Hazel St. James - Fighting For You (Redemption#1)[
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Authors: Hazel St James
Tags: #bondage, #sex, #Romance, #bdsm, #Erotica, #Rough
Fighting For You
Book One of the Redemption Series
By Hazel St James
Copyright Hazel St James 2013
Kindle Edition
Cover Model Justin Coale
Cover Photo Golden Czermak, Furious Fotog
Special Thanks To:
Cover Design: Melissa Stevens
Storyline Editor: Riane Holt
Editor: Tanya Keetch
Formatter: Paul Salvette
Beta Readers: Karen Thill, Susan Foulkes and Dee Thomas
Copyeditor: Angela Carlson
Author Stylist: Lachelle Ingvalson
Author Photographer: CLP Studio
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 events of locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
There are several copyrighted names used in this story. Credit is given to:
Audi owned by the Volkswagen Group, AG
Jeep owned by the Chrysler Group LLC
This book is dedicated to each and every one of my readers, fans and followers…Enjoy!
Justin Coale…forever my Apollo
Alyssa Graham…my Sassy
Karen and her family…“Sorrow looks down, worry looks back, faith looks up…”
This story deals with mental illness in its untreated and treated forms. I have used my experiences with the disease as well as experiences from my muse. This is not an easy subject to incorporate into a love story, but it was necessary for both myself and Justin that I do this. I am not a medical or mental doctor…I make no claims that the information in this book is “medically appropriate,” and/or should be used as a guideline for such.
What I do ask is that if you read this story, and feel the slightest bit of kinship with any of the feelings or issues described herein, please seek help. I have dealt with mental illness my entire life. It is not something to take lightly, and requires a life-time of support. But standing where I am now, I made the right decision all those years ago to accept the help that I was given. Justin couldn’t be…well…Justin JT Coale, if he didn’t either…
Hugs,
Hazel St James
Table of Contents
Prologue
“D
addy, Daddy, don’t go!”
“I have to go, Tristan. Be a good boy for Mommy,” the man answered as he continued to walk to his old Buick that was parked in the driveway.
“But, I don’t want to stay with her. I wanna go with you,” the little boy sobbed.
The man stopped walking and let his shoulders slump forward. Tristan grabbed a hold of his father’s waist and clutched it as hard as he possible could.
“Mommy yells at me all the time! Don’t leave, Daddy!”
The man pulled Tristan free from his leg and scooped him up in his arms, clutching him tightly to his chest. “Grandma is here to help take care of you. I need you to be a big boy and take care of Mommy for me.”
Tristan clung to his father’s neck, tightly squeezing so that he couldn’t be pulled off, wailing uncontrollably. Daddy just couldn’t leave now, Tristan thought. It was his eighth birthday tomorrow and Daddy had promised to take him fishing. Plus, Mommy slept most of the time and never played catch or did anything with him. Daddy was the one that took him to school, picked him up, fed him the best macaroni and cheese and did all the fun things that Tristan liked to do. Grandma was always too busy to do anything with him, but she did make him good macaroni and cheese. Not like Daddy’s, but still good.
“Please, Daddy. I’ll be a good boy. Please stay.”
“Tristan, I love you. Never forget that.”
His father turned around and headed back towards the house, letting Tristan continue to clutch at him. Once he was near the porch, he pried his little fingers free, and handed him to his grandmother. Tristan tried to pull free from Grammy, but she had her arms locked around his chest and was rocking him from side to side. She softly cooed in his ear, “Tristan, this is for the best.”
It was mere moments before his daddy had climbed into his car, and without even looking back, he drove away. Tristan pulled free from his Grandma and stomped down the steps to watch his father leave him behind. The car was long gone from his eyes when Tristan whispered, “I love you too, Daddy.”
Chapter One
T
ristan Hart waited in front of Club Red for the owner, Dominic Pearce to arrive. The man not only owned the club, but had reluctantly agreed to be his mentor and liaison into the BDSM world.
“You’re here early,” Dominic answered as he stepped out of his SUV. The man pulled his shades off his head, but didn’t walk away from the door of his vehicle. “I forgot to tell you to park in the back. We leave the front spaces for our guests.”
Tristan just nodded his answer as he climbed back into his car and pulled around to the backside of the building. He almost second-guessed the directions Dominic gave him as he pulled up in front of the log cabin-looking, pristine building that was supposedly the hottest kink club in Colorado Springs. At least that is what his Uncle Morgan had told him.
Uncle Morgan was Tristan’s last remaining blood relative. He was actually Tristan’s mother’s half-brother, but he was only marginally better than the rest of his mother’s pathetic family, including his own mom. Tristan felt absolutely no remorse when he thought badly of his mother or her family. His uncle was the chewing gum on the bottom of humanity’s shoes, but his mother was the shit on the bottom of those shoes. A day hadn’t passed that he missed his mother, or the ways she would abuse him without leaving any physical marks. Her weapon of choice was always her words.
Uncle Morgan owned and ran the assembly line plant, J-View Plastics, Inc. The production company was just a front for some of the more shady business deals that Morgan participated in, but Tristan never really got too involved in any of the specifics. Sure, he’d been on the team that was privy to some of the more “intimate” negotiations, but Tristan never really knew what any of it was about, other than to be able to spot key players.
Dominic Pearce was not only the owner of a kink club, he was also a professor at the community college in town. Highly respected by his peers, he was not the kind of man that would associate with his Uncle Morgan. But there was some history there, as the two warmly greeted each other the day that Dominic came by the plant not too long ago. Tristan just happened to be in the office at the time, instead of out running the line like normal. The camaraderie ended there as they privately discussed something behind closed doors, and Tristan didn’t pay them any attention. Not that he didn’t care, but honestly, as long as his uncle could get him into the posh club, the how wasn’t important.
There were five large parking spots crowding the back entrance of Club Red. Dominic parked in the one closest to the front door, and Tristan pulled alongside of him. The door on his Audi TTS Coupe didn’t make a single noise as he opened it, and he brushed a piece of lint off the two-tone black and red leather seats before climbing out.
His red pearl two-hundred plus horsepower luxury sports car was his pride and joy, and he was meticulous about keeping it clean. Tristan worked hard at J-View Plastics so he could have the car, but had spent every last penny he’d saved on the down payment and now could only afford a tiny apartment in the shittiest part of Colorado Springs. A smart man would have ditched the expensive car payments and found a cleaner and safer place to live, but having a tight car that could do zero to sixty in less than five seconds had a way of making hot chicks bend over and grab their ankles, which was a plus.
The two men walked through the back entrance of the building and past a darkened area with bench seating to the right. Directly in front of them, was a gigantic rectangular room, with an empty banquet table in the very center. A man was leaning over the table, reading some papers that were spread out before him.
“Chris, thank you for doing this today. This is Tristan Hart. We’re going to give him a crash course on Club Red protocols before he scenes tonight with Valerie. Are you ready to proceed?” Dominic asked using an overly loud, almost angry voice.
Chris must have sensed something amiss as well, because he didn’t answer, instead stood up straight, and turned around to stare at Dominic with a blank look on his face. The stare down proceeded for a short amount of time, and Chris sighed and lowered his shoulders.
“Yes, Dominic. If you’re absolutely sure you know…”
“I’m sure. Now, let’s give Tristan a tour of the club first, shall we?”
Chris gave a noncommittal grunt and extended his hand towards Tristan. “Chris Lake. I run Club Red with Dominic. I understand you have an interest in BDSM play, but lack the patience to participate in the official training period that we require?”
The snide tone of voice that he used instantly pushed Tristan to def-com five. “Listen, douchebag, I’ve played around with this before. I’m not a fucking newbie. If you don’t want to be here, who’s stopping you from leaving?”
In an instant, Chris was standing toe to toe with Tristan, and the blond haired, fairly built dude was eye level with him. There was a cold and menacing look in the man’s face, but Tristan didn’t feel the slightest bit intimidated. Shit, there was very little anymore that made him back down, and the death glare he was getting right now didn’t even phase him.
For the last three months, Tristan had been riding the ultimate high on life. He had a good job that paid decent, made a good down payment on his little beauty of a car, and had fucked half the mid-twenties female population in town. Plus, he didn’t have to deal with anymore shit from the little that was left from mother’s estate, now that it was finally settled. Tristan was so pumped about everything these days, and his euphoric outlook on life didn’t seem to be waning.