Beauty's Breath E-Book

Shan R.K

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Her plight for vengeance will not be deterred, even by the one who owns the last piece of her.

I was once just a beggar on the street, then like all poor girls I met a prince and fell in love. But I didn't get my happily ever after as beauty was the Devil's joke that only the blind could see.

So a twist in my tale I ended up becoming a hunter and executioner, until one day an Enforcer crossed my path. I told him I will destroy him, I did. 
I never lied.
He loves me, but what he doesn't know is that his love for me won't change the direction of my bullet, just the expiration date of our love.

In a world of danger, deceit, and revenge, Beggar and Zero's love is put to the ultimate test. As a hunter and executioner, Beggar's only goal is to avenge the wrongs committed against her. But when she falls for the enforcer, Zero, she's forced to choose between love and justice.

In the small town of Kanla, tensions run high as more young girls become victims of the enemies within. The Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club will stop at nothing to catch those responsible, even if it means taking matters into their own hands.

But when Beggar and Zero find themselves on opposite sides of the law, will their love be enough to save them? Or will they be forced to pay the ultimate price?

Discover the gripping conclusion to Beggar and Zero's story in this thrilling romantic suspense novel.

"My end by your hands, would be like this water touching the moon." Beggar

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now?" Zero "I can give you a hundred why you should." Beggar

Leseprobe

Beauty’s Breath

(The Satan Sniper’s Motorcycle Club)

Book 4

––––––––

By

––––––––

Shan R.K

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

BEAUTY'S BREATH

First edition. January 2, 2020.

Copyright © 2020 Shan R.K.

ISBN: 978-1540126115

Written by Shan R.K.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Beggar

Beggar

Zero

Beggar

Zero

Beggar

Zero

Zero

Beggar

ZERO

Zero

Beggar

Zero

Beggar

Zero

Beggar

Zero

Beggar

Zero

Beggar

Zero

Beggar

Zero

Beggar

Beggar

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Further Reading: Kylie Bray

Also By Shan R.K

About the Author

Dedication

This book has been rewritten and is dedicated to my Grandmother, Marie Valerie Perrett. Her flesh and bones now lay as ash, while her spirit glows within the ones fortunate to have breathed her air, as memories, and moments from the past become those that define our future. In my life some of those are memories and lessons that she has taught me, not just by words, but by actions.

She gave me the tools to be a strong woman, and at times I admit I struggled to stand, but my grandmother held me by both hands at those times and lifted me up. Then she let me go, because she knew, she knew all along that one day I would need the strength to stand on my own. To lift my own daughter by her hands and learn to let her grow so she can become stronger.

Who you were or the way you felt, my Grandmother loved without judgement.

When she looked at me, spoke to me I never doubted her love, it was always an invisible beam between us. When I was younger we used to lay on her bed and she used to read to me stories from the bible while I used her arm as a pillow. I remember when I got a bit older and she read to me then I asked her, “Gran why does a story always start with Once Upon A Time?” She said because now it is a fairytale but once upon a time it was true. It was then I imagined life, I convinced myself that aliens were real. That I could be anything I want.

There is never a moment that is perfect to let the one you love go and she was one of the very few who I have loved and still do. I took my books off the pre-order today and I am glad I did. Because I get to share her memory with you guys. And dedicate this book that she waited so long to read but barely started. On Tuesday, December 4th 2018, I read the first chapter to her. 

I wish I knew that it was the last day, but we never really know when death comes naturally, do we.

Playlist

Luke Combs – She got the best of me

Jordan Davis – Take It from me

Brett Young – Here Tonight

Kane Brown – Lose It

Mitchell Tenpenny – Drunk Me

Luke Combs – Beautiful Crazy

Brett Young – Mercy

Lady Gaga – Shallow

Cam – Burning House

One Direction – They Don’t know about us

Brett Young - Catch

––––––––

The Explanation

There is no excuse or reasons why I have taken this book off and why there has been a delay. I feel to you as the reader, that it is only fair I explain my reasons why.

The thing is I don’t really have a reason but to say that life has thrown me curve balls. I have been trying so hard to learn the art of living that I started losing part of myself in the process. Writing has always been easy, but recently the stuff I write always turns dark. The endings all seem too bleak and the romance though it burns like the yearning in my heart the words just come out as that, just words.

I was born to write, to create stories and enter entire different worlds. But now I am realizing that I was born to also live. For, how do we tell stories if we have barely understood our reality.

Right now as sit at this desk and write down these words, I can honestly say that this, now, is the most truthful that I have been to you and myself.

Beggar

Present

––––––––

DEATH, THE ONLY PART of our life already predicted from the moment our fetus is formed. The how’s, when and where’s may vary, but we all eventually die.

Death is the finale of moments, only when that moment comes it’s a lasting moment. The one thing in our lives that is meant to last for eternity and even then, we aren't sure.

What comes after death? Now that is debatable and depending solely on the one who is doing the answering.

The believers might say heaven or hell. A few religions may have some varieties on the name but the places are the same. One meant for the good ones and the other meant for sinners. Some might be convinced in reincarnation of the soul or like the Atheist believe- the black space, nothing.

But who on this earth really knows anything but for the paths we take to get there?

Now, while those paths we take may seem similar to others and we have that moment where we delude ourselves into thinking that this person or people can relate to what we have been through, it is still our path. Our moments made up by our choices.

The circumstances leading to those choices might very well be due to other people, but they are null in the bigger picture, devoid of relevance in the final outcome, death.

This, here, now, in this open parking lot with a gun in my hand, I pull the trigger, shortening his story. A sudden death, more than he deserves.

I tell myself reasons be damned of why I shouldn't do it. In my case, the one with the gun in my hand, I can honestly say that my reasons are the only thing keeping me going.

My eyes don't leave his shocked gaze as his hand goes to his stomach, so I pull the trigger again. The impact causes my arm to jerk back as the second shot gets him in his chest.

He would never understand how my heart shrivelled when he killed my babies. The burning sensation that takes him before death does, is the closest feeling that mirrors my own torturous loss I have felt because of him.

Yet, even now, watching his fall, there is no victory felt, no relief of the sweet revenge promised by the minds game of vengeance after the knight has its revenge. For after that moment like all sweetened treats, there is a price that must be paid.

I look up into the bright Southern sky, waiting for something, a sign. But the sun doesn't call to the sounds of murder, it does not hide behind the clouds screaming that this death was different.

Truth is, it is not some precious moment, it is just a life altering one for me- the girl with the gun,

And him- the man who has now fallen to the parking lot floor, bleeding to death.

I should say I feel some remorse for what has happened, but I can't, it would be a lie.

I was once a girl, who never wanted much besides a safe place to rest my head at night. Thorn was one of the men that crossed my path and made that impossible.

He took from me twice, now I have finally returned the sentiment by taking his life. 

“NOOOOOOOO.”

The scream coming from the being who just yesterday claimed to love me can be heard in the back of my head.

I told him I will destroy him, I did. I never lied. There are moments in my life I wish I could take back, but even watching Zero run toward his brother’s dying form, with his face in anguish- this is not one of those moments.

“What have you done, why, WHY?” He screams at me as he drops to the ground next to his blood brother and I don't need to say a thing. Really, what more can I say?

I just killed his brother.

I took the one thing from him that he loved more than anything in the world.

I ripped it out because I could.

I told Zero that we were doomed from that moment- When he grabbed that gun out of my hands.

The only chance we had was a moment.

That is what we are given in life, just moments before death.

“Get out of here, the cops are on their way.” Killer's voice has me swinging into action as I slip the gun back in my holster and rush from the scene but even, I can’t stop the scream of the man I love that haunts my ears.

Beggar

4 months earlier

“Are you going to just stand there, looking at me or give me a hug.” Lucca's eyes hide a secret spell as they entrance me with just that wide-eyed knowing stare.

“Well, I guess that is exactly what you are doing,” He chuckles and I stand in his foyer of his hotel room, and watch as he walks closer.

He engulfs me and a dark scented whiff of his cologne embraces me as I put my head against his chest, until all I can smell, see and feel is him.

“I have missed mi Amor.” His words now all I hear. The beat of his chest silent to his deep dark voice that covers me in a web of seduction.

“Amariya.” The devil calling my name penetrates through my fog mind that still insists on remembering the sweet bitter love I had for my husband, Lucca Sanati six and a half years ago.

“Yo, what's up?” I rub my eyes, inhale a deep sounding breath in an attempt to hide my forbidden thought before looking up to Killer who is standing in front of the hotel rooms armchair I am seated on.

His blue eyes and sharp chiselled face give no hint of emotion, or clue to the killer that lives within him. I don’t need it to know he knows the one who is on my mind.

“We're heading to Kylie today, get dressed.” The order is given and like Killer, he turns, making a swift exit to either get ready, train or eat.

I watch his retreating form, frowning at his sudden change of mind.

Yesterday he refused to take me to Kylie. Now we were going

The bathroom door of the en-suite opens and like always, I follow the direction of the sound with a tilt of my head.

Zero's big body walks out. Naked chest bared to my eyes.

His jeans undone, the black jocks he’s wearing underneath on full display. The hard-protruded lines on his body visible.

This man is built to be a soldier.

He'd just showered, his skin is still misted. A light sheen blankets his skin, making his arm muscles look more pronounced than they really are. His broad shoulders that have carried many men to safety flex and twitch.

I have never asked him why he has the slight tremors. The question seems silly and it is something to look forward to every morning at seven twenty when he opens that door.

I am never disappointed and he is never late.

All in all, it is hard to miss the powerful, half-naked Enforcer standing and looking at me with eyes I know intimately.

I gulp when he smiles in that sexy way, I have come to know is his.

HIS one eye smaller when he smiles. The scar under his left eye, the sexiest yet most frightening part of his face lifts an inch.

Once that scar was the scariest part of him, but now I have come to know this man, with a heart full of so much to give, once you crack around his hard façade.

A month together on the road has helped me with that.

The fault in this picture is Zero with all his appeal has not had sex with me this past month.

Since Killer, Zero and I left Kanla to hunt down my husband, Lucca after he ordered his men to attack the clubhouse, Zero and I have slept in the same bed. But he has not touched me further than his hand on my thighs when we ride, or my breast to his chest and a few short kisses.

At night he sleeps on his side and I, on mine.

My dreams have not shown itself, nor has anything triggered a reaction to my living nightmare. I know it is not me that is the reason, but something more.

What? I don’t know but I will find out.

Before I met The Satan Snipers, a dreamless night’s sleep behind a dumpster would have measured up to a good day for me. A small break from seeing Lucca’s lustful eyes as his hands choke me until my own gaze fades into only terror

Time has changed me. Now, when my nightmares do show itself, I know it isn't Lucca's violence on me that will cripple me, but the screams of another girl, my friend, Kylie Bray.

An innocent girl that was once just a billionaire. A girl I thought was weak.

I was once convinced that she will never survive my life for one day. She proved me wrong, she survived my hell for weeks and still stands.

On the streets we prove our strengths by our actions, our will to survive to fight and fend for another hour.

Kylie Bray has proven to be the strongest woman I know. She was raped by my husband’s men for three weeks, over and over again. Beaten within an inch of her life every day. Hours spent getting tortured by those sick fucks, while they recorded it. All that, because she chose to help me.

The day I was too weak to stand I landed on her doorstep.

When I rang her doorbell, I opened the floodgates that would become her hell.

I should say that I regret going to her house the night I escaped from the cruel capture of Lucca, but, then I would never have spent that time with her.

I would have never learned about the quirkiness of Kylie Bray.

The Southern belle that hates Champaign and prefers a pizza over a burger.

She would have never told me that I was worth more than all those zeros in her bank account when all I felt was nothing but filth toward myself.

And how would I have seen her lopsided smile when I shot an arrow in her window playing Archery, or her determination to teach me to dive.

I would have never felt the freedom of will when I rode with Killer and her up the mountains and we watched the blood moon disappear as the sun took its place.

Those memories would have never existed. So how can I regret the horror that came after, when those moments before were like a strange magic of could BE's I will never get back.

She still stands, but I have not seen her.

I have not looked in her eyes and told her I am sorry, because her brother, Killer did not let me.

Today will be different, today I will look at the woman whose life is changed because of me.

I will see the damage I have caused, knowing that there is nothing I could do to make it go away.

There is no remedy to the past. Once it is done, it is written and sealed in blood, memory and time.

My cousin, Marco said, that the past is that which has happened. No matter how we look back on it, those moments, memories will be an unaltered occurrence, so we best just learn, observe and move on. 

I scan the room.

The thick rumpled grey and white duvet, a reminder of my late night.

Fluffy pillows discarded to the floor, in my haste to run to the bathroom.

Empty containers of pudding that filled my stomach just a few hours ago sit in a line on the black wooden bedside table.

All of this a daily occurrence since the three of us have left Kanla.

The man standing shirtless, imposing as the day I first snuck a glance at him from underneath my hood, watches me from across our bedroom we have shared like a couple should.

Every day I remind myself, this life is temporary.

This man who has not touched me as a lover should, yet still breathes life into me is part of that temporary.

I admit it gets harder.

Zero is my biggest challenge I have yet to overcome. 

Nothing good has ever lasted long enough to consider it a routine before now, especially not a man.

In the end he will be no different. 

There are nights my body sweats and my hands shake as shivers rake up my back at just the thought of going back on the streets. Those nights show me that I have become weak.

Those nights I get this urge to hold Zero, to wrap my arms around his muscular back and dig my fingers into his torso just to remind myself that this is real.

I really did wake up on a soft bed, ate a hot meal and drank a warm drink while the Enforcer of a motorcycle club sat next to me.

Even these clothes on my back are mine, not hand me downs or stuff that was stolen. But as much as I want to hold my man, I don't.

Life on the streets will always be there. My past always the darkened taint to my present, reminding me of who I am.

No matter how comfortable I feel in this moment I have now, there are some things that are set in stone. 

Relying on a man to comfort me is one of those things.

Unfortunately, my husband, Lucca is a big part of the reason why a man’s arms is not something I will ever need to warm my chills. No matter how much I crave it

And as I sit here looking at the Enforcer of one of the deadliest Motorcycle Clubs in the U.S, I don't need to seek him out to know that something is up.

I can smell it every time he steps in a room.

This Zero is not the man I met almost year ago.

He is different since leaving Kanla. The man in front of me is not the Zero I know.

I get a weird feeling that his thoughts are playing a deadly game of Russian roulette on his mind.

On the streets I learned from a young age that there is never mistaking caution for paranoia.

Those two feelings can be the single thread that separates you from the living and the dead. As sad as it sounds, it wasn't until I met my father, and he held a gun to my head that I figured that out.

I was twelve, still learning the rules of survival, still hoping.

I snort at the thought of how stupid and naïve I was at one stage.

Killer enters the bedroom and I watch the devil as he grabs the charger next to the bed in silence, at ease, leaving Zero and I alone again.

Killer has noticed Zero’s behaviour too.