CONVICT: An Unfit Hero Novel Read online

  CONVICT

  An Unfit Hero Novel

  Hayley Faiman

  Contents

  Also By Hayley Faiman

  Stay Connected

  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

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Prologue

  About the Author

  Special Thanks

  CONVICT

  Copyright © 2018 by Hayley Faiman

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Designer & Editor: My Brother’s Editor. Ellie McLove. http://www.mybrotherseditor.net

  Proofreading: iScream Proofreading Services. Rosa Sharon. http://www.iscreamproofreading.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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

  Visit my website at http://hayleyfaiman.com

  ISBN- 9781796222029

  Created with Vellum

  Also By Hayley Faiman

  Men of Baseball Series—

  Pitching for Amalie

  Catching Maggie

  Forced Play for Libby

  Sweet Spot for Victoria

  Russian Bratva Series—

  Owned by the Badman

  Seducing the Badman

  Dancing for the Badman

  Living for the Badman

  Tempting the Badman

  Protected by the Badman

  Forever my Badman

  Betrothed to the Badman

  Chosen by the Badman

  Bought by the Badman

  Collared by the Badman

  Notorious Devils MC—

  Rough & Rowdy

  Rough & Raw

  Rough & Rugged

  Rough & Ruthless

  Rough & Ready

  Rough & Rich

  Rough & Real

  Cash Bar Series—

  Laced with Fear

  Chased with Strength

  Flamed with Courage

  Blended with Pain

  Twisted with Chaos (April 2019)

  Forbidden Love Series —

  Personal Foul

  Kinetic Energy

  SAVAGE BEAST MC –

  UnScrew Me

  UnBreak Me – March 2019

  Unfit Hero Series –

  CONVICT

  Standalone Titles

  Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale

  Stay Connected

  Website: http://hayleyfaiman.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorhayleyfaiman

  Facebook Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/433234647091715/

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/10735805.Hayley_Faiman

  Signup for my Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/b5a_1v

  Reader Group:

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  Any time you start judging with an overly critical eye rather than letting things just be, and following what you think is right, it's complicated to find balance.

  Juliette Lewis

  Prologue

  RYLAN

  I stare at my reflection in the stainless steel version of a mirror. The only mirror I’ll be allowed to use for the next five years. It’s only been months, but I look a lot older than I did the day I walked into this place. A convict. For the rest of my life, I’ll carry this title with me. A black stain on my soul. One that I deserve.

  Vehicular Manslaughter.

  In reality—murder.

  I’m a murderer.

  My blond hair hangs in front of my eyes. My light brown eyes stare back at me. They’re as dead as the lives I took. Five years, if I’m a good boy. I’ll get out of this hell in five years, but the lives I stole? They’re gone forever.

  My mix of color and black tattoos that cover my body stare back at me. Lifting my hand, I scrub it over my face. My hand and finger tattoos look distorted in this sad attempt of a mirror. I look distorted, or maybe that’s just the way I appear now. Maybe that’s how the world sees me. I can’t expect anyone to see me any differently than I see myself, can I?

  “Lindsay, times’ up,” the guard shouts.

  Pushing away from the sink, and shit excuse for a mirror, I turn away from the bathroom. Walking toward him, I lift my chin once I’m in his view. His angry eyes swirl as he looks down at me. He’s made my time here almost unbearable. If I gave a damn about what he thought of me, I might be offended by how much he truly hates me without knowing a fucking thing about the man that I am—or at least trying to be.

  “Punk,” he grunts.

  Pressing my lips together in a firm line, I ignore his word. He isn’t wrong. I was a punk. Constantly drunk and high. Selfish. Young, dumb, and full of cum. I had zero ambition. My only goal in life was to sell enough dope to keep myself comfortable in my own habit, and fuck. I liked to fuck, though I have a feeling that’s just part of being human.

  Not hard to do in a little Podunk town in Texas where you’re one of the best, and most well-known dealers, and fucks, not to toot my own horn. Following behind the guard, I think about my past. I could blame my shit childhood. However, I know people who were raised in worse environments, who are living and breathing clean, free air. Who haven’t murdered.

  I allowed myself to become a product of my environment. It was just easier than working hard and climbing out of the shithole I’d been created in. So, instead, I swam in the shit I’d been born into. Then, I turned into my father. A drunk and a junkie, except my father never spent more than a few months in jail. Not like me doing a stint in prison.

  In five years I’ll be free. Until then, I’ll do my time, quietly. Keep my head down and then come out of this a better person—hopefully, maybe, possibly.

  Walking back into my cell, I sit down on the edge of my shitty fucking cot and I pull out paper and a golf cart pencil that I bought myself recently. I think about writing a letter to my mom, maybe she wouldn’t use the paper to roll up and snort her dope. Though I fucking highly doubt that shit.

  Tossing it to the side, I instead lay down on my back. Staring at the ceiling, I wonder how many men like me have laid here.

  How many men have royally fucked up their lives at the age of twenty-five?

  How many men have been released only to return?

  Will I survive? Thrive? Fail? Die?

  Death would be deserving for my actions, for the pain that I have caused an entire goddamn family.

  Death would be too good of an ending. Too easy.

  I deserve
to suffer.

  CHANNING

  THREE YEARS LATER

  He watches me from the front of the room, hiding most of his body behind a small podium. I bite the corner of my lip as he grins over at me. Tall, dark, handsome and my teacher. He’s older, but only by five years. He’s sexy, forbidden, and I should be running away from him.

  I shouldn’t be shifting in my seat, crossing my leg a little too high so that my skirt shows more of my thigh beneath the desk. His eyes flick down, and a thrill shimmies up my spine. It’s so wrong. So incredibly wrong. The way he watches me, the things he says to me when we’re alone, I can’t help but feel that this is so right though. He wants me, he craves me, and soon we’re going to be together, for real.

  The bell rings, students stand and gather their backpacks leaving class for the day. This is the last period and I can’t wait until everyone just goes. This has become a bit of tradition for Mr. Bridges and me. Once the classroom is empty. I watch as he walks over to the door. He sticks his key into the bar, twisting it, and locks it, then turns to face me.

  “You’ve tempted me all afternoon, Miss Shephard,” he smiles.

  He looks exactly like a wolf, and I feel like Little Red Riding Hood, except I’m excited for him to devour me. I can’t wait until he does.

  “Did you tell your wife about us?” I ask as I stand from my desk.

  His eyes darken as he looks at me from across the room. “Channing, you know that I can’t. Not yet. You’re still enrolled in school. Once you’ve graduated, then we’ll talk. She has me by the balls, you know that.”

  I bite the corner of my lip, lowering my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I breathe.

  He closes the distance between us and I feel his finger beneath my chin. He lifts my head, his gaze searching my own. He smiles softly, then lowers his face closer to my own. His lips touch mine, they’re soft just like his hands.

  “You know how I feel about you, Channing. You’re the only one who understands me. You’re the only one who makes me happy. I have to deal with her, and soon she’ll be gone, and we can be together.” His voice is barely above a whisper, and before I can respond, he slips his tongue inside of my mouth.

  He backs me up until my ass hits his desk. Slowly he breaks our kiss, his lips traveling down my neck, to the swells of my breasts. His fingers wrap around my hips and he turns me around. He places his hand on the center of my back, pushing me over so that my ass is in the air. I hear him take his phone out, he always does. He likes to watch later, and I can’t deny that I love that.

  “Fuck,” he grunts as he flips my skirt up.

  I wore this skirt for him, because I know how much he likes me in them. His fingers grip my panties before he tugs them down my legs. My thighs shake when I feel his cock at my entrance. He pushes inside of me.

  Pinching my eyes closed, I inhale through my nose. It burns as he enters me, but I know he likes it this way. He says it feels better for him. I want nothing more than to make him happy. Whatever he wants. It’s his.

  His hand wraps around the back of my neck and he holds me down, my cheek pressed against the hard wood. He fucks me, my hips slamming against the edge of the desk with each thrust. I’ll have bruises later, and I’ll run my fingers over them as I reminisce about this perfect moment.

  “Fuck,” he grunts as he thrusts in and out of me.

  It doesn’t take long for wetness to gather between my legs, and my body to begin to enjoy the way he fills me—the way he moves inside of me.

  “Yes,” I hiss as his fingers tighten around the back of my neck.

  “Fuck, this tight pussy. So good,” he mumbles as his jerks become less rhythmic. “So tight. So good,” he chants.

  When he stills, I feel his release fill me. I’m not even close to reaching my own climax, but later I’ll go home and bring myself there, remembering just how much he likes the way I feel, just how much I turn him on.

  He releases my neck and folds over my back, his chest pressing against me, his weight heavy, but I welcome it all. His lips touch the spot where my neck and shoulder meet. “I wish we could be alone, together, not like this,” I breathe.

  “Soon, Channing. Soon we will be together,” he rasps as he pulls out of me.

  I straighten my skirt, pulling my panties back up my legs. I feel his release pool in them, and the naughtiness makes my cheeks tint pink. “Do you? Do you sleep with her too?” I ask, speaking of his wife.

  That darkness in his eyes, it appears again. I watch as he shoves his phone into his pocket before he lifts his hand, cupping my cheek with a smile.

  “Of course not. Now that I have you, and we have this, I couldn’t imagine being inside of anyone else. There’s only you, Channing. Besides, why would I go to her, when I can have your tight pussy wrapped around me? She feels nowhere near as good as you do,” he winks.

  My face feels hot at his words. Embarrassment rushes through me as he talks about how I feel, down there. I bite my bottom lip, my eyes staying connected to his. He brushes his lips across mine. “Go home, Channing. Maybe we can meet up after the football game Friday?” he asks.

  Inhaling a breath, my lips break out into a huge smile and I nod. “Yes,” I sigh.

  With an extra bounce to my step, I quickly leave the classroom, excited for Friday night and what is to come. Mr. Bridges and I are going to have the most beautiful future, I can just feel it, down to my bones. I can’t wait until I graduate and we can finally be together.

  Soon.

  It’s going to happen so soon, I can practically taste it.

  Chapter One

  RYLAN

  TWO YEARS LATER

  I squint as I look around. Everything is just a little bit brighter than it was behind those gates. I’m free. Although, I don’t quite feel it, yet. Will I ever? I don’t know. Probably not. I have a suspicion that the feeling of being watched, of constantly having to look over my shoulder is something that will never go away.

  There is nobody waiting for me on the other side of the prison wall. No bitch to call my own who has been pining for me. No parent who has missed their bouncing baby boy.

  Nobody.

  Nothing.

  Just like the last five years.

  Not one visitor.

  I don’t feel sorry for myself, not really. I deserve so much worse. At least I’m breathing. I’m alive, unlike the people I killed. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I walk toward the parking lot. There’s a bus depot at the end of this road, and I have just enough money to buy a one-way ticket to my hometown, thanks to the state of Texas.

  Maybe I shouldn’t go back. I’ll probably slip into the same old shit, but I need to try to be better. To be a better person. I need to try.

  Not for myself.

  I need to try for the two lives I cut short. If it was all for nothing, then I should just walk my ass right back into that prison and rot for the rest of my days. I won’t let my past, my childhood, define me anymore. I’m better than that, better than my parents. I have to be.

  Walking up to the ticket counter, I look at the weathered man who sits there. He looks solemn, angry at the world, and I don’t blame him. It’s easy to be pissed off. So fucking easy.

  “Where you headed?” he barks, his voice hoarse and rough.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I release it with a sigh. “Burnet, Texas,” I rumble.

  He eyes me suspiciously, obvious as to where I’m coming from. He probably sees a dozen released inmates a month come through here. I doubt he trusts even a single one of us, I know that I wouldn’t—not in a million years.

  “You cause any trouble, the drivers carry, and you’ll be hauled right fuckin’ back here, boy,” he growls, pointing over to the prison walls behind me.

  I lift my chin, not bothering to let this man’s words get to me. There is no reason to be angry. He’s looking at me, right at me, and judging me as he rightfully should. He knows I’m a convict. It’s what I am. There is no other way to describe me. Other than murderer.
I will be this tainted man for the rest of my life—forever known as a murderer and convict.

  “Understood,” I nod.

  He narrows his blue eyes and nods as well as he hands me the ticket. I thank him and walk over to a bench. Sitting down, I stretch my legs out in front of me. I haven’t seen my hometown in five years. Haven’t heard any of the small town gossip. Haven’t even heard the score of a high school football game. Nothing.

  Chuckling, I look down at my hands as they rest on my knees. Football. I miss seeing the Bulldogs on a Friday night. More so, I miss the minuscule town I’m actually from. It isn’t Burnet, though that’s where I went to school. My town is so small it doesn’t even have a high school. In fact, it doesn’t have any school. We were bussed in to attend classes.

  Gallup, Texas. Population, four-hundred-sixty-eight. That’s where I have always called home. We have one gas station and two stop signs. County roads, all dirt and gravel. One trailer park, where naturally I grew up, and a general store. That is my town. All that there is. A bunch of dirt roads, and houses way off the main road.

  I close my eyes as I wait for the bus to show. Letting out a sigh, I scrub my hand over my face. I feel another person’s presence and look to my right. It’s a girl. Young, pretty, petite. She glances over at me and smiles, her cheeks tinting pink.