Home > Lucas (Savage Kings MC - South Carolina, #11)

Lucas (Savage Kings MC - South Carolina, #11)
Author: Lane Hart





Lucas Bennett hasn’t been able to catch a break lately.

At the top of his growing list of disasters is the ongoing feud with Jake, his former best friend. It hasn’t helped that the two are also prospects competing against each other for the single spot with the Savage Kings MC.

Lucas thought his luck was finally changing after he made a courageous rescue, saving a beautiful woman from two huge guards and the evil man holding her hostage.

But, as it turns out, he screwed up and saved the wrong woman.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the girl he helped escape just so happens to be the younger sister of the club’s current enemy.

Taryn Hawthorne is fed up with being locked away from the world her entire life and treated like a child. Even her future has been decided without her approval. In two months, she’ll be forced to marry a man she’s never met. So, when a stranger shows up and offers her a way out, she jumps at the chance.

Once Taryn is free, she insists that she’ll never return home. That decision could very well start a war between her family and the Savage Kings MC.

Lucas didn’t sign up to be anyone’s babysitter, and yet, he’s stuck not only protecting Taryn but making sure she doesn’t run away, all with one simple warning – don’t lay a finger on her. She’s a handful, trying to get twenty years of confinement out of her system in a matter of days. Worst of all, Taryn won’t stop trying to seduce Lucas, tempting him with what he can’t have. He’s still getting over a broken heart and isn’t ready to get burnt again, even if she wasn’t off-limits.

When the Kings find out that the man Taryn is supposed to marry is looking for her, killing anyone who gets in his way, she’s terrified of being a prisoner once again. Lucas vows to keep her safe, and not just because it’s his job.

It may be the biggest challenge of his life, but he can’t fathom losing her.

Taryn is his to protect now and forever.






Taryn Hawthorne



I don’t understand.

Why does my oldest brother get to not only choose the woman he’s going to marry but then decide to pick someone else at the last minute, right before the ceremony?

I can’t even choose who I want to date! Hell, I’m not even allowed to date!

What’s the point when my father has been telling me for years, ever since I can remember, that I have to marry the man he chose for me.

Is he telling my other two brothers who they have to marry? No, it’s just me.

At least I got to leave the house today for a few hours to go to Myrtle Beach for the wedding.

When I return to my bedroom that night, or to my prison cell as I prefer to think of it, I go stand in front of the full-length mirror to take in the long, formal, one-shoulder bridesmaid dress.

I didn’t get to pick it, just like I’m not allowed to pick any of my clothes, but it’s still beautiful. I feel like a princess in it and look my actual age instead of like a tall, twelve-year-old girl.

Since I’m not ready to take it off just yet, I go over to the double windows overlooking our sprawling estate. There’s a spectacular ocean view tonight, the sky painted in pinks and purples as the sun begins to set.

I should be grateful for the many privileges in my life, thanks to my family’s wealth.

But the truth is, I would trade it all in a heartbeat to have a white knight climb up to my window and rescue me.

In fact, he doesn’t even have to be a handsome knight.

I would be happy with a rescue from even a Shrek.

Anyone would have to be better than the man I’m supposed to marry. How do I know? Because of the things he makes me do to “prepare” myself for him.

But waiting for someone to come along and save me is childish and naïve.

Maybe I don’t need anyone else’s help. I could run away on my own. I just have to keep putting in my miles every day, working to get faster until I can outrun the bodyguards that are always with me.

As big as they all are, it shouldn’t take me that long to build up my speed and endurance.

Still, the clock is ticking.

My twenty-first birthday is only sixty-nine days away.

After that, well, if I had to guess, my new husband will probably treat me like an actual captive. He hasn’t waited years just to have me run away from him as soon as possible.

So, it’s now or never.

Being on my own in the world won’t be easy, I’m sure, not after being sheltered from it for so long, but I’ll figure things out. I’ll meet people, make friends, have a normal life built on my own decisions.

Nothing out in the real world can be worse than twenty years of loneliness.






Lucas Bennett



Sitting in the tattoo chair, getting my first ink right over my bullet wound scar, is painful, but it’s the least I can do.

I don’t even try to peek at it, afraid that if I move even a centimeter, I might make the tattoo artist fuck up.

Even if Jake decided to give me a My Little Pony tattoo, I wouldn’t really care. He’s actually talking to me again voluntarily for the first time in four years.

I wish Leighton had picked me instead of him, but she didn’t. It doesn’t matter that I love her, that she was my first, or that I haven’t stopped stalking her on social media since the day she left town. She’s made her decision. She and Jake belong together. They have ever since we were in high school. That’s why I took my shot with her instead of putting in a good word for him. She had been my best friend since middle school, and I honestly thought she should choose me.

Jake I’ve known since I was four. He wasn’t my best friend; he was my brother. We’ve done nearly everything together our entire lives. And losing Leighton and Jake both in the same day, well, it hurt. Bad. Like an unrelenting tattoo gun injecting ink into my heart.

“All finished,” the artist tells me as she wipes down my upper arm with a rag.

“How does it look?” I ask her.

“Well, not to brag or anything, but I think it turned out amazing.”


“Ready to see it?” she asks.

I glance over at Jake on the other side of the studio. He’s still sitting in the chair getting his design that I picked out for him.

That was our deal. I picked his ink, and he picked mine without either of us knowing what the fuck we were getting ourselves into. It’s a way to prove to Leighton that we’re friends again. Hopefully.

“Yeah, let me see it,” I say as I stand up to walk over to the wall-length mirror. I haven’t spent much time facing my own reflection lately because I’m not proud of myself. While I’m tall, I’m still lean, a boy among a group of men in the club.

Still, there’s no avoiding the mirror this time. I take a deep breath and then turn to the side to look at my left arm.


It’s nothing I could’ve imagined or even thought to pick for myself. Yet somehow, the mountain scene inside of a circle with a blacked-out forest silhouette still manages to include some of my favorite camping memories from our teenage years.

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