HIS BABY’S KEEPER Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  HIS BABY’S KEEPER: Desert Marauders MC copyright @ 2017 by Evelyn Glass and E-Book Publishing World Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

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  HIS BABY’S KEEPER: Desert Marauders MC

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  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

  DIRTY DADDY: Night Titans MC

  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

  SAMSON’S BABY: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

  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

  Epilogue

  OTHER BOOKS BY EVELYN GLASS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  HIS BABY’S KEEPER: Desert Marauders MC

  By Evelyn Glass

  I’LL KILL ANYONE WHO LAYS A FINGER ON MY DAUGHTER.

  Someone hurt my baby girl.

  And I’ll tear down heaven and earth to find out who it was.

  But I need someone to watch Ella while I’m on the warpath.

  And the sexy social worker fits the bill nicely.

  Mona thought she was knocking on my door for a simple welfare check.

  But when she stepped inside, she stepped into my world.

  And the rules are a lot different here.

  Because I won’t be content just to watch her care for my daughter.

  Not until I have a taste of her for myself.

  She can try and resist me with every excuse in the book.

  I’m too rough.

  Too brutal.

  Too close to the edge of the law.

  She may be right.

  But none of that’s going to stop me.

  I’m coming for what’s mine.

  And I won’t leave until I’ve had her mouth.

  Claimed her body.

  And put a baby in her belly.

  Chapter One

  I ran my hands through my hair and inhaled deeply. I knew this part of the job was going to be far from fun, but I didn’t bet on it sending me into paroxysms of panic as soon as I was parked outside the door.

  I reached for my phone, and found my fingers trembling a little—seriously? Was I being that much of a baby about this? I was supposed to have the safety of the kid at the forefront of my brain, not my own stupid sense of fear or panic. This was what I had trained for. I had nothing to be worried about—I just needed to pull myself together and get myself in hand. I dialed Amanda’s number, and held my cell to my ear, drumming my fingers distractedly on the steering wheel of the car.

  I mean, it didn’t help that my first job had come on the same day that I heard that my apartment was being fumigated. I’d known it was coming, and yet I’d been too distracted to set myself up with a place to stay. I was looking at forking out cash for a hotel room, just because I’d been too busy to shoot off a text to one of my friends and ask for a couch. Idiot.

  The phone rang a couple of times before she picked up, and as soon as I heard her voice down the line, I felt myself begin to relax. There was just something about Amanda, something that made me feel safe and at home and like I could take on anything. That’s what made her such a good supervisor, I guess, especially for work like this—if you couldn’t convince the staff that you were on their side no matter what, then the whole thing sort of went up in smoke, didn’t it?

  “Hello?” She answered her phone expectantly, sounding at once as though she had been waiting for my call the whole day.

  “Hey, it’s Mona.” I ducked my head so I could peer out the window and towards the house. “I just wanted to double-check that I had the right place. And the right details.”

  “You know you can’t call me every time you go out on call,” Amanda reminded me gently, and I nodded, forgetting for a second that she couldn’t see me.

  “I know, I know,” I agreed. “I just want to be sure. It’s my first time, cut me some slack.”

  “Okay,” Amanda replied, and I heard her rustling about at her end of the line. “You should be at forty-eight Linwood Lane. The child you’re visiting is Ella, and you’re just doing a general check-up. The father has had some trouble with the cops over the years, and we want to be certain that she’s being taken care of.”

  “Than
k you,” I sighed. I knew I couldn’t put this off any longer. This is what I’d been trained for, and I couldn’t pretend that wasn’t the case any longer.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Amanda asked, concerned. “If you feel like you can’t carry this out, I can find someone else who could cover—”

  “No, no, I’ll be fine,” I cut across her firmly. I wanted to prove myself to her, and running away from my first assignment wasn’t going to make that happen anytime soon.

  “If you’re sure…”

  “What’s his name again? The father?” I asked, pinching my phone between my shoulder and my ear and gathering my stuff.

  “Jasper, but he goes by Jazz,” Amanda answered, and I could hear the hint of incredulity in her voice—she wasn’t very good at hiding it, and I’d known her long enough to understand when she thought she was hearing something intensely stupid.

  “Jazz?” I repeated. “Like the music?”

  “Like the music,” she agreed. “He’s had some checks before, and nothing’s come of it—he’s been pretty good to the rest of the people we’ve sent down over the years, so you shouldn’t have a problem.”

  “What’s his criminal record for, then?” I wondered aloud, then stopped myself. “No, I don’t want to know. I’m heading in now—thanks for talking with me.”

  “Good luck,” Amanda replied, and I could hear her smiling down the phone. Maybe it was pride, maybe it was just relief that she wasn’t going to have to bail out one of her brand-new social workers on her first day.

  I hung up the phone, grabbed my ID, and strung it around my neck. Okay, this wasn’t going to be that bad. He was a nice enough guy, by all accounts, and the little girl was meant to be a sweetheart. I just needed to get myself out of this damn car and go talk to them. So why did it feel as though my ass was pinned to the seat? I grabbed my clipboard and clutched it to my chest protectively, as though I could put that between me and the world and no one would ask any questions.

  It was only my first week on the job, and it had been a pretty steep learning curve. I mean, social work was never going to be an easy line of work—I had known that when I got into it all those years ago. And I had spent long enough tagging along with other social workers to understand that it was okay if things didn’t go exactly to plan as long as the kid was safe.

  I was also reminded that not every parent was as open to doing shit for their child’s wellbeing as we were, and that was unnerving in and of itself. There had been some rough cases I’d borne witness to: fighting, screaming, swearing, parents high off their asses on various pills and potions. But this place—this was nice enough, middle-class and pretty and quiet. Not that that really meant anything, but hey, I could console myself with the fact that everything here looked completely normal.

  Well, that was until I spotted the little girl clambering out of the window and sprinting off across the lawn.

  I wasn’t sure that my instincts would kick in in the event of something bad happening—hell, I wasn’t even certain that I had any instincts in the first place. But as soon as I laid eyes on that little girl tumbling from the window and landing in a little pile on the ground, I was out of the car and on my feet, my blood pumping through my veins as I hurried across the street towards her.

  She was on her feet and off before I had a chance to get to her—but she was on the ground long enough for me to see the blood smeared across her head. Had that come from the fall, or had that been there before? Jesus Christ. The window wasn’t high, but it was high enough that it could do some damage if she’d landed at a funny angle. I gave chase across the lawn, pursuing her as quickly as I could across the damp grass. She disappeared around the back of the house as soon as she saw me, and I called out to her.

  “Please, I’m not going to hurt you!”

  I racked my brain for her name. Ellie? Stella? Ella!

  “Ella!” I called, hoping she’d at least respond to her own name. “Ella, come here!”

  There was a moment of silence, and a few seconds later, the little girl emerged from behind a thick tree trunk that stood about six feet tall at the end of the garden. She observed me for a second, peering at me suspiciously, and I slowly made my way towards her.

  Just as I reached her, I heard a noise from inside the house—a door slamming, making me jump. I turned and found myself face-to-face with a man—one of the most gorgeous men I had ever laid eyes on in my entire life.

  Chapter Two

  The man strode across the lawn towards the two of us, and I stood next to Ella, feeling my knees growing a little weak as he approached. He was stunning, there was no doubt about that. He stood maybe a full foot taller than me, with black hair cut short enough to show off his angular cheekbones and strong jaw. His eyes were dark brown, and he was wearing a grimy wife-beater with a leather biker jacket draped over the top of it, as though he had been in the middle of something else when he was disturbed.

  “Honey,” he crouched down as soon as he reached his daughter, “who hurt you?”

  His face was wracked with pain, and he ran his fingers through his hair in a panic—he didn’t even glance up at me, not even an acknowledgement, as he examined her for any further injuries. He dabbed at the blood on her head and gently took her by the tops of her arms, steadying her. She stared up at him, but didn’t open her mouth. Something had clearly happened here, and I wasn’t totally sure what it was.

  “Hello?” I didn’t want to intervene, but I had to say something. I had been sent out here to do a wellness check, and found the child I was meant to be checking up on falling from a window with an injury to her head, attempting to flee the house. She didn’t seem scared to be in the presence of her father—in fact, after a second or two, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn’t make a sound, but he held her tight then scooped her up into his arms and cradled her close. Finally, he seemed to notice that I was standing there.

  “Hi.” He nodded at me. “I would shake your hand, but…” He nodded down at the little girl in his arms, and I smiled, finding myself relaxing.

  “Yeah, I can see that,” I agreed. “I’m Mona Landing, I’m the social worker who’s been assigned to your case?”

  “Yeah, the agency called and said you would be here.” He jerked his head towards the house. “Do you want to go inside? I want to get her cleaned up.”

  “Do you know what happened?” I asked, and he shook his head as he carried her into the house.

  “I left her in front of the TV watching some cartoons while I went down to the basement to grab something,” he explained. “I was gone for a second, and when I came back, she was gone.”

  “And then you came out here?” I checked, making sure he had his story straight.

  “Yeah, that’s right. Did you see anything else?”

  “When I was in the car I saw her climbing out of the window on the other side of the house,” I replied, and I saw his face turn pale. I could see the pain etched on his face—just hearing this was enough to get him sick with worry.

  “Did she have the cut when she came out of the window?” He clutched her tightly to him, daddy bear, all protective—but I shook my head.

  “I didn’t see,” I admitted. “I chased her back here when I saw her fall out, but that was it.”

  “I have no idea what she was doing.” He peered in at her face as we made our way inside the house. “She’s never usually like this.”

  “Is there anything that could have set her off?” I pressed gently.

  He shrugged, eyebrows raised. “Nothing that I’m aware of. She seemed fine when I went down to the basement.”

  “Right, okay…” I nodded, and made a note on my clipboard. I could see him glance down, as if on instinct, to see what I had written, and I pressed it closer to my chest.

  “I’m so sorry for all this drama,” he apologized as he opened the door for me and ushered me inside. “I promise we’re not normally like this.”

  “Don’t
worry, I have other reports from other social workers at my disposal,” I assured him. “I know this isn’t normal for you guys.”

  “So you’re just here for a routine inspection?” He carefully placing Ella down on the couch. The way he handled her, with such care and gentleness, seemed at odds with the sheer size of him. He stroked her hair away from her face and planted a kiss on her head tenderly. I was having a hard time believing that he had anything to do with her injury or her escape attempt, but I would have to look around before I made my mind up either way.

  “That’s right.” I nodded, peering at Ella. She hadn’t reacted to being brought inside, or plopped down on the cushions of the couch—she was staring at her feet, as though she was trying to keep her mind off of something. I would have to have a talk with her by myself if I could, try and figure out what it was that had her so unsettled.

  “Please, feel free…” He gestured around the place, and I began my inspection of the house—all the while trying to piece together what the hell had happened in here over the last fifteen minutes.

  Chapter Three

  The house had an almost completely open-plan downstairs area, so as I made my way around, I was able to keep a close eye on Jazz and how he acted around his daughter. He vanished into the bathroom for a second and brought out a damp washcloth, and began carefully dabbing away at the cut on her head. He spoke to her softly the whole time—asking about the cartoons she’d been watching, apparently as a way of distracting her from his clean-up. The way he spoke to her, it was comforting, soft, and sweet—but when I went around the back of the couch to inspect her play area, I was stunned at the anger on his face.