If You Say So (KPD Motorcycle Patrol Book 6) Read online

  If You Say So

  Book 6 of The KPD Motorcycle Patrol Series

  By

  Lani Lynn Vale

  Text copyright ©2019 Lani Lynn Vale

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a 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.

  Dedication

  One day I’m going to get to the point where I know what to put here. I’m not there yet, though. Happy Mother’s Day.

  If it’s not Mother’s Day when you’re reading this, it was here when I wrote this particular dedication, so that still counts, right?

  Acknowledgments

  Jake Wellon - Model

  Golden Czermak - Photographer

  Ellie McLove & Ink It Out Editing- My Editors

  Cover Me Darling - Cover Artist

  My mom - Thank you for reading this book eight million two hundred times.

  Kendra, Lisa, Laura, Kathy, Mindy, Barbara & Amanda—I don’t know what I would do without y’all. Thank you, my lovely betas, for loving my books as much as I do.

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Prologue

  Prologue II

  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

  Epilogue

  Do you Follow me?

  What’s Next?

  Other titles by Lani Lynn Vale:

  The Freebirds

  Boomtown

  Highway Don’t Care

  Another One Bites the Dust

  Last Day of My Life

  Texas Tornado

  I Don’t Dance

  The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC

  Lights To My Siren

  Halligan To My Axe

  Kevlar To My Vest

  Keys To My Cuffs

  Life To My Flight

  Charge To My Line

  Counter To My Intelligence

  Right To My Wrong

  Code 11- KPD SWAT

  Center Mass

  Double Tap

  Bang Switch

  Execution Style

  Charlie Foxtrot

  Kill Shot

  Coup De Grace

  The Uncertain Saints

  Whiskey Neat

  Jack & Coke

  Vodka On The Rocks

  Bad Apple

  Dirty Mother

  Rusty Nail

  The Kilgore Fire Series

  Shock Advised

  Flash Point

  Oxygen Deprived

  Controlled Burn

  Put Out

  I Like Big Dragons Series

  I Like Big Dragons and I Cannot Lie

  Dragons Need Love, Too

  Oh, My Dragon

  The Dixie Warden Rejects

  Beard Mode

  Fear the Beard

  Son of a Beard

  I’m Only Here for the Beard

  The Beard Made Me Do It

  Beard Up

  For the Love of Beard

  Law & Beard

  There’s No Crying in Baseball

  Pitch Please

  Quit Your Pitchin’

  Listen, Pitch

  The Hail Raisers

  Hail No

  Go to Hail

  Burn in Hail

  What the Hail

  The Hail You Say

  Hail Mary

  The Simple Man Series

  Kinda Don’t Care

  Maybe Don’t Wanna

  Get You Some

  Ain’t Doin’ It

  Too Bad So Sad

  Bear Bottom Guardians MC

  Mess Me Up

  Talkin’ Trash

  How About No

  My Bad

  One Chance, Fancy

  It Happens

  Castiel and Turner

  Snitches Get Stitches

  F-Bomb

  KPD Motorcycle Patrol

  Hide Your Crazy

  It Wasn’t Me

  I’d Rather Not

  Make Me

  Sinners are Winners

  If You Say So

  SWAT 2.0

  Just Kidding (1-7-20)

  Fries Before Guys (2-11-20)

  Maybe Swearing Will Help (3-10-20)

  Ask Me If I Care (4-14-20)

  May Contain Wine (5-12-20)

  Jokes on You (6-9-20)

  Join the Club (7-14-20)

  Any Day Now (8-11-20)

  Say it Ain’t So (9-8-20)

  Officially Over It (10-13-20)

  Nobody Knows (11-3-20)

  Depends Who’s Asking (12-8-20)

  Valentine Boys (early 2020)

  Herd That

  Crazy Heifer

  Chute Yeah

  Get Bucked

  Blurb

  Gabriel Luca Maldonado, III and Francesca Leandra Solomon were meant to be. They were so in love that everybody prayed for what they had.

  Everything was glorious. They would get married, have children and live a perfect life. She would be a doctor in the emergency room once she finished her doctorate, and he would be a badass Navy SEAL and save people for a living.

  But then Luca is deployed across the world, and per military regulations, Frankie isn’t allowed to follow.

  They’ve overcome a lot in their short relationship, and they can overcome this, too. Two years was a piece of cake. She’d finish her schooling and wait for him. And when he finally returned home, they would marry.

  But two months into Luca’s deployment, the unthinkable happens, and Frankie is left alone and heartbroken, knowing that she’ll have to face the rest of life without Luca at her side.

  ***

  Fast forward two years and Frankie is exactly where her fiancé’s father left her, in a pit of despair that she has no hope of ever finding her way out of.

  She lives life one second at a time, depressed and alone, hoping tomorrow won’t hurt like today.

  She finds a job, moves, and hopes that the nightmares won’t swallow her whole.

  But just as she thinks that she’s getting better, one of her nightmares walks through the doors of her ER, and that nightmare has a name.

  Gabriel Luca Maldonado, III. In the flesh.

  Also healthy and whole, and definitely no longer missing.

  Sadly, it only takes her a half a second to realize that the man that left her isn’t the same man that returned.

  The old one wanted her. The new one? Well, he’s definitely not interested anymore.

  Prologue

  I let a short dude cuddle me once. It felt like I had a backpack on.

  -Coffee Cup

  Frankie
/>   Two years ago

  “I’ll take care of him,” Malachi promised.

  I smiled at Malachi, knowing that he would.

  Then Malachi was gone, leaving me with Luca, who was staring at me like he’d just killed my puppy.

  “Luca, it’s okay,” I promised. “I’ll be okay.”

  He walked to me, pressing his forehead against mine as he cupped the sides of my face, and exhaled softly.

  “You’re okay. But I’m not.”

  I closed my eyes at those words.

  I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry.

  I was in an online support group for military wives and girlfriends.

  My post last week had gone something like this: My fiancé is leaving for two years. He’s going to be gone while I finish my schooling. The announcement of his impending departure came as a rather large surprise, and we didn’t have a chance to marry. Now, he’s leaving in three days, and I’m being left behind. What do I do?

  The responses had varied, but all of them had an underlying tone of ‘don’t cry and make him feel bad for leaving. It’s not his fault. Be strong. Fall apart when he’s gone.’

  So that was what I was going to do.

  I was going to be strong now.

  I was going to be strong, and I was going to hold it all together.

  And once he was gone, then I would fall apart.

  “I love you, Luca,” I whispered. “And no, I’m not okay. But it’ll be okay.”

  He used his thumbs to tip my chin up. Then his mouth was on mine, and everything really was okay with the world.

  For a few seconds, everything was perfect.

  Then his lips left mine when the announcement of his departure was only thirty minutes away.

  “Love you,” he rasped.

  The moment his hands left my face, my heart started to pound.

  “Love you, too,” I repeated.

  He took a step back, and I took him in one more time, in all his uniformed glory.

  “Come back to me,” I told him. “Exactly like this. Whole and healthy. When you get back, we’re getting married. And then we’ll have babies.”

  His grin was nothing short of magnificent.

  “Lots and lots of babies.”

  Then he was gone.

  His friend, Malachi, who’d waited for him since they were leaving together, waved and then they both rounded the corner of the building, rendering me unable to see them any longer.

  And the worst, most god awful feeling washed over me.

  Panic set in, and my hands started shaking.

  “Keep it together, girl,” my dad, Coke Solomon, warned.

  I swallowed hard.

  “The worst sense of foreboding just rocketed through me,” I rasped. “As if that’s the last time I’ll ever see them together.”

  My dad’s arm went around my neck, and he pulled me into his hard chest.

  “It’ll be okay,” he promised. “You just gotta have faith.”

  Faith. Right.

  I’d be faithful as fuck.

  “I’m scared,” I whispered, feeling the tears start to well.

  I was just about to turn around and leave when Luca came barreling around the corner.

  My breath hitched, and my dad let me go.

  Before I could even ask him what was up, he once again had me in his arms.

  “One last hug,” he said breathlessly.

  I laughed, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed his temple, slightly dislodging his hat.

  Then, just as quickly, he set me down.

  “Now, I really have to go. Fuck, I’m late.”

  Then, for good this time, he was gone.

  I just had no idea how gone he really was.

  ***

  One and a half years ago

  I smiled, so happy to see my fiancé’s parents on the doorstep that I ran to them and wrapped them in a hug without first taking in the look on both of their faces.

  “I can’t believe y’all are here!” I cried out. “What are y’all doing here?”

  I’d started my first year of residency just yesterday, and I was a mess.

  After eight years of school crammed into five years—sometimes it really paid to be a genius—one would think that residency training would be a piece of cake.

  Let me tell you something. It wasn’t.

  It was hard. The hours were long and grueling, and everybody looked at and treated me like a child.

  Then again, compared to most of them, I was.

  I’d graduated high school early. Then college early. Starting medical school an entire three years earlier than even the youngest of normal students.

  Needless to say, I was a child in their eyes.

  It felt good to see Gabe and Ember, though.

  I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed a hug until they were squeezing me like their life depended on it.

  “I had a really bad day yesterday,” I said, throat closing as I remembered. “And now you’re here, and whew, it was like that bad day is just erased.”

  I slowly let them go and stepped back, a large, jovial smile on my face.

  That smile fell right off when I saw that Ember was crying, and Gabe was looking at me like I’d just slapped him.

  “What?” I whispered.

  The door behind my fiancé’s parents opened, and my father walked in.

  His face was a mask of stillness.

  Not a single emotion was in his expression.

  “Daddy?”

  Ember had my hand in hers moments later.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “Dad, why did you drive so far when you know I have to go to the hospital in…” I trailed off when my dad stepped up and cupped my face between his big hands.

  “Baby, hush,” he whispered. “Listen.”

  So I listened.

  And I never realized what it would feel like—losing your soul.

  But I imagine it would feel something like how I was feeling now.

  Lost. Empty. Alone. Scared. Sad. Sick to my stomach.

  Luca is missing.

  ***

  One year ago

  “He’s still missing,” Daddy said.

  ***

  Six months ago

  “There’s still nothing, honey,” Gabe’s deep, saddened voice said.

  ***

  Three months ago

  “Malachi was found,” Gabe said. But before I could get my hopes up, he dashed them right back down. “Malachi is in bad shape. Very, very bad shape. And the location where he was found? Everyone was dead. Everyone.”

  Meaning, the hope that I’d had over the last year was for naught.

  Malachi was found. But Luca was forever lost.

  Prologue II

  I got a dig bick.

  -You read that wrong

  Malachi

  The dog tags were clutched in my hand.

  Just as they’d been, apparently, when they found me.

  “These are your personal effects,” the man that’d just handed me my discharge papers said. “Normally they would’ve been sent to your parents, but they’ve been unable to be reached.”

  Unable to be reached.

  “So they’ve been in a lockbox,” he continued. “Any questions?”

  Did I have any questions? Thousands of them.

  Did I have any questions for him? No.

  And just like that, I was left with my only personal effects to my name, and not one single spark of memory returned.

  Not. One.

  I had a wallet full of cash. Credit cards that were likely shut off due to my time missing, and a pair of boots that no longer fit me.

  “I’m glad to walk you out to the exit, then,” the nurse said.

  I stood up, feeling things hurt on me that should never hurt a man of my age.

  The first two steps were always the worst.

  My scarred legs d
idn’t want to cooperate.

  It’d been six months since I’d been found in that hellhole.

  Six months of pain.

  Pain that, still to this day, was just as debilitating as the first day.

  Your scarring is intense. Best guess, you survived some kind of explosion.

  The doctor’s first words to me when I woke up explaining what had happened were burned in my memory.

  Your scarring is intense.

  No fuckin’ joke.

  Though my face was badly scarred, it, at least, was one of the only parts of my body that didn’t hurt.

  My shoulders, however? Those fucking hurt.

  There was a clump of scarring from shoulder blade to shoulder blade, and at times, it hurt to even squeeze my hand, let alone move my arm.

  Then there was my left leg.

  You’re lucky that you didn’t lose that. It could’ve been a lot worse.

  Yep, lucky.

  I was lucky to have a fuckin’ leg that hurt so bad to walk at times that I nearly cried with my first two steps.

  But, the scarring was just that, scarring.

  It was proof that I did survive.

  Malachi Stokes was a survivor. Even if the name Malachi Stokes meant nothing to me.

  “One last piece of advice,” the doctor said as he saw me walking past.

  I looked at him.

  “Don’t stop moving,” he said. “The more you move, the freer and less stiff the scarring will be.”

  I nodded once, feeling the scars pull tight on my face right around my eyes.

  You’re lucky you didn’t lose your eyes.

  Funny. But I didn’t feel the least bit fucking lucky.

  ***

  Gabe stood next to me as we both stared at the contents of what I’d left behind.

  “Your parents apparently paid for this for two years,” Gabe rumbled, sounding tired. “You’re lucky…they would’ve confiscated it all next month if you hadn’t come back.”

  Lucky.

  Right.

  I should feel lucky, shouldn’t I?

  I mean, I did return home when his son didn’t.

  But I didn’t feel lucky.

  Far from it.

  “There’s a job at the police station if you want it,” Gabe continued.

  Did I? Want it?

  No.

  But should I take it?

  Probably.

  “Thank you,” I said. “That’d be good.”

  Lies.

  All fucking lies.

  It wouldn’t be good.