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Tainted

Tainted

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Tainted

Länge:
189 Seiten
3 Stunden
Herausgeber:
Freigegeben:
21. Mai 2015
ISBN:
9781311607188
Format:
Buch

Beschreibung

Oh Captain, My Captain presents Valo Manner of the Liberty Eagles.

Valo Manner was traded to the Maine team a few seasons ago and worked his way up to his current position as a captain. He’s enjoyed the change, living with a rookie roommate, but he’s missing his someone special. When he finally makes a move on the girl he has his sights set on, he isn’t expecting the whirlwind she comes with.

Jade Patterson has had nothing but bad luck her whole life. She’s had to fight for every scrap of food that she’s ever received. Her life quickly changes one night when working at the strip club that makes her keep a firm grip on her no-holds-bar attitude. Jade can’t believe that a Finnish hockey player wants anything more from her than what she can give to him in bed.

Jade is sure her broken past and impure life will only taint Valo’s life. However, Valo does everything he can to show Jade that being tainted isn’t as bad as it seems.

Herausgeber:
Freigegeben:
21. Mai 2015
ISBN:
9781311607188
Format:
Buch

Über den Autor

Lindsay Paige is the author of multiple Young Adult, New Adult, and Sports romances. She also enjoys writing books with characters who deal with anxiety and depression, issues which are close to her heart. Lindsay is a North Carolinian who loves watching hockey, sharing puns, having conversations with her miniature Schnauzer, rewatching episodes of M*A*S*H, and living her dream of writing books for a living.Lindsay has written the following books/series:Bending Under PressureBold as Love seriesBracing for Love seriesCarolina Rebels seriesDon’t PanicSanity seriesYou Before MeWithout a DoubtShe has cowritten the following series with Mary Smith:The Ninth Inning seriesOh Captain, My Captain seriesThe Penalty Kill trilogy


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Tainted - Lindsay Paige

Tainted

An Oh Captain, My Captain Novel

by Lindsay Paige and Mary Smith

Tainted

Copyright 2015 by Lindsay Paige and Mary Smith

Smashwords Edition

This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws, and all rights are reserved, including resale rights: you are not allowed to give or sell this book to anyone else.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it, and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All rights reserved. Except for the use of short passages for review purposes, no part of this book may be reproduced, in part or in whole, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanically, including photocopying, recording, or any information retrieval system, without prior permission in the form of writing by the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any actual places, products, or events mentioned are used in a purely fictitious manner.

Cover Designed by: Bailey Ardisone

Edited by: Rebecca Cartee

ISBN: 9781311607188

Table of Contents

Chapter One: Jade

Chapter Two: Valo

Chapter Three: Jade

Chapter Four: Valo

Chapter Five: Jade

Chapter Six: Valo

Chapter Seven: Jade

Chapter Eight: Valo

Chapter Nine: Jade

Chapter Ten: Valo

Chapter Eleven: Jade

Chapter Twelve: Valo

Chapter Thirteen: Jade

Chapter Fourteen: Valo

Chapter Fifteen: Jade

Chapter Sixteen: Valo

Chapter Seventeen: Jade

Chapter Eighteen: Valo

Chapter Nineteen: Jade

Chapter Twenty: Valo

Chapter Twenty-One: Jade

Epilogue: Valo

About the Authors

Coming Soon

Chapter One

Jade

One more shot and if I can’t find a guy, I’m saying ‘fuck it’ and going home with Buzzy my vibrator. Why did I come to a sports bar? I wave down Mr. I-Can’t-Make-A-Screwdriver Bartender.

A shot of Jack and another one. I jiggle my empty cup.

What were you drinking again?

Fuck, there are only six people in this whole damn bar and you can’t remember my drink. I push my hand through my curly black hair. A screwdriver.

The bartender looks pissed at me, but he nods and goes to make my drink. I look around the bar and most of these guys are watching the damn hockey game. I roll my eyes as the bartender brings my drink and shot back. Jack, vodka, and orange juice don’t mix well, but it keeps me numb enough to find the only guy who’s sitting by himself. He has a wedding ring, but that shit doesn’t mean anything to me. Besides, he’s looking at my tits more than my eyes.

Yep, I’m used to that.

I slam my drinks down, toss a few bills on the bar, and stagger over to Mr. Combover.

Here with anyone?

He looks me up and down, and I stick my chest out a bit. No.

Got a car?

He smirks, and I realize he knows where I’m going with this. Most guys do. Yes.

I have the condoms if you have the time.

You a cop? He tries to look all mean-like at me.

I roll my eyes. I’ve beat up bigger guys than this ass in preschool. You know if I had gone to preschool. Do I look like one?

Let’s go.

I follow Mr. Combover out to the parking lot where he unlocks a mini-van. A mini-van? Yep, married. I bet he has a pretty little house in the suburbs with his perfect Betty Crocker wife that I’ve seen in the movies.

As I climb into the back of it, my last thought is...all men are the same. At the end of the day, they are all pricks who only care about themselves.

~ ~ ~

Jade, you working tonight?

I look at my mother, lighting another cigarette. Her words are slurring already and it’s barely three in the afternoon.

No, I’m not. Have you eaten? Not that I should care if the bitch has had food today or not.

I grabbed some peanuts at the bar. She stands and staggers to the fridge. When she opens it, all I see is a bottle of vodka and a six-pack of cheap beer.

I’m leaving. Do you need me to go with you to your parole officer tomorrow?

I don’t go until Thursday! she screams at me.

Oh joy, the drunk is pissed off. I roll my eyes. Hey, tomorrow is Thursday! I yell right back at her.

You’re a liar. Go to your room, you fucking liar.

I rub my temples. I’m too hungover for her delusions right now. Fine, I’ll go to my room. I pick up my purse and leave her crappy apartment.

I walk through the neighborhood I grew up in. Nothing but crack heads, prostitutes, and the ever-present drug dealers.

Welcome to Liberty, Maine.

This town would have been bankrupt if it weren’t for the college and the professional hockey team, the Liberty Eagles. Of course, I don’t go to either one of those places. College isn’t meant for someone like me. My fate directed me to my future: Big Mike’s Strip Club. I’ve been there since I was old enough to be a stage. Now, I’ve thought about trying to save money and making something of myself, but it lasted about two minutes because that’s not what’s supposed to happen in my life.

I’m my mother’s daughter. Well, minus the drugs. I’ve never touched the shit. I’ve seen too many ODs in my life. I’ve tried to slow my drinking down, but that’s what helps me the most when I’m on stage. According to Big Mike, I’m his headliner. That’s really a bunch of shit. I’m the only one who doesn’t fall off the stage when dancing, no matter how drunk I am.

I walk into my place, which is exactly like Mom’s, but on the other side of the projects. I’ve been so used to living here that the noises and people don’t really bother me. Mainly because they know I’ll beat their asses, and I don’t take any shit from anyone.

I double bolt the door and make sure the blinds are pulled tightly. I look around my place. It’s a dump, but I pay my rent every month, so it’s mine. In my living room, there’s a couch and a small TV I bought off one of the druggies down the street. I don’t have a kitchen table and the couch is a pull out for my bed.

I never understood why people waste their money on furniture. It’s really over-rated, if you ask me. I go into the ‘bedroom’, which is where I store my clothes and costumes for the club, but there’s nothing in that room either, except a chair to steady myself on when I put on high heels. I change into a pair of sweats and a shirt and curl up on the couch.

The only thing on TV is a stupid hockey interview. I roll my eyes. I swear to the clouds if Liberty ever lost this team, the whole damn town might die. The announcers are going on and on about their new captain, Mr. Finnish-Not-From-America. I flip it off and close my eyes, listening to the hustle and bustle outside until I fall asleep.

Chapter Two

Valo

I’ve been in Maine for a while now. I bounced around a few teams after initially playing in Indiana with the Mustangs, who drafted me. Maine has become my home now, and this season is my first as captain. I am looking forward to this new challenge. My father played and was the captain of his team. It feels good to know I’ve reached the same level.

The town has its pitfalls, but I love it here. The people are crazy about hockey, so that’s definitely a plus. They seem just as excited as I am over my captaincy. I’ve been here long enough to have favorite bars, restaurants, and the like. I have the night off with no plans to hang out with any teammates, aside from Gus, a rookie who lives with me.

Why do you always pick this bar, Valo? Every single time, we come here, he asks curiously, as we take a seat on stools at the bar.

I’m a creature of habit, I say. I am, but there’s another reason I pick this particular place when we go out for drinks. Because of a girl, of course. I don’t always see her, and I don’t know much about her. She has long, curly black hair, is tall, around 5’8", and the one time I caught a good glimpse at her eyes, I swear they were purple. She’s most likely single because I’ve seen her flirt and she often leaves with a guy.

As if my thoughts have the power, she walks in, taking a seat about five stools down from us. God, she’s beautiful. She looks like a stunning, goth-like, rocker chick with her black leather mini skirt, yellow halter top, knee high boots that make me think of biker boots. Even from the side view, I can tell her eyeliner is on a bit thick. Her fingers thrum on the wooden bar top; her bright yellow fingernails even catch my eye.

Fingers snap in front of my face. Earth to Valo.

What? I look at Gus, waiting for him to answer.

You fed Honeybun, right?

Oh, yeah. Honeybun is my cat. She was a stray who kept hanging around the entryway of the building over the summer and she won’t leave. I had no choice but to take her in, and now she’s mine.

The bartender finally comes over, and we order our drinks. Gus starts talking about stick-handling, but I’m only half paying attention. I’ve watched rocker chick for long enough, and before we went out tonight, I decided that if she was here, I’d talk to her.

She’s here.

Time for me to talk.

Gus reaches a stopping point, so I absentmindedly pat the bar top twice. I’m going to talk to the girl with the yellow halter top. What are my chances? Gus is usually pretty accurate about these things, and it’s interesting to watch him eye the girl and then me before he answers.

Hmm, he hums. Slim to none. And slim is being generous. I’ll have another drink waiting for you when she kicks your ass back here, he grins. I don’t return it. I already figured those were my chances and having him confirm isn’t good.

With a deep breath, I stand and walk over to her, taking the empty seat and angling myself toward her. Up close, her lips are pinker than I thought with some sort of gloss over them. Her glass is nearly empty, thank God, so I say, Can I buy you another? When her eyes finally flick to mine, they are indeed purple. She must wear contacts. I hold my breath, waiting for her answer.

Shit, you have to be an exchange student with an accent like that. Where the hell are you from?

I release my breath; thankful that wasn’t a ‘go away’ response. Finland and I’m not an exchange student.

Doctor, then? Well, you don’t look like a doctor, but then again...who knows. She doesn’t sound thrilled, though. Sure, I’ll take that drink.

I call the bartender over and order her a new drink. What do I look like then?

Well, she looks me up and down and squints. You look like you got lost in a GAP online store, so I’ll rule out fashion designer. You look straight, too. That’s a plus, she mumbles. You’re sort-of muscular, also a plus. So, you’re either a construction worker here on a Green Card or a really bad-looking pimp.

I’m none of those. The muscles should have been a good clue. I’m Valo, Hockey God of the Eagles, I joke.

Her mouth parts with mild surprise. That’s your pick-up line? Really? Let me tell you something, Finland; that is horrible. Just...bad. Do you ever get laid with that? I’m going with no.

I try not to smile. I decided to test it out on you first. Good to know it sucks.

And I knew who you were when you walked over. I was just fucking with you. I’m Jade.

I’m going to guess you don’t care for hockey, Jade?

I watch it from time-to-time, but I’m not huge on sports. How’s it working out for you? she jokes.

Good. Better than I thought it would.

She laughs, and I love the sound of it. "I’m pretty sure I read somewhere you just signed a six-million-dollar a year contract with the Eagles. Sounds better than good," she rolls her eyes at me.

Well, yeah, when you look at it that way. You know what I do, what do you do?

Well, what do I look like, Finland?

"I don’t know. Looks are deceiving. If I had to guess, I take my time looking her over. I’d guess a teacher who likes to go crazy once the school day is over."

Wow, how did you know that? That’s exactly what I am. Good job, Finland.

Really? I didn’t think I would actually be right. I’ve never been good at guessing anything. I’m surprised I’m right.

Bravo, she claps her hands. You nailed this one on the first try.

So, what kinds of crazy things do you like to get into?

Hhmm… I live on the dangerous side by surviving the concrete jungle on a nightly basis. What about you, Finland? How long have you been in the big ‘ole USA?

About seven years. You know, Jade, Valo sounds nicer to me than Finland. Feel free to use that instead. I want to hear her say it, and who doesn’t prefer their own name to a country?

Fine. She rolls her eyes. Valo. Is there a wife, girlfriend, or some arranged marriage back home?

I laugh. No to all. I haven’t met anyone, so single. You?

"Currently unattached. Then again, I’m not the ‘attached’ kind. Are you, Valo? Do you love all the romance that us American women give you?"

I won’t say yes, but I won’t say no either. Do you think American women are knocking my door down? You said I look like a really bad-looking pimp. I raise a brow.

I was joking. Do they not joke in your homeland?

Yes, they do. You just don’t seem to be the joking kind.

Trust me when I say, I’m not a big jokester. I don’t have a lot to smile about these days, but that’s a story for another time. You know, she looks at me deeply, you seem like a nice guy, Valo. I’m not used to nice guys. I really hope that you find a nice girl someday. She starts to leave and I take her

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