Good Gone Bad (The Fallen Men, #3)

by Giana Darling

I just wanted to be loved and Cricket did that. He did it so hard it left bruises; metaphorically at first, just around my heart like strangle marks, and then later, physically too.

Even submerged in a deep haze of shock, I knew him. I’d know Lionel Danner anywhere, anytime even if I was blind, deaf, and struck dumb.

My soul felt weak and failing in my chest and I wondered if murderers killed their goodness right along with their victim.

“You think I don’t know that under all that thorny sass you got a heart as tender as a budded rose, you can think again,” he said in that flat, sure tone.

A strong hand at the end of a strong arm on the body of the strongest man outside of the club that I’d ever known.

The only way to stop a man like Zeus Garro was to shoot him in the head or lie down in the face of his fury and hope it passed you over.

Wrath was one of the shiniest things I’d ever seen, so beautiful it was terrifying and so terrifying it was, to someone who appreciated such things, beautiful.

He flashed one of his rare, million dollar smiles and it hit me right in the womb.

Only problem was, Dad could get angrier than a bear coming out of hibernation, but Mum was like a rattlesnake, only one twitch away from coming at you with a venomous mouth.

God, the men in my family were sweet enough with their women to give a girl a goddamn toothache.

Born and raised a biker bitch, formed from biker sperm and in a bitch’s womb? My reaction wasn’t external, it bloomed in my heart like a bloody rose wrapped in poisonous thorns. My family was under threat and nothing in the world mattered so much as them, not even me.

We were such opposites, but so beautiful paired.

He looked at me as if his world began and ended in my gaze.

I wanted to rip Farrah in two and grind her into dust so the Devil could snort her in Hell.

🤣

if you die, I’ll go on breathing, but I won’t go on livin’ ’cause the most beautiful part of my life would have ceased to exist.”