explain. That’s why I’m staying.” He sighed as tears started to stream down his face, You shook your head repeatedly. “Do me a favor... Okay?” He asked as he pulled you out of the hug, he had a itching feeling you wouldn’t be around much longer. You swallowed and wiped you eyes, you wanted to be strong for him. You had to be strong for him. You nodded not trusting your voice.

“Find someone else. Girl, guy, whatever just find someone who’s good to you. Someone who spoils you rotten and can cook. And tell Portia I miss her and that i want her to take care of you and Maz.A-And tell Asra, I’m sorry.” He smiled painfully as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I love you Julian...” You whimpered one last time, “I love you to MC.” He smiled one last time. A genuine smile as he kissed you softly.

You clung to him in the kiss. The feeling of his warmth and firmness slowly fading away as you closed your eyes. You weren’t going to break your promise even if it killed you.

[momscookingthebooks]

Chapter Reveal

Title: Payback

Series: Vigilante Justice #1

Author: Kristin Harte

Publication Date: January 25, 2018

#ChapterReveal #Payback #NewRelease #VigilanteJustice #KristinHarte 

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36549869-payback

Synopsis:

In Justice, Colorado, the Kennards run everything, including the only big business in the area. Their sawmill employs most of the town, and the Kennard brothers live up to a long family history of keeping their neighbors and coworkers safe—until a motorcycle club comes to town and starts causing trouble. Big trouble. The kind that ends in funerals. The kind no law enforcement can help them with.  He carries the burden of protecting an entire town Being the oldest Kennard brother, I’ve got a centuries-old promise to uphold—run the family business to give the townspeople jobs and the sort of security they can only find in Justice. When a motorcycle club blows that plan apart, I’ll do anything to make them aware that they picked the wrong town to target. As a former Green Beret, I know just how to sabotage an enemy. The only weakness in my armor is my obsession with a five-foot-nothing blonde who unknowingly holds my heart in her hands. My attraction to her could cost me my life, but I’d sacrifice it all to save hers.  She owes a debt that could cost her life I’ve spent three years hiding out in Justice and paying off a debt to the Soul Suckers, one they’ve decided to collect whether I’m ready to pay or not. When danger lands on my doorstep, one man jumps in to help. Alder Kennard—former Special Forces soldier and current object of all my fantasies. But the Soul Suckers won’t let a debt go unpaid, and with the price on my head rising every day, it’s only a matter of time until they come back for me. Alder would put his life on the line to save mine, which is something I simply can’t afford.  Everyone has a debt to pay, and the only currency I have left is my body. So when the time comes, I’ll trade my life for his.

Purchase Links:

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Amazon: smarturl.it/PaybackKHarte

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Chapter 1

“We’ve got a problem, boss.”

If I hadn’t already been in a foul mood, those words would have gotten me there.

“What is it now?”

“Motorcycle gang up on Widow’s Ridge.” Camden Reese—born and bred in Justice, friend of my youngest brothers, and former Marine sergeant—launched into a speech about his team running into some bikers up by the Hansen property. We’d recently signed a contract with Miss Hansen to harvest eighty acres of dead Ponderosa pine on that hill, so anything getting in our way was definitely a problem. A big one.

As Camden laid out the events of the altercation, I checked over the satellite images of the area on my desk, making notes and marking locations. A star on the house to the west where the elderly Miss Hansen still lived, another to the east on the patch of earth where a trailer sat, all alone. The only two residences up that long, rough stretch of road leading to a drop-off on the far west side.

That rocky piece of land sat just outside the city limits, so things like road maintenance were all but forgotten unless the two residents brought them to my attention. No biker would intentionally ride up such a rutted, gravel road without a reason—too hard on their bike and their face if they were trailing someone else.

“He tried to call out Finn, but I squashed that shit,” Camden said, securing every bit of my attention for the moment. Finn—my second youngest brother, one of a set of twins, and the only Kennard ever to spend time in prison. He was also a recovering addict, and I had vowed to my dad that I’d keep him in recovery and not let him backslide. That had been ten years ago, and I still worried about keeping that vow every fucking day.

“What the fuck was Finn doing on a job?” My brother didn’t work for me except for the occasional project, and I knew for a fact he hadn’t been assigned to the Hansen job.

“He’d driven with me to check in on Miss Hansen. We never made it out there, though, because we ran into the bikers on the way up. One guy said some shit about Finn’s drug days, how they missed him over at the strip club in Rock Falls.”

Jesus. “You get a name?”

“Patch on his vest said Spark.”

“Spark.” I sat back, balancing my chair on two legs. “As in plug?”

Camden blinked, a cocky smile breaking across his face. “Yeah, like plug. I didn’t see the other guy’s name.”

“So Spark knows Finn from what…ten, twelve years ago? He look familiar to you?”

Cam shook his head. “Never seen him in town.”

That caught my attention. Justice was a small town planted squarely between two slightly larger towns, all in the middle of fucking nowhere. People didn’t happen into Justice—they came here for a reason.

And if that reason was named Finn Kennard, Spark and his friend needed to be dealt with and quick. “How’d my brother handle the run-in?”

“Finn ignored the bullshit from Spark. I wasn’t as restrained.”

Not surprising. Cam always did have a bit of a temper. “If the sheriff gets called again on you—”

Camden waved me off. “I knocked his legs out from under him and put him on the ground.

Didn’t even leave a mark, I don’t think. But I made my point.”

“And what point was that?” Not that I needed to ask.

“That Kennard Mills would be harvesting the lumber on that side of the hill, and their club had better not have any business up there. They drove off after Spark picked himself up out of the dirt, the other guy saying something about bigger fish.” Camden frowned. “I recognized the other guy.”

“Local?” I couldn’t think of anyone in Justice who rode with an MC, but I might have missed someone. Three hundred plus people were a lot to keep track of.

“No. He came into the truck stop one night when Leah and I were there for dinner.” He blew out a breath and shifted his weight. An almost unconscious gesture, but one that stood out. Normally almost confident to a fault, Cam suddenly seemed nervous, which meant I wouldn’t like what he had to say.

“Yeah?” I prodded, wondering how a night out with his wife would piss me off.

“Leah noticed something was up when she went to the restroom and came to get me. The asshole had Shye cornered in a back hallway and wasn’t letting her pass.”

The snap of the pencil I’d been holding breaking in two might as well have been a gunshot. “And you let him walk away?”

“I had Leah and Shye looking on. I had to.”

Picturing perfect little Shye—at least ten years my junior and so damn sweet, every one of her smiles would give you a toothache—watching as I kicked the shit of some asshole was about as unappealing as a thought could get. I probably would’ve wanted to do the same as Camden and let the guy walk with a warning if I’d been there. I wouldn’t have, but I’d have wanted to.

Because I wanted her, and the idea of Shye being scared of me made my gut sink like a rock. I needed to stop thinking about Shye Anderson. An impossibility as of late, which directly correlated to why my mood had been so foul all day.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead and sitting deeper into my chair, bringing all four legs back to the floor. “All right. So they rode off after you knocked Spark to the ground. Any indication they’d keep hassling you or come back for Finn?”

He shrugged. “Not really, though you never know with these types of guys.”

Lawless, clan-like, arrogant. Yeah. You never knew a damn thing with them. “Did you recognize the club logo?”

“Definitely the Soul Suckers.”

Of course. I’d heard they’d added a clubhouse not too far over the county line to the west. I probably wouldn’t have thought twice if I’d seen their bikes on the highway through town or heading toward the new restaurant on Main Street. I would now, though.

“Might be time to set the club straight on what they can and can’t do as they ride through Justice. I’ll talk to Deacon, see if he knows anyone. Head back to the ridge, and get the Hansen site plot worked out so we can start cruising and marking trees. This might be our last big harvest before the rains come, and I want to take advantage of the summer weather while we have it.”

“We’ll get it done.”

“Good. And if you see Bishop on the mill floor, have him call me.”

Camden nodded, then left without another word, leaving me to stew over this new mess.

Fucking messes all over the place lately, it seemed.  

I looked over my satellite images again, tracing roads and logging paths I’d known my whole life. Acres of Widow’s Ridge pine forest stared back at me, a mottled brown and green landscape. Half the trees stood dead or dying, a sign of the mountain beetle infestation that had nearly bankrupted my late father and destroyed Kennard Mills. But the bug that had nearly killed us had instead left us flush with jobs and cash. The droughts hadn’t stopped this mill, the industry collapse hadn’t either, and the fucking plague of beetles killing the forests around us had actually been a boon instead of a death knell. Everyone in Justice had enjoyed the bonuses beating our sales plans every month brought, and no fucking bikers would make us end that streak. I had a town to employ.

But Justice, Colorado was more than a town to me—it was my responsibility.

The place my ancestors had set down roots. Where they tended to each and every resident over the years, giving families time to grow good, strong roots. Kennard men had run Justice like a homestead for nearly two centuries with the mill as the central business fueling everything else, and I’d live up to the legacy set before me as the oldest living Kennard. That meant making sure people had jobs, food, shelter, and that they felt safe.

Another thing bikers wouldn’t be taking away from us, even though it seemed as if they were trying just that.

An annoying, robotic song interrupted my thoughts. The words “Bishop Kennard”—name of my closest brother who also happened to be my VP of sales and marketing—flashed on the screen of my phone as it played that stupid song again. I swiped to answer and brought the device to my ear.

“Bishop.”

“Camden said you wanted me,” he said, not bothering with a greeting.

“We’ve got trouble on Widow’s Ridge.”

“I heard. Finn all right?” Because, as the second oldest Kennard brother, our family would be the first thing on Bishop’s mind. As it should be.

“Camden thinks so. Let’s run by the bar tonight and be sure, though. And I’ll need you to check in on Miss Hansen—make sure she’s okay out there.”

“Sounds good. I’ll call as soon as we hang up. Anything else?”

“Sell some fucking lumber, Bishop.”

“On it, boss. I’ll be ready to go at six.”

I tossed the phone back onto my desk, the maps snagging my attention again.

One spot in particular, actually, and not the one belonging to Miss Hansen. I ran a finger over the east side of the hill, circling the little trailer on a barren, flat piece of rock. Just outside the city limits, it technically sat beyond my protective net, but Shye Anderson lived in that trailer. New girl in town at only three years since she moved to the area, waitress at the truck stop over in Rock Falls, and the only woman I’d ever met who could drive me mad with frustration and desire all at once.

I’d been ultra-aware of Shye since I first met her. Slightly obsessed, really. The girl captivated me; stole all my attention with her sweet little smile and never let me go. It didn’t hurt that she looked like a damn angel—long, blond hair and big, dark eyes, a tiny little body that I wanted to get my hands on more than anything else. Sweet as honey, that one, but she lived up to her name. She blushed and stuttered around me, avoided my eyes when I tried to catch her gaze. If I pushed too much, she ran, so I held back. Made myself available but waited for her to come to me.

Which is how I ended up eating at the truck stop five nights a week—all on Shye’s shifts. I’d had to up my workouts to keep from getting soft on all the grease and baked goods, but seeing that smile every night was worth it. The coffee—man, that was a harder pill to swallow. How a restaurant could have such bad coffee—especially one based out of a truck stop—was beyond me. I drank cup after cup of the foul brew so she’d come to my table more often to pour me refills. Without the coffee, I didn’t get much time with Shye, so I suffered.

And when I worked? I sent my guys in there. Shye had no family in Justice, so I made sure everyone understood they were to treat her as they would a Kennard. Making my men see her as mine kept them watchful around her. Hell, I paid Bishop to eat his lunches there so he could keep an eye on her, and everyone on my team headed that way at least once a day if I had to go out of town. They mocked me relentlessly for chasing her around like a damned puppy, but I didn’t give a shit. I needed to know she was happy and safe. That she had everything she needed…even if she wasn’t ready to willingly take things from me yet. We’d get there. Three years I’d waited for her to come around, and she would. Eventually. I just had to figure out the right plan.

As I pondered honey-blond hair, sugary smiles, and how many times I could use the excuse of working on the ridge to stop and see her at her place, my phone rang again—Camden, this time.  

I swiped to answer and hit the button for speakerphone. “If you tell me we have another problem, I’m going to toss a grenade in your truck.”

“So I shouldn’t tell you we’ve got a fire on the mountain?”

Motherfucker. The trouble with harvesting the blue-stained wood left behind by the mountain beetle infestation was the trees needed to cure standing for a number of years. But dead trees meant dry trees, and with the droughts of the past few years and the mild winters we’d had, that meant trouble. Big, dry, tinder-type trouble. A single lightning bolt could ignite an inferno, while a forest fire could destroy the whole damn town.

And apparently, we had one to deal with.

“Where?” I grabbed my keys and pressed the mill-floor alarm to get the team’s attention.

“Eastern slope. Just past the Hansen property.”

My steps stumbled, then sped. “That’s by Shye’s place.”

An engine roared in the background. “I’m already on my way there. Two minutes out.”

She could be hurt in two minutes. Dead. Jesus fuck, I was too far away. “Drive faster.”

I hung up and stormed down onto the mill floor. My team stood ready, looking at me expectantly, ready to fight the fires we knew could ruin everything we’d all built here.

“Fire just east of the Hansen site. Let’s get two water trucks up the eastern side of the ridge and send one up to the west side to be safe.” I met the eyes of Gage Shepherd, former Navy SEAL like Bishop and current heavy machinery engineer of Kennard Mills. “It’s close to Shye’s place.”

Without another word, Gage began issuing orders to the team. He understood the severity of the situation from every angle—the loss of our product, the potential for destruction in the town, and the possibility that the woman I had my eye on could be in danger. He’d get shit done for me.

As Gage loaded the water trucks with oxygen tanks and medical equipment—something that made my gut churn—his dog Rex trotted after him, looking as if he was headed for a joyride instead of into a fire. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d been on site at a fire, though. Gage never went anywhere without Rex.

While Gage made sure the team knew where to go and what to do, I raced to my truck. My heart pounded as I started the engine and peeled out of my spot, heading for the ridge where smoke was beginning to turn the sky black above the tree line. Fuck, if Shye was up there, if she was hurt—

I didn’t get to finish my thought because my phone rang right as I turned onto the highway heading toward the mountain. Camden again.

“Tell me good news.”

“She’s not here,” Camden said, sounding slightly out of breath. “It’s her trailer on fire, though.”

“The water trucks are on the way.”

“Don’t think they’ll do any good for her, to be honest, but we need them for the tree line. It’s so dry up here, a single spark could set the whole mountain on fire.”

Confirming my earlier thoughts. Fuck. I yanked the wheel sideways, making a sharp turn onto the road that would take me up to Shye’s place, looking over all the dead, brown pine on the hillside as I flew over the rutted, gravelly road. “Gage had the team rolling out right behind me. I’m four minutes out, though.”

“Want me to call the fire department in Rock Falls?”

Wouldn’t do any good at that point, which was why Kennard Mills had as many water hauling trucks as we did. “No use, though you’d better call the sheriff.”

“That useless piece of shit? What for?”

Useless wasn’t the term I’d use—corrupt sounded better for the county sheriff we were forced to deal with. I didn’t have time to correct Camden, though. “He’ll throw a tantrum if he’s not informed. Knowing him, he won’t come out to investigate anyway. Just make the call.”

“Yeah, got it…hang on.” Voices yelled in the background, and the sound of Camden moving fast created static on the line.

“Cam?”

“We’ve got a problem.”

That phrase spoken about my girl’s place made me want to growl my frustration to the universe. “What fucking problem?”

“There are motorcycle tracks in the dirt around her property. Lots of them.”

Rage unlike anything I’d felt exploded in my chest. “Call the sheriff and put the word out—anyone sees a fucking Soul Sucker in Justice, I want to know about it.”

I hung up and threw my phone across the bench seat before taking the switchback turn way faster than I should have. Not that the worry burning in my gut had anything to do with me—Shye owned that ache.

Shye may not have known it, but she was mine. I’d do whatever it took to protect her.

And if this fucking motorcycle club had threatened my girl?

I’d gut them and leave their bodies for the predators.

About the Author:

Kristin Harte started off as a chemistry major in college but somehow ended up writing romances featuring ex-military heroes and the women who knock them to their knees…literally and figuratively. She likes drinking in the shade, snuggling under a warm blanket on a cold evening, and researching how to blow things up. Her children know nothing of what she writes, and her husband just hopes he’s not at their Chicago-ish home the day the government shows up to confront Kristin about her Google search history. When not writing good men doing bad things, Kristin can be found writing paranormal romance as Ellis Leigh or co-writing naughty novellas as London Hale.

Author Links:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/kristin_harte

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pg/authorkristinharte

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17304863.Kristin_Harte

Web: http://www.kristinharte.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kristin_harte/

[paulduncanmcgarrity]

7 times history was like comedy and one time comedy made history

We are told that those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it, but as a comedian I am also told that the rule of three requires a premise to be reinforced twice before undermining expectations with the punchline. By this logic, and in a world where people are apparently sick of experts, WWIII will eventually happen, but on the plus side it will be unexpectedly hilarious.

Whilst this is an example of what may come there are actually many lessons the budding stand-up comedian, humourist or ‘funniest person in the pub’ can learn from history. These lessons might not make you funnier, but a surprising number of them can help you keep any deaths you might suffer within the realm of the metaphorical. So here they are 7 times history was like performing comedy.

1) Hecklers can be murder

A rowdy crowd can be the bane of a comedian’s life. It doesn’t take much to set off the drunken numpty who’s at an ill-advised office Christmas party. Especially as he’d much rather be trying to bang Tina from accounts than listen to any of your jokes. Once you’ve woken that drunken, horny, heckling genie it can be almost impossible to stuff him back in his lamp. Not that this is even the worst possibility, one tiny miscalculation over the mood of a Hen do can turn a fun night performing comedy into ‘you’ve ruined Trisha’s special night you Bastard!’ However, we can take some solace, and possibly a big slice of warning, from the poor crowd work of one Captain Porteus. On the 14th April 1736 in the Grassmarket in Edinburgh, Porteus found himself facing a very grumpy group of Scots. The reason for their foul mood was the execution by hanging of a popular smuggler. Porteus decided to try and quell the riotous crowd by ordering his men to fire over their heads. This may have been a very successful technique if it hadn’t been for the minor detail of the four storey high houses behind the crowd, several residents of which suddenly and fatally found that their bodies had acquired new ventilation points. Captain Porteus was arrested, convicted of murder and sentenced to death. The Prime minister, Walpole, tried to defuse the situation (like any good MC would) by moving to get Porteus’ death sentence commuted. Big mistake, the Scots broke into the prison where he was being held and hung him themselves. If nothing else this makes a tricky corporate gig look a little more manageable (but only a bit).

2) Don’t be afraid to bring the house down

If a venue is wrong for whatever reason it can impact on the quality of a night. Whether it is too much light on the audience, not enough light on the stage, sound issues, height of the stage etc , it can all cause the gig to tank. The Lord Chamberlin’s Men (the company of actors that Shakespeare was a part of) had run into trouble of a slightly more extreme nature, they’d been barred from their venue, The Theatre, over a question of ownership. Rather than sulk though the actors got proactive and decided to change the venue so that it better suited their needs. That is to say that in 1599 they waited until the land owner was out of town and they stole the building, shipped the materials south of the river and used them in the construction of the Globe. Now if they are willing to do that, then you can ask to have the chairs moved forward a bit and the lights dimmed don’t you think?

3) Everyone finds their own way to deal with critics

Take Pope John XII for example. During his run in the big Holy sparkle chair he got such cutting reviews as ‘a robber, a murderer, and incestuous person, unworthy to represent Christ upon the pontifical throne’ 2 stars. Or this from Liuprand of Cremona ‘he did not celebrate Matins at the canonical hours nor did he make the sign of the cross’, now I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it sounds like a problem with timing, maybe he was rushing and messed up the punchline of the prayer? Whatever it was, it led to John being temporarily deposed by Emperor Otto I, however it didn’t last, as Otto had to return home so his army could plant their crops (actual reason). Once they left, John returned and castrated or cut the tongues out of everyone who had spoken out against him in his absence. From that point on it was 4 and 5 star reviews across the board.

4) Some National stereotypes exist for a reason and might be older than you think

The Irish are drunk, the Germans are efficient, Scots like to be involved in the extra judicial execution of military officers. These stereotypes often form the basis of many jokes (many of them lazier than a sloth that’s employed a butler) and some seem like they might have been plucked from the air, but not all. When the Normans landed in England in 1066 they brought with them partially constructed Castles which they put together on arrival and used as bases from which to launch the invasion. This may not seem too remarkable until you remember that the Normans (or North man) were descended from the Vikings. Then it hits you, the Scandinavians have always loved a bit of flat pack. In fact if you look at the Bayeux Tapestry there is a panel depicting a group of knights desperately combing the beach around their landing site to try and find the Allen key that one of them had dropped.

5) Archaeology is sometimes just really deadpan observational comedy Talking of Vikings, a stick with runes on was recently found and when translated it read ‘I love that woman but she is married to another. I am that woman’s friend’. This means we now have physical evidence that the ‘Friend Zone’ is at least 1000 years old.

6) Pay your acts (Pretorian Guard) More a lesson for promoters here. It’s important to pay people for the job they’ve done, especially if you’ve already agreed a fee. The comedy world is full of rumours and stories of acts getting short changed at the last minute by a chancer who thinks they can get away with it. Well these unscrupulous buggers are luckier than they might think, pulling a fast one on the mentally unbalanced waifs and strays of comedy is one thing, trying the same thing on a hulking mass of muscles and pointy objects is a different matter entirely. This is the situation that would be Roman Emperor Didius Julianus found himself in. The previous incumbent of the Imperial throne, Pertinax, had made the tactical error of asking the Pretorian Guard (the Emperor’s supposed bodyguards) to do their job. Incensed by the idea that anyone would ask a solider to act like a solider they decided to step right outside of their job description and killed him. This left them in the very powerful position of being able to pick their own boss and getting paid to do so. As such, a bidding war broke out, which was won by Didius when he promised to pay 25,000 sesterces to each soldier (about 10,000 men in total). This was such an insane amount of money that he might as well have offered to invent a time machine and take all of the Pretorian Guard to Alton Towers for the day and promise to buy them all ice cream too. Unsurprisingly he was unable pay up and 66 days later he was murdered. Dodgy dealers, you have been warned.

7) Dicks have always been a winner

They’re on hills, cave walls, statues, mosaics, paintings. Romans even used to put tiny metal ones on their children to protect them from the evil eye! Dicks are, always have been and will always be fascinating to Humans. If in doubt- dick jokes.

And now for one gig that’s pretty historic. 1) 18th March, Queens Head Pub, 2.30pm, £5

As far as I can tell ‘Ask an Archaeologist’, might be the first ever stand-up comedy, archaeology show performed in a pop-up Viking drinking hall on the roof of an east London pub. A ticket link can be found at www.paulduncanmcgarrity.co.uk along with information for other dates on the ‘Paul Duncan McGarrity vs the Minor-Tour’ tour. For more information and a (apparently highly addictive and frustrating) weekly Archaeology guessing game follow me @PaulDuncanMcG on twitter. Ok, thank you, bye!