Table of Contents
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
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Epilogue
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 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Epilogue
The Perfect Bastard
LK Collins
Contents
About LK Collins
The Perfect Bastard
Prologue
1. Present Day
2. Roan
3. Mia
4. Roan
5. Roan
6. Mia
7. Roan
8. Mia
9. Roan
10. Mia
11. Roan
12. Mia
13. Roan
14. Mia
15. Roan
16. Mia
17. Roan
18. Mia
19. Roan
20. Mia
21. Roan
22. Mia
23. Roan
24. Mia
25. Roan
26. Mia
27. Roan
28. Mia
29. Roan
30. Mia
31. Roan
32. Mia
33. Roan
34. Mia
35. Roan
36. Mia
37. Roan
38. Mia
39. Roan
40. Mia
41. Roan
42. Mia
43. Roan
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
For Our Readers
UNPLUGGED
Synopsis
1. Quinn
2. Merritt
3. Quinn
4. Merritt
5. Quinn
6. Merritt
7. Quinn
8. Merritt
9. Quinn
10. Merritt
11. Quinn
12. Merritt
13. Quinn
14. Merritt
15. Quinn
16. Merritt
17. Quinn
18. Merritt
19. Quinn
20. Merritt
21. Quinn
22. Merritt
23. Quinn
24. Merritt
25. Quinn
26. Merritt
27. Quinn
28. Merritt
29. Quinn
30. Merritt
31. Quinn
32. Merritt
33. Quinn
34. Merritt
35. Quinn
36. Merritt
37. Quinn
38. Merritt
39. Quinn
40. Merritt
41. Quinn
42. Merritt
43. Quinn
44. Merritt
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About LK Collins
LK Collins is the naughty alter ego for the husband-and-wife duo behind multiple bestselling and international bestselling novels. This real-life couple is downright dirty in the bedroom, which bleeds through the pages of their steaming hot stories. While LK writes the books, Mr. Collins, the tattooed god himself, is the mastermind behind so much of the page-turning sexiness.
If you are looking for a scorching read with chemistry so intense it jumps off the pages, then an LK novel is for you. From stand-alones to series, their stories will have you blushing and panting, ready to reread them the moment you’ve finished. The heroes are alpha, demanding, filthy-talking men that will do anything for their girl…or to get them.
For more from LK Collins, visit www.authorlkcollins.com
You can also stalk…I mean follow us even more here:
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The Perfect Bastard
Copyright © 2017 LK Collins
Cover Design by Prezident Collins
Edited by Ashley Williams, Adept Edits
Proofread by Janice Owen and Leticia Sidon
Photography by NejroN and Gemenacom
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.
Dedication
To my father, thank you for molding me into the woman that I am. I love you.
Prologue
Damn it, Roan, you told me you were done fighting. My wife, Georgia’s voice replays in my head, just like it always does when I walk through the front door of our Boston home. Except this time, she isn’t here to say it or to give me that look, the look that breaks my heart. It’s the same look I’ve grown to expect from her over the years—a mix of love lost and lies. But this is my life; it’s no one's fault but my own.
I could try to blame a million different things for why my life’s fucked up, but none of it would help Georgia to un
derstand who I am and why I have to do what I do. Regardless, I know where my anger stems from. It all began the first time my dad hit my mom. I was young, maybe eight when I saw it, and I will never forget the feeling of anger that brewed inside me. I lived scared for years, fearing what each day would bring us. Then, one night when I was fourteen, things got so bad that I couldn’t take her screams, so I tried to stop him. He beat the shit out of me. I always vowed to do everything I could to protect my mom. Unfortunately, she died of a drug overdose a few weeks later. Drugs were her way to numb the pain like fighting is for me.
I head into our bedroom, still looking for Georgia. She’s probably passed out drunk like she normally is. I think she’s testing the limits, seeing how far she can push me before I say something. Maybe she’s pushing because she wants me to say something, so I show her some interest. It’s our own fucked-up mental game that we play. I want her to stop drinking, but she won’t because I won’t stop fighting.
I glance into our bedroom, but she isn’t there. A light shining beneath the bathroom door down the hallway catches my eye. It’s the girls’ bathroom, and at this time of night, the light shouldn’t be on. I open the door and spot the two of them huddled on the bathroom floor. My world stops. Little Maisy, who is only five years old, is hunched over the toilet throwing up, and Rianna, who is just seven, is rubbing her back. I rush to their sides, and Rianna clings to me.
“What’s the matter?” I ask just as Maisy sits back on her heels. Without letting go of Rianna, I wipe Maisy’s mouth clean with a washcloth and then pull her tightly against my chest, too. The warmth of their little bodies is the reason for my existence and the only reason I stay in my dysfunctional marriage . . . it’s all for them.
“She woke up sick,” Rianna says. “But I couldn’t find Mommy.” Poor Maisy is exhausted, barely able to keep her eyes open. As much as Georgia and I have our issues, I fucking love her. If she isn’t home and left these girls alone, especially with Maisy sick, something’s wrong. My stomach churns in fear, knowing . . . something isn’t right.
“Did she tell you where she was going?”
“Uh-uh,” Rianna says through a yawn, and as I sit here with the two of them, nothing makes sense. I know Georgia, and no matter how messed up she is, she wouldn’t leave them. Would she?
Standing, I carry them both to Rianna’s bed and lay them down together. They have their own rooms but prefer to sleep with one another, which is okay with me. I pull the covers over top of them, and Rianna asks me, “Will you find Mommy?”
“Yes, baby. I will.”
“’Kay, night, Daddy.” Then she rolls over and closes her eyes. My reassurance settles her. I can see it come across her little face as she settles deeper into the pillow. She trusts me, as she should. I’m her father, I’m nothing like the man who raised me, and I swear to God, I’ll do anything to keep it that way—always.
“Night, baby girl,” I tell her and grab my phone from my pocket, dialing Georgia’s cell number as I close the girls’ door softly behind me. Her phone rings in the distance somewhere inside the house, and when I follow the noise, I spot it on my nightstand along with a handwritten note.
Roan,
I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not happy. This life we created is not what I want for myself or you or our girls. I’m a terrible mother. The demons inside me are so strong that they scare me some days, and I don’t want the girls to be affected. I hope you know that I love you and I always will.
Take care of my girls,
Georgia
Chapter 1
Present Day
After a hellish day, it feels so good to be home. I grab an ice pack from the freezer for my face and head into the basement and toward my daughters’ bedrooms. I was up at five this morning, got the girls off to school, did a full day at the office, and ended it all with a workout at the gym. I can still taste the blood in my mouth from the sucker punch I took while sparring tonight.
I open Maisy’s door and find her long blonde hair fanned out on her pillow. The room is silent and still as she peacefully sleeps. She may be twelve now, but she’ll always be my little girl. Careful not to wake her, I lean down and kiss her cheek, admiring how beautiful she is. She’s the spitting image of her mother, and sometimes the resemblance is too much to handle. The light is still on in Rianna’s room, which isn’t surprising. Poor girl never sleeps.
Georgia’s sudden departure was particularly hard on Rianna. She remembers so much about her mom and how it was after she left. For a long time, she missed her terribly, but as she grew older, that love and longing turned into anger. Still, to this day, it disturbs her. A fourteen-year-old shouldn’t have to struggle with anxiety like she does.
I reach for the door handle, twist it, and find it locked. “Ria?” I call out, “You up, baby?”
“Uhhh, yeah, one second, Dad.”
“Why’s the door locked?” I ask, jiggling the handle. She never locks it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to be.” She opens the door and stands in the way, blocking my entrance into her room. She looks entirely too nervous for someone who locked the door by accident.
“What’s going on?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“Nothing, what happened to you?” she asks, nodding to the ice pack I’m holding against my cheek.
“Oh, one of the guys got a little wild sparring tonight. Nothing to worry about.” And it’s the truth. After Georgia left, I stopped fighting and have been dealing with my issues another way—keeping everything bottled up. But none of that matters. I vowed to focus one hundred percent on the girls and always will.
Rianna is still blocking the doorway, so I glance over her shoulder and raise an eyebrow. “Can I come in?”
“I was just going to bed, Dad.”
“Then I’ll tuck you in.”
“Dad, I don’t need to be tucked in anymore.”
“Sure you do.” I push my way into her room. When I see what she is hiding, my fists ball at my sides. Anger consumes me, and the overwhelming need to kill the boy in her room engulfs me.
This is why I used to fight!
It kept my temper under control. Nowadays, it’s even harder not having the release like I used to, sparring helps, but it’s nothing compared to unleashing a beating upon someone. However, I can’t let myself get out of control.
“Sup, Mr. R.?” Nate, a young boy from down the street, asks without bothering to move from his spot.
On her bed!
Why is he in her room at this time of night? Why is he in the house at all while I’m not here? I take a deep breath through my nose and remind myself to not snap . . . he’s only a kid.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I ask Rianna, who’s chewing on her fingernail nervously. She looks at him and then me. In the moments I wait for her to respond, I swear to God it takes every single ounce of willpower I have not to drag him out of my house by the holes in his stretched earlobes. “We were studying,” he says, and I glance at him, not buying his bullshit lie for one second.
“At ten thirty at night?”
“Yeah,” Rianna agrees.
“Where’s your backpack, Nate?”
“What do you mean, Mr. R.?”
“To study?”
Jesus, this kid is fucking stupid.
“Oh, snap, I left it at school, that’s why I came over so Ria could help me.”
Don’t call her that!
Rianna’s eyes are now firmly locked on the floor, and she’s chomping her nail as if it’s her meal ticket out of here. “Nate, it’s time for you to leave.” My voice is barely audible as I speak through gritted teeth, but he understands every word I say.
I just want him gone.
“All right, have a good night then.” He has the balls to wink at Rianna before looking her up and down as if he could eat her. The way he stares as he walks out of her bedroom makes me lose it. I reach over and take him by the throat, slamming his skinny frame against th
e wall.
“Dad, don’t!” Rianna yells and pulls at me. I don’t move. I just look into his scared, pathetic eyes and force myself to remember that they are kids. I loosen my grip and tell him, “I don’t want to ever see you in my home or around my daughter again, you got it?” He nods rapidly, and when I let him go, he stumbles up the stairs and out of my house, coughing the whole way.
“You can’t do that, Dad,” Rianna yells at me, clearly pissed off. When I turn toward her, her T-shirt is twisted from clawing at me, and I see a hickey on her chest. It makes my stomach queasy. It can’t be real . . . can it? My hand moves in slow motion, as if they too think my eyes are playing tricks on me, and I push the fabric out of the way, exposing another hickey on her.
She’s covered in them.
She swats at my hand, and I dart into her bathroom, barely making it to the toilet as the remnants of what’s left in my stomach creeps up the back of my throat.
In this moment as I kneel on the floor, I can truly say I am the world’s biggest failure as a father. She is my little girl, and what she is doing . . . oh God, I get sick again. They would’ve been better off with a drunken Georgia than with me.
Chapter 2
Roan
I didn’t sleep for shit last night. I’m sure Rianna feels just the same. She wouldn’t talk to me or look at me after what happened, and I guess I can’t blame her. Maybe I should’ve been a little more understanding and not let my temper get the better of me. I should’ve talked to her instead of freaking out, but all my restraint was gone the moment I saw those hickeys. It was almost an out of body experience.
For fuck’s sake, she’s only fourteen . . . well, almost fifteen, but still, we haven’t even had the birds and the bees talk . . . I hadn’t thought I needed to have one with the girls yet.
Jesus Christ, we do.
As I get dressed, I wonder how the hell I’m supposed to do that. Goddamn Georgia for leaving, it’s times like this that I hate her the most. The times when the girls really need their mom, but she’s not here. No, instead of being here for the two people she helped create, she’s off on some wild bender, probably drinking herself into oblivion. There’s only so much I can do as a man raising two girls all alone.