Cannon (Savage Kings MC - South Carolina Book Series 5) Lane Hart (books to read for beginners .TXT) 📖

sclerosis got worse, dad had to quit his job to help take care of her. Since then, Conrad and I have been providing the financial support they need to get by and for medical insurance and bills.

“The rest of the Kings are in the same position we are,” I remark. “But maybe the club could host a fundraiser?”

“Yeah, that could work,” Conrad agrees. “The group has a lot of friends.”

“Tomorrow, Madison Monroe is officially announcing her run. I’ll try and talk to her to warn her and see what else we can do to help.”

Here’s hoping she’s as brave as Hannah thinks she is. If not, and she finds out that the former police chief is going to be coming at her, she may decide it’s not worth the trouble. Then we’ll all be fucked.

Chapter Three

Madison

With one minute before noon, I’m shocked to get a text from my mom telling me to break a leg. I’m not sure if that’s the appropriate sentiment or not, but at least she remembered that I’m making my official announcement today. There’s nothing from my dad, though, which is no surprise. I learned a long time ago that if I don’t depend on anyone but myself, then I won’t be let down.

“You ready?” Lily asks.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I say before I walk up to the lectern at the top of the red brick stairs leading into the City Hall building. I’m freezing my ass off in my white pantsuit with only two reporters and one camera interested enough to attend my press conference announcing my candidacy for mayor. Lily and Vanessa are also in attendance but not Harlen since he’s still in class. There’s a grand total of five people gathered around, which is not an auspicious start to my campaign.

Oh, but at the last second before I start, a tall, blond guy in leather and ripped, well-worn jeans walks up and casually leans his shoulder against a nearby palm tree. There’s a grin on his face, like he happened to wander through at just the right time to catch the show and thinks it’s all hilarious. Great. My staff, a couple of reporters, and a bum. It’s a pathetic turnout, but everyone has to start somewhere.

The microphone is on but unnecessary as I begin speaking. I could whisper and everyone would hear me.

I try not to let my disappointment show as I talk about all the great plans I have for the city if I’m elected mayor – growing the tourism business, revitalizing the downtown area, and bringing more arts and innovation to the entire area. I want the city to be more of a safe, family destination than just a party beach town where anything goes.

When I’m finished, there’s not even any applause. I simply walk down the steps, and the two bloggers and camera man simply walk away, looking unimpressed.

There’s no turning back now, I think to myself as I start walking over to Lily and Vanessa, who are heading to their cars at the curb to try and escape the cold.

“Great speech, Miss Monroe,” the blond man, who is still lurking by the palm tree, says as he pushes off it and approaches me. His voice is deep and smooth like velvet, especially when it sounds like it wraps itself around my name. Both of his hands are casually buried in his front jean pockets like he’s cold too, but he walks with the kind of swagger that exudes confidence or more than likely, a ton of arrogance, as if nothing ever really gets to him – not even the winter weather.

“Thanks,” I reply, keeping my distance from him as I head in the opposite direction toward where my team is gathered. Now that I’m on level ground with the man, he seems bigger than he did when I was up on the steps. He’s well over six feet tall and wide enough in the chest and shoulders to confirm he’s no stranger to the gym.

“Too bad there was no one here to hear it,” he adds from behind my back. His comment makes me grit my teeth because now he’s just being a dick, stating the obvious.

I ignore him and keep walking, only slowing down when he says, “Really? That’s how you’re going to be? You’ll never win if you act like a stuck-up bitch whenever a well-intentioned voter tries to engage with you.”

I finally stop and spin around on my heels to march back up to him, all out of niceties since the entire morning has been a huge flop. Most likely, so will my campaign. “What do you want?” I ask when we’re only standing about three feet apart.

When both of his eyebrows that are slightly darker than his golden hair lift at the question and his grin grows even bigger, I realize he took the question much differently than I intended. He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s eyeing me from head to toe like he’s wondering what I look like naked.

“I don’t have time for this,” I say before turning to walk away from him for the second time. I wasn’t expecting him to jog and catch up with me so fast that he’s suddenly a brick wall in front of me, standing so close that he blocks out everything else around us, even the chilly coastal wind. I can even feel his body heat and smell his rich, mouthwatering cologne that’s a little bit overkill, like he’s trying to overwhelm all the senses.

On most women, all he probably has to do is flash them a smile and they’ll follow him home. That kind of bullshit playboy charm has never worked on me, and it never will.

“We need to talk, preferably someplace a little more private and indoors,” he says, his voice lowered like he’s afraid someone will overhear us. The two media representatives and cameraman have left, which means only my two employees are nearby. “Let me buy