Aiden (Grim Sinners MC Book 4) Read online




  LeAnn Ashers

  Copyright

  Aiden is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the author.

  Designer: Regina Wamba

  Photographer: Wander Aquilar

  Editor: Stephanie Marshall Ward at Eats, Shoots, Edits

  Formatter: Small Town Girl Formatting

  Dedication

  This is for all those who thought they couldn’t be loved or accepted because of what they considered flaws.

  You’re not broken, you’re beautiful.

  You’re perfect.

  You’re everything.

  Contents

  Aiden

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Author Note

  About the Author

  Want more to read?

  Grim Sinners MC Series

  Prologue

  Aiden

  “I will take him,” I told Lane, the MC president.

  Wilder set my son in my arms. In that moment my entire life changed. Everything stopped and it was just me and this baby.

  I am a member of the Grim Sinners MC. We were taking down a human trafficking ring when we found this baby, around four months old, alone in the basement.

  We weren’t sure who would take him, and none of us wanted him to go into foster care.

  So I stepped up. I decided to take him and raise him as my own. It may have been stupid, but it’s something I will never regret.

  One of the things I’ve always wanted is to be a dad, I thought. Why not start now? This baby needs a home, someone to love him, and I can do that.

  I know it won’t be easy, but he deserves it.

  We both need each other.

  1

  Grace

  “Get off of the road!” I scream, sticking my head out the window. My road rage is getting the better of me.

  This guy is barely moving in the fast lane and, on top of that, I am late for my softball game. I got caught up volunteering at the community center and lost all track of time.

  I am the coach for a Little League softball team. What does it say when a coach is late for her own game? I stop at the red light, banging my head on the steering wheel.

  The driver swerves into my lane, trying to hit me. I gasp and clutch my steering wheel, swerving into the next lane, almost hitting a truck. The driver of the truck slams his brakes, rolling down his window. I grimace waiting for the chewing-out I’m about to get.

  He’s definitely not what I expected. First off: can I say beautiful? He is wearing glasses that give him this sexy Superman vibe, but Superman wouldn’t be covered in tattoos.

  Oh no, this man is pure sin.

  Without thinking I yell out, “Sorry about that, hot stuff!” I feel my face get hot, and I roll up my window and floor it.

  I can’t believe I just did that! I have never done anything like that. I rub my warm cheek and turn on some music as a distraction from what a fool I just made of myself.

  A minute later the softball field comes into view, and I let out a deep breath. Right on time.

  Some of the parents are already here, and Tiffany, the star of the team, is already on the field practicing pitching. She is always the first one on the field and the last one off. She is absolutely amazing, and I see her playing in college one day if she continues at this pace.

  “Hi Grace, do you need help?” Amelia asks, and I smile at her. She’s Tiffany’s mom, and she’s an amazing helper. She is always ready to do a bake sale or help me chaperone away games, and she’s very supportive of all the girls. Hell, all the team parents have been amazing. They’ve made donations and bought new equipment, and they are always at all the games, even the ones hours away.

  “You can help me carry the snacks for the girls.” I open the back of my SUV, which is piled high with a million different things.

  I am a softball coach, and I volunteer at the local community center for kids. I fill my days with helping others.

  My day job is…well…I am a trust fund kid. My grandparents left me everything. That left me with more than enough money to live on very comfortably for…well…forever.

  At the local community center, I work with kids who have been abused or are in difficult family situations. We are their escape, and we provide meals.

  Doing what I do is hard. It is so hard to see kids suffering when there’s nothing I can do about it. All I can do is try to make their day better while they are there.

  “I heard this team was pretty tough,” Amelia says, looking at the field where the other team is practicing.

  I nod. “They might be good, but we are better—and we have heart.” I wink at Tiffany, who is helping another girl practice her batting. Tiffany beams and pulls her mask over her face. She throws a perfect pitch to the girl, and the ball sails across the field.

  “That’s my girls!” I yell.

  Some of the MC guys pop out of nowhere and help us unload everything. I thank them and go out onto the field with the girls, and I pull my hair back into a ponytail. “Tiffany! Cindy!” I have them go with me to talk to the umpires and the coaches of the opposite team.

  Yeah, it’s just me, myself, and I. I’m the only coach, and I kind of prefer it this way—I don’t have anyone else to answer to.

  The two guys who coach the other team are older than me by at least twenty years. They look at each other and smirk. I try to resist the urge to roll my eyes. They have underestimated me.

  We shake hands. “Where’s your head coach?” one of them asks.

  I giggle, putting on my best, most friendly smile. “I am the head coach.” I go back to ignoring them and listen to the umpire talk about the rules.

  They walk off. “Good luck. You guys are going to need it.”

  I narrow my eyes, and Tiffany huffs beside me. “I think someone’s wanting their butt kicked,” Tiffany says way too loudly, and I suck in my bottom lip trying to control my laughter. They are kind of asking for it.

  “Let’s show them.” I wink and we walk across the field to the other girls. Tiffany immediately fills them in on what’s going on. I sit back and let it happen—you know why? That will put a fire under their butts, making them more determined to win.

  I gather up the girls, and I bend down closer to their level. “Alright girls, they may have a fancier school, but we have heart and we have each other’s backs. Let’s show them not to underestimate us.”

  “Let’s go!” they all scream at once and run across the field. The other team is batting first, and I watch proudly as my girls run to their positions.

  I lean against the wall of the dugout. One of the girls on the opposite team is up to bat, and I gnaw on my bottom lip. With a nod, Tiffany throws the ball.

  “Strike!” The umpire yells and I grin.

  “That’s my girl!” I yell. Amelia is jumping up and down in the stands.

  “Hey, hot stuff,” someone says directly behind me. I jump and gape at the sight of the man
I called “hot stuff” earlier, when I had the road rage incident.

  “I…uh.” I stop, not knowing what to say, and he just continues to grin at me. Then I look down at the vest he is wearing. Grim Sinners MC.

  My mouth dries as I connect the dots, and I close my eyes and turn around. Maybe he will just leave?

  “The view isn’t bad back here either, darlin’,” he teases.

  I cover my face and walk away, closer to the girls. I can hear him chuckling, and my embarrassment grows.

  Can the ground just swallow me up right now?

  “Strike!”

  I grin and clap. Tiffany has that shit-eating grin on her face; she knows she is good.

  Amelia’s husband, Lane, is already out of his seat, standing at the fence. “That’s my baby!” he yells and I laugh. Give it ten minutes and he will be standing right next to me, with half of the MC. They get torn into pieces at these games, especially the ones where it’s a close call.

  Did I mention that we are undefeated? I am proud of that fact. We have practiced and practiced, before and after school. We want to hit the nationals, and we are determined to win.

  “Strike!” One out and two more to go.

  The other two strike out without hitting even one ball. They switch out, and all my girls run back to the dugout.

  The other coach glares at me from across the field, and I high five everyone on the team. “I am so proud of you girls!”

  Amelia is handing out drinks. Like I said, she is amazing.

  “Thank you, Amelia.”

  She waves me off.

  Tiffany is batting first; she is just as good with a bat as she is at pitching. She is a weapon all around. I walk with Tiffany to the batter’s box, and she bounces slightly on her feet, twirling her bat. She sets her stance and steadies herself.

  I feel someone standing beside me, and I see it’s Lane. I told you it wouldn’t take long.

  I wish all fathers were like him. He’s a huge source of support to Tiffany, and Amelia is just out-of-this-world amazing.

  The pitcher throws the ball, but it’s too far to the left.

  “Ball!” the umpire yells.

  The pitcher throws again, and I know Tiffany is going to hit it.

  Crack! The ball sails toward the back of the field, she runs, and the girls scream. She gets to second base before the other team catches up to her.

  “That’s my girl!” Lane yells, and I laugh as Tiffany gives him a thumbs-up.

  This continues for a long time. We have almost twenty runs in before they finally get us out.

  Tiffany prepares herself to pitch, and I wince at the ass-chewing the girls on the other team are getting from their coaches.

  “Fucking douchebag.” I start at the sound of the voice beside me. It’s the hot guy from earlier.

  I play it cool. “Yeah, they kind of are.” I finally decide to put my big-girl panties on. “I am Grace.”

  He looks me up and down, grinning. “Yes you are.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh. “Thank you, I guess.”

  He laughs with me and pushes his glasses further up his nose. He is rocking the bad-boy nerd look very well. “I am Aiden. It’s nice to officially meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too.” I smile and turn back to the game; then he leaves and I think that is it.

  He comes back holding a baby, who is probably around six months old.

  “He’s so cute,” I coo, and my hands are itching to hold him.

  “Thank you.” Aiden kisses the top of his head, and my ovaries are gone in that second. Hello! A hot guy holding a baby?

  Tiffany does her single nod and throws.

  “Strike!”

  I look sideways at Lane and Amelia. We love to see them win, but we don’t want someone to be completely butchered.

  One of the girls hits the ball, and I know Tiffany slowed down the pitch for her, but one of our girls catches it in the air.

  Out.

  After they are out, the coaches yell for a meeting. I am waved over. I run over, and the nicer of the two tells me that they forfeit.

  I reach out. “Good game.” I smile. The nicer one shakes my hand, and the other turns tail and walks away.

  “Well, okay,” I murmur to myself.

  I wave the girls over, and they shake hands with the other team, telling each other, “Good game.”

  “I am so proud of you girls tonight! No practice tomorrow, rest up for our next game.” I smile and they all gather their stuff.

  “So, hot stuff, can I get your number?”

  I smile and turn around. Aiden is standing behind me, still carrying that precious baby.

  “Maybe, but where is his mom?” I want to get that straight out there. I am sure I could have asked another way, but I don’t beat around the bush anymore.

  “He doesn’t have one.”

  My heart sinks. How awful is that? “I am sorry,” I whisper, feeling like a total bitch for the way I asked that question. I just assumed they had broken up.

  He shakes his head. “No, don’t be sorry for that.” He steps closer, and I have to stop the urge to step back. “So can I?” he asks again, that smirk returning to his face.

  What should I do? Should I say yes? Am I just wasting my time? Relationships and me just don’t work for some reason.

  Well, we both know the reasons, Grace.

  Fuck it. “Sure.”

  For the first time, I see him smile—it’s deadly.

  He hands me his phone, and I put my number in and call myself so I’ll have his number too. “I’ll be in touch, hot stuff.” He winks and walks away.

  Did that really just happen?

  Is this a movie? I almost took out a guy in a road rage incident, and now I’m going on a date with that very same guy.

  I smile and get busy putting the rest of my stuff away. “Bye, girls!” I yell as they leave with their parents. I grab my bag and walk to my SUV.

  I climb into my vehicle and wait until every last person has left before I leave. I have to get to the center so I can finish preparing snacks for the kids to take home.

  When I walk into the center, I am greeted by blinding smiles. “Gracie!” a few of them yell and run toward me.

  I laugh and bend down so I can hug them.

  “I was waiting for you, Miss Gracie,” Leah, one of the regulars here, tells me. She is precious. She has long blonde hair, in pigtails, and she’s wearing a sweater with a pair of jeans. Her clothes are a little the worse for wear. She is around seven years old.

  “I’m sorry I’m a little late, honey. Want to help me prepare the lunch bags?”

  She nods frantically and holds my hand.

  We walk together to the kitchen. “Do you want to grab the bags out of the drawer?”

  She lets go of my hand and does as she was asked.

  I push the container of snacks and drinks into the middle of the floor. I sit down on the floor, and she joins me.

  “Want me to open the bags for you, Miss Gracie?” She moves from her knees onto her bottom. That’s when I notice bruising on her shins. The sad thing is most of the kids here have been through something like this at some point in their lives. This is their safe haven. This is the place where they can be kids and leave everything at the door.

  I put sandwiches, fruit, water, and other things into the bags. It gives me major peace of mind knowing the children will have food tonight. I love all the kids here. I wish I could just adopt every single one of them and give them the lives they deserve.

  “Miss Gracie, I wish I could be a part of your softball team.”

  I put down the bag I was holding. “If you had permission from your parents, I would love to have you.”

  She grips the bottom of her shirt, and her eyes light up. “Really, Miss Gracie?”

  I laugh at how excited she is. “Yes, really!”

  She grins and goes back to helping me. We work in sync and get everything done in record time. We put everything in the c
ontainer, carry it to the front room, and put it by the door so they can grab their snacks as they leave.

  Leah is bouncing around the room talking to every kid, helping them with their crafts, and I just sit back watching her.

  “Hey, Gracie.”

  I look over at Marie, my best friend and another volunteer. She is here every evening, tutoring the ones who need it. She is a schoolteacher.

  “Hey Marie, how was school today?”

  She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. “Exhausting.”

  I look at her, concerned; she really looks worn down.

  “Why don’t you leave early. I am sure that I can handle everything myself today.”

  She puts down the washcloth she was holding. “Are you sure? I am pretty beat.”

  I wave my arm. “It’s nothing. Go rest.”

  She smiles at me. “Thank you so much, Grace. You’re the best.” She gives me a side hug, and I pat her back.

  I finish cleaning everything up and preparing for tomorrow evening, when we will reopen. I take out a piece of paper and write my name and number on it for Leah. “Leah, honey, can you come here for a second?”

  She runs over, and I sit down on one of the lunch-table benches. I hand her the piece of paper. “This is my number. Call me anytime, even if it’s just to talk, and especially if you need anything.”

  She looks at the piece of paper for a few seconds before she takes it. “Thank you, Miss Gracie.” She gives me a quick hug.

  “Everyone ready?” Henry, our bus driver, will be taking everyone home. He is a bus driver for the school system, but he volunteers for this every evening.

  All the kids run to the front of the building, grabbing their bags of snacks on the way out. The last one is Leah, and she looks back at me one last time before she steps out.

  My heart immediately hurts. I can’t stand the thought of them being hurt or scared once they get home.

  This is such a hard thing to do. It’s difficult seeing so many of these kids go through things and there’s nothing I can do.

  Some of them are in foster care. Some of them are in bad home situations, and the system often does nothing.