Sweet Pea (Burning Saints MC #4) Read online

  2019 Jack Davenport

  Copyright © 2019 Trixie Publishing, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States

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

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Art

  Jackson Jackson

  Cover Model

  Joe Adams

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Praise

  Acknowledgements

  Back Blurb

  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

  Epilogue

  Recipe

  Doozer

  Duke

  Meet Doc

  About Jack

  All it took was one page and I was hooked on Jack Davenport’s writing! ~ Harley Stone, Contemporary Romance Author

  Oh, good gravy, this book is good. And I’m not just saying that because he does other amazing things with his fingers! ~ Piper Davenport, Contemporary Romance Author

  Liz Kelly

  Your insights are amazing and always spot on. Thank you!

  Piper

  I couldn’t do any of this without you. Literally, my fingers would fall off and I’d be a vegetable.

  Brandy G.

  Thank you for the million reads and your attention to detail!!! You’re amazing.

  Gail G.

  You’re a rock star! Thank you for all your help!

  18+ for language and sexual situations...

  Charles “Sweet Pea” Kimble is a newly appointed Road Captain for the Burning Saints MC. His promotion is overshadowed by issues with a rival club and his attraction to the alluring assistant district attorney is an inconvenience, to say the least.

  Callie Ames has a passion for justice that burns deep, but that passion may have met its match when the Viking god posing as a biker appears in her courtroom.

  As his dark past is revealed, and a brewing civil war threatens everything they both love, will they be drawn together, or torn apart?

  For Joe

  Thanks for wearing a helmet, buddy.

  Sweet Pea

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, before this trial concludes, I would like to thank you all once again for your service to this court. I know the witness testimony was difficult to listen to and appreciate the difficult task you were all asked to perform.”

  Judge Reynolds addressed the jury in a sensitive tone, rarely heard from behind his bench. The trial had been hell on everyone in the courtroom and the tension was at an all-time high as we were now moments away from hearing the final verdict.

  “Madam Foreperson, has the jury reached a unanimous decision?”

  The foreperson rose to her feet, the verdict held in her trembling hand. “Yes, your Honor, we have.”

  My pulse quickened and I felt beads of sweat form on my brow.

  “The defendant will now rise for the reading of the verdict in the case of the State of Oregon vs. John Knight,” Judge Reynolds’ baritone voice boomed out.

  Disgraced evangelical pastor, John Knight, stood, flanked by his lawyers. His typical douchebag uniform of bedazzled jeans and Ed Hardy shirt was replaced with a drab grey suit and tie. One more disguise to make him look like a respectable minister and not the predatory monster he was. Not that it mattered. After what the jury heard, there was no way this guy would ever see daylight again, let alone the pulpit of his hipster church.

  As soon as he was on his feet, Knight attempted to charm the jury one last time, making eye contact with each member. His lips pressed into a half-smile of fake humility, mouthing the words, “Bless you.”

  “Please direct your attention to the bench, Mr. Knight,” Judge Reynolds said sternly, and Knight did as he was told.

  “Before I instruct the foreperson to read the verdict, I would like to take a few moments to address you personally.”

  The room was so quiet I thought the person next to me would be able to hear my heart thumping inside my chest. I was normally cool as a cucumber, but this trial had me crawling out of my skin with nerves. Like everyone else in the room, I wanted it to be over and for Knight to pay.

  Judge Reynolds continued, “Mr. Knight, it is the firm belief of this court that you willingly and knowingly gained the trust of the good people of this community, and then, not only abused that trust, but the children of the very people who gave it to you. I believe you are an evil man in shepherd’s clothing. A man that used his position of authority for financial gain and to sexually abuse children.”

  Every muscle in my body tightened. I wanted to leap over the divider that separated us and choke the life out of that piece of shit myself. I wasn’t a fan of John Knight when he was just a two-bit local televangelist wannabe, but now I wanted him erased from the planet. I’d been obsessed with his case since the news of his arrest, and once the trial started, any time the club didn’t need me, I was here in this courthouse. Now, I was finally going to see this bastard pay for his sins.

  The judge continued, “If it were up to me, you’d never see the outside of a prison cell. However, in this case, it’s up to the jury and I will have to trust them and the judicial system.” Judge Reynolds turned to the foreperson. “Madame Foreperson, in the case of the State of Oregon vs. John Knight, how do you find the defendant, John Knight, on the first count of sexual assault on a minor?”

  I’ve heard the term tunnel vision all my life but had never experienced it myself. What I experienced next was more like pinpoint vision. My field of vision was completely blacked out, except for a very narrow point of focus. The only thing I could see was the foreperson’s mouth. Her cheap, drug store lipstick stained mouth forming the words, “Not guilty.”

  I saw and heard nothing for the next few minutes. Fugue states were not exactly uncommon for me during times of extreme stress. I’d “lost time” before, but it had been years since the last episode.

  Once fully lucid again, I’d come to find the jury found Knight not guilty on all three charges, including sexual assault of a minor, as well as the lesser charges against him. In short, John Knight was about to leave the courtroom a free man.

  Later, when asked, the members of the jury said they just couldn’t believe that a man that was so clearly “used by God” and “filled with the Holy Spirt,” could willingly harm a child. Despite the evidence and testimony from Elsie Miller herself, these people could not wrap their minds around this kind of evil.

  I understood it all too well.

  * * *

  Callie

  “Not guilty.”

  After she read the verdict on the final count, the foreperso
n folded the verdict sheet and looked at Judge Reynolds who sat silently. If this had been any other courtroom, pandemonium would have surely broken out by now, but the judge had already made it perfectly clear that he would not tolerate any outbursts in his courtroom. He’d proven that twice on the first day of trial by removing two family members and a reporter for what he called inappropriate behavior.

  “It is with great regret that I must declare this trial concluded. Mr. Knight, you are free to go,” Judge Reynolds said, and hastily banged his gavel before quickly exiting through the side door that led to his chambers.

  I’d worked in his courtroom enough times to know when he was unhappy, but I’m not sure I’d ever seen him stunned before. Not that I could blame him. This was, by far, the biggest miscarriage of justice I’d ever witnessed, let alone been a part of. I turned and made eye contact with my client, Elsie, and her mother, Rita. I tried to mouth the words, “I’m sorry,” but my face betrayed me, choosing instead to convulse as I burst into tears.

  “Callie? Are you okay?” Rob asked.

  I heard him clearly, but responded with, “What?” I didn’t know what else to say at that moment. I suppose I could have asked, “What the hell just happened?” or better yet, screamed, “What the actual fuck?” at the top of my lungs. Better still, I should have grabbed the foreperson and shook her silly. How could the jury have possibly come back with not guilty on all charges? I’ll admit that my confidence wasn’t at an all-time-high when it came to the third count, but not guilty? I knew it was a mistake to rush to trial, and I sure as hell would have handled jury selection entirely differently if I had been the lead prosecutor.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Rob said and gently guided me through the sea of audience members and media. Rob Glass and I had both started at the DA’s office around the same time and had worked together closely ever since. We made an excellent team and had assisted each other on several successful cases. This was not only our first loss, but by far, our most important and personal case.

  “We have to talk to the Millers,” I said in a panic.

  “We will, Callie. Let’s get you some air first,” Rob said.

  This case had consumed our lives for the past sixteen months, all leading up to a trial we thought would be a slam dunk. And it was. Our team had worked their fingers to the bone and our witness testimonies were as compelling as they come.

  Our witnesses.

  I began to openly sob as that thought washed over me. Our witnesses were a family who’d been ripped to shreds by a monster. A monster that was now free to prowl their neighborhoods again despite their bravery on the stand. I could not believe that we, the legal system and me personally, had let these children down.

  Gregg Sterling, the lead prosecutor and the DA’s golden boy, met Rob and me as we passed. “I’m so sorry. I know you both put a lot of hours into this case. This was a tough loss for all of us.”

  “Screw us!” I snapped. “This was a loss for Elsie. Not to mention, the children like her who haven’t come forward yet. Or worse, the ones he’s free to target now.” I’d always been able to look past the fact that I didn’t like Gregg on a personal level, but now that he’d blown the trial, I was outright hostile. “He’s going to do this again, Gregg.”

  “Even though Knight walked, what kind of parent would let their kids near him now?” Gregg asked, flippantly.

  “The kind that just voted him not guilty, Gregg. Were you asleep while the verdict was read?”

  “Careful, Ms. Ames,” Gregg warned.

  “The truth is, you’re so focused on becoming the next DA, you rushed through jury selection. I warned you about at least four of those jurors and you ignored me each time,” I replied.

  “What did you just say to me?”

  “Oh, you heard me,” I snapped. “Look at what just happened. The jury heard from the kids themselves and still let Knight walk. There are a lot of people out in the world who trust the church more than they trust their own eyes, ears, and guts. You overestimated your ability to select a jury and underestimated Knight’s ability to work them.”

  “So, this was my fault?” Gregg asked.

  “Getting justice for Elsie was our responsibility. The fact that you don’t feel like a failure right now speaks volumes, Gregg. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go try and help comfort the families if I can.”

  Rob and I continued our push through the crush of people into the hallway, which was now as crowded as the courtroom itself. Using our key cards, we gained access to the secured rear exit and made our way outside. I headed for the courthouse steps, but Rob stopped me.

  “You sure you want to head right back into all that chaos? Maybe you should take a beat.”

  “I can’t, Rob. I need to talk to the Millers. I need to explain to them how sorry I am that we failed.”

  “You did everything you could have, Callie. This wasn’t your failure.”

  “Come on,” I said, ignoring his words. I knew he was only trying to make me feel better, but there was no way in hell I wasn’t going to take this personally. The initial shock of the loss already transitioning to rage within the pit of my stomach. A rage that would only be quelled by justice. Although, right now I’d take Knight’s blood as a substitute.

  “You should have been lead counsel on this case, Callie. Everyone knows it, including Sterling,” Rob said.

  “It’s too late now,” I said. “We failed.”

  “Maybe someday Knight will get what he deserves,” Rob said.

  “Maybe,” I replied.

  As we reached the front of the courthouse, I was horrified to see John Knight standing at the top of the stairs, surrounded by reporters and spectators. It was bad enough he was free, but true to his twisted nature, Knight was using this moment as an opportunity to preach.

  “It’s truly a blessing to know that God’s protective hand has been on me during this trying ordeal,” I heard Knight say as we approached.

  With every word he spoke, my anger level rose.

  “I can only pray God’s mercy and healing upon young Elsie Miller and her family,” Knight continued, and I started toward him.

  Rob gently but firmly grabbed my elbow, pulling me to him. “Callie, don’t,” was all he said, and as much as I didn’t want to listen to him, I did.

  I knew Rob was looking out for me and my career, and as much as I didn’t give a rat’s ass about my job at the moment, bludgeoning a member of the clergy on the courthouse steps in front of a gaggle of reporters wasn’t a great plan.

  It was only after Knight said the following that my rage turned to something darker. Something that made my own personal wheels of justice begin to turn in the opposite direction.

  “Before I go and spend some much-needed time with family, I’d like to address the Miller family, if you are out there. I’d like to say that I forgive you. I forgive you with all of my heart for your misguided character assassination attempt on me and I pray for justice for whoever harmed your daughter.”

  “We need to find Elsie, right now,” I said to Rob, hoping and praying the Millers weren’t hearing any of this. “You look over there,” I said motioning to the east side of the building, “and I’ll check the other side.”

  I scanned the crowd until I saw the Millers on the opposite side of the steps. Far from the sound of John Knight’s voice for the moment, but not far enough from him for my liking. I would have preferred they be separated by thick concrete walls and iron bars.

  * * *

  Sweet Pea

  I had to hit someone in the face. Right fucking now.

  “Stay in a single file line! Have your claim tickets ready!” A faceless government employee called out from somewhere in the crowded hallway. The courthouse had a strict no cellphone policy and the high-profile nature of this case meant the phone return line for court observers was longer than usual. Once I’d reached the front of the line, I turned in my ticket, and powered my phone up the instant it was back in my h
ands. I called our club’s Sergeant at Arms and luckily, Clutch picked up right away.

  “What’s up, Pea?” Clutch shouted. I could tell from the background noise that he was at his gym.

  “You got anyone there lookin’ to spar?”

  “You want me to set you up a training schedule?” he asked.

  Our club had a stake in several businesses and Clutch Combat Sports was one of them. It had been a few months since I’d been in the ring, but today I needed some place to put my rage.

  “No, I mean right now. As in, right fuckin’ now.”

  “Oh, shit. The pastor didn’t walk, did he?” Clutch asked.

  “You got someone I can spar with or not?” I asked, unable to hide my anger.

  “Not if you’re in a shitty mood! Especially not your giant Viking ass. It’s hard enough for me to find guys your height, let alone anywhere near your size. Plus, I don’t have time to visit people in the fucking hospital right now, Sweet Pea.”

  “I’ll go half power, I swear.”

  “Who do you swear to exactly, religiously speaking? Does Odin take your calls directly?”

  “Come on, Clutch.”

  “Sorry, man. I can’t trust your lightning bolt throwin’ motherfucking ass. Come on down, I’ll tape you up really good and put you on the heavy bag until you can’t lift your arms anymore, but that’s it.”

  “Not good enough. I gotta make someone pay.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m not gonna put you in the ring right now,” he replied.

  I exited the building and hit the top of the courthouse steps. I was making my way through the swirling chaos of humanity when I spotted Callie Ames from the prosecution team. I’d had a hard time keeping my eyes off her the entire trial. In fact, I wondered if I would have made it to court quite so many times had she not been there. I’d seen her at previous family court hearings and was always struck by her beauty. Callie was tall, blonde and wore everything as if it was tailor made for her.

  She was talking with the Miller family, and I was surprised and moved to see her visibly crying with the families over the obvious injustice that had been committed against them. In court, Callie Ames was completely composed. She came across as highly professional, but without seeming cold. She was striking and elegant. More like a movie star cast as a lawyer than someone you’d expect to be the real thing. I’d been inside this courtroom more times than I could count, had seen my fair share of lawyers, and most of them looked more like Paul Giamatti than Blake Lively.