Claiming Crusher (Savage Brothers MC #4)
Jordan Marie
Dedication
I am a lover of words. They have saved my life, help me to escape and brought solace when it felt as if I was drowning. It’s still hard for me to believe that I get to write words and that people want to read it. I can never express what a gift that is, because I honestly don’t think words are invented that adequately describe it. So, first and foremost, thank you readers for not only letting me live my dream, but encouraging me. I am forever in your debt.
Thank you as always to my friend Kurt Gangluff, may life always find you filled with joy and peace and dreams of Rooster.
Tammie Smith, you are my wonder twin. You save my life daily and there’s no way I can repay you for everything you do. I love you boo thang. I love you beyond words.
Dessure Hutchins, you didn’t know me but you had my back. That blows me away. From that, I gained one of the best friends and confidants a girl could have. Thank you for all your hard work and for always making me laugh and sharing your misadventures with Grady. You’re a light in my day woman.
Grady ‘G6’ Hutchins, thank you for becoming what I must now measure every book boyfriend I write by. Keep our DD happy or I shall have to write you in a book and do something evil to you. Sorry, not sorry.
Tami Czenkus, I don’t need to say anything, you know. I love you beyond words.
To my crew who helped me like crazy with this book, LaVida Briscoe, Michelle McGinty, Jen Wildner, Tammie S., Dessure, and Tami C. Thanks for holding my hand and telling me when I sucked.
To the Badass Betas who provided great feedback as well as helped encourage me, I love you ladies big, Tamra Simons, Andrea Florkowski, and Melody Bruce Miller.
Neringa, I don’t think you get how much you mean to me. I shall tell you as often as I can so that maybe someday you will grasp it. Thank you woman, you are AMAZING.
Melissa Anne Allen, I hope you like your rendezvous with Bull. Thank you for the support lady. Happy Reading.
Angel Dust, my friend, I just love the hell out of you. That’s all I got. You are amazing.
Fran and CJ as always thanks for putting up with me missing deadlines and working in a panic. I truly love you ladies.
To my street team, which really are just some of the most amazing women I have ever had the chance to get to know. I love each and every one of you. I have signings piled up next year and I hope I get the chance to meet all of you. If I get so lucky we must make it a point to get together and get chocolate wasted. My treat. #BadassBitches4Life
Foreword
Readers as always I’ve tried really hard to write this book so that you don’t have to read the whole series. For the most part, I do believe I have achieved that goal. The heroine in this book was first written in Breaking Dragon and at first she was a throw-away character I had every intention of writing off and never hearing from again. Then she spoke.
There are scenes in this book that contain graphic violence. Her story is not pretty. Do not read if you can’t handle the violence she endured. However, I hope you do follow her journey and see the strength it took to get to the other side. That said, along with the violence and rape scenes there are consensual sex scenes that involve multiple partners and all that entails. This was your warning.
For those that remain, enjoy! (Hopefully)
J
The Beginning
of the
End of Her
Melinda
I don’t know what set him off this time. I honestly don’t. I’m always so careful—the past year has taught me to be careful. I don’t argue, I don’t question. I make sure everything he could possibly want or ask from me is within reach. The cook knows the menu a solid week in advance. All meals are approved by Michael. In fact, everything is approved by Michael right down to the color of my hair (red) and the pale, pink lip gloss I wear. I do not make a move unless it is approved by him.
I’ve been doing this for so long now, it has become second nature. I’m almost robotic with it all. So, I honestly have no idea why I’m being summoned to his office. My hands are shaking and a cold, clammy sweat pops out over my body. My stomach flutters nervously and I’m glad I haven’t eaten. I’m standing outside Michael’s office in our home and I’m terrified to knock, because I know what will happen. If I don’t knock? If I try to run away? Michael will make me pay. I know, because I’ve done it in the past. I’ve learned not to run now—it hurts less. I stiffen my backbone and knock gently. I send up a prayer that he will be asleep or gone. As usual, the prayer goes unanswered. God forgot about me a long time ago. I’m not sure he ever remembered me.